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elletheactualmenace · 1 year

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Was it Worth it?

Pairing: Bruce Wayne(battinson) x fem!reader

Summary: Bruce did something and he is afraid you won’t ever look at him the same.

Warnings: Unfaithfulness, betrayal, harsh words, angst

Word Count: 3.7k

a/n: probably definitely my favorite of the ones I’ve been working on. I kinda wish I made the ending a little different, but I still like it. Should I make another part? Idk, anyways enjoy.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

There is a gentle humming vibration radiating from the floor of Bruce's bat cave. His music is the only thing keeping the room from being dead silent. He's hunched over the table not even sitting in the chair. He looks exhausted, because he is. The tension in the air almost hurts as much as the situation itself. Your chest squeezes in pain and your stomach is dropped farther than you think possible. Bruce, doesn't move. He won't move. He can't look at the mess he made. The mess he got both of you in.

You stand in the middle of the icy cold room. A shiver runs down your spine. Your eyes are wet and puffy. No tears have fallen, and you are going to make sure you keep it that way. At least until you are alone. You won't give him that. Your tears. They're yours, and he no longer has the right to see you in that kind of vulnerability.

Your gaze wanders over the room. It's big. And has a lot of technology. It's dark and it's lonely in a way that reminds you of Bruce. You've been in here before, many times before, but the aura is different, and it's chilling. You can't tell if you're glad or angry. And if you are being honest, if the opportunity to go back and change everything appears, you aren't sure if you would take it or leave it.

"Well," You exhale a regrettable shaky breath. You straighten out your stance. You clear your throat and sniffle in your sadness and disappointment. "I'm going to bed." You turn on your heel towards the elevator.

Your steps are loud involuntarily, and they make Bruce's chest tighten with guilt and an overwhelming sense of self-hatred. His eyes sting from fatigue and emotional pain. His tongue glides over his lip, thinking of how he should approach this, or if he should at all. But he hears your scolding voice in his head. ’Bruce, you need to do something. You have to.’

The echo of your shoes against the concrete ground ends abruptly. You tilt your head up, looking at the ceiling trying to stop the sobs and shaking from taking over. You squeeze your eyes shut, taking in a long breath.

"Bruce," You start while pressing the elevator button. You hear it descending from the floors above. The sound is audibly shaky because of the quiet unspoken tension in the air. Bruce's head turns slightly at the soft sound of your voice.

"Was it worth it?" You're curious, but there is an undertone giving away the true intent of your question. You want him to feel the guilt and feel the same amount of pain and hurt you do.

"No." He whispers the ache in his heart evident in his voice.

“Was she worth it?” Your words are like venom. The elevator door slides open with a ding.

“No. Never. Why would you think that?” Bruce grumbles out, almost insulted. Your jaw tightens at his tone. Why the hell was he insulted? You should be screaming and crying, but you keep your cool for the sake of everyone. For the sake of your marriage. The clashing of your teeth is loud in your head.

“I'm sorry, what?” Your fist tightens at your side. Now you're not just sad, you're pissed. How the fuck is he fixing this but trying to play the victim? He is not allowed to feel insulted, he doesn’t have that privilege.

Bruce doesn’t say anything, realizing the sound of his voice makes you mad. He stinks in on himself, feeling the guilt and the wrongfulness crawling from the pit of his stomach into every fiber of his being. He wants to undo everything, he wants to fall on his knees and beg for your forgiveness. But you need space. And begging will do as much as fucking Selina again. He needs to do something that proves to you he’s sorry and that it won’t happen again. But he’s not even sure he can prove it to you or that it won't happen again. He prays to everything that it won’t.

“Why would I think that?” You mumble to yourself in disbelief. You questionably hum, loudly, comically, mocking him. You laugh bitterly.

Suddenly it hits you. Why were you giving him so much as a thought right now? He doesn’t deserve your patience. He doesn’t deserve every night you waited for him to come home. He doesn’t deserve your constant ‘it’s fine’ even when it wasn’t. He doesn’t deserve the fact that you hadn’t done something drastic yet. But at the same time you knew his heart was good, and he deserves the world. You don’t know anymore. Fuck your indecisiveness.

“I’m too tired to deal with all of this right now. Goodnight Bruce.” You step into the elevator, back to the cave. You push the button without a sound and are off.

The second the doors open again you’re met face to face with Alfred. When he sees your sad and pained expression he is immediately by your side.

“Mrs. Wayne? Are you alright ma’am?” His face is full of concern. And you have to remind yourself to keep it together.

“I’m fine Alfred thank you. I think I’m ready for bed.” You curse how shaky your voice is, because Alfred notices too.

“Of course ma’am. Do you need anything before then?” Alfred is and always has been thoughtful and respectful of others, it was his job of course.

“No. I’m-, I’ll be alright. Thank you, Alfred. You are too good for this world.” He smiles at your compliment and gives a small thank you. Your unsteady breathing makes him worried, but he lets you be. If you needed to talk you would have. So he lets you travel up the stairs and into the master bedroom.

——

Alfred is furious. What has Master Bruce done this time? Alfred practically stomps down to the bat cave. He storms in with fire in his eyes.

Alfred loves you. As if you are his own. You are kind, witty, and an absolute pleasure to have around. You also care about Bruce, and he knew from the second he met you that you were going to stick around even if Master Bruce would be stubborn about it for a while.

When Bruce hears the loud steps, he perks up, hoping it’s you and that he can at least try to apologize. When he hears Alfred’s angry voice roaring throughout the cave his shoulders slump.

“Mater Bruce.” The volume of Alfred’s voice surprises him.

Bruce stays quiet. What did you say? No, he thought, she didn’t say anything. That’s not like her.

“Why have you sent your wife away in such a state? What did you say? What did you do?” Alfred never raises his voice much, but now is one of those rare occasions.

“I didn’t send her off. She left voluntarily,” Bruce responds in a gruff voice.

There is a beat of silence as Alfred gathers his thoughts and anger. Obviously you had left voluntarily. Bruce would never throw you out. Never. So, what had he done to hurt you?

“What did you do?” Alfred repeated in a firm voice. Bruce’s shoulders tighten even more than they already are. Bruce breathes out slowly, trying not to show his emotions, like always.

“I-“ Bruce starts, but his breathing gets shaky, and he stops. It feels like it hurts him just as much, if not more than you. But he would never dare say that out loud, he won’t ever try to make you think your feelings are inferior to his.

“I did something,” Bruce pauses, “And I-,” he pauses again. Alfred is so use to Bruce not sharing that the waiting doesn’t bother him anymore. Alfred lets him think about how to word it.

“I don’t think she will ever look at me the same. I don’t think she will ever forgive me.” Alfred can hear the pain in his words. He feels horrible. He wants to know what he did that was so bad.

“What did you do-“ Alfred cuts himself off when he sees Bruce switch on a screen. It’s one of the recordings he takes when goes out through his contacts. Alfred lets out an audible gasp when he sees her. Selina Kyle.

“You didn’t-“

“I did.” Bruce says bluntly, angry at himself. His eyes wander in a misty haze. Glazed over with regret.

“Master Bruce,” Alfred starts, but he stops mouth agape. As if he can’t put together what he wants to say. Like he doesn’t know himself.

He loves you and he loves Bruce. And Bruce messed up big time. It’s going to be way more, incredibly difficult than usual for Bruce to fix this.

Alfred let Bruce be alone in his thoughts, but when he realizes it will take hours for him to truly have his thoughts straight, he marches down to the cave and demands he go and fix this.

“Go.” Alfred has a serious look on his face. “You can’t just leave her there to cry, Master Bruce.”

“I- I need to think,” Bruce argues but Alfred isn’t having it.

“I will let you know you’ve been ‘thinking’ for almost two hours. You’re done thinking. You need to go and confront the situation head on.” Alfred says sternly.

“No, I can’t,” Bruce says arrogantly.

“I don’t see why you are having such trouble. Facing things head on is the bat's job after all.” Alfred retorts and Bruce stays quiet.

“Now,” Alfred starts, “Go, before I burn your suit and have all the entrance to here,” He gestures to the batcave. “Sealed.”

Bruce narrows his eyes. He knows not to mess with Alfred when he threatens, even if it seems so casually, he is dead serious. Bruce has experienced it firsthand before.

“Get moving Master Bruce, before I drag you up there myself. Don’t forget you taught you everything you know.” Alfred says with a pointed look, before turning on his heel to exit.

—-

You don’t remember a time that you have hurt as much as you do now. After brushing off Alfred successfully, at least for a bit, you moped up to the bedroom, your and Bruce’s bedroom.

After getting inside and shutting the absurdly large doors, you turn your back against the doors. Leaning all of your weight on them. Using them as a source of support. Now, finally, you let go. You let everything you have been hiding behind fall. The strong attitude to face your cheating husband. The tears pour in choked sobs. You slide down to the floor, back still against the big doors.

After a long while of sitting there you got up and got changed. If your life is falling apart your figure you might as well be comfortable.

The tears never really stop, not really. They only slow every once in a while then come back even stronger than before. It’s getting hard to breathe. You can’t even sit on the bed, it smells like him. So you sit on the windowsill, looking out at the streets of Gathom.

You don’t know what to do. It’s not really something they make books, or guides for. Screaming at his face seems like a very appealing opinion right now. Or you could run, just for a bit, take the car you had before you moved in, and he, annoyingly at the time, felt the need to buy you a new car as one of the many welcome gifts. You had told him that you didn’t need anything, but he insisted, he always does. He’s thoughtful in that way. Always giving you things. You love him, and always will love-

Wait. What the fuck? Why the hell are you doing? That loving husband you ‘will always love’ cheated on you. And proceeded to not tell you for almost five months. And you have only been married for a little less than a year. And what happened to taking the car and running? That thought just seemed to slip away.

You want to forgive him but at the same time you want to cry and scream at him for being a dick and hurting you. For all the time you have known Bruce he would never do something like this purposely, at least not from what you’ve seen. If someone asked you yesterday if you trust him and believe him, the answer would be an immediate yes, no questions asked. But now you aren’t sure. He has probably done so many things you don’t know about, and he has just never told you.

The tears start to lessen, but the pain in your chest is still present. You had asked Bruce to put in a cushion on the window seat, and of course, he did. It was soft, sure, but it was always cold and isolated. You sat here when you waited for Bruce to come home from his nightly work. So the seat always reminds you of that lonely feeling. And right now the feeling is amplified.

You just want him to know what you did wrong. What is so bad about you that he has to go find someone else to be intimate with. All you can think about are the thousands of things you could have done wrong.

A soft knock sounds from the door. You can’t tell if you with its Bruce or Alfred. But either way you get up and walk over to the doors of the master bedroom.

You pull the doors open, head hung low towards the ground. You spot black dirty boots standing in front of you. It's Bruce. And somehow the sadness in the pit of your stomach enhances at the sight of the boots.

You squeeze your eyes shut, then push the door close. But something stops the satisfying sound of the door clicking closed. A boot specifically.

A growl grows from deep in your throat.

“Go away,” The boot remains wedged in between the door frame and the door.

“Please?” It's more of a rude demand than a question. But instead of following your request a hand on the other side of the door pushes it open.

“I know you probably don’t want to talk but-“ You cut him off.

“No, I definitely don’t want to talk. That's why I came up here.” You finally look up into his hooded eyes. They’re bloodshot red, but you can’t tell if it's because he was crying or because he is sleep deprived. It's most likely the latter.

Bruce sighs sadly, he hates that he hurt you. He hates how your red puffy eyes and stuffy nose are because of him, because of what he did. He hates himself for letting Selina get to him. He knows it is and always will be his fault, but putting some blame on Selina, which she deserves, takes off some of the weight.

“Can I come in?” He asks, and you reluctantly let him in. Your body is heavy with dread. You don’t know how this will end, and thinking about leaving this room a single woman is horrifying.

Bruce walks to the windowsill you follow close behind, but keeping your distance. “What do you want to talk about?” You ask genuinely. “Are you here to tell me you had an affair with someone else? Someone other than Selina?” It comes out before you can stop it. And your breath hitches. You almost cover your mouth with your hand but stop yourself. After thinking about it alone, you realized that with Bruce, you need to let him speak before you start yelling. It never ends well when you just yell and don’t listen too.

Bruce looks hurt as he looks down at you with a frown. You sigh feeling ashamed for accusing him before he even got to speak.

“Sorry,” You mumble. “You can talk now.”

“Well, I-“ He pauses and sighs, finding it hard to put his thoughts and feelings into words. “Im sorry, and I- I know that most likely means nothing at all, and does nothing. But I just- I need you to know. Im so sorry.” His shoulders fall along with the walls that were previously up when you were down in the cave.

You don’t say anything, you can’t. You can’t say it's okay, because it's not. So you let him continue.

“The night it happened, I wasn't in my right mind.” You scoff, and he understands that it sounds like absolute bull shit. So he re-words it. “I mean, I wasn’t focused, I was stuck somewhere else.” Your sniffle rips at his heart. That sounds stupid too.

“Fuck, I was missing you. And I needed you, but you weren’t there. She was. I regret it and always will.” It still sounds stupid and like bullshit, but he doesn’t care, it’s the truth.

“I wanted to come home early, and I was going to. I was. I was going to come home to you, but Selina- she,” He pauses, his breathing goes ragged. “She stopped me and I didn’t make it home.”

The room is quiet. You're thinking and Bruce is waiting for you to say something, anything. You breathe in slowly.

“So,” You start, “I didn’t do anything wrong?” Your voice cracks as your shoulders fall and you crumble into a million broken pieces.

“What?” He’s genuinely confused, in a soft voice. Why would you think you did something wrong? Bruce can’t figure it out. “Why would you think that?” Tears well up in his eyes as he watches your brave face fall right in front of him.

You laugh as tears roll down your checks. “I- I mean you’ve been distant lately, more than normal. And I guess the only explanation is that- I did something, or I didn’t do something,”

Bruce breathes out a shaky breath, trying to stop his own tears from spilling. “Y/n, you could never do anything wrong. I did the wrong thing. I’ve been distant because of this.” His words come out slowly, more than normal, like he is really trying to make a point. “And I can never make up for what I’ve done, but I need you to know that you’ve never done anything wrong.”

You look down with furrowed brows and tears running down your pink checks. It isn’t your fault. He was just being an insensitive prick, but he said he was thinking about you before it happened. You're stuck. You want to slap him and hug him at the same time. You don’t know what to say or do with what you were just given. Bruce is your husband and the love of your life, but he cheated on you, that’s something intolerable and horrible. You don’t want to walk out of his life, or make him leave yours.

You stand with him like this for what seems like an eternity. Both of you are thinking about what will happen next. Bruce thinks you will up and leave him, he knows you have the right to, but that doesn’t mean it's what he wants, he has to remind himself that this isn’t about him, it's about what he did.

You sharply look up at him and Bruce blinks in surprise at your sudden movements. You huff out an angry breath. Bruce waits for the four treacherous words to fall from your lips. He waits holding his breath.

“I want…”

A divorce. Bruce thinks as his shoulders slump and a tear slips down his check.

“I want a bit of space.” Bruce freezes. What does that mean? “I don’t want a divorce. But I need time to heal, and to gain back everything that you’ve-, ruin-” you pause not want to be straight out rude. But inevitably you decided against being nice. “messed up.” You say in a somewhat steady voice, your arms wrapping around your body to try and comfort you. Bruce knows you were going to say ruined, but he's glad you don’t, it shows that you are willing to help him mend your marriage, it gives him hope.

“Thank you,” he says with a sob almost falling over. “I- Im so sorry, I don’t deserve you. I never have.” He sobs out, finally letting the weight of his screw up show.

“You're right, you don’t.” Bruce's eyes fall to the ground in shame. He tries to compose himself. “But in time, hopefully you will again.” You state bluntly as you try to keep your voice steady and strong, while also keeping more tears from falling in a downpour.

“And I- I need you to just hold me.” You say softly grabbing his hand and leading him to your king bed. You’re still angry, but you need him to be here for you right now.

He follows you to the edge of the bed and pulls off his boots as you slide under the comforter. You still look so hurt, because you are. Bruce knows this isn’t you forgiving him, this is you giving him his first chance to mend what was broken.

Bruce climbs in much less gracefully under the blanket, he waits for you to come to him. And you do. You wrap your arms around his waist and rest your head on his chest. His shirt smells like him and it makes you much more tired than you were five minutes ago.

“I will always be here to hold you.” He whispers into your ear as he kisses the top of your head. He feels a wet spot forming on his shirt and guilt overtakes him for the millionth time in weeks. But Bruce just shuts his eyes tight and pulls you into him even closer. Silently letting you know that you can cry for as long as you need.

Your cries turn to sobs as you grip his black shirt tightly in your fists. After a long time of on and off sobs your tears turn into whimpers and sniffles. Bruce rubs your back in soothing circles, it's what he does when he wants you to sleep. You do just that. You drift off in his arms, and without any more words he knows, as he holds you in his arms that he will have to make it up to you and gain back your trust. And he will. Starting now, he will do anything and everything in his power to repair, patch up, restore, and piece back together what he ruptured.

#battinson #bruce wayne x reader #angst #x reader #bruce wayne x you #batman x reader #Batman

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lyralaneoriginal12 · 10 months

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Your Voice is My Reality (Platonic Older! Damian Wayne x baby boy reader)

“There there, my sweet angel... Baba isn't going anywhere...”

Aged-Up Damian Wayne as Demon's Head of League of Shadows who also the loving and protective father of you. (It gives 'I will burn the world for you' kinda vibe, but oh well)

(WARNING! OOC)

Damian felt like his heart was about to explode, he fell on the ground and was wounded. The enemy had shot him right in his chest. The pain is unbearable but worst of all, his baby witnesses all this. It was a mistake already to bring you to this type of meeting. Here you are now, witness his assassination.

The League's assassins quickly neutralize all the threats and manage to take control of the situation. You was crying in fear. The enemy also looked scared of what he just did to the Demon Head. You pry release the hold of the nannies and quickly run towards your father.

Damian tried to breathe, he was struggling to stay alive and awake. The assassins and the nannies were shocked because Damian stayed in a pool of his on blood, with a gunshot wound on his torso. The Demon Head was bleeding profusely on the ground after being shot.

“Baba, no!”

Notice his son now right beside him, Damian raises his hand and slowly caressed your head. Even in this state, Damian’s mind only filled the need to protect you and to make sure that you are okay and safe.

“There there, my sweet angel... Baba isn't going anywhere...”

Says Damian in between pain while looking at you with a sad and concerned expression. He tried to fight the pain of the gunshot wound, which was making him feel a bit weaker each moment that passed. Damian vision start to blur. You were crying while clutching on your father's chest. Your beautiful blue robe completely soaks in Damian's blood.

Damian looks at his baby, with a loving, concerned and tender look on his face. With that, Damian closes his eyes. The vision is becoming more and more blurred until... the darkness comes slowly and gradually.

Time Skip

There’s many people wearing all black cloaks, circle the Lazarus Pit. The very pit glow in green and had a very rotten aroma. The smell that was coming from the green pit was awful, it was as if a lot of dead bodies were buried there. Damian's body being carried by the monks. He's ready to be revived from death.

You currently in the arms of Marie, one of the nannies of the League. You suckles quietly on your pacifier, with tiny cloak covering your body, watching the whole ritual carefully and looking closely at the monks.

The monks, Damian's advisors and the assassins were surrounding the pit, waiting for the moment.

You saw how the monks submerge their body until they were waist-deep while gently carrying Damian's corpse. Then, they carefully placed Damian’s corpse into the waters.

You watched as your father was completely submerged in the water. You squirms a little at Marie's arms, feel a little distress when you sees your father being submerged into the toxic green water.

“Hush, Master (Y/N)”

Assure the nanny at his young master to calm you down.

There's a long pause until Damian broke through the water with a feral cry, his jade eyes were glowing an eerie green. The greenish mist coming from the water then filled his eyes, making Damian see the surroundings very weirdly. Damian snarls at the monks and feel how his body is moving and healing on its own.

Damian starts to go wild and attacking the monks and assassins. Everyone knows the effects of being dipped into the Pit, how the user is driven temporarily insane. But well... Damian had used it quite a lot, so the effect doesn’t take toll on him completely. Damian keeps attacking the monks and assassins like a wild animal. Tearing them apart with his bare hands.

The madness continues until you calls out for him.

“Baba...”

The Demon Head stopped immediately and turned his gaze to those angelic voices, looking at the baby with malicious gaze. Damian saw that you was being held by Marie. You makes a grabby hand at Damian, which scares Marie who tries to protect you from Damian rampage.

Damian stops attacking everybody once he hears his name being called by his angel. Damian closed and opened his eyes once again, as his sweet angel's voice snapped him back to reality. Slowly but surely, recognition was in his eyes. Damian’s rage and feral behavior are over.

“(Y/N)…”

Damian slowly stands up, while look at all the shocked faces of the advisors, assassins, and monks, who are watching the whole scene with a confused and scared expression on their faces.

Damian slowly walks out of the Pit and goes to you whose still in the nanny arms. The green water wetted the concrete floor, but he didn’t care, he needed to embrace his son now. The servants quickly cover Damian's body with his majestic red robe, so he won’t catch cold. Like there’s no tomorrow, Damian takes you from the protective hold of your nanny. You quickly hugs your father in a loving manner.

“Baba”

Damian gently holds the baby in his arms, with the loving and caring eyes of a father, who's glad to be back with his little boy. Damian looks at the whole room, with all the advisors, assassins and monks looking at both Damian and his son, with a confused expression on their faces. Damian couldn’t help but chuckle a little especially to the monks and assassins he accidentally hurt previously.

“Well, this is... awkward...”

The people in the room couldn’t help but giggle a little at Damian’s remark.

Damian looked at his baby with a happy smile on his face.

“Hey, beloved. I missed you so much.”

Damian kisses you on your chubby cheek, as your cute smile touches Damian’s heart. You giggles softly when his father does so while pinching his your own nose cutely.

“Baba stinky. You are stinky!”

Damian chuckles a bit when you says that he is stinky. You didn’t go wrong though.

“Yes, yes, beloved. I must admit... I need to get a bath but now that I'm back with you again, my precious angel.”

Damian smiles a little at you again, feeling his heart being touched by your adorable words and the little pinch you gives yourself after making this sweet and funny remark. Then, you happily claps your hand.

“Bubble bath, Baba! Bubble bath!”

Damian chuckles after your comment as he gently touches your small and soft chubby hands.

“Yes, bubble bath it is.”

The servants quickly scatter to prepare bubble bath at the grand bathroom of the League of Shadows base.

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rubyarerosies · 1 month

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got a youth of may inspired angst kinda rant with gojo if anyone wants to know hehe

(tw. cheating? (not on mc) death, injuries, kinda toxic idk)

Gojo’s a Lieutenant General in military and you’re his favourite nurse, obvious reason, you’re his girlfriend of 3 years. You both met during your stay in medical school and his 3 week training for medical assistance - dates and hard fucking were what sprouted this love. Your the first nurse he calls when he’s injured, he always comes to your office during your lunch break if he has time, and he always kisses you and his promise ring when he leaves for a mission domestically or internationally.

But things started to change when your branch was sent to a city where martial law was declared, and Gojo had to stay because a Lieutenant General was already placed for duty there. You both did your best in keeping contact, but with the amount of shifts you were put on due to military violence held you back in the hallways of the hospital. Misunderstandings happen as Gojo worries over your long absences and you worry during your shifts at the hospital on whether or not if you should talk to him - would it end up being an argument? You stop texting and he’s at his wits end. That’s until your cousin, also a nurse back at home, started becoming your emissary because of your turmoil.

It hurts me but Gojo starts to become attached to your cousin, starting to enjoy her company more than what she initially came to tell him about you. But Gojo wouldn’t pursue her if he was still with you - you’re still precious to him, you’re still someone he loves, so he breaks it off over the phone.

“Is it her?” - “…Yeah,”

“Why her?” - “She’s here.”

You don’t hear from her or him after that, you figure she feels out of place to talk to you now that she’s somewhat got feelings for her cousins ex boyfriend. And Satoru, you figure he’s wallowing in a pit of shame, although it must not as deep as you expect since he wasn’t scared to say it over the phone, or keep it secret for a bit at home (you don’t think you want to call that city home anymore)

“Shoko told me there’s not much they hide over there,” Suguru’s voice is soft, you don’t want his pity - but you rethink it when his next words come out cautiously it sends an uncomfortable tremor in you.

“…She also said he doesn’t wear his ring anymore,”

Blah Blah Blah, time goes on. You try to work on yourself but with such little time on your hands, there’s only so much you can do for yourself. But Suguru helps the best he can, he’s a good friend - almost too good that your chest doesn’t tremble with sadness when he starts to talk about Satoru and your cousins status (he only does it when you ask, and he makes sure to double check if you’re really sure he can talk about - ‘she’s ranked up, she sits in your old office now’ ‘Shoko growled them off the other day for spilling disinfectant over the infirmary floor, she called them ugly hounds’)

There’s a big city commotion that happens, and martial law calls for back up. Overnight, reinforcements are sent over.

Gojo happens to stumble into your infirmary with a dislocated shoulder, his head held down low as he sits on the bed, his mind screams about the nostalgia of it all. You walk in and grimace a bit, then heave out a sigh. It’s silent on your part, you only give him sharp answers when he asks how you’ve been and if you’ve been doing ok. Satoru feels his stomach backflip when he feels your touch across his shoulder, collarbone and chest, your hands feel like fire but so soft simultaneously. He also feels something cold, and it makes him shiver, he looks down - your promise ring.

“Don’t feel so special, I wasn’t going to let this dust up in my drawer, it’s a nice ring.”

When you leave, you bump into your cousin who looks frantic. It’s awkward until she asks where he is, you point to the closed curtain and she leaves with a bitter taste in her throat (she was there on sight ready to help him, but he had already asked for your assistance out of instinct)

Gojo resumes his duties, but this time, he stays here. Suguru says it’s because the other Lieutenant generals wife just had their first born so he went back home.

After the first city commotion, more happens, the people are restless. You understand them, it’s not nice law abiding a more corrupt ‘government.’ Gojo too, he doesn’t like how the higher ups order so much violence against the public, but to save face for his position he stays quiet. You don’t. You join the people and Satoru watches.

It’s now routine to always bump into him. Your cousin now works at your hospital, so you’re bound to see him when he comes to visit and pick her up if he can. He tries to befriend you, but you don’t want that.

Satoru sees you forget your ID one day when entering the hospital in casual clothes, the soldiers at the door must be new because they start to become aggressive. You’re shoved on the floor and before you could be slapped, Gojo steps in and takes it on his shoulder - his injured shoulder.

And that’s how you end up hold an ice bag on the swelling area of his shoulder. Satoru uses his thumb to smoothe out your eyebrows, saying how you’re scary with a glare. And when you finally look up, you see his dog tag is paired with his promise ring, when you ask about it he says, “Didn’t have the heart to throw it in my draw as well,”

This is where things start to get confusing with our lovebirds? Gojo is being confusing; he likes you cousin, he really does, but he thinks he still loves you, and Y/N won’t open up to him about the possibility of dating him again because of how poisonous it is to think about how they ended before.

Satoru decides for the both of you when he comes back for a checkup and lets it slip that he misses you, and when you look up, he kisses you, his hand cradling your hand with the promise ring and pulling it against his chest to connect it with his.

However, you don’t take kindly to his actions and slap him after. He whispers he loves you when you leave. After leaving himself, he goes over to his girlfriend’s apartment and apologises.

“Why?” - “She’s here now, and that’s all I needed”

You do your best at pushing him away, but he’s persistent. It starts to annoy you that you beg your superior to change your shifts, but no matter what, he’s always there like shadow.

“Y/N,” he says sternly, but you don’t falter in your haste to seem against the idea, “7PM, tonight,”

“I can’t leave until 9,” - “7PM, I’ll carry you if I have to,”

You get carried out at 7PM but the date is cut short after a curfew was set at 8PM, Satoru says he didn’t know about this. The 2 dates you go to after the first is not out of your will, but you would say the ones after aren’t.

It’s after a month when Satoru says he loves you again, and this time to your face. You think it’s because of how damn serious everything is starting to crumble, he came back to the infirmary a week ago with a very nasty concussion and gashes and there was a sliver of panic in him that he wouldn’t make it without telling you how much you meant to him. So he confessed to you the week after.

“I know you don’t have the answer right now, come back to me tomorrow night and I’ll wait for you, always,”

You don’t give him an answer, mind too muddled after a change of events these past couple of months, but you give him your ring as a promise that you will come back if not tomorrow, and he gives his to you as a reminder that you always have a part of his heart. You leave his room after that, and when you do, you notice it’s past curfew. The rural areas of the city are quite scary to walk by, especially the trees.

Long story short, you see a kid in the woods afraid of making their way home because of how brutal they’ve come to realise the military men were, you do your best in walking them out but get shut down when a soldier drives past and sees your white uniform in within the trees. He’s yelling, calling you a traitor for conspiring with the public with such suspicion. You tell the kid to run when you stand up and he does, your hands are lifted and you turn around when the soldier spots the kid disappear into the trees.

He shoots you in the chest, you think it pierced your lung, and you drop to the ground. He leaves you in that woods but you’re just thankful he didn’t pursue that precious child into the woods. Your chest heaves with heartbreak each shallow breath you take - Satoru, your eyelids feel heavy the more you take a breath. You love him, despite it all, you love Satoru - always have, always did.

Your eyes reach the sky, it’s flimmering with birght stars. You think if you concentrate hard enough, it’ll show you the cosmos that are in Satoru’s eyes. You take the ring out of your pocket and do you best with one hand to slide it on your ring finger.

“I do, Satoru, I do.”

You do love him, and you think broadly if he had asked for your hand you would’ve replied the same as well.

It’s 4 years after you disappeared - only Satoru thinks that, but others beg to differ. After the martial law was overrun in that city, violence was eradicated and Satoru decided to no longer pursue his fight as a military man - that time of his life showed him that being a part of the military wasn’t what his morals were - plus it wasn’t what you wanted too.

After you hadn’t showed the night after, he clutched your ring tightly to manifest that you would come back to him someday - but he didn’t mean 3 years later.

“It’s - It’s her, they found her,” Suguru whispers, and Satoru stops. Time stops for him, everything stops.

Satoru is brave, the bravest soldier his superior would preach about, but he isn’t brave enough to see what was left of you. So he clutches the ring that was found with you, his wails come violently like his soul is being ripped from him. Your cousin is the only one to comfort him, she’s no longer bitter about everything because if that didn’t happen she wouldn’t have met her now husband and son. So she comforts him as a thank you.

After a month, Satoru visits your grave. He weeps at your photo, his body curled on the grass; he’ll never see you again, he’ll never remind you how his love bleeds for you every time, and he’ll never know what you wanted to say that night.

He loved you for three years, still loved you for another and will forever love you until he gets to greet you again.

His dog tag dangles with both your rings.

“I’ll keep these clean for you for the next time I see you, my love, wait for me okay?”

#this was inspired by one edit and here we are #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #jjk #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk imagine #gojo satoru x reader #gojo angst

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webslingingslasher · 7 months

Note

tw: depression

hey! i was wondering, how would peter react or take care of reader with depression? can be either nerdy or frat peter or any peter rly :)

sorry i am very much kinda really going thru it rn 😞

felt that. depression is fucking brutal, anon. i'm here for you and i hope you're taking care of yourself for now.

you don't move when your window opens. you haven't moved for hours, you couldn't draw up enough energy to turn or eat, or breathe. the wall in front of you hasn't changed, it's been a blank slate of emptiness. just like the pit inside you.

'i know you're not sleeping.' it's teasing, your heart doesn't have it in you to perk up. you don't feel excited peter showed up, nothing could top the numbness that's burrowed its way into your chest and mind.

'you haven't texted me back all day, i was about to send a smoke signal.' your bones feel sharp, the idea of rolling over to face him stings, you think you'll shatter into a million pieces. you have nothing left to give, even talking seems exhausting.

'baby?' peter knows somethings wrong, he thinks he knows what's wrong. you had a good stretch, it had been months before the depression caught up and sent you bedrotting.

peter can't imagine how it feels for you, but for him, watching you go through this, kills him inside.

your mattress sinks, you close your eyes when peter reaches out for you, his hand on your skin is the most warmth you felt all day. it's peter; your rock, your safety net, your protector.

you think it's the first time you've talked all day. you had a permanent lump in your throat and you knew just by opening your mouth the tears would start.

but it's okay, because peter is here.

'i'm really sad today.' it's all it takes, your shoulders shake with your sobs, how could you feel everything and nothing all at once? peter's soft whispers have you curling into yourself. you don't deserve him, he doesn't deserve this.

'oh, honey.' it's full of love, his nose brushes your shoulder like a puppy asking to be pet. 'wanna give me a hug?' your voice wavers on your answer, it's raw and scratchy, begging to be hydrated, you don't think you've even had water today.

'yes, please.' your cheeks feel sticky but peter's holding you tightly, yet softly, it's like he's trying to hold you together. it's working. 'i'm sorry.' you feel bad. you should be more for him.

'don't be. i want to be here for you, and when you can only give twenty percent, i've got the other eighty. i love you. always and forever. no matter what.'

he needs to add the end, he needs to because he knows how it weighs down in your mind. how you've told him over and over it's unfair he has to put up with this and how he doesn't deserve what you bring to the table.

peter told you he's got a big fucking table and it's got more than enough room for your "mess." you don't say the silent part out loud anymore but he knows you still think it. peter would never admit it to you, but sometimes he really hates your brain and the way it thinks about yourself when your depression sets in.

it's selfish, you hate it about yourself but you need a reason to keep going.

'can you tell me how sad you would be if i died?' to anyone else it would sound morbid, to peter it means you're feeling better. peter slightly rocks you in his lap, he hums like he needs to think.

'you think you're depressed? just you wait, i'll make this look estatic.' a smile teases, he's determined to get you laughing. 'i mean it. i'd be on my knees, tears and snot all over my face, holding your hand at your funeral. i'd probably throw myself down the hole with you.'

it works, it's minuscule but you gave him a real smile and a tiny laugh. it's because you're picturing the teary-snotted face he'd be sporting and he's totally okay with that.

peter presses kisses over your hairline, he's speaking from the heart and you can feel it.

'because if you're not living, i wouldn't have a reason to either.'

#nerdy!peter drabbles

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a-simple-imagine · 10 months

Text

Help! My Girlfriend just Fell Down The Alt - Right Supe Supremist Pipeline pt.2

Requested by anonymous: “could you write a cate hurt/comfort where unlike andre's coward ass u actually fix her 🫶 pls and tyy”

Pairing: Cate Dunlap x fem!reader

Words: 1.3k+

A/N - turned this request into part 2 of my other cate story because i'm obsessed with the idea of cate dating an empath. you don’t have to read the first part

WARNINGS - mention of murder, death and blood

PREV //

it's a bright sunny day but the air is polluted with the rich taste of fear; a chaotic blend of fear and anger. you don't know what to do. where to go. you thought you left this behind when you ran. your head aches. heart hammering in your chest. all around you students and faculty scramble in search of safety. Bodies litter the ground. blood drowns the lush green grass. and you are powerless to stop it. useless. this school housed so many heroes but your powers were far from useful. you're almost frozen in time. this very spot on the godu campus, your newfound home. waiting. waiting for the inevitable moment someone notices and you end up just another casualty.

it's so hard to focus with the swirling emotions that invade your head. every inch of your body burned with other people's pain. everyone was feeling so much; too much. it hurt. it felt like your brain might explode. you kinda wish it would. but despite it all your eyes settle on familiar blonde hair. beautiful blue eyes stained deep red. Cate. you had left so abruptly. perhaps you should be more apprehensive right now. but you feel no ill intentions.

"h-hey," it's a pathetic murmur restrained by the pounding in your head. She was your girlfriend and you could hardly say a word. You're not even sure what you could say to rectify this. murdering dean Shetty was one thing. a sad attempt at vengeance. it was hard enough to ignore but this? this came across as insane. this was too much. you had told the others you would deal with Cate not because you actually thought you could help but because you were scared of what they would do. Cate was public enemy one on the campus today.

"I've been looking for you," there's a tenderness to her voice. a softness she reserved for you; especially right now. her emotions are hard to shift through when mixed with so many others. too many others. but a deep anger settles over you. you know it's not directed at you. it's fighting with a desire to have you understand her point of view.

"you have to stop this cate," if only it was that straightforward. if words were enough this wouldn't have happened. you wouldn't have to beg your girlfriend to stop her lethal rampage. even if she physically was not the one killing. it's a weird position to be in. one that fills your stomach with a bottomless darkness pit... or maybe that was just the scene before you. either way, you felt nauseated.

"we're actually getting somewhere," there was an overwhelming weariness to her voice. She was clearly exhausted; struggling to stand straight as she clarified her frustration. you knew well the toll her powers took. that pang of fear every time you've watched her overdo it. you wonder how many people she has pushed into doing her bidding. how much her brain must hurt. how much she needs to rest. even how many people are dying under her authority. "people need to know what was going on here. We aren't just lab rats for Vought- we deserve respect."

"I agree," a flicker of surprise almost sends the blonde tumbling to the ground. "we deserve respect but this isn't how to get it. just stop and we can- we can figure this out." it takes everything in you to risk a step closer. pinpointing her feelings amongst the rest. it was a hazy feeling; tingly almost. you couldn't quite decipher what belonged to who still.

"Why can't you see that this is the only way," she implores. "it's the only way they'll listen."

"it's not worth it Cate," you express. "you're hurting innocent people-"

"they're not innocent." she snarls. Red-hot anger bursts through your veins. your jaw tenses. fist clenched. "you heard what Shetty said. they think we're freaks. they hate us-" You don't want to think about Shetty; you couldn't. it was too much. too taxing. the blood. so much blood. so much bitterness. an unsteady breath pushes its way past your lips.

"you're hurting me, Cate," you bark; fuelled by Cate's fear. her emotions were taking over. driving you forward. "all these emotions- all this fear. my head is on fire. it's too much. I can't- I can't handle it."

"I'm sorry," she sighed, dragging her eyes away. almost like she was unable to bear looking at the suffering she was causing. "I know this is hard for you, I wish it didn't have to be but this is the only way. I'm protecting us. I'm protecting you." you didn't need to be a mind reader to know Cate's intentions. her misguided desire for retribution. more fuelled by revenge for how she has been treated than a will to help people. she's explained it all already.

"Cate..." her name slips tenderly from your lips; biting back her fire that's burning inside. "I don't need protecting. I just- I need you." your desperate now. desperate for the pain to stop. for Cate to give up this crazy crusade. you wanted to go back to how things were. you wanted to hold her hand as you walked across campus to class each morning. wanted to surprise her with a cupcake after a hard day. cuddle up in bed while you watch the cheesiest movie known to man just because she enjoyed it. you wanted normal. you deserved that. you all did. "we can figure this out. I promise we can- just give me a chance." you continue. "I don't wanna lose you." you know she's hesitant by the way her eyes flicker to you and then away again. searching for a reason to deny you. to push you away further. her anger was no longer a raging fire but a muted flame as your words settled over her. "please," expressed softly. "we can get through this together." she could read your mind. She must know you are being genuine.

"Okay," the blonde mumbles, finally meeting your gaze. such pretty eyes even stained with abuse of power. "yeah," she nods a little; holding out her hand. you pause. it would mark a sign of trust. She didn't have her glove which meant that there was a possibility this was just a trick. if you take her hand she could make you do whatever she wanted. she could push you into believing her philosophy. She could kill you if she wanted. surely she wouldn't though? your girlfriend had never used her powers on you. She used to be all about consent. but you also thought she wasn't capable of murder and look at how that turned out. she was probably in your head listening. could hear your doubt. you watch a sadness wash over her face as she retracts her peace offering and in a panic, you roughly grab her hand. it's unexpected even by you. but you couldn't give up on her. you loved Cate, you wanted to trust her. you needed to trust that she was still good.

"I trust you" blurted out loudly. drowning in her anger. in her pain and fear. it's all so much. your legs buckle and it takes significant effort to stay upright. there is a glimpse of something unexplained in her eyes. Cate was the most important person to you. you struggle to watch your paths diverge before you have a chance to tell her your feelings. She probably knew. there was no hiding with Cate. not anymore. but she couldn't hide from you either. you can feel everything. our emotions expose true intentions. and even amongst all the dread, there was a warmth radiating through now like the sun breaking through dark clouds. She held bright feelings for you. you could feel her passion radiating.

"you... trust me?" Cate asks. her voice quiet. unsure.

"I trust you," you give her hand a gentle squeeze. "I just wanna help you- let me help you."

her eyes search yours for a moment before arms are wrapped around your shoulders and Cate falls against you. you stumble back under the weight of her body; the weight of her emotions. but you still hold on tight. chasing that beautifully warm feeling. "just me and you."

"Always," whispered softly.

#cate dunlap #gen v #the boys #cate dunlap x reader #jordan li

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sswiftiestars · 11 months

Text

seductions—chapter one

gf! sam monroe x fem!reader

tws/cws: mentions of murder, angsty, mentions of ED and self harm, vomiting, manipulation, swearing, y/n isnt used i think, petnames, kinda sexual at the end, non-con kinda but not really

summary: When you find out one of your best friends was murdered by the neighborhood serial killer, you head to school sad. Struggling to stay sane, you end up experiencing something unexpected.

You sob into your pillow as you read the local newspaper, reading; WEDNESDAY 5/07/03: WESTON HIGH SCHOOL TEEN NAMED MARY LOUISE FOUND DEAD AT 17, KILLED IN HER OWN HOME AFTER A MYSTERIOUS PHONE CALL.

it showed a picture of her, making everything 10x worse. she was your best friend, and there she was, dead and buried. you continued to sob into your pillow when you realized you had to get to school. how would you be able to survive after this? you sniffle a few times and put on a pink cardigan with a mini skirt, thigh highs and some cute sneakers. Sadly, you put on your backpack (which was baby pink, obviously) and head out the door without eating.

once you arrive to school, you don’t put any effort into talking to anyone, and you make your way to the auditorium, where a assembly will be taken place on..recent events. you sit down at a empty area when after a few minutes, someone taps your shoulder from the seat behind you. you turn around and see Sam, one of your closest friends.

“are you okay, angel? you ignored me when i tried to come up to you earlier.” he says sadly, giving you a soft pout of disappointment. You shrug, visibly less energetic then usual. “m’ fine, sam. it’s just..” you start, tears threatening to leave your eyes, “you know.” you say, looking away from him. sam sighs and climbs over and sits in the seat next to you, ignoring that he just accidentally kicked someone in the leg. “listen, angel.” sam coos, grasping his hand at your chin and turns your head to look at him directly, “I’m sorry about what happened to mary, but..eveything happens for a reason, right?” he says, trying to comfort you, but ending up sounding slightly sadistic.

you squint your eyes at him, about to speak when the principal talks into the microphone at the auditorium stage, peaking you and sam’s attention. “Good morning, everyone.” he starts, his voice echoing through the room. “i would just like to take a moment and..talk about recent events.” he says. you already know he’ll be talking about mary, corey, and some of the other students who have been lost. you don’t want to hear about it anymore, it just adds on to the indescribable feeling in your chest.

Sam somehow senses you discomfort, and reaches over to hold your hand, carressing your palm with his thumb. you blush slightly. “Mary was a great friend to all of you.” the principal says solemnly, “she will not be forgotten.” behind you, you hear two of the jocks, logan and aiden, snickering. you turn your head around and glare at them, and sam does the same. something about sam’s stare at them was..unsettling. the two jocks immediately stopped laughing, sam’s unsettling stare scaring the shit out of them, to say the least.

sam will definitely be remembering them, for later.

The principal continues talking about mary, and then sam leans over to whisper to you, “i’ll be right back, sunshine. stay here f’ me.” you nod in response and watch as he walks out of the auditorium. assuming he’s just going to the bathroom, you continue listening to the principals speech about mary and corey. the more he talks, the more sad you get, and the more angry you get at the person who killed them so brutally. After a while, you notice that sam is still gone. a pit in your stomach starts to form, as you start to get extremely anxious. Carefully, you stand up and walk out of the auditorium. you make your way to the girls bathroom. You walk into a stall and lock the door. Suddenly, a wave of nausea waves over you. “when was the last time i ate?” you think to yourself. your thoughts are cut short when you suddenly bend over the toilet and vomit, you really should’ve ate breakfast. after a couple minutes of..intense sickness, you flush the toilet and walk out of the stall. You try not to cry as you walk to the sink, and wash your hands and wash your face, hoping to make yourself feel better. as you raise your head, you see something in the mirror behind you.

a hooded figure in a mask.

you ignore it at first, thinking you might be hallucinating from all of the pills you’ve been taking. But that’s when you hear a metal sound from behind you. You turn around instantly, water still dripping from your face and hands.

He…or she..or they, wave at you, knife in hand. you instinctively run towards the door and try to open it.

of course it’s fucking closed.

“fuck.” you say under your breath and turn back around, and the masked figure..doesn’t run towards you? he walks closer to you as you stand there, paralyzed in fear. before you know it, he pins you against the cold wall of the bathroom, and whispers in your ear, “stay quiet or you’ll end up like your good friend mary.” you gasp, trying to recognize his voice, but his voice is awfully distorted. fuck, is he using a voice changer?

you nod. he runs his gloved hand down your body until he reaches underneath your skirt. You feel your underwear dampen, and you curse yourself silently for that. the masked stranger cups your core through your panties, eliciting a soft whimper from your throat. He pulls his hand away, a smirk underneath his mask that you wish you could see are glad you can’t see. he walks out of the bathroom after that, leaving you confused and still aroused.

did the neighborhood serial killer just touch my pussy?you think to yourself and let out a slight cackle, even though it’s not that funny. unable to leave your position, you stand there, wondering what to do. you’re definitely traumatized for sure—but at least it felt good. after what seemed like forever, you walk back to the auditorium and sit down next to sam and let out a sigh. at least he’s okay.

“hey, what took you so long?” sam smirks and nudges you playfully. you shrug, “i felt sick, it’s nothing really.”

“Good thing you’re still alive, i was worried that someone snuck in there.” he jokes, although his tone is a bit sinister. you laugh it off nervously, and listen to the principals incredibly long speech for the next hour.

in that hour, you find yourself thinking about what happened, something inside of you wishing the masked stranger did more with you. You brushed off the thought, sighing to yourself.

maybe someday you’ll lose your virginity, and today was almost the day.

tags: @g4sstationdr-gs , ask if u wanna b added!

#Spotify #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin x reader #hayden christensen #star wars smut #anakin smut #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe x y/n #sam monroe #ghostface sam

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onmyyan · 1 year

Text

Sharing is Caring (2/3)

A/N:OKAY BABES ITS HERE AHHHAGGH SO EXCITED THIS TOOK AGES BEC LIFE N SHIT BUT ANYWAY WHOOO SO EXCITED Anyway few things, this chapter gets kinda steamy but all the explicit smuts will be in part 3 its gonna be pure filth, after editing this mf came out to 28.3 pages and 10,275 words so I had to split it up, for those of you disappointed by the lack of horny never fear, the smut chapter is about 60% done and as soon as I post this I'm going back to working at it anyway please enjoy hope you like it!! feedback is welcome. Mi amada = My beloved

TW'S: YANDERE, KIDNAPPING, WEED MENTION, PAST MURDER MENTION

To say your day had been a bad one would have been putting it lightly.

It started out fine enough, you awoke to several of your usual good mornings, each Delmont had their own unique way of greeting you, and after taking the time to sleepily respond to each of them, you started your morning routine, fighting the urge to fall back into the warmth of your bed, your eyes struggled to remain open.

See you'd spent the better half of last night scrolling through your personal feeds, hours upon hours of cute couples blaring their love in your face, blatant affection everywhere you looked, shameless PDA, and grand romantic gestures.

The tooth-rotting fluff didn't usually bug you, but something about this particular onslaught of romance brought out this tidal wave of loneliness and envy.

It felt murky and heavy and you hated every second of it.

The five Delmont boys had grown into your found family, and usually, their antics didn't allow you the space to feel alone, but even that immense affection couldn't fill the hole that had steadily begun to grow in your chest.

Years upon years of no one showing genuine romantic interest in you had slowly but surely carved out a pit of self-loathing in your gut. Something you managed to hold off being consumed by until now.

Falling in love seemed like such an expected life event, from movies to songs and stories, people falling in love were everywhere you looked, and even though the little voice in your head tried to reassure you that you were just a late bloomer, the dark thoughts still haunted you well into the morning.

Brushing your teeth with a focused vigor, your mind began to reel as you stopped to really think about it all, the state of your love life or rather, lack thereof, how you've never been in a relationship, never been on a date, hell if it weren't for Marcos, you'd have to add never been kissed to the pitiful list, the older twin had been your first and only kiss when you were seventeen, but that was just him being a good friend in your time of need, of that you were certain.

You can remember it so clearly, sitting idly in your room, still living at the Delmont house, you'd been silently stewing in your sadness for a few hours by the time he found you.

What brought on this sour mood was a few offhanded jokes at your expense, you know those people you're only 'friends' with in class? Well, one of those girls, Lisa, had teased you relentlessly for the entire hour of biology when you'd accidentally let it slip you'd never kissed someone before.

And while she may have been joking, the words still left the strangest sting in your stomach, it made you feel weird, an odd cocktail of shame and embarrassment, and it wasn't as if you didn't want to kiss someone, you just didn't have many- scratch that, any options.

No one but the boys ever talked to you at school, for some strange reason, everyone else seemed to avoid you like the plague, cruel whispers of your name said behind even crueler stares, the twins usually swooped in before you could think to question the odd looks, but it was impossible not to notice.

Marcos found you curled into a fetal position on your bed, stuffed animals surrounding you in a protective barrier, he'd originally come upstairs with the intention of collecting you for dinner, there was this unspoken rule between the boys that whoever brought you down got to sit next to you at the table, but when he entered he could practically feel your sadness hanging in the air, his brows furrowed at the sight, instantly clocking your upset mood, he quickly switched gears, his face scrunching in visible concern.

One thing about Marcos was his inability to hide how he was feeling.

"What's wrong? What happened?" he toyed with the small silver ball in his ear, his nerves on edge at the sight of that look on your face, he hated seeing you upset, all the boys did, he didn't wait for an answer before rushing the rest of the way inside, kicking the door shut with his foot.

"No Co'- I'm fine, just tired." You used his nickname, trying in vain to put on a brave face but you knew in your heart of hearts that trying to lie to a Delmont was all but impossible. "Is dinner done? I hope she made adobo again god it's so good-" You tried to get up and walk downstairs but he stopped you with a gentle push of your shoulders, gently leading you back into a seated position, he gave a comforting squeeze before letting go, now standing before you with his hands on his hips, the image made you want to laugh, he looked a lot like his mother when she was about to scold him for something.

"Nah- we ain't leaving this room till you tell me what's up."

His insistence caused you to roll your pretty (e/c) eyes at the taller male, the way you crossed your arms, paired with that damn pout on your lipgloss-lined lips was a foul combo that had his heart skipping all kinds of beats. It took all his willpower not to squish your cheeks together.

"Why do you assume something's up?"

"Cuz' I know you dummy." He said so softly, it immediately disarmed you, his hand gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and you felt your chest tighten at the action.

"I swear I'm good okay? Can we just go eat? My stomach is touching my back." Usually, by this point, your puppy-dog eyes would make him fold, he was, and still is, rather weak to your whims, but he held strong.

Flopping beside you on the bed, he shuffled to lay on his right side, making sure to maintain eye contact, his hand began toying with one of his longer necklaces, his red eyes rolling as he spoke, "Mhm, right, okay. Quick question, how are you sitting there so calmly when your pants are clearly on fire?"

You gasped laughing slightly, "How dare you come into my domain and call me a liar? Have you no shame?" He smiled to himself knowing his plan to cheer you up was working, "C'moooon tell me whats wronggggg- I won't stop whining till ya fess up pleaseeeeeeee-" you threw a pillow at his head, "Okay! okay just shut up! Damn.."

You felt yourself hesitate, as if not speaking the words made them any less true.

"-Lisa kinda clowned me in class today cuz' I," the words turned to ash on your tongue, the embarrassment flushing your skin with an uncomfortable heat, to be admitting something so childish to someone as promiscuous as Marcos, felt all the more humiliating, and you didn't think you could handle him laughing at you.

"You can tell me anything Mi amada." You could hear the sincerity in the soft way he spoke, all playfulness gone.

How seriously he took your emotions managed to ease your fear of rejection enough to blurt out, "I haven't ever um- kissed anyone, and it made me feel, I dunno kinda bad I guess?" you laughed softly, that uncomfortable wave of shame echoing through your body, "She was just kiddin' around." You added that last bit knowing how overprotective he could get, god forbid he told Manny, you tried again to laugh it off, beginning to play with the ears of the blue stuffed bunny Gabe had given you years ago, the action was a wonderful alternative to holding Marcos's now burning stare.

He was quiet for a moment which was concerning since Marcos was never quiet. Suddenly sitting straight up, he ever so softly took the stuffed bunny from your hands to interlock your fingers. His intense, warm gaze held you frozen in place like a statue.

His tongue poked out to flick over his bottom lip, a nervous tick of his, and he swallowed before whispering,

"Kiss me then."

Marcos spoke it so softly, sounding so breathless. You laughed on instinct, thinking he was teasing, but when he remained silent, smiling at you like you held all the stars in the sky, you felt the heat crawl up your skin.

"Ha ha very amusing Co'-" you threw a pillow toward his chest with your free hand, "Cides' I don't want my first one to be some kinda' pity kiss from my best friend because he felt bad." Once more you played it off, trying desperately to ignore the funny feeling that had blossomed in your stomach, waiting for him to quit the game and stop the joke.

Only Marcos wasn't laughing.

"Who the fuck said anything about pity? You should know me well enough by now- I never say anything I don't mean." He leaned over, close enough where you could see the small constellation of freckles just under his eyes, you'd never noticed them before. He was far enough away not to pressure you, but the invitation was clear.

"But- we, um I-" Your mind was racing with hundreds of thoughts, and as if he sensed this, he let go of one hand to brush the hair from your face, his thumb lingering to swipe across your cheek in a feather-like touch, it felt like he had electricity in his fingertips, he stared into your eyes with an intensity you couldn't quite place.

"Don't think so hard." He smiled as he spoke, the words whispered against your lips, you were so close you could feel each of his shaky exhales, he looked back and forth from your eyes to your lips, waiting on bated breath for your response.

Allowing your eyes to flutter shut, you relaxed your posture and simply fell into the moment, now both of his hands were on your face, pulling you in that much deeper, his lips were soft and tasted faintly of cherry chapstick, one of his hands moved to cradle the back of your neck, holding you against him as he moved his mouth against yours in what felt like a well-practiced dance. His tongue swiped against your plush lips ever so slightly as you pulled away, skin flushed and hearts pounding.

He didn't allow the budding tension to take over, instead, he sat back with his familiar grin. "There, easy fix." he swiped at his lips with his thumb, sticking the appendage between his teeth in a daring display. The way you tasted, how perfect you felt in his arms, he could feel the addiction settling in, and happily surrendered himself to it.

He knew at that moment no one else would ever compare to you, to the way you made him feel. And despite how simple, the relatively innocent kiss you just shared was, it had him the hardest he'd ever been in his life, thankfully you seemed so flustered and dazed he was able to hide the tent in his pants with a well-placed pillow.

You'd both gone down to dinner after locking pinkies and swearing never to tell another soul, you assuming he simply didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea about you two, but really he was covering his ass, knowing if any of the others found out he'd gotten to be your first kiss, he wouldn't be walking for a while, Gabe had promised to break both ankles if he ever touched you, a threat he knew was no joke, but to Marcos, it was well worth the risk, he hated seeing you so upset about something he could very easily change, so he did, and he couldn't be happier.

The two of you had matching, knowing smiles on your faces that night, he even shot you a wink before bed, you couldn't get the giddy feeling to go away for weeks, even though you knew it was just him being a good friend, the warmth that had blossomed couldn't be undone.

These spiraling thoughts haunted you like a ghost, that is until you looked down at your coffee pot and remembered the cute guy who slipped you his number a few days ago. Normally you'd just let the small piece of paper go unused, too afraid to make a fool of yourself to actually reach out, but today was different.

Fueled by your melancholy thoughts, you quickly texted him before you could talk yourself out of it, and it seemed to be going well, the banter was flirty enough, if nothing else it would be fun to play dress up, so you began a feverish rush to get ready, and in that time, Manny had invited himself in while you rushed through a shower.

The redhead did this often, so you didn't blink when you heard him enter in his usual brand of loud. "Oh, honey I'm home!"

"In the shower!" You felt rude leaving him out there so you sped through the last of your routine and found him lying comfortably on your bed, face buried in his phone. He offered you a familiar, wolf-like grin before turning his attention back to the screen, you'd known him so long the action of dressing in front of him wasn't anything to bat an eye at, "Sorry- didn't know you were coming over or I woulda' showered sooner, you don't mind if I get ready right?"

"Mmhm" was his simple response so you continued with your routine, rambling nervously about your plans.

He appeared as chipper as usual, that is until you told him about your date, it was as if the energy in the room shifted into something- else.

He seemed to be in this state of disbelief, questioning how and when this happened, ignoring the sting in your chest at the thought of him not believing you, and all the ugly thoughts it brought up, you continued to browse through your wardrobe, hoping the search for a cute set of bottoms would help you push through your nerves about it all before you could ask why he found the concept so unbelievable, you'd heard his rushed goodbye, the slam of the door made you jump in place, nearly dropping the garment because that was weird as hell.

Manny always hugged you goodbye, so his running off made you pause, it was instinctual for you to comfort him when he got worked up in that way only Manny could, so you were just about to call him to double-check but were interrupted by your date's number popping up on the screen.

His name was Michael and he sounded so shy when he called to double confirm your attendance, you found his eagerness cute. you silently vowed to check in with your friend after the date and hyped yourself for the night to come.

As the evening began, you found yourself waiting idly by the table, he'd chosen a bit of an upscale bistro as your meeting spot so you felt the need to dress up a bit, a cute black turtleneck dress covered your body like a second skin, hugging your curves in all the right ways, the cashmere number was a gift from Gabe ages ago, and his flustered reaction to seeing you come out of that dressing room is what pushed you to bring it home, you knew your ass looked incredible in the outfit, paired with the knee length, black crushed-velvet boots, you felt hot as hell and were excited to see your date's reaction.

Only you never got the chance.

Thirty minutes go by with no sign of Michael.

What was supposed to be a fun night out quickly soured into an evening of humiliation as your date ignored your call for the third time since you'd arrived. You felt the shame creep up as you faced the cold hard fact, you'd been stood up.

Feeling utterly stupid for getting all primped and preened for some douche who didn't even have the nerve to cancel, you resigned yourself to the sad reality.

I mean he asked you out! He even bothered to make sure you were coming, all that to so coldly blow you off?

A disheartened breath escaped your lips as you let your head meet the table with a thunk. You quickly excused yourself from the restaurant, tossing the money for the wine you'd had with shakey hands. Tears had rushed to your eye, building at the waterline, but you didn't want to cry, not yet.

You'd done well not to fall to the urge to curl up and sob, kicking your boots off at the door, uncaring of the way they nearly knocked over a plant, it wasn't until a second later when the silence of your home became glaringly loud, did it all become too much.

Throwing yourself onto the couch, you buried your face in the soft cushion and wept like a baby. Shoulders shaking, voice cracking cries left your form. After a good fifteen minutes of crying as hard as you could, you wiped at your flush face and shuffled your way to the bottle of some half-empty whiskey, Marcos had left in your cabinet ages ago.

He'd pitch a full fit if he saw you chasing his 100$ liquor with the Coke you had in your fridge, the thought of the male made a new round of sobs bubble past your wet lips, you'd always held a candle of affection for the tall redhead, of course, you loved all of the Delmont's but you'd always had a little crush on Marcos, you compared it to the feeling of crushing on a celebrity, where your subconscious mind knows they're out of reach, so it feels like a harmless fantasy.

Love came to him so effortlessly, and he discarded it just as easily, the nasty feeling of envy came up and you quickly shook your head, choosing to drown the thoughts in the burning amber liquid rather than face them.

About an hour after your failed excursion, you found yourself resting comfortably on the kitchen floor, back pressed into the cool metal of your fridge, the whiskey bottle now empty, you'd taken to rolling it back and forth between your foot and the wall, allowing yourself to just be lost in the hazy sensations around you.

The shrill ring of your doorbell burst your blissfully drunk bubble.

"Go 'way.." you slurred from your rather relaxed position on the floor, the sexy outfit you'd put on just to show off was bunched at your waist for comfort, the knock came again, this time followed by the voice of one of your best friends.

"Sugarplum? It's us, can we come in?" Manny whined from behind the wood, you could practically see the pout on his face, of course, he had a key so it was really more of a formality than an actual question.

He didn't wait for your response, instead shuffling his way inside, the greasy takeout in his hand had you crawling across the floor to meet him halfway.

A happy and clearly drunk gasp left your wine-stained lips, "Manny! you didn't gimmie a hug earlier what was up with that?-Oh shit is that Taco Bell?" He made a noise of agreement holding the bag towards you. "Sure is, and m'sorry about before Hun, I was in a mood but I promise it wasn't your fault."

His voice was like warm sugar as he spoke, now kneeling beside you, he held his arms out eagerly accepting the somewhat sloppy hug you threw his way. "Now, can you let Marcos pick you up so you can eat baby?" His hands rubbed up and down your arms, bringing goosebumps to the surface.

With a few slow but determined nods, you happily agreed, turning to face Manny's other half.

The older of the two had squatted down beside you, his ring-clad hand moved to brush a few sweat-soaked curls from your head. "Hey princess." He smiled softly at your pretty flushed face, the way you stared up at him, had his pulse thumping. "Heeey good lookin' you come here often?" You threw your hands around his neck which gave him the perfect opportunity to scoop you up, he led you to the couch, setting you down as if you were made of porcelain. He sent his twin a subtle nod as he moved you.

"How was your date?" Marcos's honey-dipped voice cooed from his position beside you, the action sent vibrations down your back making you flinch away from him with an airy giggle. "Wellllll, kinda hard to rate it when the guy doesn't show up." You sighed hastily digging through the bag Mammy had given you.

"What a scumbag- I'd never leave you by your lonesome like that." He cupped your flushed cheek, gently rubbing his thumb along the underside of your jaw. Food momentarily forgotten you dropped the bag in your lap, shoulders sagging with all the weight of the failed night, "Promise?" You asked, getting teary-eyed all over again.

He felt his chest tighten at the sight, as pretty as you looked right now, he was the only one allowed to make you cry, anyone else doing it was basically a war crime in his eyes. "Cross my heart and hope to die, baby." He threw an arm over the couch allowing you space to cuddle into his side.

When you were good and comfy he turned you to face him with the lightest touch to your chin, "You see this?" He slipped the ring on his pointer finger off, and gently lowered the band around your thumb. "This makes my promise official."

Manny had suddenly appeared before you, a small cup in his hands.

"Hey sweetie, you finished off Marco's bottle huh?" He smiled at the dazy way you nodded yes, fighting the urge to gush over your cuteness, "Well I don't want you to be sick tomorrow, can you take these for me? Good girl." You'd opened your mouth without question, having nothing but trust in the two men before you, you let him hold the cup to your lips and swallowed, mumbling a sleepy "thank you." into the skin of Marco's neck. His full body shiver goes unnoticed by you.

The twins watched you fall under with laser-focused eyes, the hardest part would be peeling Marcos away from you long enough for him to do his job.

Once they had both you and your stuff tucked away snugly in the car, Manny insisted on being in the back with you, holding you close to his chest, in your sleep, you held him back, quickly becoming overwhelmed by all the good emotions pumping through his veins- at his love for you, he felt himself get a bit teary at the sight of you finally where you belonged, safe in his arms.

Marcos made good and sure to wipe away any evidence of them being there, and all but ran back to their car to begin the long drive to your forever house.

Back at said home, the eldest of the brothers was doing one last walkthrough to make everything perfect for his Honey's arrival.

Caspian had managed to make the home feel lived in from the few hours he had to prep, a fully stocked kitchen, your favorite scent wafting gently through the air, Ricky had the foresight to install dimmer switches in every room because he knew how you loathed the 'big light', your bedroom had the biggest bed Caspian had ever seen, he'd made sure everything was ready for your arrival, even taking the time to warm your blankets in the dryer.

He moved around the space with a fluidness surprising for someone of his size, already familiar with the layout, the eldest Delmont made his final rounds around the home, making extra sure all the locks and exits were secure, he knew eventually, you'd come to love it here, but he also understood you'd need some time to adjust, these were just precautions.

He nearly squealed when he got the text from the twins, you were finally here! Finally home. He couldn't wait to hug you, kiss you, and give you all the affection he'd been forced to hold back. But he was a patient man and knew you'd be overwhelmed if he did, so instead, he settled for scooping you out of the car, much to his younger brother's displeasure.

You snuggled into his warmth in your sleep, to which he couldn't help but coo over. "Welcome home Honey," he whispered into the crown of your head, a small kiss left as he gently, but hurriedly rushed you inside and away from the snowfall that had just begun.

Manny nearly tackled his twin when they entered their new house, his energy was off the roof, practically buzzing in place as he took in their dream home. The living room had a 70's style conversation pit where you all could relax and they could smother you in the affection you so clearly needed.

A part of him was still bitter about the date, not at you, never at you, but the feeling was there, and all he wanted to do right now was hold you to his chest and let the lull of your heartbeat calm him down. Marcos plopped himself on the soft cushioned couch with a troubling sigh and waved him over.

"What's up? You got a weird look on your face." Manny couldn't fathom his twin being anything other than elated right now, so the odd air around him didn't sit well with the youngest.

"C'mere for a sec Little man- we gotta go over some ground rules before she wakes up." Manny's smile fell as he complied, sitting with a pout, "Ground rules are how we ended up here in the first place." He all but sneered, arms crossed in visible frustration.

Marcos held his hands up in a show of surrender. "I get it, but this is different."

"I know you're excited, god I am too, but there's a real chance she won't be too happy when she wakes up." The older of the two now sat hunched over, his elbows on his knees as he tried to find the right words to explain to his other half.

"What do you mean? This house was literally made for us all, we're in the woods like she's always talked about- she's gonna love it!" Marcos sighed taking his younger brother's hand, already he could feel him panicking at the thought of this going anything but swell.

"Think about it like this bud, she has no idea how we feel, this is gonna be the first time she hears it, and we feel a lot, so we gotta be delicate."

Manny felt his face scrunch in confusion, not able to understand why you wouldn't be happy. You'd never have to lift a finger again, no more bills, work or slimy coffee house creeps to prey on your sweetness, he knew you'd be your happiest here!

"Not to mention the whole waking up somewhere she didn't fall asleep thing." He licked his bottom lip, knowing he had to toe the line in fear of causing his younger brother's next breakdown.

"I'm just sayin' this in case she freaks out okay? I don't want you to be caught off guard- if she says anything mean or hurtful you can't lose your cool aight'?" Marcos watched his younger brother as he processed his words. Knowing his reaction could go either way.

After a tense moment of silence, there was a shift in Manny's expression, as if something clicked. He rubbed at his chin, and Marcos could practically see the gears in his head turning.

"..Okay, it's sorta' like when we brought home that feral kitty, can't hold it against her if we get a few scratches right?" Marcos felt himself relax nodding with a smile that mirrored Manny's. "That's exactly right Bud, C'mon when Cas comes out we can go in there, we should be the first faces she sees dontcha' think?"

Ricky and Gabe arrived at their new home at the same time. The ladder immediately headed straight for the shower as whatever it was he did to your date still stained his hands crimson. Gabe couldn't wipe the wild grin from his face if he wanted to, he felt like he'd just won the lottery.

Ricky had done exactly as he said he would and left a convincing trail of evidence that you were feeling a bit free-spirited and decided to take a little vacation, of course leaving out the where and with whom.

He made his way around your new home with a feeling of accomplishment, everything was perfect now.

You were safe, and once you got over whatever adjustment period you needed, he knew everyone would be happier than ever before. Caspian greeted his younger brother with a bear hug, his smile wider than Ricky had seen in years. "You did good Ricky, real good. This place is perfect." The praise made a weight lift off the long-haired man's shoulders, Caspian was the one he looked up to the most, so to hear such positive confirmation made him let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"I'm scared she's gonna' freak out- I don't want her to hate us-" he found his anxieties tumbling past his lips without permission, Caspian had that effect on people.

"She won't. Know why? Because this was the right call, we have all the time in the world to show her just how much we care okay? Don't stress it." He clapped a hand on his shoulder and began dragging him to the kitchen.

"C'mon I got too excited and kinda' made too much food."

Gabe took his time in the shower, letting the perfectly hot water wash away his sins of the night. Scratch that, he didn't consider his acts sins, or that of violence, rather, it was an act of love, putting that bastard in the ground for you was just him speaking his particular brand of love language.

The wicked smile curled upon his lips only widened as he watched the pink water turn clear, he was giddy at the thought of you sleeping peacefully just a few rooms away. You were here, like actually here. Nothing or no one would ever hurt you again, and most excitingly, he didn't have to hold back anymore, once you woke up he was going to spill his guts, and if his words of love weren't enough to convince you, he'd just have to show you how you effected him all these years.

Waking up in a slightly hungover haze in an entirely different place than you passed out in should have sent you into a panic, but the familiar feeling of being sandwiched between the twins killed any fear that may have come up, even half asleep and a little hungover, you knew you were always safe when a Delmont was around.

Before you could try to wrap your head around your new surroundings both Manny and Marcos were pressing a big fat kiss into each of your cheeks. "Morning sunshine." Manny sang sweetly, Marcos gave you a hug from the side mumbling his greeting into the skin of your neck. When they pulled away you were far too flustered to ask all the questions burning in your mind, instead, you returned the greetings and mutely followed behind them as Manny took your hand and began to lead you away from the wonderful room you'd woken up in.

Manny led you to the dining room of the seemingly massive house you resided in while Marcos went to shower (not before inviting you to join him of course), the youngest Delmont was as chatty as ever, rambling about everything and nothing but his words weren't registering, you definitely didn't remember coming to wherever the hell this was, and him acting so normal made you feel even weirder, as you shuffled forward the familiar sounds of the rest of the boys got louder and louder.

"Gabriel Miguel Delmont if you touch that bacon one more time I'm putting you outside like a dog." Caspian rarely yelled, even now when he was scolding the blue-haired giant he sounded more disappointed than angry, but it was his voice you noticed first.

"C'mon Cas I'm hungryyy-" you could hear the pout in Gabe's words, "I wanna' eat, there's no reason to wait it's not like we're running out of food anytime soon."

"Yeah well, people in hell want ice water so tough."

"Gabe shut up- Cas stop readjusting the silverware she's not gonna' notice."

"But she might!!" As you both rounded the corner the conversation fell deathly silent. Each man was overcome with their affection for you, it didn't help that you looked so damn cute rubbing the sleep from your eye.

"Mornin'?" You said after a good thirty seconds of them just staring. This seemed to restart them all as Caspian jumped to pull out a chair, his warm smile was infectious, and you found yourself returning it as you sat. "Holy hell Cas you made enough to feed an army."

The spread before you was truly something out of a movie, from savory grits to big fluffy waffles, he seemed to have made every one of your favorite breakfast dishes, and each looked picture-perfect, he was all but beaming as he stood beside you.

"Hope you're hungry." He laughed a bit, nervously flattening the baby pink apron covering his wide chest, he picked up the plate before you, staring down through his thick lashes with such warmth it made your heart race. "May I?" He gestured to the buffet and you nodded, mouth slightly agape as your brain tried to process the scene.

Ricky sat across from you, his long hair in a messy bun, a few strands fell out, framing his face, which speaking of was fixed in the most peaceful expression, you couldn't recall the last time he seemed so relaxed. For once he didn't look like he was moments away from falling asleep, instead, he seemed refreshed, like he'd caught up on all the rest he hadn't gotten over the years.

He stared at you with the softest look, licking his bottom lip before speaking, "Good morning love, did you sleep well?" He sipped at his mug, the cinnamon coffee scent wafted through the room, that cat-like stare of his never once leaving your form.

"Slept like the dead actually-" You figured now was good a time as any to bring up the elephant in the room. "Probably the best sleep I've gotten in ages- speaking of whose bed did I just wake up in?"

"Sorry for the holdup! Water's still warm if you wanna shower sweets." Marcos cut you off as he entered taking his seat by Manny who sat directly to your right, as he eagerly drank you in, the youngest seemed to be vibrating in his seat.

"You should eat, lord knows the last time you did." Gabe teased from his spot beside Ricky, he was the most unabashed in his staring, it felt as if he was just barely holding himself back from leaping across the table, to do what you had no idea, but the grip he had on his fork was cause for concern.

After Caspian deemed your plate full enough he set it before you, his large frame cast a shadow across the table as he leaned over, it almost sounded as if he smelled your hair as he pulled away to take the seat by your left.

"Okay everyone eat up, after you do I'll answer all your questions okay? No lies. Complete transparency." Ricky spoke as if reading your mind, he gave you that smile of his that always made you feel like everything was under control and you relinquished yourself to the five-star meal before you.

If you could ignore the new location, the scene you found yourself in felt rather familiar. Each man bickered with each other as you all ate, you could almost pretend you were back at their house. Gabe finished first as usual, going in for seconds when he asked you to pass him the eggs, his much larger hand gently brushed over your own, and based on the grin he was sporting after, the move was intentional.

Once everyone was finished you thanked Caspian for the meal and turned your attention to Ricky, who looked a bit nervous now. "Soo. This isn't my house?" Despite your casual and light-hearted tone, the atmosphere seemed to shift at that second.

"Yes, it is, just not your old one. And to answer your question from before, that was your bed you woke up in."

"Right. Okay sure- where exactly are we? It's snowing outside." Ricky took a moment to finish off his coffee before responding.

"We're home. Our new home and it's winter Darling, snow is expected for this area." The long-haired man seemed to choose his words carefully, putting extra emphasis on the word our.

"Okay. Um and how exactly did I get to this area? The last thing I remember was chilling at my place with things 1&2 over there." The twins stared at you bashfully, both suddenly looking everywhere but you.

You flicked your gaze over each of them, all looking rather anxious, Ricky opened his mouth to answer but Marcos beat him to the punch. "I- we brought you here last night." He gestured to his twin who was beaming at you. "We couldn't just leave you alone in the state you were in." He added, not technically a lie he reasoned mentally.

You nodded to yourself, wondering how to ask what you really wanted to know.

"You're wondering why right?" Caspian spoke up, his voice was gentle as if talking down a wounded, cornered animal.

You nodded, brows furrowed in confusion, not trusting your voice.

"Well-" he seemed to look to his brothers for confirmation before continuing, a red hue growing on his cheeks as he racked his mind for the right words, he had so much he wanted to say to you! Everything got all jumbled in his brain causing the eldest Delmont to visibly fluster.

"God I've been thinking about this moment for years but now that you're actually here I'm blanking." He let out an embarrassed laugh, rubbing his hand over his face as he stumbled over his words.

"Okay I'll say it since these bozos forgot how to talk or somethin'," Gabe rolled up his sleeves and leaned over on the table all business-like.

"You are ours now-" he gestured to the rest of the men in the room, "Sorry, I say 'now' like you haven't always been, but officially, you're ours." He gave a self-satisfied grin, leaning back into his chair. "Yours? what?" He cooed at your frustration, reaching across the table to take your hand in his much larger one.

"Ours to protect," he kissed your pointer finger, "To love," another kiss, now on your palm. "To fuck." His searing stare was only broken when he took the tip of your finger between his lips, gently sucking as he pulled away.

You felt like liquid putty as if he was the only thing grounding you at the moment.

Marcos rolled his eyes at his brute of a brother, jealousy came off him in waves as he sat on the table, taking your other hand he began laying on a few of his own possessive kisses, between each one he spoke "What that meathead is trying to say is we want to take care of you," another kiss, "-all of you." Another. "In every way." He added as if it cleared up any of your steadily building confusion.

Between the tingling in your lower abdomen to the confusion-headache beginning to pulse, you felt breathless.

"Sorry- just let me get this right. You took me out to some fancy cabin in the woods to take care of me?" Your face scrunched in confusion, and gently, you took back both your hands in an attempt to calm down, fanning your face you shakily laughed,

"Why? I'm okay guys really-"

"No, you're not!" Manny interrupted with a teary-eyed huff. "You feel lonely. I know you do, you told me so! You said you were gonna go out with that loser cuz you felt unwanted! That doesn't sound okay to me." The jealousy practically seeped from his words, his bright orange eyes held this darkness you'd only seen in him once or twice, and while he'd always been rather protective of you, this level of hate for someone else at your expense was new.

He had worked himself up and out of instinct, your hand found his own, immediately it calmed his tantrum down, resulting in him just sniffling instead of screaming which he very much wanted to do.

Brushing your thumb against the back of his hand in what you hoped were comforting circles, you hushed his tears, wiping them away with a practiced tenderness.

"It's okay Manny- don't get upset, not for me. I'm just trying to understand all this, can you help me understand?" He nuzzled into your palm like a pup, sighing deeply, he leaned over to rest his forehead against your own.

"I love you- we all do."

"God- I love you guys too, you're my family-"

"No! No! No! Not like that!- we love you." Manny had leaped from his seat, falling to his knees like a worshiper at their God's alter. "I love you like... I love you like the moon loves the sun. I crave you," he kissed his way from your feet to your calves, his hands rubbing patterns into the flesh, "I need you more than I need air in my lungs!" he whined looking up from between your knees.

"I adore you darling- we all do, can't you see?" Bending down, you wipe at his tears once more, and he melts into your touch, muttering this next bit into your skin, "My heart beats for you."

Heat as you'd never felt before rushed through your veins at his bold confession. Your heart raced, blood pounding in your ears as you looped his words in your brain.

A thousand emotions whirled inside you as you stared at them all, there was a small part of you that thought this was all some dream your lonely mind concocted after a night of getting hammered. But then you felt Manny's tears begin to soak into the fabric of your sweats, and the reality of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks.

Your mouth gaped as you struggled to find the right words. "You're in love with me? Like all of you?" Manny had resigned himself to leaning in your lap, head buried in your thighs as you combed through his curls with one hand.

"I don't know what to say." You spoke honestly, staring at each of them, you expected sadness from your lack of response but only found warmth in their gazes.

"And you don't need to, I'm glad you're even hearing us out," Caspian spoke, taking a hesitant seat beside you as if he was afraid to scare you off. "Of course, I'm hearing you out you guys are everything to me, sure you went about telling me in the absolute wildest way possible but I don't know what I'd do without you- all of you."

"And you never have to. I meant what I said, you're ours now, we got all the time in the world for you to catch up." Gabe said, his eyes flickered over his youngest brother, still in your lap, and instead of animosity, he stared with a knowing grin. "Okay little man, you worked yourself up, c'mon let's take a walk."

A muffled shout of 'No!' could be heard from Manny, his grip on your waist had become like iron, but Gabe persisted. He scooped the skinner male up by his arms, much like a cat grabbing their kitten by the scruff of its neck, and dragged the pouting male outside with a well-timed wink. "See you in a bit Ma." And with that, they left.

You offered to help Cas clear the dishes, if only for a sense of normalcy but he quickly ushered you away, sending you off to rest with a quick peck to your cheek.

In an attempt not to overwhelm you, each Delmont was off to their own devices, Gabe and Manny still hadn't returned from their walk, Marcos was hotboxing the basement and Caspian was humming his way around the kitchen, which left you to wander the large estate you'd found yourself in.

Retracing your steps led you back into the room you'd woken up in, the large space was open and seemed almost tailored to your tastes. You took the time to search the drawers and see your clothes, the bathroom connected to the room was fully stocked with your favorite brands, and much to your growing confusion, even had stuff from your wishlist.

You looked for your phone in all the typical places it usually was, purse, nightstand, etc. But came up empty-handed. You had a sneaking feeling this was intentional as everything else you could have needed for this impromptu vacation was accounted for.

Feeling the burn of more questions you sought out the man who swore to answer them.

He wasn't too hard to find, and the sound of soft music coming from a record player led you straight to him, the room he was in looked like an upgraded version of his office, he was writing in a leather-bound journal so intensely he didn't notice you walk up. He always looked so pretty when he was working, chin jutted out just the slightest as his eyes flickered back and forth, you always told him how he looked like he belonged in a modern art museum.

"Hey, Ricky?" His head snapped towards you with breakneck speed. "What's up?" He seemed eager as he snapped the book shut and shoved it in a drawer, his small smile was enough to relax you, quickly turning to give you his undivided attention, he waved you in.

"You know where my phone is? I couldn't find it with all my stuff." He smiled at you, taking his glasses off with finesse as if he was prepared for this question. "The boys must have forgotten it." He said matter of factly.

"Well can I use yours?"

"It's dead."

You scoffed feeling your irritation spike at his dismissive attitude, you turned to leave before he spoke out again. "What are you so eager to do on the phone exactly?"

"Oh my god- nothing, I get you guys are trying to- well do whatever this is, but you can't just keep me from my life Rick- I don't need to be coddled." He leaned back into his seat, brows furrowed at your tense form.

"And what exactly are we keeping you from? An empty apartment? A job you despise that sucks the joy outta ya?" He sighed through his nose, tucking a runaway strand behind his ear, "You don't need to worry about any of that shit anymore okay? Have you looked around the house yet?" He asked changing the subject smoothly, you shook your head no, anger fading as quickly as it had come, and watched as he rose, pausing to crack his back.

"Well c'mon, there's lots to see and you oughta be familiar with your own home."

The two of you walked side by side as he took you along the tour, so far not including the rooms you'd already been in, you'd seen a reading room, but what made you pause was the living room itself. It had a flat screen that took up a whole wall, a working currently lit fireplace, a few hanging plants and well-placed candles, and dead center was what you considered the crowing jewel, a mauve and orange themed conversation pit, one you'd always dreamed of having. You couldn't fight your excitement as you rushed past him to flop on the soft cushion.

"I think I've died and gone to heaven." You mumbled into the fabric, Ricky stared on in amusement, more than pleased you seemed to be enjoying the home he'd painstakingly brought together for you. Every inch of the house was managed with you in mind, he'd kept amazing notes on your likes and preferences throughout the years, but seeing your genuine excitement had to be his favorite part.

"I promise we can come back here but there are literally three floors to this mother fucker." He smiled down at you, holding a slender hand out, he felt his heart swell as you took it, but instead of rising to his level, you yanked him down to your own, pulling him over, he bounced on the couch with shock written on his features.

"No way my guy- tour is officially paused until we test this here T.V. out okay?" His face flushed as you curled up beside him, "Yes ma'am." He laughed a bit to himself, loving how easily you were entertained. He pulled the remote out from a cleverly disguised compartment on the couch and watched your eyes light up even brighter.

"Holy shit secret couch pouch."

"Focus woman, I paid good money for this T.V. and you're more interested in the furniture." He turned on a random movie and let himself relax at the moment. Drinking in the sight of you so at ease, his heart about exploded from his chest when you snuggled into his side, his arm wrapped around you snuggly, hand rubbing patterns into your flesh.

You didn't feel like racking your brain with a million questions about why you were there or where their sudden confessions came from, instead, you chose to focus on what you did know, Ricky was comfortable, and despite everything, you still trusted the Delmont men, as they were all you knew.

Maybe subconsciously you knew this was wrong, that keeping you here was wrong, but it didn't feel wrong. It felt right. Like you were supposed to be here at this moment.

You ended up passing out in the tall man's arms, your small snores and completely relaxed face had Ricky's skin flushed cherry red, he couldn't wipe the grin from his lips if he tried, Gabe and a now calmed down Manny returned shortly after you fell asleep, the older of the two insisted on carrying you back to your room, only he stopped by his room to tuck you snuggly into bed, wrapped in his soft Egyptian cotton black sheets, he felt himself twitch in his pants at the sight of you so safe and sound.

He stood over you for a while, happy to stand there and drink you in all night, only to be interrupted by a text from his older brother.

"Okay so, how do we think it's going?" Caspian asked after summoning them all to the still slightly smokey basement, he held a tablet in one hand, the cameras placed around the house were mostly for his peace of mind, so he could be sure you were okay no matter where he was.

"She seemed chill at breakfast, I say a win is a win." Gabe shrugged, eager to leave this little meeting and cuddle up to you.

"Yeah I'm with Gabe on this one, she seems okay, do we have to keep up with the whole 'give her space' thing?" Marcos asked from his spot on the couch, he was lying on his back tossing a foam football up and down.

"I wanna sleep with her- s'not fair Ricky got to." Manny piped up from his seat on a beanbag, the pout could be heard in his voice.

"I was just in the right place at the right time, not like I planned it." Ricky defended himself, but the satisfied smile on his face made it hard to believe him. "And it could just be the shock, give it a few days before you lay into her, and I'm looking at you three." Gabe and the twins made a noise of disbelief.

The next morning you awoke not on the couch but pressed against the big chest of one Gabriel Delmont. The bluenette had one hand behind his head and the other securely wrapped around your middle, holding you against him, he rarely slept in a shirt so you were used to his statuesque features, but it felt different now, after his bold claim at the breakfast table, it all seemed rather intimate to be face first in his naked chest.

As if he sensed you were awake, he soon started shuffling close toward you.

"G'mornin Mi Amor." His morning voice was husky with sleep, it sent a warm tingle down your spine as he shifted, pulling you even closer. "Morning Gabe." He stared at you for a second before tilting your chin up with his free hand, his pillowy lips were on yours in an instant, warm and cozy, he hummed as he pulled away, his smile turning wicked at the obvious heat on your face.

"I uh- I fell asleep on the couch?" Was all your brain managed to say after the heated kiss, still processing the tingly way it made you feel.

He huffed a laugh, leaning over to place another kiss, this time on your neck, "Yeah I may have stolen you from Ricky but you can't really blame me." He mumbled into the flesh of your neck, the sensation made a ghost of a whimper leave your lips.

He froze against you before his lips turned to teeth, "Keep making those pretty noises for me n' We're never leaving the bed." He sounded breathless as he nipped and sucked his mark into your skin. Breathy little moans left your lips, "Shit- hold on a second-ngh."

Your hands buried themselves in him, one in his hair the other trying to find purchase on his toned back. His chest began to rise and fall, his heart pounding as he fell into the delicious sensations, your hand tugging at his locks, the other digging into his skin so hard he felt the crescent-shaped indents you were leaving, the mental image of your own mark on him had him rolling his hips into yours, his boxers suddenly all too tight, he rolled himself to lay comfortably between your thighs, suddenly, he lifted himself just enough to stare in your eyes. "You want my tongue or my fingers first Ma'?" The sinful smile he sported was enough to short-circuit your brain.

But before you could stumble out an answer, a few sharp knocks came from the door, so hard they shook the wood.

"Put your dick away Gabriel, food's ready." Marco's voice carried through the barrier instantly popping whatever heated bubble you two had been in. Gabe growled something obscene under his breath, his angry stare melted back into a teasing one as he met your gaze once more.

"To be continued Baby girl."

Your second breakfast at your new home was a lot like the first one, only this time before you could sit Manny pulled you into his lap, his surprisingly strong arms locked around your waist, fingers dancing along any skin he could find. "Missed you." He mumbled into the back of your neck, goosebumps exploded across your skin at the timber in his voice. "But you just seen me?" You couldn't fight the giggles that escaped you as he started trailing little kisses along the column of your throat, nosing just below your ear as he knew you were ticklish. "So what? I didn't wake up and see you so it's been too long." He reasoned, basking in the perfect way you fit in his arms, how soft and warm you were.

"Oi, let her eat." Ricky pointed his fork at the youngest, his tone full of accusation. "Hmm that's fair, my baby does need to eat, hey Cas, little help?" Manny asked hiding his wolfish grin by kissing your nape. He knew what he was doing.

"Well of course." The eldest Delmont was quick to bring a fork full of food to your lips, the heat in your stomach only worsened as he stared down at you so lovingly. Being hand-fed was embarrassing, but with each passing moment the electric feeling of Manny's wandering hands paired with the downright lustful way Caspian was staring at you, and each of the little proud noises he made whenever you took a bite, quickly wiped away any embarrassment.

You managed to usher Caspian to his seat so he himself could eat, Manny seemed much too preoccupied caressing your body to feed himself, so you cleared your throat, it was almost comical how each of their heads snapped towards you, like a pack of puppies waiting for their next command.

"So- uhm, what's on the agenda today?" It was hard to keep your voice steady, Manny's fingers danced up and down your sides in an addicting manner.

"I've gotta head into town with Manny and Gabe, pop needs us for a few hours but when we come back I'll make it up to you okay love?" Ricky spoke first seemingly genuinely upset at the prospect of leaving you, the other two mentioned visibly deflated at the news, and the younger twin tightened his hold on you.

Once those three departed Marcos loudly announced he was taking a bath and how lonely it be, oh if only someone would help him, only leaving when Caspian launched his slipper at the devious Twin.

Which left you with the gentle giant of the house.

You helped Cas clear the table no matter how adorable the pout on his face was. It felt so normal, drying the dishes as he washed, a soft song playing in the background.

"How are you doing? I mean really doing." He spoke so gently, so earnestly, the truth couldn't help but come out of you. "I feel like I'm dreaming. Like I'm gonna wake up any second and all of this will have been some strange concoction by my lonely brain." You laughed as you spoke, but it was true.

It was as if you were waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Why do you say that Honey?" He seemed so concerned, enough to set the plate he had in the sink, dry his hands, and turn and face you fully. "Well- I mean it is all very dreamy, plus you guys all- I mean what you said at breakfast yesterday, that you all um-" For some reason, the words refused to leave like you were embarrassed to say them Incase you were wrong.

"Love you?" He asked, gently taking each of your hands, "Yeah- I mean I'm flattered, fuck any one of you being into me is like a dream but all of you? I'm just kinda, scared I guess? That this is another one of those jokes where I'm the only one not in on it." His frown was so out of place on his face, how disturbed he seemed. Before you could backpedal he was lowering himself down just enough to scoop you up and sit you on the kitchen counter.

"I'm so sorry baby, my poor girl." He sighed, thumb brushing against your cheek. "Your brain is being mean to you, that's just not gonna work for me." He rolled up the sleeves of his sweater and undid his apron with a finesse that had your thighs clenching together. "We shoulda' told you how we felt years ago. Then it be unquestionable. I guess I just gotta convince you some other way right?" He had this look in his eye, the bass in his voice made your next words come out shakey.

"What did you have in mind?"

457 notes · View notes

akingdomscrypt · 1 year

Text

Make a Mercy Out of Me

Part Three

Pairing; König x m!reader

Word Count; ~7.66k

Warnings; kinda sorta graphic depiction of stitching up wounds near the end. So if you don't like needles.. be careful.

A/n; König is a sergeant bc I said so and it fits my narrative. There's also plans in work for why he's a part of 141 & background knowledge on him. Lore. Eventually.

(we need more clips of this man istg-)

--- "babysitting duty" ---

You were a frustrating man to work with. You had hardly said much of anything during that sad excuse of an interrogation, at least nothing of much use. All they knew now was that there was someone out there who held your leash. Or, well, used to. You were a wildcard now, without someone to keep you on lock and key, and there was no way in the deepest pits of hell they could set you loose on the world with what they knew–which wasn't much. Not unless you were hanging off their every word or buried six feet under an unmarked grave.

"You talk about him like he's some sort of lab experiment."

"Mm." Well… "maybe he is. Who knows."

"He isn't some feral dog, König."

He didn't like it. As much as your words had ignited a–often ignored–spark in him, there was something itching at the back of his mind telling him you weren't trustworthy. That you'd stab him and the rest of the task force in the back the moment you were left to your own devices.

"We should keep him."

"He's a person."

"Not a good one."

"Neither are we."

They had to keep you, if at least for society's sake, on that straining lead. As any slack would surely be the catalyst of his very own demise.

I could make the world bleed.

The words were stuck on replay in König's mind, as well as the man who had spoken them. It was a horrible thought to have–but he couldn't help but find it.. intriguing. The idea made his heart skip a beat and the corner of his scarred mouth curl.

"He said he'd make the world bleed, König. That's fuckin' creepy as shite!" Ghost spat, arms crossed over his chest, as the two made the journey back to the rest of the team.

"You have said much stranger things, Ghost."

"You can't really be considerin' this." A few beats of silence from the larger man was all the confirmation Ghost needed. "Price would never agree to it."

"He said he could help."

"Help." Ghost huffed. "Right. Help with what exactly? He has no idea what we've been working on."

"Ja, he doesn't know. But what about that bomber? Could it be relevant?" Besides Mouse, the team had been tracking a much more persistent threat. Something that left behind more than just breadcrumbs in the form of mutilated bodies.

"...are you sayin' he could be involved in this?"

"He has been showing up right after every hit."

"Right." Ghost pauses in his tracks, turning his head slightly to look up at the other man. "So you think he's with them? Or.. maybe one of their targets?"

König comes to a stop too and takes a moment to mull it over. Could you have been a part of the group they'd been hunting these past few months? It was a little.. suspicious that you'd show up and take out another high-profile figure right after every strike made. Were you cleaning up their mess? Or your own?

"That's all the more reason to keep him, no? To find out? We know he has someone he reports to." There was also the fact that the explosion had gone off practically right under your own two feet. That had to mean something.

Just following orders?

"It's a little concerning when I of all people have to remind you that he is a very real, living, breathing, capable-of complex-thought person." König brushes off Ghost's concerns with a noncommittal shrug.

If they took the route of you having been just another victim of the explosion, that left many unexplained variables. Such as why you were a target–wouldn't one terrorist organization blend well with another? Why would they be at odds? It also leaves the question that, if you had really been abandoned by your crew, why had "she"–the woman who you'd mentioned–left you for dead? Was it legitimate? Or a ploy of some kind?

Then there was the more believable scenario that would tell it as; you hadn't really been betrayed by your group, or whoever held your metaphorical leash. And the explosion was some kind of distraction, a way to get their attention. Maybe–if one applies the theory that you were in cahoots with the people they'd been hunting–you had wanted to get caught. Or, maybe not you specifically, but whoever "she" was. Maybe you were sent as bait and they'd fallen right into that mouse trap–heh.

Maybe you didn't even know this was all a farce. That would make it all the more believable, no?

Either way, they need you here. For information. And if they played their cards right, if they burrowed their way under your skin and into your heart–like a damn parasite–you would give them exactly what they wanted. Lead them right to both the core of your organization and the group behind the bombing. And if the people or persons behind the bombing were by some miracle connected to who they had been tracking…

"He can help." His words help a certain air of finality to them, a small grin making an appearance under his hood.

Another sigh, but not a no.

Price wasn't as thrilled by König's proposal as Ghost begrudgingly was.

"You want to what." König wasn't a fearful man–unless he was ordering from a drive-thru, that shit was terrifying–but when the Captain looked at him like that. Let's just say he was forever grateful for the cloth that obscured almost the entirety of his face.

"Keep him." And if his voice comes out a little smaller than normal… no one mentions it.

To his right, König hears Ghost let out another heavy sigh. For a man who used to take a blowtorch to a hostage's skin and quite literally wears a skull stitched onto his face every day- if you'd asked König, he'd tell you the Lieutenant had grown soft. Or, well, soft-ish. He would still slit a man's throat without question.

"Why'd you wanna do that?" Gaz pipes up, giving König a blank, indecipherable expression. Coupled with his tone, König couldn't tell which side of the fence he was leaning towards. He knew Gaz, out of all of them, was the one with a more strict moral compass–something König both admired and thought of as foolish–but he also already didn't like their current hostage. So, discerning whether the other man would be for or against his proposition was a complex feat. König would have to walk that fine line, choose his words carefully, to sway Gaz's opinion in his favor.

"We could use his help." Is what König finally lands on. Not leaning too far into what Ghost had described as treating you like a tool, but not dipping into friendly territory either. An even middle ground.

"From what Ghost and I managed to gather," well, König had gathered. Ghost more or less just stood in the background as a silent spectator. "He claims he's been abandoned by someone he'd only refer to as "she". That this woman brought him here from wherever he came from to follow some lead- but that lead seems to have been a dead end."

"A dead end?" If Gaz's thing was compassion and strict morals, Soap's was intrigue. Puzzles and demolitions, that's all it took to draw in their resident impulse-driven pyromaniac.

"A dead end," König repeats, now switching his attention to the Scotsman. "Turns out there was no target, not really. Or, at least, that is what it appears like at first glance."

Soap's eyes light up when König moves to reach into his pocket, fishing for the blank note. Bingo.

"At first, when we pulled this off him, we had assumed it to be blank," he unfolds the crinkled-up paper, mud, water stains and all. König reaches his hand out to pass the note to Price, keeping the others on the edge of their seats. "But if you take another look.."

Price inspects it with a deep frown, then passes it to Gaz, who looks at it with a skeptical raise of his brow, next is Soap then Ghost, and finally back around to König. Upon closer inspection, past all the grime and stains, there was a faint red scribble.

"It is like there was something here," he mutters, smoothing a gloved thumb over the worn parchment as if that will somehow make the faded words clearer.

"But someone must've purposefully scrubbed it away." Ghost adds, seeming much more interested than he had earlier.

Any other person would probably have brushed the now-pinkish, washed-out markings as blood. And König almost had; after all, you were practically swimming in your own blood right now. Clothes stained with it far past recognition.

Even so, he knew that wasn't it.

The paper had a slew of things it was coated in–some recognizable, some not–, but blood was, surprisingly, not one of them.

"Dae ya think 'e knows?" Two.

"Maybe he was the one who erased it?" Three.

"We won't know unless we ask him. But,"

They all look over to Price, waiting for the man's next words with bated breaths.

"We can't jus' do it outright." Price's steely gaze lands on König and he subconsciously stands a little taller.

"König's got the right idea. We can't jus' kill 'im. Not yet." Four. "Not until we know everything he does."

"Aye, Captain." Soap grins, pushing up from where he'd been resting against a wall. He tilts his head in the direction Ghost and König had come from. "Let's go wear 'im down then, yeah?"

"Preferably before he bleeds out." Ghost reluctantly grumbles. "Bastard already looks to be halfway through death's door."

Price looks to König, cocking his head slightly to the right.

"You said he believes he was abandoned, right?"

"That is correct, sir." The corner of Price's mouth ticks up.

"So no one's coming for 'im then?"

A sick twist of anticipation began to swell in König's chest, and suddenly he was a lot more confident than he was a few seconds ago.

"Precisely."

The last thing you were expecting after those two giants left was for them to return with the whole damn crew. You'd be lying if you said the leader didn't make every inch of your being tense up. There was just something in his eyes; that cool blue, warmer than König's but still so cold, gave off a deceiving "I'm not a threat" while simultaneously saying "flinch and I'll kill you".

The dark-skinned man and the baby-faced one stood a little ways behind you, and closer to the door. The leader took a seat in the chair König had been sitting in–assuming the same position the Austrian had. Skull-face stood in the same place and König took his place on your right-hand side. Standing just far enough behind you to barely graze your peripheral but close enough where you could feel his presence looming near you. Invading your personal little space bubble with his, so close if he leaned any closer he'd be brushing up right against you.

The leader tried his hand at interrogating you again. It went a little something like this;

"Do you know why she left you?'

"Probably had something to do with my bad attitude."

He gives you an unimpressed look. You simply raise your eyebrows in question. You had broken your vow of silence, but that didn't mean you were going to make it easy on them.

"König said you could help us. Mind tellin' me what exactly you could do to help?"

"I have connections. People who owe me a favor or two." Or five. Hey, in your defense, you had been in the game for a while.

"Are these connections… legal?"

"I highly doubt you care about legalities if you are conversing with me still," Then, just to be a little shit, you add a snide, "sir."

You swear you hear a small huff behind you and you brush it off as a figment of your imagination. After all, you had lost a ton of blood.. It was a miracle you hadn't passed out again from blood loss. At this rate, you should probably be dead. Or, at the very least, comatose or something. Not back-talking the man who was very literally your golden ticket to freedom.

You blamed it on the blood loss. Made you say stupid shit.

"What else can you offer us?" In other words; why should we keep you?

"One less Brit in your ranks?"

"..what?"

"You all could really use some diversity."

There's a pregnant pause before,

"Is making jokes all you're good for?" Skull-face speaks up from behind the leader.

"What can I say? It is part of my charm."

The bearded man in front of you lets out a heavy sigh. Something about that sigh told you this type of thing wasn't new to him. A small part of you perked up with curiosity. You then proceed to beat that part of you back down into a bloody pulp.

"Are you goin' to take this seriously or not, Mouse?" The leader captures your attention again and you shrug. You really should take this more seriously… but the lack of vital, life-supporting fluid in your system was making you loopy.

And stupid.

"König?"

Very stupid.

A small grunt from behind you.

"Hast du darüber nachgedacht, was ich gesagt habe?" (Have you thought about what I said?)

The man in front of you frowns, looking from you to König, to you again. But he doesn't stop you. Someone probably should.

There's a terse silence before König replies.

"Deshalb sind sie hier." (That's why they're here.)

Despite your slightly dazed state, you smile a little to yourself.

"Did you tell him?" Now the leader looks even more confused, if not a little more frustrated. Good.

"Tell me what?" His glare is now trained on König, and you know you've gotten the giant into deep shit now. Even better.

"Nein."

And just like that you, very foolishly, let out a small puff of what was obviously an attempt at laughter. Though a poor one.

At this is rate, you'd sooner get yourself killed than cut loose, but your mouth seemed to have a mind of its own. It also seemed to be keen on digging you into deeper shit.

"It is a good deal.." you trail off, narrowing your eyes a little at the leader. It would be great if you knew their names. But no one seemed interested in filling you in on that, so you continue, "you all could really use the help. After all, the only reason you lot even caught me was 'cause I was having a bit of a bad day."

"A bit of a bad day?" Leader asks.

"Aye," you drawl. Your heart thudded a few times in your chest, slowed, then picked back up again. Really, you should be dead, slumped over in your chair, by now. "Got blown up. Stabbed a few times.. broke a few bones.."

You give a sloppy grin beneath your mask. Yeah, definitely shouldn't be awake right now. "Bit of a bad day."

"He's useless like this, Cap'." One of the men from somewhere by the roll-up door pipes up.

"Agreed." Skull-face huffs. "Poor guy's all hopped up on adrenaline. He's not much use to us now."

The leader–Captain?–scrutinizes you for a few more moments before exhaling heavily.

"Alright." He grumbles, standing up from the chair.

"König," the Brit calls on the man beside you but keeps his stare trained on you, as if daring you to utter another smart-assed quip. "You were so damn adamant about keeping 'im, yeah?"

It's obviously a rhetorical question and the atmosphere shifts, the tension in the air palpable.

The leader, or, you guess, Captain–these men and their pretentious titles..–adjusts the beige-colored, boonie hat on top of his head and signals something to the two men by the door. You hear the telltale clanking of the metal being rolled up.

"You're on babysitting duty, Sergeant," he says in that displeased rumble–one you had become very familiar with during the first attempt at interrogation–as he makes his way for the door. "So get his arse back in the van, we're moving to someplace more permanent."

The other three men proceed to file out after their Captain, leaving you alone with the, now fuming, Austrian.

Annnnnnd…

"Maus." He grits out from behind you. You proceed to, very smartly, not respond.

Shit.

Instead, you stay stock still even as König leans over you and unsheathes a knife from someplace on his person. One heavy hand gripping your, thankfully, non-injured shoulder and the other reaching around to rest the blade beneath your chin. He urges your head up with the tip of it until your eyes–oh, yeah, he was definitely pissed–lock with his. In the short time you'd known him you had almost forgotten how downright intimidating only being able to see those pale, glowing blues staring through your very soul was.

"Sie werden es bereuen." (literal; you will regret it. Contextual; you're going to regret this.)

He, while maintaining eye contact, removes the knife and brings it down to hover just above your waist. Your own gaze can't help but flick between his and his weapon-welding hand. Self-preservation, you call it. König, after all, has that sharp metal alarmingly close to your dick.

You choose to ignore the thrill that causes your breath to hitch, an unfamiliar feeling stirring somewhere in the deepest pits of your hindbrain.

You watch as he–in a strange show of caution–places the gloved hand that had been on your shoulder beneath the coarse rope, thumb and fourth finger keeping the binding in place, and swiftly slices through the thickly twined fibers. He then makes quick work of doing the same to the rope wrapped around your thighs and ankles. The barest hints of warmth emitting from him easily seep through the thin, ruined cloth of your pants. But before you can think too much about how long it's been since you last felt the touch of another not-currently-dying human being, König pulls back.

When you look back up to search out his gaze you find he is no longer staring you down, his own focus entirely on freeing you from the bindings. The lack of pressure on your worn body is a relief and the next breath that leaves you is shakier than the last–you choose to believe it's just your body coming down from its adrenaline high.

The last of the rope that had been keeping your lower half bound to the chair falls away to the floor with a soft thump and König retreats completely to move onto your hands. Thank fuck for your own fabric-clad hands, you aren't sure how much more of this non-threatening touch you could take before you fucking imploded or something. All you can feel is the slight graze of his deft fingers against your concealed wrists, and even that is muted. Courtesy of the current lack of decent blood circulation to your bound extremities.

After that final piece of rope is removed, you're being yanked to your feet. Off-balanced and stumbling as blood rushes back to every limb, you nearly come crashing straight back down. König's firm hold on your forearm is the only thing that keeps you from taking an embarrassing nosedive into hard concrete.

Panting heavily behind the fabric of your mask, you groan as the world swims around you. König only spares you a few seconds to steady yourself and then he's making a sudden appearance in front of you and trading out his grip on your forearm to engulf your wrist–and subsequently almost your entire hand–in one large hand. He wastes no time in tugging you forward to follow in his footsteps.

You realize quickly that the time between the rest of the group leaving and König's undoing of your bindings hadn't really been more than a few moments–half a minute at most–, as the other members of König's team were just now turning a corner and leaving your field of vision.

How embarrassing, you think, it felt like a fucking eternity.

König easily uses his tight grasp on your wrist to lift you up just enough so you don't have to make the small hop off of the elevated ledge and out of the storage unit–thank fuck it wasn't your injured arm. You aren't sure whether to be annoyed at his blatant show of strength–seriously, the movement seemed entirely effortless on his part–or grateful you didn't have to make the jump. Your depth perception wasn't exactly the best right now and you probably would've just fallen right over. You doubted you would have even had the energy to catch yourself.

The walk out of this seemingly abandoned facility and back out into the scalding heat–huh, they must not have taken you very far–was surprisingly quick. Your barely lucid brain blocked out the majority of the dizzying twists and turns it took to find the exit. And soon enough you find yourself back in the loading space of that damn van.

This time you are mostly conscious, so you're granted the wonderful opportunity of bearing witness to the burning glares of the three other men seated on the opposite bench. König takes his place beside you and actively decides to not even glance in your direction. Instead silently communicates something to the other passive-aggressive passengers. Well, skull-face was definitely more on the aggressive side of the spectrum, but you were mostly certain he couldn't do anything. Or so you hoped.

The baby-faced one was looking at you with more curiosity than anything, a minor hint of defense hidden somewhere in those–why the hell does everyone here have the same eyes??–vivid blues. That barely concealed interest was more terrifying than skull-face's obvious death stare.

The Captain turned his attention to the Austrian beside you, nonverbally communicating his displeasure with a hard glare and deep frown. Ah, the dark-skinned man must've been the one driving the damn thing.

After a few more painstaking minutes of having a half-assed staring contest with the two men across from you, you give up and let your eyelids fall half-shut. Still nauseous with blood loss and possible infection, you pant lightly within the confines of your mask. Heat continues to build in the suffocating cloth and you let out another soft groan, unable to help yourself when you slump backward against the metal wall of the vehicle.

The ground moving beneath you does nothing to aid your current lightheadedness and you find yourself focusing most of your limited attention span on not vomiting in your mask. That would be a hellscape on its own to clean, and the humiliation would probably kill you off before the budding infection had the chance.

It doesn't take much time before you can no longer fight off the exhaustion weighing down the big ball of throbbing pain that is your entire body and your eyelids finally slip shut. Before you have the chance to force your eyes open again–this is definitely not an ideal place to fall asleep–a sudden heavy thwack against your mutilated shoulder does the job for you.

Your eyes snap back open, fully alert as you search out the culprit. You find König giving you a blank, deadpan stare and the venomous words sprouting on the tip of your tongue quickly fizzle out when you notice the van has stopped moving. In fact, you two are the only ones remaining inside. The other four are piling up just out of earshot, the backdoors wide open and showing off- well, nothing. It's dark and all you can make out are vague shapes in the background.

You huff and go to stand but König beats you to it. Still holding onto your wrist, he gives a sharp tug and you stagger out of your seat. You send him a seething glare but find that his attention is no longer on you.

König pulls you out the same way he had the storage unit; efficiently lifting you by your arm and out of the vehicle. You barely manage to keep your balance when your boots touch solid ground again and just that little bit of exertion has you sucking in ragged gulps of air.

When the Captain glances over to you two, König makes a show of lifting your arm into the air as if to say got it and the Captain gives a small nod in acknowledgment. You don't have the wherewithal to give a shit about being treated more like an object than a person, brushing it off and trading it out to take in your surroundings instead. Besides, it wasn't something you were exactly.. unfamiliar with.

Surrounding you is another compound. More well-kept than the storage facility you had previously been in, but still obviously worn. The stark white walls were practically glowing in contrast to the pitch-black, starless night sky. Besides some crumbling and scuff marks here and there–most likely from environmental weathering over time–the cinder block walls were almost pristine.

Your fuzzy, mush of a brain briefly considers asking König where the hell they had brought you, but your tongue is like lead in your mouth. Not that it really mattered, you highly doubt he would've told you anyway. You were a prisoner, after all. A prisoner who they were only keeping alive on the off-chance you could help.

Help with what exactly? You had not a clue. Hopefully, they'd soon get their shit together and tell you sooner rather than later. Then again.. what would they do with you once your use to them came to an end? Would they just end up killing you anyway?

Floodlights abruptly make an unwelcome appearance, bathing the courtyard in a blindingly white light and knocking that train of thought right out of your head. You cringe away from the sudden brightness, squeezing your eyes shut momentarily before blinking a few times in rapid succession to adjust.

You only have the time to register the sheer size of the compound before you are being tugged forward again and into the said building. As usual, you silently curse König's unfairly long legs and subsequent far longer strides as you try your damnedest to keep up. The nausea, burning full body ache, and pounding against your skull have yet to lessen. If anything it's become more of an issue now that you're not running on pure adrenaline.

You find yourself fumbling over your own miscalculated steps more often than you make a successful one, König having to more or less drag the majority of your dead weight along with him. The behemoth of a man doesn't even have the decency to make it look like doing so is any struggle. Bastard.

The interior lighting of the compound is somehow far much worse than the blaring exterior. You squint against the harsh brightness and it takes a few seconds for your pulpy mess of a brain to make out the shapes and colors in front of you. Or, well, the astonishing lack of colors. Dull shades of grey coupled with a blinding light. Perfect.

Someone's talking. Multiple someone's, really. But your ears are too stuffed full of cotton to make any sense of what's being said. The most you can do is try to read their lips–which proves to be futile–and try to gauge the emotional state of the men in the room.

The plainly, uniform-dressed men standing guard seem to not at all have a problem with the crew that had brought you in. Though obviously holding a subordinate position in comparison to the team, they shared easy smiles and small laughs with the group. The Captain appears to be keeping up a polite kind of façade–was this not his base?–as he converses with the two newbies. Skull-face, mohawk guy, and the Captain's obvious favorite all stand behind the Captain in an organized order. With skull-face standing the closest–was he some kind of right-hand man?–babyface and the third man stood at a respectful distance. Not too close, but just near enough to assist if needed.

König kept you a little more ways away from the others, a firmer grip on your wrist than before. It would probably hurt if the remainder of your body wasn't currently one giant sore spot. You realize why when one of the guards spares a glance at you and, spotting your eyes on him, immediately shrinks back and averts his gaze.

Ah, this definitely wasn't their base. Made sense. They all were clearly European and unfamiliar with the normalities of wherever the fuck you all were right now. Faintly, you remember the dark-skinned man complaining about how weird it was driving on the right-hand side of the road.

You're snapped out of your own musings by a harsh pull on your arm. A small noise of surprise escapes you and, before you know it, the guards are moving out of the way and you are being escorted further into the building.

Going off the darkness you had awakened to, it is obviously late at night, maybe even well into the morning by now, and the only people you all pass are all exhausted-looking security personnel.

König follows behind the other four down corridor after corridor, dragging you along behind him. Eventually, you all make it out into what appears like a sort of gathering place or common room. For a split second you think they're going to stop there, but, no, they keep going. Down more confusing hallways and through nonsense doors.

Then finally, finally, it all comes to a stop at an unremarkable metal door. Nothing on it, not even a little window, with the exception of the room number plastered next to it.

You squint at the numbers, trying to make sense of the blurry shapes. There's a small tugging in the back of your mind and, if you were any more aware, you'd almost say it was familiar. Huh.

The Captain unlocks and pushes open the door, then, before you even have the opportunity to protest, König yanks you close and shoves you forward. You stumble–again, seriously, did they think you were made of fucking steel??–through the doorway and only barely manage to break your fall on the closet wall. You stand there for a moment, panting and bracing against hard concrete, while the others file in.

If it wasn't for the unnecessarily heavy thunk you probably wouldn't have realized that the door had been shut. Your vision blurs then blacks out for a split second while you catch your breath, and the only thing on your mind is; how the hell am I not dead yet?

You're only given a few more moments of rest then you're being pulled by the wrist again. Unable to even really feel your legs anymore, the sudden brushing of something solid against the backs of your knees is all you have to tell you you've even moved. You don't have to be told twice to sit, hell, you probably wouldn't have been able to hear them if they had given the order.

You drop your weight instantly, unable to hold yourself up any longer. You can't feel much through the fabric separating your fingertips from what's below, but from the slight give when you press down, if you had to guess, you'd say you were seated on a cot of some kind. It's not the most comfortable, but it's the best thing you've had in a long, long while.

Lifting your gaze at the sound of someone's voice, you blink rapidly in a vain attempt at refocusing your vision.

"Hm?"

All four men standing in the room give you vaguely concerned grimaces. Well, you assume König and skull-face do, judging by the crinkling of their limited expression.

"I said-" the Captain begins. Not that you hear any of what comes after that. Head full of cotton and feeling simultaneously like you're both floating and being weighed down by a ship's anchor, you're left futilely trying to read his lips. But that only makes the pounding in your head worsen and you screw your eyes shut again.

Cradling your head in your hands you lean down, elbows propped up on your knees. You suck in shallow, shaky breaths, fruitlessly trying to get the proper amount of oxygen to the lump of mass that is your brain.

When your eyes flutter open again the lights have been dimmed just enough to take the edge off, reducing the strain on your eyes, and you immediately slump in relief. You think you mutter your gratitude under your breath, but, really, you're far too out of it to be certain.

A few more muffled words and the soft thumping of footsteps later and the door opens then shuts one last time. You look up expecting to see nothing but an empty room, a little caught off guard when that behemoth of a man is still looming near the door.

"We should really get you checked out," König says, giving a brief once-over at your disheveled appearance. Giving a noncommittal hum, you take a look down at yourself.

You had not bothered to take full stock of your person since the initial confrontation–and even that was a laughable inspection at best.

Every inch of your exposed skin–which, truthfully, wasn't much–was coated in a layer of mud and your own blood. Your thin civilian outfit was in a similar state of disrepair; caked in blood, more mud, and bits of stuck-on foliage as well. Accompanied with the occasional tear and hole here and there, of course.

"I'll get a medi-" Before he even gets the word out you're launching yourself up and off the bed. Charging at him despite how unsafe that currently is and reaching up to slam your grimy, gloved hand over where you assume his mouth is.

König quickly and easily peels your hand away by the wrist, staring down at you with less anger and more of a really, what are you doing? kind of look.

"Nie." (No.) You breathe as your only explanation. You had had enough of fucking medical staff in your time before your years-long solo operation began. Unknown injections, emotionless stares, and needles. Needles, needles, needles. So many fucking needles. You didn't visit those sterile, frigid laboratories often these days–though you were still required to come in every now and again for a routine 'checkup'.

"No?" König finally breaks through your suddenly hazy headspace–this time said fuzziness wasn't the result of excessive blood loss. You'd rather it were.

"Nie." You repeat again, and there must be something in your voice–something unlike yourself, something a bit too human–because König relents without further question and drops your arm.

"I can't really let you die on us, Maus." He points out with a deadpan stare. Then, probably realizing that phrasing sounded a bit too worried, he adds, "What use would you be to us then?"

"Let me do it."

"You can barely stand up straight and you expect me to hand you a needle?"

"I would rather me than you or some pea-brained white-coat." You huff, narrowing your still very unfocused gaze up at him. You hope it lands, you can't really see clearly right now.

König holds your stare for a few seconds longer before letting out a resigned sigh and looking away. "Fine."

He gives your uninjured shoulder a nudge with a gloved finger and rumbles a low, "Sit down."

You're about to bite back with some witty retort but the words get stuck in your throat when you realize just how close you two are. In your rush to cut off the words spewing from his mouth, you had somehow ended up crowding into his space in a very.. unprofessional way. Chest puffed up in a show of defiance and, subsequently, pressed right up against the other man.

That same, unfamiliar twinge in the furthest recesses of your mind from back in that god-awful storage unit begins to stir and you jolt away sharply. Jumping back and scurrying over to the cot at a faster rate than really necessary, as if that simple touch had burnt you. And, to be frank, it had. Indirectly.

König cocks his head, analyzing you for a brief moment, then shakes it off. Thank fuck. Having quickly averted your gaze, all you hear is some faint rustling and then his legs appear in your line of sight. A small first-aid box materializes from his hand and you lift your own trembling one to take it.

"Thanks." You mumble. You were a monster, not impolite.

König makes a light huff and retreats. Grateful for the, mostly likely unintended, room to breathe, you fumble with the kit before finally managing to wrench the damn thing open. Placing the box beside you on the bed you ungracefully free your first victim from its confines; your thigh.

Stab wound number one, thankfully, has stopped bleeding. On the other, far less favorable, hand, the injury is already a burning, angry red. A light poke at the inflamed skin with your finger has you hissing against the sharp sting.

Deciding keeping up appearances was much less important than your health, you make efficient work of removing both gloves. Also soaked with mud and blood, they would do no more than worsen what was already the beginnings of a very, very serious infection.

There's a bottle of saline solution in the kit and you uncap that first. Folding the bled-through, makeshift bandage in half, you use it to catch the liquid rather than letting the filthy solution drip onto the floor. After flushing out the wound as much as you can–without running the bottle dry, you've still got another to clean–the next step is the worst of them all. Stitches.

If you had it your way, you wouldn't use them at all. You had a tendency to forgo using a needle and thread whenever you could–only stooping to that level when it was absolutely vital. Like right now.

Even then, you only knew one form of sewing; intermittent sutures.

Tearing open a sterile needle packet you, surprisingly enough, make easy work of threading the surgical cotton through the eye of it. Pinching the slice shut with your non-dominant hand, you position the end of the curved metal about a centimeter from where the damn thing starts.

The first pierce of the needle into your tender flesh forces a strained whine from your throat, eyes beginning to water. You blink away the budding tears, exhale a shaky breath, and tie the thread off.

One suture down, an ungodly amount remaining.

Your hand only gets more unsteady as time goes on. Making each stitch more lopsided than the last.

Your vision swims for a brief moment and you swallow back the growing lump in your throat. Come on now, you can do this. You've done this so, so many times before. What was so different this time around?

Just a few more to go. That's all. Then you will be done.. well, then onto the puncture in your shoulder. The shoulder that also happened to be connected to your dominant hand. Great.

"Maus."

You can do this- just stab, push through- wait no, not like that. Pull it out again. Now, do it properly this time-

"Maus." Black gloves invade your sight and you grunt, trying to look around them.

The next time the needle pierces your skin it goes in just short of perfectly–success!–but it's good enough. Will keep your blood in, at least. Then comes tying it off and- come on, don't be difficult now.

Just toss over- like tha- wait, no. Just lift and- fuck.

A low rumble is all you hear and then those gloved fingers are wrapping around your wrist once more and effectively halting your progress. You huff, looking up to glare at him only to find his own hardened gaze staring down at you.

"-keep trying, you are only going to hurt yourself." Wait, had he been talking this whole time? "Then what use would you be then, hm? You would be of no help if you died because of your own damn stubbornness."

You feebly try to tug your hand back, but he doesn't budge, simply using his other hand to pluck the needle from your hand. Narrowing your eyes, you do the only thing you can do; throwing hundreds of imaginary knives at that stupid smug look in his eyes and internally cursing him out.

After your two's little staring contest goes on long enough for your captured hand to start going numb, you relent. Letting out a heavy sigh and dropping your gaze.

König makes a small noise of approval and releases your wrist. You don't watch as he finishes up the mess of stitches sewn into your thigh, nausea returning with a vengeance and forcing you to shut your eyes again.

He finishes up relatively quickly, faster than you probably could have in this state, and rinses the wound again before pasting a bandage over it.

"I need you to look up."

"Hm?" Light pressure under your chin causes your eyelids to flutter back open and you frown.

"Wha-?"

"Up." He reasserts, using his guiding touch to urge your head up and out of the way. Forcing you to straighten out your shrimp-like posture and provide König with access to your injured shoulder.

Said shoulder that was more bruises and blood than it was untouched flesh; able to get a decent look at it now that König had removed the sloppy work that was your mess of torn fabric and duct tape.

He repeats the same steps you had to clean the wound and this time you watch. Less so keeping an eye on the weeping wound and more so on the hand sticking the–new, he had discarded the one used on your thigh–thin metal through your skin. He's surprisingly delicate with it, despite his size he is far more precise with his sutures than you had been. Carefully inserting the needle and tying off every knot with practiced ease. Unlike you, he hadn't foregone his gloves, and that's why you notice it when you do. Having been so attuned to his busy hands.

His gloves are still stained with your blood.

Coated in a thick, dried layer of it. Dark against the already black fabric, flakes of crimson chipping off and drawing your eye.

It was the only part of him that showed any hint of wear from the morning's efforts. Every other inch of his uniform was speck-free, not a single item out of place, scuff mark, or splatter of blood.

It didn't make much sense for you to be fixated on such a minor facet after the laborious events of today. There were so many other things to draw your attention. Like the repeated motions of the curved metal puncturing your skin over and over again, for example. Or maybe his close proximity–accompanied by that weird feeling again.

But, no. Every last bit of your remaining attention span was focused solely on your own blood marking his hands. You sounded insane, even to yourself and that was an entire feat of its own.

You release a small breath of relief when he pulls away, slapping on another thick bandage over your second, freshly stitched injury. Then comes a sudden sting right above your eyebrow and you jolt away with a hiss.

Refocusing back into reality, König is still standing above you. Only this time he's welding an antiseptic-soaked cotton ball, also tarnished with your blood.

"Cut is deep." Is the vague explanation you get, coupled with a small gesture to your face. "No stitches will be needed. But,"

He reaches down to rifle through the first aid kit and makes a soft sound of victory when he finds whatever he's looking for. Holding your face still in one hand, he dabs at the cut a few more times before switching sides and drying it off. König throws the dirtied cotton along with wherever he'd discarded the scraps of your clothes and other miscellaneous trash.

Next comes another burning sting as he presses something over the wound. A few 'something's.

"A few pieces of tape should do the trick." He muses as he smoothes the sterile strips against your skin, the faint metallic scent of your own blood flooding your senses. Gross.

You really needed some sleep, or maybe it was finally time to check yourself into some kind of mental reform. Seriously, this was getting out of hand.

"Now," König pulls away for the final time, doing a brief scan of your exhausted form and nodding to himself. "Sleep."

You half expected König to leave it at that, to exit the room like the other four had. And probably lock the door behind him. Your hopes are crushed when he takes a seat a few feet away from your cot, settling into an uncomfortable-looking chair you hadn't noticed beforehand.

Oh, right. The Captain had assigned him as your personal babysitter. How fucking lovely.

Scooting back to slump against the wall furthest away from the other man, you send him a weak glare. Wanting nothing more than to argue that you can't sleep like this–not with him watching over you like some damn stalker–you find that when you try, you can't.

For what feels like the millionth time today, your eyelids droop until you cannot resist any longer. Falling completely shut and likely not going to open for a while, you give in. Unable to find it in yourself to give a damn right now.

Besides, you could.. moderately trust König wouldn't murder you in your slumber. He hasn't yet. And that seems to be enough for your sleep-deprived brain, as sweet unconsciousness soon drags you under.

___

One | Two | Masterpost | Next

___

(finally figured out how to tag y'all properly! Sorry bout that. Thought I was doing it right this whole time 😞)

@cptg00s3 @ruthgrimxiao @20nerd04-blog @gloma08 @mikahrh @in-down @hauntedapplefarm @mello-life69 @unkn0wnd3ad @tayaisback @starre-eyes @ravage-reposts @suhmie

If you want to be added to the tag list, let me know in the comments!

#call of duty #cod x male reader #male reader #call of duty x male reader #call of duty x reader #könig cod #könig x male reader #reader insert #gay #mlm

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elli3luvs · 2 years

Note

Can I please req hcs for Ellie w a Reader who needs a lot of reassurance like always asking “are you mad at me?” Because I am the most sensitive girl in the world I fear 🙁

a/n: so real im also so sensitive it's crazy idk how ive made it this long LMFAO

ellie is kinda rough around the edges there's no changing that

she tries, and i mean really tries, to be softer around you but during high stake times she can kinda snap

not really at you just more at the situation at hand

but being sensitive, you do not take it like that

it takes every fiber in your being to hold back the tears and keep the heavy feeling in your chest at bay

"you could've gotten killed! what would i have done without you, huh?" she rants as she walks out of a random abandoned building

you may have seen a clicker and tried to kill it without making a fuss

you didn't want to burden ellie as she was searching for supplies

but it didn't go down without a fight

thankfully ellie heard your screams from downstairs and ran to handle it

"i tried. i fought really hard," your voice is wobbling as the tears well up, "are you mad at me, els?"

you hear her sigh before she's turning back to look at you

her face softens at the pitiful look that's gracing your features

"no. i'm not mad," she reaches out and pulls you into her arms. you relax at the comforting feeling of her near you, "you scared the hell out of me though. don't know what i'd do without you."

shes rubbing her hands up and down your back in a soothing motion

the pit in your chest feels a bit lighter now that you know she's not angry

"i just wanted to feel like i could do it on my own." your voice is muffled by her shirt

you feel her shake her head, "you will never have to do it on your own, shouldn't have to. i'll always be here so lean on me."

ellie feels like crap every time she makes you sad

she works on it as much as she can

but she is also more than happy to give you the reassurance you need

nothing makes her happier than feeling you relax in her arms

#ellie williams imagine #ellie williams scenario #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie headcanons

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anonymousdisco · 20 days

Text

How’d I get Isikia’d into Yandere Obey Me Chapter Eight-Unexpected Opportunity Part One

(Y/N)’s POV:

I woke up groggy and half asleep as I snuggled closer to the warmth surrounding me. My eyes flew open as someone held me tighter. I stiffened in shock at the sight before me. What the fudge sticks was happening?!

“Go back to sleep. It’s still too early for you to be up.” Lucifer pushed my head closer to his chest as he held me against him where he was seated on my bed doing his work.

I blinked slowly in shock and pried my hands from his grasp to rub my eyes in shock. “Lucifer…?” There were no lies or faking it in my complete confusion. The shock I had was genuine as I tried to get out of his grip.

”Yes, it’s me. Now go back to sleep. Like I said it’s too early for you to be up. Little girls need their sleep.” Was his tone almost… gentle?! I haven’t even interacted with him yet! How is he like this already?!

”It’s fine. I’m not tired anymore.” I felt a little annoyed to be treated like a child since I had been an adult in my previous life instead of a teenager, but I hid my feelings of annoyance from my tone and expression. “Why… are you in my room?” I tilted my head and gave myself a shy like expression.

Lucifer looked at me quietly for a moment. His gaze for a second faltered from his usual prideful facade and behind it I saw an almost guilty expression. “You looked cold, and lonely when I checked on you last night after a… meeting I had with Lord Diavolo.”

”I see. I suppose that makes sense.” I said hesitantly. He wasn’t suppose to have a meeting yesterday. But it’s not like I can talk to glitch with him here even if I do it through thoughts. He’ll get suspicious of my behavior if I do. I must wait till I have a moment alone.

I felt an uneasy pit in my stomach. This wasn’t suppose to happen yet since I wasn’t ready for it, but I’ll have to work with it. Time to get an Oscar in acting. “Since I’m up you’re welcome to go back to your office.” I slouched my shoulders curling into myself a bit holding myself now with my arms. It gave me a fragile look kinda like a sad doll. I kept my eyes shut tight like I was avoiding seeing him leave.

When I felt his hand on my head stroking my hair I opened my eyes hesitantly. Peeking up at him through my eyelashes with a touch of vulnerability.

”I’m almost done with my work for the day. I’ll be back to collect you for some errands once I’m done signing these last documents.” He got up carefully to avoid jostling me from where I sat. “We’ll be having breakfast in my office before we leave. I’ll prepare it.” His voice left no room for complaint since his words came out as statements rather than questions.

I simply kept quiet and nodded carefully as I stared at him leaving my room. Once he was gone I closed the door and slumped down to the ground in front of it. “Glitch. What. The. Fudge. Was. That. About?!” I panicked a bit now that I was alone. A variable I had no control over was bad. One misstep could be my downfall.

Glitch flickered to life in front on me. “That was due to an action of Lord Diavolo that was… unexpected to say the least. He got home so fast afterwards I had no time to wake you to warn you. It worked out perfect. You have his attention now. But you still need more to get him permanently hooked.” Glitches screen had dimmed and was tinged purple at the edges kinda like glitch was embarrassed.

“It’s fine. It’s not your fault. Looks like I need to get Diavolo on a tighter leash. Or at least under my thumb without him noticing.” Glitches screen brightened at that.

”I agree user. That’s a great thought. But how?” Glitch hovered excitedly.

”I don’t know yet. I have to fix Lucifer’s pace of interest in my wellbeing first into something steadier and more permanent first before anything else. What is he planning?” I get up from the floor suppressing my unease.

”I think he wants to spend the day with you. It’s hard to get a read on him compared to others because of him having such a solid facade. At least with Barbatos I can somewhat guess his thoughts and next actions through assuming what Diavolo would want from him.” Glitch explained to me carefully.

”Darn it…” I huffed a bit in irritation which made glitch dim again. “Not you glitch just the situation.” Glitch brightened again before moving off to the side of my mirror on the wall.

”What’s today’s outfit?” Glitch asked me with a bit of excitement. Seems as though Glitch likes fashion.

”He never told me what he plans after breakfast so I’ll wear my RAD uniform like it’s a normal school day. And I’ll…” I trailed off thinking of something before smirking. “Glitch you can manipulate NPC actions other than the main cast right…?” I tilted my head smiling.

”Yes I can. But only so much. It had to align with the NPC’s usual actions at least a bit.” I nodded along.

”Okay then do something for me real quick.” I quickly explained to Glitch the general gist of what I needed as I dug through my closet for a pair of flats that could be ran in. I pulled out a pair of shoes that were a dark grey and looked a lot like Devildom equivalent of converse. They had little black bats embroidered along the edge. I nodded in satisfaction laying them on my bed. I also grabbed a pair of black tights instead of fishnets like yesterday. After putting my hair into two pick tails with a grey hair and and getting dressed I was done with my outfit. All that was left was limited makeup that only made my face look a bit younger like an early teen rather than an almost adult one. This would be great for later.

This new plan could truly work out better than my old one. Perhaps I should do something cute for Diavolo later as a thank you? “Showtime Glitch.”

Lucifer’s POV:

I heard a knock at my door and tried to smile a bit to seem more approachable before slightly yelling out, “Enter.” My eyes softened a bit as (Y/N) entered shyly. “Sit down.”

She nodded quickly gazing at the ground at her feet as she sat across from me. I pushed one of the plates in front of her before speaking again. “Eat.” She picked up a fork before taking a bite of the scrambled eggs I made which made me chuckle a bit when her eyes widened at the taste.

”It’s delicious, thank you Lucifer.” Her voice rang out quietly in my office.

”There’s more in the kitchen for everyone else so don’t worry and eat up as much as you want.” Clearly according to the papers I was shown she can’t be trusted to eat a proper amount without supervision. She’s too forgetful to take care of herself.

She smiled a bit timidly at me before she continued to eat. We sat together in a somewhat awkward environment as we finished eating together.

Once we were done I spoke up. “I’ll put these in the sink while you brush your teeth. Meet me at the front door. Also we’re not going to RAD today so there’s no need to wear your uniform today in case you wanted to change.” I gathered up our plates and walked them to the sink. Once I brushed my teeth as well I waited for her by the door. I glanced at my watch slightly irritated by the delay, but seconds later she arrived quietly in front of me.

She looked adorable in the dress she chose. Her dress went almost to her ankles and had little bats sewn on the hem. “Ready to go?” I held out my arm for her.

”Y-yes.” She almost whispered as she stuttered nervously grabbing onto my arm. I escorted her my car that was waiting in the front drive. I opened up the Porsche’s door for her on the passenger side and chuckled as she looked flabbergasted at the car.

“It’s okay to get inside the car. It can be replaced easily if something happens. If you don’t like this one I can get a different one in less than an hour.” I smirked as she shook her head no frantically.

”Oh no this one is no bother at all!” She panicked cutely as she got inside the car extra carefully. I simply shut her door and went around to the drivers side to get in.

”Don’t forget your seatbelt.” Once we were both buckled in I drove the car out the driveway.

We had about ten minutes before we would reach the HOL’s gate so I had plenty of time to catch up on her interests. “So what kind of theme do you like for your room?” I need to make sure to find out so I can improve hers. What she has now would simply not do. It was an insult to my pride as an older brother for my younger sibling to have such a small and shabby room.

”I like… whatever I can find.” She smiled at me. “It can be so interesting finding new uses for old things. The blanket I’m using now used to be some old curtains I found laying in the attic that I fixed up as a blanket instead. It was so fun to figure out! I needed a new blanket at the time since the one originally in the room no longer fit me anymore once I grew up. I even found the bed I have now up there too. Though it’s hard to find things to repurpose ever since Belphegor decided to use the room as his napping spot. Now all the old stuff has been thrown away so I can’t do much with it anymore.” Her shoulders slouched at the end her tone no longer as excited as it had been about sewing.

My hands clenched the wheel tightly. “Your happy to use such old things? That makes you happy?” My tone came out harsher than I meant which I immediately regretted as she shied away from me a bit. I would apologize but that would make me seem weak. Instead I changed the direction of the conversation a bit. “You’re picking out new stuff for your room today. It’ll all be delivered and set up by the workers tomorrow. Tonight you’ll sleep in my room while I work. Understood?”

”Yes, I understand.” Her voice came out quiet again like earlier which made me regret my earlier tone, but apologies are a sign of weakness and I don’t want her to think I’m weak and can’t protect her.

Part two is not finished yet. This one will likely have a lot of parts since it’s really important to the beginning of the story. Hopefully I will have the other parts completed soon.

Lucifer

~Affection: 37%

“She was starting to get excited and I stupidly ruined it with my tone. But how in Devildom can she be satisfied with such terrible quality in her room. It’s shameful to have one of my little siblings in such a room. It’s an insult to my pride as an older brother and makes it seem like I cannot provide for my younger siblings. It simply has to be changed.”

~Relation- Prideful Older Brother

~Danger Level- Yellow

#Yandere obey me #romantoc yandere #Platonic yandere #Yandere Lucifer #yandere mammon #yandere leviathan #yandere satan #yandere asmodeus #yandere Beelzebub #yandere belphegore #Yandere barbatos #yandere diavolo #yandere simeon #yandere solomon #yandere luke #yandere obey me x reader #female reader

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tadpolesonalgae · 10 months

Text

Amarantha x f!reader x Rhysand: Crimson Delights[*]

A/N: This is pretty short but it’s a rough continuation of The High Queen’s Courtesan :)

Warnings: threesome (fmf), oral (f!receiving), smut, Amarantha’s kinda mean but that’s to be expected

Word Count: 1,885

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“I’ve been thinking,” she muses from beside you on the bed.

Your attention slides to her immediately, turning to your right, settling on your side as you peer at her. Patiently waiting for her to continue.

“How many years have you been serving me for now, pet?” She asks, her silky, wine-red hair unbound on the dark pillowcase. You blink, thinking back to when you’d been roughly brought in. “Three, my Queen,” you answer. Really it feels like there has never existed a time without her, entirely wrapped up in your life of utter bliss and luxury.

“Only three,” she echoes, the edges of her lips quirking cruelly, sending heat fluttering between your thighs. “And in all that time, I don’t think I’ve ever let you and Rhysie play, have I?” You stiffen beside her, blinking as you watch her silently. Her blood-coloured nails come to rest around your throat, lightly scraping at the sensitive skin. “My Queen?” You manage out, pulse spiking beneath her fingertips.

Dark-painted lips stretch in a malevolent curve. “I think I’d like to see that,” she muses, eyes tracing over your parted mouth with cruel sadism. “But I don’t want to fuck him,” you say, “I want to serve you—”

“It doesn’t matter what you want, pet,” she growls in warning. “Disobey me again and I’ll make sure you don’t enjoy him.” Your Queen leans closer, dragging you so your lips almost touch as she stares down at you, dark desire swirling in the depths of her gaze. “He could turn it into real torture with a single breath of a command.”

You swallow thickly, heat steadily building between your thighs. “I didn’t mean to insult, my Queen,” you manage beneath her grip. “I only want the most pleasure for you.” White teeth gleam in the low light, a shiver licking up your spine as your hairs stand on end, relaxing into her brutal touch. “My pleasure is my business. All you need to think about is following my orders,” she says lowly, “don’t forget you’re expendable to me.” Your back arches at her cruel words, heat settling in the pit of your belly at the brutal nature of your High Queen. “Don’t be sad,” she croons, knowing you’d much rather have her to yourself than Rhys. “Maybe if you’re flawless, you can tempt me to join.”

Arousal liquefies in your lower abdomen, thighs squeezing together, never breaking her intense gaze. Grateful for every moment she decides to put on you over anything else.

She shifts, moving onto her back, releasing her piercing grip on your throat. “Now, not another word out of that mouth of yours. I want all your attention between my legs this morning,” she breathes, her own arousal permeating the air, intense enough for you to salivate at her appetising scent. As you shift beneath the covers, pushing them away to aid your movement, your hands settle atop her thighs, spreading them a little wider.

“Better eat up,” she croons, curving her legs at the knee. “It’s all you’re having for breakfast, lunch, and dinner after that little stunt.”

————

Your spine arches from the bed, baring your chest to the heavens as he slams in, large, firm hands gripping your hips with terrible power.

You can see why your Queen favours him.

A pained-sounding moan pants softly from your lips, features scrunching as your brows pull together, eyes squeezed shut while your nails practically shred the sheets. You can feel her eyes on you, having heat simmering beneath your skin. Arousal bubbling in the pit of your stomach, coiling tight and ready to spring free. How long has it been since you’ve received pleasure from someone else?

Amarantha doesn’t allow you to lie with other people; you’re hers. Which is why this change of heart is still so impossible to comprehend. Everything about you belongs to her, wholeheartedly. Down to the last drop of pleasure, it’s hers to control, hers to chose how to use. She’s never once given you and orgasm herself—she’s High Queen, and you her courtesan. You make no mistake in thinking that makes you anywhere near equals.

And yet—

“Harder.” The command quietly sliced through the room, and the Lord’s violet eyes glint with malevolent cruelty. Your lips fly open as he angles your hips, raising them from the bed, and hits harder. Shoving the air from your lungs as your hands scramble for purchase. You’d like to grab onto him, cling to his shoulders in an effort to keep you stable, but you doubt your Queen would approve, so you settle for having nails stab into your palms, teeth biting your lower lip.

You can’t last longer, with how the waves are already welling within you, preparing to crash down with brutal force, promising absolute pleasure. Breaths are rushed spasms of lungs, violent gasps each and every time he hits that spot, purposefully targeting it. Well-versed in female pleasure, and weaponising his knowledge against you.

Panting heavily, you crane your neck to the side, you and the Lord splayed out lengthways across the foot of her bed, while she watches leisurely from the top. Pleasant entertainment to get her worked up. Brows curve as your gaze locks with her own, pleading for her to allow you to touch her, to taste her, to feel her in some way. After so long of serving her with utter dedication, it feels wrong to be on the receiving end. Incomplete. Unsatisfactory in a way you need to be okay.

Dark-painted lips curve sinfully at their edges. “Stop.”

You pant heavily, torn between wishing for more and silently hoping she’ll relent.

Her sharp eyes gleam, then she’s beckoning you toward her. “Up here, pet,” she says lowly. It’s all the encouragement you need to force your body into compliance. His large hands release you, and you manage to shift onto your hands and knees, crawling lethargically up toward her, moving between her parted thighs. “My Queen?” You ask, desperate for her to give you an order to follow. Blood-red lips curve. “On the bed,” she orders lowly, arousal spinning your mind as her scent washes over you.

You follow swiftly, putting your back to the mattress, relief cooling your skin when she swings a leg over your head. Back on familiar ground. You’d do anything to please her, naturally, but taking pleasure while she remained unattended simply doesn’t sit right. You should be between her thighs, causing her pleasure, making her a mess and cleaning it up afterward. If you aren’t doing so, what’s the point?

“Open,” she commands, your lips parting automatically as she takes her seat, settling over your mouth like it’s her throne. Your nipples peak as arousal prickles your skin, so close to tasting her, already having her weight over top your parted lips, tongue prone to lick, and suck, and swirl. Anything and everything she wants.

“Rhysie,” she calls over her shoulder, turning to peer back at the male. “Return to her,” she says, and once again you stiffen. She should be receiving pleasure—you don’t even want it right now. Feel him at your entrance, his tip pressing to the soft, wet dip between your spread thighs, his large hands keeping you open for him. You aren’t the only one who seeks to please the High Queen.

Her nails rake over your scalp, fisting your hair as she pulls you against her heat, slowly grinding her hips over you, arousal gleaming on your lips and nose as she begins getting herself off, all the while watching the desperation in your eyes. “Set to work,” she growls, and you’re ready. More than ready, in fact. Overwhelmed with relief, until the Lord beats you to it.

Your spine arches off the bed as he slams in, knocking the air from your lungs once again, fucking you so brutally you could swear your Queen becomes some sort of Angel, wreathed in light. You don’t waste another second, arms wrapping over her thighs as lips seal over her clit, tongue rolling and flicking in those practiced movements. You know what she likes and you know how fast or slow to move according to the faint thrum of her pulse, the tempo of her breathing.

Pleasure numbs your skin, the bruising grip of his hands only vaguely registering as you focus on her. Swiping your tongue over her heat, suckling her clit, pushing at her entrance to have her enjoying this more than you are. She needs the best, and you’ll give her nothing but.

Heat ripples across your skin as the Lord continues pounding into you, sweat gleaming upon pale skin, desaturated from the void of sunlight this far below. He’s targeting that one, damned spot repeatedly, abusing it until your eyes gleam. Your Queen’s gaze pierces into, rolling her hips as she observes you beneath her, getting off on how content you are to utterly submit to her. So eager to please her.

It’s enough to have that steady heat in the pit of her stomach rapidly coiling, ready to burst, to spread across her skin. Her grip tightens brutally in your hair, hips winding sporadically as her high sweeps through her thighs, palming at her breast as your tongue swirls tight over her clit, suckling and swiping to take her through the orgasm. Feel as she flutters atop your mouth, her weight resting fully over your face, delicious wet heat for you to give your attention to until she’s satiated.

Your pleasure breaks with her own, eyes squeezing shut in bliss, relishing in the taste of her release, the scent of her arousal as the Lord continues pounding into you, throwing you into overstimulation as he refuses to release you from the intense pleasure. You peer up at your High Queen desperately, begging her to tell him to stop—it’s too much. But she watches, panting shallowly, observing how your brows scrunch together, eyes gleaming wet with overstimulation. The pads of your fingers press into her thighs needfully, tongue still lapping over her heat.

“Leave us,” she orders, pulling her attention away to icily gaze over her shoulder at the Lord. He obeys, slowing his thrusts before pulling out, and she feels your body begin to soften, muscles relaxing from being wound tight from pleasure. You’re so overwhelmed you hardly realise he’s left until she’s raising from your mouth, silvery, glossy threads of slick coating her thighs and your lips. Your tongue darts out, swiping over the skin, even if you’re hardly able to focus.

Her dark-painted lips curve ever so slightly in the corners, settling back over your mouth, winding gently, easing out the last embers of her pleasure. “How was that, pet?” She asks, still gripping your hair, though not as hard as before. You manage something between a hum and a moan, entirely fucked out after sustaining Rhys for a single round.

A cruel sounding laugh whispers from her lips, enjoying the sight of you so deluded and soft. So utterly out of it.

“Maybe I should let you and Rhysie play more often,” she muses, rolling lightly atop your mouth, clit bumping into the round tip of your nose.

“Get to see him pull you apart for me.”

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general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks

rhys taglist: @azrielshadows1nger

#amarantha smut #amarantha x reader #amarantha x reader x rhysand #amarantha x reader smut #crimson delight #the high queens courtesan

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