#looming over him as he desperately tries to hold on to his last shreds of sanity | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

silversatoru · 4 years ago

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step-dad nanami + brat taming 😼?

dark content event!!!

yes yes yes yes yes yes yesyyesysyesy mmm so good mm very tasty idea ily and i got very carried away

nanami + brat taming

tw: nsfw 18+, f!reader, psuedocest (nanami is your step-dad), brat-taming, noncon/dubcon, impact play, power imbalance, mild size kink?, manhandling, fingering, nanami said fuck jujutsu and is a very rich business man au

wc: 1.7k

you knew your mother’s new fiancé was a moderately successful business man, but you certainly weren’t expecting to pull up to a security gate on the day that you moved in with him. a large house constructed with dark-colored bricks loomed over your mom’s dented toyota prius, and you wondered what the hell one lonely man needed all this space for.

the white-haired butler that opened the front door and offered to carry some of your bags seemed nice enough, but you couldn’t help but scoff at the entire situation. walking onto the pristine and shiny floors in your scuffed up sneakers made you wonder just how your mom had managed to gold-dig her way into this one. either she was terribly convincing, or this guy was horribly desperate — either way you weren’t opposed to reaping the benefits. a butler, a giant in-ground pool, a bedroom that was three times the size of your old one?

yeah, you’d settle in real quick.

and you did just that, taking whatever you wanted and not feeling a shred of guilt for it. this guy, nanami kento, had more than enough money to go around, so why shouldn’t you indulge yourself? why shouldn’t you throw unsolicited pool parties while they’re at work? invite boys over to spend time in your king sized bed? your mom forced you out of your hometown to move in with this rich asshole, might as well make the most of it.

and things were going pretty fucking smoothly if you do say so yourself, or at least they were until nanami caught you sneaking a boy through your window one night.

you thought your were so smart, so slick with the way that you used his house as your personal playground behind his back. but why would he own such an esteemed property and not have security cameras? you weren’t smart at all, in fact you were incredibly, incredibly stupid.

and you’ve been getting on nanami’s nerves for a while, sashaying around the house in tiny outfits surrounded by a horde of immature boys. he’d watch you through the security footage while he worked — blood boiling at the way you flaunted his home as if it were your own.

those boys were never going to be enough for you; you’d walk all over them with your inflated ego and terrible attitude. you needed a man, someone grown, who could put your back in your place — you needed nanami — and fuck, he’d wanted you since the day you walked through his front door. he’d been patient, very patient, but this was enough to snap the thin wire that was holding him back.

he didn’t hesitate to kick the boy right back out the window he climbed through, threatening to call the cops if he didn’t leave his fucking property right now. and then a firm hand was wrapped around your wrist, dragging you up the stairs and into his bedroom.

he gave your arm a harsh tug, tossing your body towards his large neatly made bed. the edge of the raised mattress whacked you in the gut, your face falling forward and mashing into the silky comforter.

“what the fu-,” you snapped your head back to look at him, but were immediately met with a rolled up black sock being shoved into the back of your mouth.

you coughed and whined through the fabric as he grasped both your wrists in his one large hand, his other weaving the leather belt that was previously looped through his trousers around your wrists. he had zero patience for you right now, and he was making that evidently clear.

“i’ve tried to stay patient with you, but you’ve forced my hand this time,” he looked at you with dark eyes, one of his hands undoing the zipper at the back of your skirt.

you tried to kick with your legs, tried to cuss him out through the sock, but it was entirely ineffective, his strong hands holding you down and the cotton preventing a single coherent word from leaving your lips. your skirt was gliding to your feet now, your bare ass exposed and looking nanami right in the eyes.

“sneaking in another boy? how many times should i spank you for that? five? ten? i think ten would be suitable in this situation,” he used one hand to keep you pinned to the mattress, and the other to caress the smooth skin of your upper thigh, “what do you think?”

obviously you tried to reason with him, tell him that you didn’t deserve any spanks, that you weren’t a child, that this whole thing was fucking weird — but none of that made it out of your mouth, not through the soggy sock that was still in your way.

“i’m glad you agree, ten it is,” he gave you a thoughtful look, raising up his hand in preparation to strike you for the first time.

“one”.

his hand swung down with incredible force, a piercing smacking sound echoing through the room as you squealed and kicked under his touch. it felt like a thousand pins piercing through your skin, a blazing fire that burned through his fingers and straight through to your brain.

“two”.

the second smack was brought down with even more strength, your whole body lurching in response to the impact. you still kicked, still fought, still screamed through gag for him to fuck off, but a small part of you was already anticipating number three.

“three”.

the third strike to your backside flipped a switch in your brain, your legs falling limp and your screams replaced with pitiful whimpers and whines. his hand on your skin was starting to hurt so good, bits of the sock becoming trapped in your clenched teeth.

four, five, and six came quickly after, only a few seconds of rest between each of them — and nanami knew that he’d won when your feet began to push up onto your tip-toes, your ass wiggling closer to him as you waited for more.

“you count the next ones,” he reached forward and plucked the disgusting sock out of your mouth, tossing it to the floor and caressing your cheek.

seven came down hard, goosebumps lining your arms as you yelped; your tied up hands grasping at air. a shameful “seven”, rolled from your tongue a few moments later, your shaky voice flooding nanami’s ears.

“good girl,” he cooed, “three more”.

the next three stung the worst, nanami hissing at how badly it hurt his own hand — but your were a lightheaded, dizzy mess; practically drooling on his sheets by the time he was done. you’d done exactly what he asked, taken all ten and even counted out the last four — you were so good for him, and it was so easy.

he helped you roll over onto your back and then slipped his hand under the waistband of your panties, pulling and letting them fall down to your ankles. you’d taken the punishment pretty well, so it was only fair that you were rewarded now.

he sat down on the edge of the bed next to you, one of his hands pressing down onto your puffy clit. you knew how inappropriate this was all becoming, but your head was much too hazy to care.

he dipped two of his fingers low, slipping them into your slimy cunt and gently pushing them up inside you. his fingers were long, a sharp whimper flying through your teeth as he curled his fingers against your walls.

what the hell would happen if your mom got home right now? if she saw her soon-to-be husband fist-deep in her daughter?

those were the things you should have been thinking, but they didn’t cross your mind once. how could you care about the what if’s when nanami was stuffing you full with his thick fingers on one hand, and expertly massaging your clit with the other.

no one your age had this experience, and none of the boys you’d messed with had ever made you feel this good with such little effort. nanami was opening your eyes to his expert hands, and you began to wonder how many sorry brats had ended up in this exact spot before. maybe this is what he did for fun — romancing middle-aged women just to prey on their college-aged daughters until they inevitably get caught one day — and then the cycle continues.

but right now, on the edge of losing yourself around his fingers, you didn’t care if you were the hundredth step-daughter he’d done this to — it was worth it.

your walls clamped around his fingers as he thrusted them deeper, his other thumb rubbing hard and consistent circles over your sensitive nub. it was impossible to hold out any longer, the ball in your stomach flying undone as you rolled your hips into his hand and creamed all over his fingers. the room was filled with the prettiest mewls and whines, your body shaking and lurching as he kept feeling you even after your orgasm was fading.

only once you accidentally kicked him from the intensity of the overstimulation did he unsheath his fingers from your cunt, his skin glistening with your fluids. he shoved them into your mouth, your eyes widening as he offered a simple: “suck”.

but you did what you were told, you’d quickly learned that disobeying him would only lead to something worse. he smirked for the first time after he plucked them from your mouth, your lips making a satisfying popping sound.

“never gonna invite those boys over again, right?” he taunted you, an obvious bulge sitting in his dress pants.

you quickly shook your head no.

but if breaking the rules meant this would happen again?

you’d be breaking them every goddamn day.

#dark content mini event #tw stepcest #tw noncon/dubcon #tw impact play #tw dark content #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x fem!reader #daddy nanami #silver.nsfw

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lostinthewiind · 3 years ago

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Brave Heart: Chapter Fifty-Eight

Attack on Titan

Rating: Mature

Warnings: sexual themes, death, gore, mature themes, extreme violence, body horror, blood, weapons, major character death, age-gap relationship

Wind whipping her face and leaving her cheeks red and burning, Vera kicked her horse once more, encouraging it to gallop quicker through the empty fields past wall Sina. After she had managed to escape and outrun the guards chasing her, she waited until nightfall and stole a horse from the military stables. Then, without so much as a second thought about the whole thing, she set out.

Gripping the reins tighter, she continued to ride through the sunrise, exhaustion swiftly washing over both her and her steed. She ignored it. There was no time to be tired. They could rest when she was sure Levi was safe.

Minutes turned to hours, and before long the sweltering sun was high in the sky. Vera was grateful then that she wasn't burdened by her heavy, thick trench coat but knew that she would be wanting it later when it got colder.

When the vast collection of tall, green trees became visible in the distance, Vera slowed her horse briefly, looking out for any signs of Levi, the Scouts he had taken with him, or Zeke. From where she was, however, all she could see was miles and miles of grass stretching in every direction. Her destination appeared as nothing more than a shadow of treetops that looked deceptively small from this distance.

Eventually, Vera and her huffing horse made it to the edge of the forest and she stared up at the trees that now seemed to stretch endlessly into the sky above. Noting the fact that her companion was breathing hard, Vera gave him a comforting pat, both for his sake and her own. "Almost there, buddy," she told the animal. "I hope."

The horse snorted loudly as it followed the single path into the heart of the forest. Slowly, the sound of crickets and birds died out, swallowed by the dark, looming foliage. Having been in this very forest before gave Vera no sense of comfort; not when she remembered what happened last time. The eerie silence sent shivers up Vera's spine and she could sense the unease in her horse's every step. Eyes peeled, she searched high and low for any sign of Levi and his soldiers, but there was nothing ... until there was everything.

Vera's breath caught in her throat when she came upon a small clearing that had been inhabited not long ago. A few wagons were stationed around the perimeter of the encampment, some still holding a few crates of supplies while others had been pretty much picked clean. Tents littered the space, making it seem more cramped and crowded than it actually was.

Upon further inspection, this was no normal camp. It was obvious something had happened. One of the wagons was tipped over, a few of the tents were shredded and left to lie in the mud, and personal effects had been scattered along the ground, probably after being thrown from the destroyed tents.

The worst part was that there wasn't a single person in sight; not even a single dead body–none human, at least. Looking just past the clearing, Vera spotted the first Titan corpse, which was shocking–not just because this was the first Titan, dead or alive, she had seen her entire journey but also because it had yet to disintegrate, meaning it was a fresh corpse.

Then Vera saw the next corpse and the next. In total, she counted thirty dead Titans laying among pools of bright red blood just beyond the camp. Thirty Titans for thirty soldiers Levi had taken with him.

The only silver lining Vera could find in that situation was that there weren't thirty-one.

"Levi!" Vera called out, hoping beyond hope that he would hear her voice and peek out from whatever large tree trunk or tent he was hiding behind. But he didn't. Levi didn't respond. No one responded. The camp was abandoned. "Levi, it's me!" she tried again, this time unable to keep the desperation out of her voice; unable to keep the gnawing thought that one of the dead Titans was Levi out of her head.

After dismounting, Vera's horse headed straight for an untouched bucket of water to quench its thirst as she ventured forward. It was then that Vera cursed herself for not stealing a weapon along with her horse. If Zeke was still lurking around, he could jump out and kill her with ease.

For good measure, Vera searched each and every one of the tents that remained standing, but none of them were occupied. All she managed to find were a few hidden rations and a neatly folded Scout coat that she happily grabbed for later. Then, without an inkling of where to go from there, Vera walked over to the remains of what was once a campfire and sat in the grass. Her horse needed to rest and, as much as she hated to admit it, so did she.

Pulling out an apple that she had found hidden in one of the tents, Vera bit into it just as she looked up at the crate sitting in front of her and noticed the single teacup sitting atop it. Swallowing her food, Vera reached out for the empty cup and let out a small laugh. Of course, Levi would bring tea and fine China out with him to the middle of nowhere.

She prayed this meant that he hadn't had any of the wine. He had never been much of a drinker, aside from tea, and she sincerely hoped he hadn't started now.

"I'll find you." Vera ran her finger over the lip of the cup before gently setting it back down. "Just hold on a little longer, wherever you are."

As day turned to early evening and the warmth began to fade, just as Vera had predicted, she put on the coat she had taken. The clear sky was gradually replaced by a barrage of dark clouds and, not a moment later, it began to rain. Thankfully, the thick canopy of leaves above blocked most of the rain and kept Vera relatively dry.

Just as she was about to settle into one of the tents, a sudden loud explosion followed by the haunting screech of an injured horse echoed from somewhere far, past the forest. Vera froze, blood running cold. She waited a minute or so to listen for anything else, but when the forest remained silent, she knew something was wrong.

Grabbing her horse, who had been happily munching on a patch of grass, Vera rode out of the camp and in the direction of the noise.

Just past the Titan corpses, Vera noticed a pair of wagon tracks on the ground and mentally kicked herself for not investigating further earlier. She was willing to bet that the horse she had heard had been the one pulling the very wagon she was following, and that meant that at least someone was still alive–and although it might have been Zeke who managed to escape, it also could have been Levi. No matter how small the chance, Vera had to pursue it. Hange had trusted her.

Without the guidance of the wagon tracks, Vera was sure she would have gotten turned around inside the dark, confusing forest. Above, she could hear the sound of the rain against the leaves getting louder and louder and when she finally emerged from the other side of the forest and back into open field, she was almost immediately soaked to the bone from the heavy downpour.

Wiping her eyes frantically so she could keep track of the wheel marks in the mud, Vera kicked her horse faster yet again, wanting to get to the source of that explosion as soon as possible. She was so determined that she didn't even notice the fact that she was shaking violently and her teeth were chattering, and if it hadn't been for the fact that she had coincidentally looked up to see the state of the storm, she would have missed the sight of the five airships flying overhead.

Shocked and confused, Vera turned to look over her shoulder at the flying contraptions as they headed in the opposite direction as her, back in the direction of wall Sina.

"Shit," Vera cursed under her breath. That couldn't be good.

Drawing in a slow breath, Vera continued forward. There was only so much she could do, and right now, her goal was ahead, not behind her.

After another mile or so of travel, the wagon tracks finally ended. There had been a few times when Vera had thought she had lost the tracks due to the heavy rain and change in terrain, but this time she was sure it was the end. The scattered chunks of wood and wagon pieces littering the wet grass made it impossible to miss.

The sound of rushing water mixed in with the sound of the falling rain filled Vera's ears, overwhelming her and making it hard to focus on the things around her. Rubbing her eyes once more to rid her eyelashes of raindrops, Vera blinked a few times before noticing a steaming form a little farther up.

Inching her horse closer, Vera gasped when she recognized it as yet another Titan, this one laying on its stomach, steam billowing from its pores. There seemed to be a pool of blood beneath it, but since it was impossible to confirm if it was truly dead or not, Vera didn't get any closer to find out for sure.

"Levi?" Vera tried again. Nothing. No response.

As she spun her horse around to double back to the majority of the destroyed wagon, hoping to find a clue among the rubble of who had been in the wagon or where they had been going, Vera felt her chest tighten at the sight of a body on the riverbank.

A deep-rooted feeling of dread filled Vera and made her feel sick to her stomach. The body didn't move. It didn't even flinch when she called out to it. Terrified of what she might find but knowing that she had to check it out, Vera dismounted her horse and approached carefully.

When she saw the green cloak with a sliver of the wings of freedom visible, she knew she had found a Scout. When she saw the mess of straight black hair, her world stopped.

"L-Levi?" Vera didn't rush to his side. She couldn't. With every step she took, the more she was sure that it was Levi laying lifeless before her, and she couldn't handle all of that realization at once. "It's me, Levi."

When Vera dropped to her knees beside Levi, she stopped being able to tell if it was tears or raindrops falling down her cheeks. His face was almost beyond recognition with how much blood and torn skin were obscuring his features. If it wasn't for the dahlia pin on his uniform, she might have been able to trick herself into believing it was someone else.

But it wasn't someone else. It was Levi–and as far as she could tell, he was dead.

Throwing all sense to the wind, Vera wrapped her arms around the body and hugged him to her chest, trying her best to protect him from the rain and the cold. She didn't want him to get sick.

"Levi," Vera chanted his name over and over again as if there was some magical number that would bring him back. "Please, Levi . . . you promised I wouldn't lose you."

When he didn't so much as stir in response to Vera's desperate pleas, she finally broke down and began to sob. Hugging Levi as hard as she could, she prayed that he would be okay and began to rock back and forth gently.

Between the rain, the rushing current of the river, and her own cries, Vera couldn't hear anything else around her, which was why she nearly jumped out of her skin when a hand rested on her shoulder. When she looked up, she was met with the concerned look of Hange, who had just now realized that the body Vera was clutching was Levi's.

Vera didn't bother asking how or why Hange was there. It didn't matter.

Looking over her shoulder at the group of horses that had managed to gallop up right behind her without her even noticing, Vera didn't have a shred of care left to be embarrassed about her lack of awareness. Among the newly arrived individuals, Floch was at the front of the group, and behind him, more Jaegerists.

"H-Hange," Vera struggled to speak through her sobs. "Hange, you have to help him. Please, there must be something we can do."

"Here." Hange knelt down beside Vera and took Levi into their own arms. "Let me see him." They pressed their ear to Levi's chest and even felt for a pulse, but not once did even a glimmer of hope shine through their sombre expression.

"Is that Captain Levi?" Floch walked over and stood behind Hange, looking over their shoulder at the battered body in their arms. "I don't know what happened, but we're lucky it did. The biggest threat we faced is lying in a bloody heap."

Vera felt rage being to bubble inside of her, but before she could lash out, Hange reached over and rested a hand on her leg, grounding her to the situation and silently reminding her that they were unarmed and vastly outnumbered.

"We should put one in his head just in case." One of the Jaegerists reached for his rifle.

Hange shook their head. "There's no need. He was caught in a thunderspear explosion at point-blank range," they said, clearly having heard the same thunderous noise as Vera and having put the pieces together of what had happened. "It shredded his guts. Killed him instantly, from what I can tell."

"No." Vera refused to believe Hange's words. Even though she had all but assumed he was dead herself, it felt more permanent—more real—coming from Hange.

"Then give him to me," Floch ordered. "I want to check his pulse for myself, so hand him over."

Reaching out, Vera laid a protective hand on Levi's chest. "You keep your filthy, traitorous hands away from him," she spat.

Floch's jaw tensed, but before he could retort, the men he had brought with him began to shout. Over by the Titan, they had their weapons drawn, watching as steam began to rush into its pores at a rapid rate.

"What's happening to it?" Floch turned. "Did it just die?"

"That's not it," Hange corrected. "Their bodies don't suck in steam like that when they disappear."

As the rain began to lighten and the clouds began to part, giving way to a few rays of sunlight here and there, the Titan began to absorb the steam it had once been emitting until there was nothing left but a deformed skeleton. When the last of the steam had finally dissipated, Zeke Jaeger was left behind in the wake of whatever had just happened.

Slowly, the naked man–now fully reformed after most likely being caught in the thunder spear blast as well–began to slink forward. When he rose to his full height, his stare was nothing less than ominous and chilling.

Everyone was speechless, even Vera. With her eyes glued to the sight before her, she didn't even have a chance to react when Hange grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into the river. Her mouth opened to let out a shriek but her body plunged under the freezing water before she had a chance, the shock sucking the air out of her lungs.

By the time Vera finally found the energy to move her limbs again and drag herself through the rushing current back to the surface, she, Hange, and Levi had already travelled far down the bank thanks to the rapid to stream. In the distance, Floch's shouts could be heard, followed by gunfire, but they were too far away for it to matter.

Struggling against the water to keep her head above, Vera tried to time her breaths but ended up swallowing more river water than was probably good for her.

"Vera!" Hange's voice was just barely audible over the sound of the rushing rapids, but Vera could tell they were close. "Vera, over here!"

Finally, Vera spotted a flash of brown hair farther down the stream and paddled with all her might to catch up. When she did, Hange was swimming with one arm while using the other to keep Levi's head above water the best she could.

"Help me!" Hange gasped before their head went under for a brief moment. "He's not dead! I heard his heartbeat. Help me keep him up!"

Without a moment of hesitation, Vera reached out and grabbed hold of Levi. Together, she and Hange helped keep him afloat the best they could and hoped that any damage done from this risky escape, mainly the cold, didn't take an extra toll on his already mangled body.

Every minute fighting in that river felt like an hour, but finally, Hange deemed it safe to return to shore and the two of them swam for the riverbank and hauled Levi's body into the grass.

Falling down onto her back, Vera gulped air greedily as if every breath would be her last and tried not to focus on the numbness in her fingers or toes. When the adrenaline of the entire experience began to wear off, the same feeling of sickness returned—this time caused by a mixture of having swallowed too much river water and the pure panic—and before she knew it she was spewing water and whatever contents were left in her stomach.

Rushing over, Hange pushed Vera onto her side so she wouldn't aspirate any of her vomit. "That's it," they patted Vera's back comfortingly. "You're okay. Breathe."

Letting out a few more strained coughs, Vera wiped her mouth and sat up with Hange's continued assistance. "He's really not dead?" she asked hopefully, her gaze drifting over to Levi. He certainly looked dead.

Leaning over to Levi's unconscious body, Hange pressed their ear to his chest once more. "It's faint, but he's got a heartbeat," they said, their voice laced with both relief and hesitation. "Here, listen for yourself."

Following Hange's lead, Vera pressed her ear over Levi's chest, right beside where the yellow dahlia pin was. At first, she couldn't hear anything, either because his clothing was too thick or because the sound of her own heartbeat in her ears drowned it out. But then, ever so faintly, she could hear his heart beating alongside her own.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Vera focused on the sound of his heartbeat and nothing else. Right then, it was the only thing she needed.

"It's unlikely he will survive these wounds, especially since we can't get him any real medical treatment, but if he has a chance we have to act fast," Hange said, their words blunt and factual. They weren't about to sugarcoat anything. "You have to be prepared for the likely scenario that these are his final moments."

"They aren't." Vera shook her head, fully aware that her stubborn optimism made her sound like a child.

Hange sighed heavily. "Vera."

"No." Vera removed her coat and tore a piece off so she could tie it around the major wounds on Levi's head and face. "He promised me I wouldn't lose him. And he always keeps his word."

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bkwrm523 · 4 years ago

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Netflix and Chill

Title: Netflix And Chill Rating: Explicit Pairing: Bruce Wayne/female!reader Word Count: 2360 Warnings: Couch smut, accidental interruptions. Semi public sex, maybe? Summary: Just a quiet night in with your boyfriend and some movies. And of course, sex. Author’s Note: This one’s dedicated to @musikat18 We were just chatting about how we both wanted feels attacks for different characters, and so started beating each other with pillows and feels, and then this smut happened. Also I’ve been thinking about this one for awhile, soooooo, enjoy!

***

Believe it or not, it was a normal night at home with Bruce.

It had taken a lot of arranging and convincing, but you’d managed to get someone to cover Gotham for the night, and Bruce finally had the night off. Which meant, a night at home, just the two of you, his couch, and some movies.

You were only half paying attention, really. His arm was around your waist, and you were snuggled into his side. You were half asleep, really. You both needed more nights like this. He laughed occasionally at whatever you’d put on, a low warm sound that made you smile when you heard it.

A commercial break, and you felt his arm reach across his body to cup your jaw. You looked up at him, a question in your eyes. He tilted your face up towards him, leaned down and kissed you.

You let out a soft moan, leaning into him and sliding your eyes shut as his tongue pushed into your mouth. You reached up towards him, blindly grabbing his shirt and trying to wiggle closer to him.

He broke from your lips for a moment, drawing a small protesting noise from you that made his lips curl into a smirk. He shifted on the couch, pushing you down on your back and lying on top of you. His hips slotted in between your legs, and he kissed you again, soft but insistent. You felt one of his hands cup the back of your skull, holding you prisoner to the kiss. The action made you wet, and you couldn’t stop a moan into his lips. He took advantage of it, his tongue sliding into your open mouth. You ground up into him, already wanting more. Bruce growled, and ground back down into you. His dick was already mostly erect, judging from the way it rubbed against your clit even through the layers of clothing. You tried to cuss, to break away from his lips and gasp for air, but his grip wouldn’t allow for the movement, and all you could do was whine with helpless arousal. The kiss grew more aggressive, and Bruce kept grinding down into you until you felt ready to burst. Your legs squeezed his hips between them, and you tried to squirm underneath him. It didn’t get you anywhere, Bruce’s actions were relentless.

Bruce finally released your lips, and you gratefully gasped for air. Air that left you a moment later, when you felt his lips and stubble on the crook of your neck. You gasped, tried to beg and plead with him. But the way he sucked and nipped at your sensitive skin, words wouldn’t come, and all you could do was stammer unintelligibly.

Bruce ground again, drawing your attention back to his hips. You gave a high pitched gasp, your eyes rolling back in your head at the stimulation. His one arm was resting on the couch near your head, supporting his weight, and the other one came up to cover your mouth, preventing speech. He pulled your head to the side, exposing more of your neck to his eager perusal. You protested, your words muffled by his hand and squirmed harder, but there was no escaping him.

You tried to fight the rising orgasm, but Bruce’s grinding was relentless. You squirmed and struggled, but you couldn’t escape. Your hips stuttered, and a breath caught in your throat for a moment, and your orgasm caught up with you. You went stiff in his arms, and you felt him bite into your neck and growl. Your thighs squeezed his hips harder, and he ground down harder into you, pushing you higher and higher into the orgasm, until a second orgasm set off, throwing you higher. The only sound you could manage was tiny whimpers of protest, the words begging him to let you down dying in your throat.

Bruce finally let you come down, and you went limp on the couch, panting into his hand. He released your mouth, resting his arm next to you, and let your neck out of his teeth. He nuzzled your cheek, letting off a deep purr, and sat up a little to watch your face with a fond smirk.

“Bruce,” you murmured tiredly, lifting an exhausted arm to caress his cheek with your fingertips. He smiled wider, love in his eyes and gave you a quick, chaste kiss, nipping at your lips. You lifted your head up a little, kissing him back and drawing him back down to pin you to the couch again with his lips.

The kiss didn’t last long this time, before he went for your neck again. The other side, this time. You were too weak to his attention, gasping as you felt his lips and stubble on the crook where neck met shoulder. You reached up, remembering your arms for the first time in awhile, wrapping them around his shoulders and burying a hand in his hair. You begged and stuttered and squirmed beneath him, the only real effect of your actions, was the smirk you felt his lips curl into.

There was no warning, he simply released you and sat up. You lied there on the couch, disoriented and a little confused. Until he started to pull his tshirt off. Your eyes immediately brightened, and you sat up as his shirt covered his face, mischief in mind.

Bruce batted you back down to the couch before you could touch him. He finished pulling his shirt off, tossing it to the ground, and glared at you.

“No.” Bruce told you firmly.

You sulked a little, as he pushed off the back of the couch and stood. He pulled you up with him, making your breath catch when he stepped into your space. You lifted your hands and rested them against his bare chest, unable to tear your eyes away from it to see the smirk on his face. You felt his hands on your waist, sneaking under your shirt to caress and tickle the bare skin. You squirmed a little, so absorbed in the feeling that it took you a moment to realize he was unbuttoning your pants. He had them unbuttoned and unzipped before you reacted, opening your mouth to protest, but all that emerged was a little squeak. Bruce pushed your pants and panties down your legs, crouching and dropping a little kiss on your hip, drawing another squeak.

Bruce waited a moment for you to move, but you just stood there staring at him. He lifted an eyebrow and stood, looming over you. He easily picked you up, setting you down away from the pool of pants on the floor and kicked them away.

“Are you wet for me, kitten?” Bruce asked, his voice low and gravely. His Batman voice. Damn him, he knew what that voice did to you. “Let’s find out,” Bruce purred.

Bruce sat back on the couch, lying down faceup. Any normal couch might have had trouble fitting him, as tall and muscled as he was. His couch was enormous, however, and had plenty of room. Bruce grabbed your thigh, gently tugging you around. You followed, obedient and confused, as he pulled you onto the couch, straddling his middle. He still had his pants on, you weren’t quite sure what he was after. You settled your knees on either side of his chest, and Bruce lifted his other hand, moving both of them to grab your ass. You gave a little protesting squack, just as Bruce pulled you forward, until you were straddling his face.

Oh.

Bruce’s eyes glittered for a moment as you looked down at him with wide eyes, and you were sure he was smirking. He wrapped his thumbs enough to the side of your hips, giving him a good grip with his fingers splayed on your ass, and pulled you down to his lips.

You dropped one hand hard down to the back of the couch, clenching hard the moment you felt his stubble against your thighs. You felt his pleased growl vibrating your nethers, making you gasp a soft curse. Bruce lifted his head, eagerly burying his face in you, and you felt his tongue inside you.

“Oohhhh, fffffffff-”

“Good evening, miss y/n.” A familiar voice with a British accent drew your attention, from the open doorway on the other side of the back of the couch. Your head snapped back up, looking over at Alfred.

The back of the couch blocked his view, so as far as he could see, you were simply sitting alone on the couch. You desperately kept a calm expression, smiling at Alfred as Bruce ravenously ate you out as though you were his last meal.

“Hey, Alfred!” You replied, your voice miraculously keeping level. “How was your night?” Bruce’s tongue found your clit, and his lips wrapped around it and sucked. It was nothing short of a miracle that you didn’t make a noise.

“It was quite enjoyable, thank you for asking, miss. I have seen this particular opera many times before, but performed well is always a pleasure.”

“Glad to hear it!” You replied as Bruce pushed his tongue back inside you.

“Have you seen master Bruce?” Alfred asked, and you swore you could feel Bruce smirk against your pussy lips.

“Not… not sure.” You replied, your voice getting tense. Bruce was sucking on you again, and it made it difficult to see. “Probably working again.”

“Odd.” Alfred replied. “I was under the impression you two were planning on watching movies tonight.”

“Not until later.” You dropped your free hand to bury in his hair and try and push his face away from you. Your ability to concentrate was slowly getting shredded by his lips. Naturally, you weren’t able to move him an inch.

“I see.” Alfred replied. “Well, if you happen to see him, give him my regards.”

“I’ll do that.” You told Alfred. “Goodnight!”

“Goodnight, miss.”

Alfred was out of sight, closing the doors to the room you and Bruce were in behind him, and you paused while the sound of his footsteps faded.

The moment they were far enough away, Bruce’s grip on your hips tightened, and he yanked you down, startling a yelp from you. You stuttered Bruce’s name, already dangerously close to the edge after all his teasing in front of Alfred. You tried to lift back up, wanting to escape, but his grip on your hips was like iron, and you weren’t getting anywhere. A small scream escaped from your lips as you came, your hips rutting into him. Bruce eagerly ate you out, lips and tongue and stubble knowing just where to touch you and stroke and nibble until you were stuttering broken pleas and coming again.

Bruce finally let you go several orgasms later. Your shaking legs collapsed and refused to hold your weight. Bruce caught you, easily lifting you and moving you around as though you weighed nothing. He sat up on the couch, cradling you in his arms and holding you in his lap as you panted and shook. For a long moment no one spoke, as he just held you and let you recover.

“Can you do one more, kitten?” Bruce asked, his voice soft and gentle.

“Yes.” You replied without hesitation, drawing a chuckle from him. You were too weak to do much of the work, and it wouldn’t take much to make you come. But you wanted him. Bruce kissed you softly, and laid you on the couch on your back, and stood. He swiftly removed his pants, his huge erection springing to life in front of you. You licked your lips and stared at it; if you’d had any energy left, you would have sat up and sucked him off on the spot, but your muscles wouldn’t respond. Bruce lied on top of you, shifting his hips until his cock was brushing against your lips and clit. He nuzzled your face and neck, nipping and sucking and biting you as he ground gently against you. You squirmed and whined, getting wetter until your cum soaked his cock.

“Bruce,” you whined his name, pleading with him.

Bruce growled, burying his face in the crook of your neck and sinking his teeth into you as his cock finally, finally sunk into you. He pushed into you slowly, giving you plenty of time to adjust as his cock stretched you. Finally, he bottomed out, and just waited, teeth still in your neck as you adjusted. You whined and squirmed when you were ready, signaling to him to move, already!

His hips were powerful, and every thrust shook the couch. Bruce released your neck from his teeth and growled, his patience finally paying off. You could feel his control slowly shred, as each thrust was harder and faster and deeper. You arched under him, your eyes rolling back in your head, surrendering to him. One of your legs fell off the couch onto the floor, opening yourself wider to him. His next thrust was deeper still, and you both cried out.

He gave up all pretense at control then, thrusting wildly into you. You clung to the couch, clung to him, trying to delay your orgasm as long as you could to extend the ride. But you couldn’t hold on indefinitely, and it finally washed over you, dragging him down with you until you passed out from the intensity of the feeling.

You woke up in bed. Clean, and wearing his shirt and boxers. You were lying on your side in his arms; he was shirtless, wearing only the pair of pajama pants that matched the shirt you wore, lying on his back and holding you. His eyes were open but partly closed, dozing as he waited for you to wake up. They snapped open when he saw you wake up, and he smiled at you.

“So, was that a successful movie night?” Bruce quipped, smirking at you. You tried unsuccessfully to smother a giggle, hiding your face in his bare chest.

Dork, but he was your dork. And you’d made him smile, which was always a victory.

#fanfiction #bruce wayne #batman #bruce wayne/reader #batman/reader #bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #bruce waynexreader #batmanxreader #bruce wayne/reader smut #bruce wayne x reader smut #bruce waynexreader smut #batman/reader smut #bruce wayne smut #batman smut

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 4 years ago

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Rose Red’s All Hallows Eve: Preordained Position

Summary- 5.8k Curtis Everett x You. Your boyfriend got you tickets to a charity Haunted House, and the special features include immersed scenes from the movie of your choice. Once you hear that the one and only Curtis Everett from Snowpiercer is a part of the choices, you just have to go. Prepare for a night of apocalyptic fun!

Warnings- Brutal Killing, Drug Use, Non Con/Dub Con, Swears. Read at your own risk.

A/N- Written for @jtargaryen18 Haunted House 2020. Be sure to read the warnings for each chapter. The page dividers were made by @firefly-graphics , I highly suggest checking out her work, its really excellent and a bit of everything to choose from. The manor described in this story, Rose Red, is a piece of work from Stephen King, and I highly suggest watching the tv mini series, if you can find it. Perfect for this time of year. Special thanks to @what-is-your-plan-today for being my Beta in this project. Happy Reading and Haunting! 😈🎃 🌹

Chapter 2 / Rose Red’s All Hallows Eve Masterlist

“Why the fuck we keeping her?” Edgar sneered at you. You swallowed and looked away feeling a little more exposed now it was just the five of you left. Edgar, Grey, Nam, Curtis and of course you. Somehow you've made it this far.

Curtis searched through the room, but found little of much use, his boot pushing aside children's bodies while he went through desks and bins. Straightening, he responded finally to Edgar’s question.

“Because she's useful, Wilford’s pet. Even if he sent her to the tail end, he hasn't lost track of her. If we kill the bitch now, what leverage do we have? Besides, she gave us information. Before we came in this car, she told me to watch out.”

You looked down and shrugged a bit. “I didn't know it was going to be like this.”

“Well, we could have come out of it a lot worse. I should have listened.” Curtis paused for a moment at Tonya and reached down to close the woman's eyes, sighing at the lost members of their group once more. Moving to a stand and grabbing a hold of the handle of his ax, he nodded to Nam. “We move forward.”

This time when Curtis jerked you to his side, it wasn't as rough, checking your shoulder with prods of his fingers. “This needs to be sealed off or else you are going to get weak and pass out. I'm not dragging you along.”

You could already feel the pain and blood loss starting to tire you out. “Next car, it’s medical, dentistry… other stuff.” You try to remember, but it's getting hazier now, doubting yourself after all the differences you’d already encountered compared to what you’d expected.

“Medic. Good. We can get them to patch us up.” Curtis nodded as he gave you a gentle push forward. Nam opened the next door and you stepped through wondering what hell you were all going to find this time.

Thankfully, it was nice, much nicer than any of the other carriages you have been in. Wide open rooms lined the sides of a red carpet, and Curtis peeked in each one in turn as you walked down the middle. Edgar and Grey remained at the rear, clearly on guard should anything pop out. But nothing happened, in fact the people filling this cart seemed to ignore each of you completely, which suited you fine. Curtis paused at a room which contained what looked like a doctor treating a patient, and steered you in there. For the first time since you’d entered this cart someone seemed to notice you two.

“I’m with a patient.” The doctor remarked, pulling away with a needle he had been injecting the man's face with. You couldn't help the wince you gave at the man's now unnatural looking face, much like those grinning kids that would haunt you probably for the rest of your life.

Curtis obviously didn't give a shit, using his axe to point at the door. “Get out before I carve your heart out.” The simple threat from this menacing man left the patient scrambling to get past everyone, scoffing when he brushed against Edgar and wiping the invisible dirt from his shirt. Edgar made like he was going to throw his own weapon, lining him up. “Be so easy ya know’ Just one fling.”

“Edgar get your ass in here and let's get you fixed up.” Curtis grunted as he eased his coat off, and then you could see where his shirt had been shredded, unaware of just how much damage he had taken.

At first concern bloomed through your chest, worried at what you were seeing. The doctor tutted as he started to patch up Curtis’s back, muttering under his breath. Then you started to remember this man kept you alive just cause you were useful, raped you because he thought you were nothing more then Wilford’s whore and your concern melted away as fast as it had appeared.

“Get over here Little Bird and let him look at your shoulder.” Curtis snapped when you were glaring at him, as he pushed off the seat. Just as he was moving to a stand, the doctor's hand whipped out from his jacket pocket and stabbed a needle into Curtis’s neck, pushing whatever was in the vial into his system.

With a yell Curtis whipped around and grabbed at the doctor's neck, his fingers digging into the column of his throat, but he started to collapse. Behind you the same thing was happening to Grey, Edgar and Nam, all caught unaware by guards who had seemingly appeared from nowhere, each man crumbling down into a heap on the floor. The doctor wrenched Curtis’s hand off him, and stepped away, tossing the used needle aside. You backed into a corner as the militia men came to collect each one of your captors, dragging them away. You tried to follow as they took Curtis, but the doctor stopped you sharply. “Oh I don't think so Y/N.”

��How do you know my name?” You snapped, trying to wrench away from him. This frail but surprisingly strong man smirked.

“Wilford already filled us in.” He stretched your arm out and used a prepared needle to stab you, even while you tried struggling.

“Where is he? He put me in this place” You tried to get answers, wriggling to get him to release you, but whatever he injected immediately hit you. This time when you started to go under, it wasn't nearly as painful as last time and the last thing you heard was the doctor's calming voice.

“If you survive this next couple of cars, you will meet with him.”

And then it was nothing but darkness, blessed darkness and you hoped to stay there for the rest of the time.

You woke to hands pawing at you, hot lips on your neck and your body being tossed back and forth as parts of your clothing got pulled off. When your eyes sprang open, you seemed to be in a pit, loud people standing above you looking down at you, laughing at your expense as they stared at you like you were an animal in a zoo. They started pouring bottles of cheap champagne over you till you were spluttering from being unable to breath without inhaling the alcohol, and they sprinkled you with something foul smelling, Even blowing the powder down at your face forcing you to inhale it. What the fuck? You try rubbing your face when everything starts fading in and out of focus, a slurred giggle bubbling from your chest. “W-what?”

Suddenly Edgar pushed you back, joined by Grey while they both jerked your pants down and you squealed in shock at the two men, each one wild eyed and giving that unnatural grin that scared you. You tried twisting away from them, desperately attempting to claw your way away. “No, no not again.” you sobbed. Just as you had almost pulled yourself free from the pit, a laughing front ender shoved their foot against your forehead and pushed you back into Grey and Edgar’s arms where they started grinding their aching bodies into your ass, hip, wherever they could while they hotly panted against your face. Whatever they gave you was making you lose your will to fight slowly, and Edgar rubbed a handful back under your nose so you breathed it in once more. Your eyes swept down to see that it was kronole and you suddenly realized that was the reason your mind was so foggy. As that thought broke through the mist in your brain you tried pulling away but to no avail.

Grey’s hands pulled you down to lay in the pit all the time the circle of people above remained jeering at your impeded state while he rutted through his clothing against you.

You were about to be raped again and couldn't stop it. In fact you were getting to the point you didn't care, the more the kronole messed with your senses. You went limp, the two men manipulating you back and forth between them, bites to your neck and shoulders, hands grabbing your breasts through your bra…

And then, your addled mind registered a roar of rage which came from somewhere above, and a dark shadow loomed over the group standing around your pit. You shrunk back in fear, as Grey and Edgar looked up in surprise.

Curtis dropped into the pit, clearly out of his mind too from kronole, but he was far more intimidating. “She's mine.” he snarled, and slammed both men away from you. He grabbed your hips, and jerked you against him, and his hand moved into your hair, ripping your head back viciously enough to make you scream. “Just proving my point, you’re Wilford’s whore rubbing against these boys.” He bit against your lips and pushed you back to sprawl against the ground. Grey was the first to recover, going for Curtis in a rage for being interrupted when Curtis whipped around, grabbing Grey’s head and giving a vicious wrench, twisting it till it jerked at an unnatural angle before he tossed his body out of the pit. Edgar came next, eyeing Curtis as he circled him, looking to attack. You tried to pull yourself up the wall when Curtis wrenched you back into him.

“You couldn't get away last time, you're not getting away this time.” Above the drugged onlookers cheered, breaking more kronole and sprinkling it down over the three of you. Curtis inhaled the powder deeply once more as it settled all over his face like a dusting of ash, and his pupils blew almost black suddenly. Dropping you, he twisted and attacked Edgar, the two men unevenly matched and equally out of their minds. Curtis had the upper hand being bigger and he ended up crashing Edgar's head over and over into the steel side of the pit, once his head was completely crushed in, he let him go and turned towards you.

Curtis was nothing but a kronole crazed demon now his face covered in the green dust of the drug. The lighting above continued shifting back and forth as more people packed in to watch, but your depraved audience faded out as the man came stalking towards you…

And then that fog descended on your brain once more and you realized you didn’t want to stop him. You were a slave to the heat rising in your chest and the clenching of your core at wanting this man to fuck you, needing him to fuck you. You scrambled over to him and leaped to wrap your arms and legs around him, grinding yourself into his tented pants, your nails digging into his jacket. You knew that if you didn’t fuck him right now, you would have to someone else. He slammed you into the wall, crushing your chest against his hard one, clearly experiencing the same madness you were, that driving need to pound into you. Edgar and Grey had done half the work before you were drugged, but now Curtis and his dirty clothes crushing the air from you was making you hotter, wetness coating the front of his pants as you gave a grind.

“Fuck me.” You finally hoarse out while trying to open the front of his pants.

Curtis grasped your wrist and easily pinned them back, spitting in your face. “Mine, that pussy belongs to me. Fuck those boys, and Fuck Wilford.”

You nodded and arched to give him room to get his cock out, causing you to look up, temporarily blinded once more as the partying people started to pour and throw random stuff down at you, garbage, more kronole dust, pouring that cheap champagne. But you didn't feel the stuff bouncing off you, nor did you hear the jeers at how nasty the tail enders were. No, all you could feel was Curtis as he slammed into you. So fast and hard, that you locked your legs harder around his hip, his grunts at how you were so tight around him were nothing but whooshing air right out of his lungs. Setting a brutal pace, fucking you into the wall, he used your body harshly, bruising you and you didn’t care. You didn't care that he was fisting his hand in your hair, or that his teeth were sinking into your neck and shoulders while his grunts matched each slamming slap on your body against the wall.

For you it was satisfaction at the burn, the hard rage he was forcing into your body. Your eyes rolled back while he arched himself to bite and kiss on your breasts, marking them with broken skin and lapping the blood that started to seep down your cleavage. It felt good, all so good that you couldn't hold yourself back and started cumming on his cock with no warning.

“Curtis- fuck I cant.” you started as he angled your hips, dragging his cock through clenching muscles and bottoming out. Those grinds against your clit, started you right back up again.

“Mine.” was all he said, his pupils still black soulless orbs, a grin that scared the shit out of you and you could do nothing but hang on once more as he used your body, marking you every which way, forcing you open around his cock over and over till you were ragdoll limp between him and the wall until he brought you off again, crying cause it was too much.

Then he finally jerked into you, his cum bringing you back aware at the soreness of your body, the sweaty ache and rawness where you were rubbed against him, between your thighs, sticky with a sharp ache. Your mind cleared, suddenly aware of where you were an what had happened and you took a shaky breath, your head sagging back against the wall as you fought back tears of despair. Curtis slowed, panting against your shoulder, and when he lifted away, those blue eyes you were familiar with were back, confusion as to what had happened was creased in every single line of his face, and he let your hands go, numb as they fell. You swiped your trembling hand over his kronole covered face quickly to wipe it away and you jerked his shirt over his nose. “Don't inhale anymore!” You pleaded and he pulled away, his hands falling to your hips to hold you standing as your legs were shaking.

“We have to get out of here. What's the next car?” He yanked his jacket off and swept it around you, covering your mouth and nose with the collar as you tried to figure out how you two were supposed to get out and through the people, who you now realized were also out of there fucking minds from the kronole. Curtis didn't seem to hesitate though, approaching the edge, he grabbed someone's legs and yanked, sending them sprawling and laughing, pulling them over the edge and kicking at their heads. “They are so fucking out of it from kronole and alcohol that they won’t put up to much of a fight.” He kept going, smashing people down till he could crawl out, shouldering others out of the way and reaching with his hand to grasp you. You tried not to step on anyone and held onto his hand as your legs were grabbed, one of the first people recovered enough to make a snatch at you. You screamed, kicking out your legs while Curtis pulled you up. People started to crowd against him, jostling him and also grabbing at you as he managed to get you over the edge and as you straightened up you realized they were trying to push you both back in.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” they started chanting while Curtis kept you against his chest, pushing you away from the pit.

Now you two were alone, weaponless, and being crowded in a mob of frontenders yelling obscenities. “Come on fuckers, we want a show.” Someone grasped at your coat and yanked you into the mob of people, you tried screaming Curtis' name but you were jostled too quickly, shifting from person to person, and you could see Curtis pushing through, trying to keep an eye on you as he split the crowd apart.

One thing that the frontenders were not was fighters. Curtis was easily able to shove and punch his way through. You ended up getting slammed into a giant steel door with a W on it, your head colliding painfully making you see stars and you were just coming around as someone was trying to pry open your coat. You slapped at him, and kicked him away, pulling it back closed. Curtis soon joined you, roaring for people to get back which for whatever reason they did, shrinking away enough so he couldn't hit them, making threatening moves to come forward again though hoping to intimidate him. The door behind you creaked, and you grabbed the back of Curtis’s jacket to pull him through, sure that you two would be safe.

The next room was nothing more than computers. You remembered this part of the movie, realizing that you were near the front and hopefully the end of this nightmare. Once Curtis was through, you slammed the door shut, pressing your forehead against it with a sob of fear while the crowd rushed forward, feeling the steel door shake with the force.

“Were safe, for now.” you said as you moved to straighten, and someone other than Curtis spoke.

“Yes, finally I’ve been waiting for a few days now for you two.”

A shiver racked your body as ice dread filled your veins and you looked over your shoulder to see Curtis shaking too. But not in the same way you were, instead he was trembling in adrenaline and rage at the man sitting so calmly before you. Wilford smiled at the two of you as he brought a fragile cup of steaming tea to his lips and slurped it loudly, smacking his lips. “I will say though, it's been a hell of a show. Sit sit! Coffee, tea? How about a night cap?”

You tug on Curtis’s sleeve to try to get his attention, but he's hyper fixated on Wilford, shaking you off. He storms forward to get his hands on him when Wilford pulls a gun out of his robe, aiming it for Curtis.

“Another step Everett, and I will not hesitate. SIT.”

With a look of absolute hatred on his face, begrudgingly Curtis did as told, whilst you remained still pressed against the door, feeling the slams of bodies pound on the door. “Come Y/N my dear, you have nothing to be worried about.” Wilford said in a manner so happy you wanted to scream at him.

Curtis's accusing and hurt eyes turned towards you after Wilford said that, and you shook your head at him.

“I swear Curtis, it isn't like that.” although why you were apologizing to your rapist captor you had no idea.

“I fucking know what it was like” Curtis spat “This was all a set up wasn't it?”

Wilford gave a chuckle as he poured liquor into fancy glasses, bringing them to the table.

“Well yes, it was a setup Curtis. But I assure you Y/N didn't know.” He pushed the glass to Curtis, and his icy blue eyes twinkled in joy. “But this is the first time you've gotten this far in a while.”

His head whipped back to Wilford. “Gotten this far?”

“Oh yes, you don't seem to like staying in your preordained position Curtis.” Wilford sighs as he finishes his drink. You listened intently, this too wasn't right. “But such is life… or death? More like this is our death. So, time for you to return.” Wilford gave a snap of his fingers, and Curtis stiffened, moving to a stand almost robotically.

“Curtis?” you whimpered out a bit seeing him stride back towards you, everything you knew about him was missing as you gazed up at him. He brushed past you, his hand cupped your face, thumb sweeping back and forth over your cheek before whispering. “I'm sorry…” he whispered in such a broken way, your mouth just dropped, gaping at him. Gone was the rage and fight, leaving just sorrow on his face and he slipped out the door back into the crowd. You spun around to watch him disappear into the mob, Wilford watching your reaction curiously. The door slammed shut suddenly, making you jump and spin around to face the only person left with you in the room. “Why is he sorry? I don't understand what is going on, any of this. Why is he just leaving me here with you?!” your voice breaks as you're saying this, so close to just melting down at the stress and fear that was taking a toll on your body.

“He’s sorry because he knows exactly what this place is and that he caused it. You see, before Curtis was this tailend leader, He was head of a construction crew for Rose Red, back in 1903.” Wilford seemed to struggle with remembering the date. “1904? Anyways, he was laying the foundation of Rose Red, while I was honeymooning with Ellen. I didn't want her to see any of this half finished, so we were touring across the world. Curtis had one major deadline, to finish our house in two years. I received telegraph after telegraph of nothing but issues from him. Working conditions were subpar, men were getting injured or killed in accidents of construction. The demands were unfair, pay not enough.” Wilford rolled his eyes listing the complaints, you were just listening in silence still in shock at what happened. “Finally I had enough, sent back that he was to be removed from the ground by authorities and another hired to take his place. Simple, correct?” He asked as if you were to answer. After a few seconds of those icy blue eyes staring at you he went back to the story. “Curtis thought he had all this ‘responsibility' to his men.’ Something in him snapped, and that bastard tried to stop the train I had bringing supplies in from the harbor. Curtis didn't just stop the train…” Wilford gave a chuckle of disbelief. “No, his attempts derailed the train where it sits now. Screeching metal coming to a stop, and killing hundreds of men onboard, himself included. That day is when Rose Red came to life, all that death, all at once stains the earth, the blood soaking into the dirt while they perished in the smoke and flames, trapped in steel boxes. When something that tragic happens, it stains the earth, trapped energy that allows hell on earth.”

You shook your head in disbelief, snapping out. “Impossible, whatever this is… why didn't Curtis just end you, we made it. This sick game you're playing with us. That's all this can be. I paid for an interactive experience, but not this.”

“Whatever this is, it’s your fate little girl, accept it.” Wilford cut you off with a snap, smoothing his hands over the fine silk of his robe. “And don't worry about Curtis Y/N, he will return safely to the tail end, and start all over again, that is the way it has to be, that is what fate Rose Red wants for him.”

You could feel bile threatening to burn its way up your throat, you couldn't let yourself believe what he was saying, as it was simply impossible. These things didn't exist, they were books and movies, tales told to tell children to scare them into behaving. Ghosts? Haunted Houses. Your mind echoed Bryce’s words earlier that night ‘You know that shit isn't real’. So what was Wilford playing at? You finally snapped, giggling, turning into laughter. Wilford ignored you, till you started screaming at him.

“YOU GO GET STACEY, CAUSE I WANT THE FUCK OFF THIS TRAIN, NOW.” your voice kept getting shriller with each word. “WHEN BRYCE HEARS ABOUT THIS, YOU CAN BET HIS GRANDFATHER WILL HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY ABOUT THIS CHARITY FUNCTION.”

Wilford arched one brow and chuckled, moving to a stand, and wrapping his fingers around the second untouched glass. “Stacey? Y/n, you know what you saw. Wasn't Stacy’s face smashed in?” You closed your eyes, pushing down the image, chanting in your mind, not real, not real, all pretend. “Matter of factually Y/N, you have Bryce to thank for your active participation in Snowpiercer.”

Your eyes snap open at this, narrowing on Wilford “Bryce? What does Bryce have to do with whatever this all is?” you’re confused at why your boyfriend would be mentioned and you slide along the wall to keep away from Wilford as he comes closer to you till you bump into the table and fall into Curtis’s seat.

“Why everything Y/N. You see, Rose Red Manor is indeed haunted. My wife Ellen, that is her domain. Your boyfriend happened to break in looking for some artifacts I came back with when we were on our honeymoon in Africa. They would be considered valuable now, but my grandson didn't care to have my collection so they remained in the manor. Bryce though, well he admired the pieces, wanted to study them.” Wilford gave a shake of his head with a sigh. “Bryce was of course killed by Ellen. Her rage towards me, makes her banish men's souls to the ground.”

And then your mind recalled the story, Rimbauer infected his wife with some unknown disease while they were on their exotic honeymoon, that was why the rumors went that men who entered Rose Red were gruesomely killed, where women simply disappeared to never be seen again…

“Bryce isn't dead, I saw him. I talked to him tonight.” You shook your head

“Yes, he's very much alive now Dear, but he wasn’t for a time. His body was stuck in the house, ready to rot right where Ellen killed him. But she banished his soul from the house, and left Bryce's soul wandering the grounds, he happened to stumble upon my part of Rose Red, what luck.” Wilford sipped from the glass, swirling it a bit. “You know I miss the real stuff?” shrugging he set it down. “Bryce happened to find me, begging to be brought back, and would give anything to return to the living. I had no interest, all that matters is Rose Red has fresh souls to feed off of. But your boyfriend made a proposition that I was intrigued with. An innocent soul in his place. Do you know how valuable an innocent soul is? So much more to give, cruel I know, the unfairness of using something so pure and innocent to keep his parasite of a house alive. But I must do what can to keep my Ellen happy in life or death. It is my fault she has to live eternity like this.” His cold fingers traced your face, you wrenching back out of his touch.

“No… he wouldn't do that, he wouldn’t sacrifice me…” you whispered, your throat closing and your heart slamming in your chest. And then the wave of realization crashed over you. of course he would. Bryce was the most selfish man you've ever met.

Wilford tsked a bit. “Well one innocent soul isn't enough to feed Rose Red, to give the house enough energy to keep building like Ellen wants. The house must keep growing, Ellen’s soul would die and fade away if she couldn't keep adding more to her collection. I told Bryce two innocent souls, delivered by tonight, and he could leave alive and free. But don't worry, Bryce will pay eventually, you can't make a deal with a devil and expect to walk away untainted.”

Not Stacey too. You screamed internally. No wonder Bryce insisted you take her as well.

“I must be asleep, a nightmare.” You spit out, your hands shaking as you rubbed at them, trying to wipe off the dried blood, hoping it would wake you up, that all this was some kind of crazy your mind made up. Wilford almost looked sympathetic when he spoke again.

“I’m afraid not Dear. Bryce told me about how you loved this Snowpiercer story, so I figured if you're going to be condemned to this, might as well be enjoyable.”

“I don't want to be condemned! Please how can I get out of this?” You started to figure out ways to bargain, like Bryce apparently did. But Wilford responded with a mere shake of the head.

“Ahh, that won't be happening. Innocent souls are much stronger. Rose Red can keep building now… many years on you alone. Ellen will be much pleased. Curtis also likes you as well, he was always one of my favorite victims of Rose Red.” Wilford leaned back in his chair. “Since he's banished to an eternity of hell, he deserves someone to make it easier. His own little songbird singing him hope. Any other girl I’ve sent him, he always ends up murdering her before he gets cut down.”

You were whipping your head back and forth, pushing to a stand to start looking for a way out, anyway to get off the train, and Wilford just watched you for a moment processing all that he was saying.

“If it's any help, you will be joined with Stacey again. Maybe your next trip to the front, you will manage to keep her alive.” Wilford moved to a stand as you tried to open the door, yanking on it to open, when he twisted you to face him, your bottom lip trembling as you looked up at him.

“Please… I don't deserve this.” you whimpered.

“You don’t Dear, but you're going to endure it as we all must. Very few victims of Rose Red actually deserve the fate that has befallen them.” He plucked the Rose from his breast pocket from earlier and laced it through your hair while you trembled, tears rolling down your face as you started to accept the truth of it all.

“You're not going to let me off this train, are you?” your voice trembled with defeat, and Wilford shook his head.

“No, you now belong to Curtis Dear. His one reward for his life of hell. Although I will leave you with a parting gift. Your memory will remain so you can help him make his way through the Cars to the end. Save you from some of the pain of being brutally killed.” fear washed over your face and Wilford smiled gently to reassure you, although there was no way it was going to make you feel any better, be less afraid. “I will be seeing you again soon Dear.” Wilford said softly before he leaned forward and kissed your forehead, your eyes closing in defeat.

You opened to darkness, gasping as you tried to understand where you were. It was intensely cold again, and a dim light came into your view, a tiny fire from a match. A familiar face loomed from the darkness to rake cerulean eyes over you, his head tilting as he looked you up and down.

“Wilford sent us a present.”

No, not again. You think as you're dropping to your knees to beg Curtis not to hurt you. “Please, have mercy on me.”

“Mercy? Were we ever shown any mercy? I don't know what Wilford was thinking Little Bird, sending you back to me with this innocent act of yours. But don’t worry I will make you sing.”

And then he gave a shake of his wrist, killing the match and plunging you both back into the darkness.

Your hell started all over again.

#jshauntedhouse2020 #curtis everett #curtis everett x you #curtis everett fanfic #snowpiercer #snowpiercer fanfic #rose red's all hallows eve #amber writes #sweater writes

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allforbtsu · 4 years ago

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On eachother we rely- Chapter 1

Ot7 Werewolf X Werewolf Reader (eventually)

Summary: In a world where werewolves are known to exist and are being hunted down for science reasons, y/n has to regain her freedom after being captured. What she didn't know was that a new beginning was looming, new people entering in her life. Will she be able to find a new home in them? Has all she been through help her protect her new family?

Word Count: 3.5k

Warning: Mention of breeding and kidnapping.

She knew what was happening the moment she heard the screams. The sound of a skin being slayed, the sour smell of blood mixing with soil, the whimpers of the little ones and the bright eyes of a mother being taken away from her pups. As hard as she wanted to fight, to send them away, she couldn't. She knew the alpha was killed first, then the females and younger ones, there was no back up if she decided to strike.

Surely but slowly, y/n peaked from behind the bushes she slept, the moonlight that once brought comfort and security, was blooming a scenery she never wanted to see in her life. The corpses of her loved ones layed on the ground, as if they had never woken up from their sleep in the first place, being shredded from life in an instant. She had to run far away from there, but her body was unable to respond to her pleas, few whimpers left her mouth, as her legs trembled from anxiety, and as she looked up she stared into the hard eyes of one of the killers. “Here you are, little thing” The man whispered, as she felt something poke her neck, a tranquilizer dart. y/n tried to stand up, to fight against the uneasiness, but her body collapsed on the ground with the last view of the forest she will have in a long time.

Her parents have warned her about the consequences of being found by scientists. Years ago, after being publicly announced to society that werewolfs did in fact exist, the remaining packs were obligated to leave the cities and abandon their human ways to save their lives. Whole families traveled deep into forests and stayed in their wolfs forms so as to not get captured, as people have no way to distinguish normal wolves from werewolves. Even all of the advances the packs tried to do to maintain the species, hundreds of packs were killed across the globe, and the ones that are left are trying to be hunted down.

Awoken amongst all the fear of knowing that werewolves exist, curiosity developed. Wonder of what the supernatural holds, and what makes these beings so unique. Facilities have been built to study this species, so one day humans can control them and use them as weapons. Diverse studies are done day by day, torturing werewolfs all over the world. Whole committees made to be in charge of this new ramification of science. Auditoriums were cramped of people wanting to hear the new discoveries being made, as if they were talking about plants or space, not beings that are as human as they are.

The studies being done nowadays are two, the one being done at labs, where they inject or extract things from werewolves, just to get a glimpse of what is going on inside of them, and the behavioral section, where biologists study werewolves behaviors in different scenarios. They are usually left in cages of two, males can be paired with males, females with females or mixed, randomly, and how each werewolf reacts upon their partner and taking into account the werewolf position in a pack, Alpha, Beta or Omega, biologists try to understand their behavior.

Not everyone in a pack is chosen to be captured and taken. The fact that the hunters came during the night and killed them all skilfully leaving y/n only alive, means they had been tracing them for a while without them noticing. Usually when a pack is mostly formed by older and weaker members, and offsprings of said beings, they are not taken into account as valuable. Labs only wanting the best of the best, as they can reproduce those whose DNA is the strongest. If they had been watching them, they would know y/n position in the pack, right hand of the alpha and the strongest one after him. The rest of the members were all female, her mother, weakened by stress and desperation of her family well being, her two sisters, and three little kids, being y/n three nephews. All killed. It was winter, animals had migrated, the pack was unable to hunt together, as someone had to take care of the little ones, and unable as well to migrate, as the pups could not walk big distances, made the pack eat less and weaken their senses.

All lead to this, to y/n waking up in an unknown bright white room. She laid on one of the beds on the left, while on the right another bed layed. She looked around and found that the fourth wall was a see through glass, outside of it, in what seemed like a hall she could see other rooms, or cages we may say. Right across from her a girl laid on the floor staring at the ceiling, while another one was prompted against the wall reading a book out loud. She stared a little while longer, till the girl who was reading catched her gaze, and stared right at her eyes in what seemed as understanding, a little smile tried to shape into her lips, but a grimace came out. The girl on the floor poked her leg, prompting her to keep reading, and without a second thought she did.

y/n stood up from the bed and put both hands in the glass, as if she could push it and look for more information. If she turned well enough and leaned into the glass, the cage next of the two girls could be seen, there a male seemed to be staring out at the hall as she was doing, his black hair and cupid like nose catched her attention, but before he could catch her gaze on him, he rapidly parted from the glass, as if it was burning him. Steps could be heard getting closer, and the two girls who were across from her stood up rapidly and hid behind the duvet cover of their beds. On instinct y/n decided to copy the other werewolves and parted as far away as possible of the glass, sitting down on her bed once again, squatting down near the back wall.

A woman with a white rope accompanied by two men came near her cage, but her stare fell somewhere else, the male that was handcuffed in the mens grasps. A gasp left y/n lips when she realized that they were going to put him with her, inside this little room, a male, a werewolf male, from another pack, that could hurt her to pieces if he wanted to. Had this humans learned nothing, or was this another test to see if she was gonna be mutilated or not. The boy's eyes did not part from the floor as they took the handcuffs of him and threw him inside. The woman, who y/n must believe is a biologist, stared at her and smiled. “Hello, welcome.” She said as if she was talking to a baby, making y/n hairs on the back of her neck stand up in anger. “We are so lucky to have you here, you have no idea. It will take awhile for you to get used by him” She pointed to the boy who was already in the room with her. “But when you do, we cannot wait for the moment you will help us advance in this science, the both of you” Firmly she said. “ I will leave you to it” Gracefully she and the two men left her view.

y/n was paralysed, not knowing how to react to anything, but most importantly right now, to the threat that was in the room with her. The boy lifted his head, and stared at her from under his eyelashes. Right behind him, she could see the two girls from the cage across looking at her in worry. “I'm not going to hurt you” Her gaze fell back to the boy, both of their bodies stiff. “I swear, I'm not like others”. y/n nodded. “Stay away anyway” She answered as the boy tried to get closer to her bed. “Stay on your side” The boy looked surprised at her, but followed her orders, and sat in his bed facing her. “My name is Hoseok, you can call me Hobi. What 's yours?” He looked at her with a kindness she was not expecting, and as she stared into those eyes she could not not give in to his question. “y/n...It will be nice to meet you if you don't hurt me though '' Hobi looked at her and quietly laughed. “I won't hurt you, I promise” He crossed his heart with his fingers. Even though he knew y/n was not fearing for her life anymore, he decided he will take baby steps as to not scare the female wolf.

"When did you arrived?" He asked, playing with his fingers, trying to look as small as possible, his back hunched. "I guess yesterday night. I woke up minutes before they brought you in here" Hobi nodded. "I have been here for a while now" He looked up and stared at her. "I guess they were waiting for someone to macht me up" He smiled sadly. Y/N's thoughts went a mile per minute trying to understand what he meant by that. If her thoughts were correct and they were Indeed in the behavioral section, this pairing could mean one thing…"Yes, I think they want us to breed"

Y/N let out a big sight, her eyes looking out to the see through glass as if it would open up and allow her to escape. "I'm not going to do anything you don't want, I promise. I'm as scared as you are” "Do you think they will have as do other stuff? Have they done something to you?" Y/n didn't care if what she was asking was too personal or delicate, all she wanted was to gather as much information as possible and run away from there. "They have made a few tests on me, but nothing too crazy, I guess it was only as a check up. They will probably do it to you as well, don't worry when they do. I have been in a really secluded area since I arrived a few months ago, they probably do things differently here, I don't know, sorry"

Hobi's kind and soothing way of speaking brought some sense of comfort in y/n even thought what he was telling her was nowhere near, but truly frightening. She began believing she had a great amount of luck to have been paired to someone so respectful, but her werewolf side not fully allowing her to trust him just yet.

A Big blast sounded through the speakers on the walls, the girls across from them stood up from their bed excitedly, and the sound of shoes hitting the ground and banging against glass became louder by the second. Y/N swallowed, nervousness creeping in, not understanding what was happening. "Is time to eat" Hobi said delicately. "I'm sure they will give us a portion each. You must be hungry" He went and stood up against the door on the class, taking his hand out of a little hole big enough for a plate to pass through. As a little petite old lady gave the girls across their food, she went to their side and filled one plate with a small stake and a few little potatoes and put it in Hobi's awaiting hands. He stared at it in disdain. "That's all we got" Rattled the old lady. "But we are two" He pointed with his head to y/n's small quivering body on the bed. "All cages are getting one portion to share, we are short on foundings. Be thankful we give you food" The lady said meanencely.

Y/N couldn't take it anymore. The death of her family, being captured, being deprived of freedom and now of food, made her stand up from the bed, walk rapidly to the glass and smash her fist in it, not breaking it one bit. "You pieces of shit! You lock us up in here and don't even have the amount of money to feed us! I don't see it lacking when you have to stick a needle up our…" Hobi quickly put down the plate and put a hand on her mouth. The old lady did not seem amused, as if this happened every day. She took a hold of her stroller with food and kept strolling away to the next cage. "You have to behave" Said Hobi. She pushed his hand away from her face. Her eyes looking through the hall once again and to her surprise, there were the cupid like nose werewolf used to be, now a dumpling like cheeks boy stared at her with amusement in his eyes, as if her shouting was the best entertainment he had in a while. Behind him an arm reached and fed him a little bit of meat, making him smile and part his eyes from hers. The arm was owned by the cupid-like nose boy, who ate the rest of the meat in the plate, leaving it cleaned on the little table on the door's hole.

"Come eat, you need it. I'm strong enough, I can wait for tomorrow. You have to gain your strength back after probably all you've been through." Hobi sat on the floor staring at her, plate on the ground right in front of him. Slowly y/n went closer and sat across from him, Hobi smiled, what she thought was the brightest one she had ever seen. "Come on, come on, eat!" He pushed the plate closer to her. She grabbed a piece of the meat and broke it in half. "Not if you don't have a little bit of it as well. We can have two potatoes each '' Hobi seemed released and nodded enthusiastically.

After eating, time seemed to slow down and left them staring at the walls, waiting for something to happen, passing time. While Hobi entertained himself singing softly and moving his hands to the beat, y/n bit her nails, their surroundings becoming red and puffy. Her leg moved up and down in anxiety, her eyes focused on the cage across, her only way of entertainment. As her thoughts wandered back to her family and her longing of freedom, she began thinking about all the work she will have to do to get out of there. Would it be possible? Will she be able to leave hobi behind? She knew him for half a day, but he seemed like a good dude, and she had no one else, they could help each other. Y/N”s thoughts were disrupted by the sound of the room”s door opening.

“Come on girl, you have to come with us” Said a tall man, two other guys behind him.

Y/N whimpered, her body closing open itself on the bed. “It's okay, y/n, they are probably gonna do the check up” Hobi informed her, a soft smile on his face. He looked up to the three guys as if looking for confirmation, they didn't say anything. She nodded and stood up and went toward the door. The guards put handcuffs on her and closed the door, leaving Hobi behind, who sent her a last smile before they took her away. The hall seemed endless, the cages holding distressed werewolves inside, but before she knew it they were turning in a corner, showing a door leading to another section of the facility. These new corridors had windows showing the outside, trees surrounding the building, and as far as her sight went, it was all woods. Perfect for hiding after scaping, she was thankful this facility was not in the middle of the city.

After taking the elevator and listening to its sad loft music, they entered another section, the labs. It was a long white room, filled with werewolves girls and boys who were being checked by doctors. Some were poked, others were studying their reflexes, their eyes, others were being fed medication and so on. She was led by the three men to a bed in the middle of the room, two doctors already waiting for her beside it. “Oh, there you are” Said the woman who she recognised was the one who brought Hobi to her cage. “Sit down” She did as ordered, scared. One of the guards tooks the handcuffs off her and stood by her side, the other two helping take other werewolves to their respective cages. “You probably already know why you are here, so let's skip that part shall we?” The sweet stupid tone this woman used on her sent her on edge, her rage building up, but as much as she wanted to rip her neck off, she was too petrified to do so.

“May I know your name? Mine is Minji” She pointed to her chest. “He is Jaebong” Her head nodded to the male doctor beside her. Y/N swallowed. “Y/N” She said almost in a whisper. Jaebong scribbling it down on a piece of paper. “We will be your two head doctors” Continued Minji. ”We will be here for you during the gestation time until the birth. All our goals go to protect your health.”

Y/N”s head began spinning, not believing what she was hearing. Gestation? Birth? These people were crazy, out of their minds, sick and twisted. Her body began shaking, leaving out in the open her emotions. “Don't be scared” Now commented Jaebong, his voice deep and without modulation. “Countless females have gone through a pregnancy with us and have come out perfectly fine. But now, what you have to understand” He standed in front of her, his stare piercing through her head, her gaze set on the floor. “If neither you or your cage partner cooperate and do the thing on your own way, we will have to intervene, and I know how sacred is mating and child bearing for you animals, so enjoy the freedom we allow you.”

Pregnancies and mating were big deals for werewolves, all the love and trust that is embodied in one single act, enlarging the pack or starting a new one. Bringing a child for werewolves is as sacred as howling to the new moon. So the fact this people decided to take this sacred act for werewolves in their own hands, disgusted her, hitting way too close to home, where all this morals and culture were integrated into her, as all the werewolves in this building.

“Understood?” Asked Jaebong. She nodded her head. “Your cage partener already knows this, and he will be granted more liberties if he helps us, and he knows. So don't get scared when he does something you don't like” Laughed Minji.

Y/N was shaking through the whole check up, her mind somewhere else. She needed to go back to the cage, to that little safe place. She didn't believe Hobi could do something like that, right? He was too kind, she wanted to go back to him. She needed comfort and he would give it to her. Tears were already weling up in her eyes during the last moments with the doctors, who sended her away as fast as they could, having other werewolves to take care of.

As soon as the guard who escorted her to her room opened the door, she flew inside of it as fast as she could. The lights in the halls were lim as well as inside of the cages, night time approaching and nothing else to do, but sleep, sended everyone to bed. Hobi laid in his bed in fetus pose, holding his pillow close to him. She looked at him and let the tears come out. “Hobi” She mumbled standing in the middle of the room. Sensing no response, she went closer and put a hand on the boy's shoulder. “Hobi” He startled awake. “It's okay, it's me”. He opened one of his eyes and looked at her. “Took you long enough” He stared at her once again, worry in his eyes. “Are you crying?” She nodded and sniffled. “Do you want me to hold you?” She fell beside him in no second, Hobi draping the duvet over her quivering body. “They had the talk with you, mhm?” He looked her in the eyes. “Yes, I'm scared” He caressed her hair. “I will try to get us out of here before we or them can do anything about it” y/n eyes shoot open. “You can do that?” “I have been here for way too long, it's time to leave, and I'm getting you out of here with me” Her lips trembled. “How?”

“I know two boys who know the facility like the back of their hand. We will leave with them” He paused. “It will take a while for that to happen though. One of them is badly hurt, we will have to wait for him. You will like them! They are really sweet” y/n had already closed her eyes, Hobi”s sweet promises lulling her to a much needed sleep. “Rest now, we will have each other to rely on tomorrow as well.”

Chapter 2

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iwriteforthetincanman · 4 years ago

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Mandoctober Day 10: Ad’ika

A/N: Just a foreword this is a female!reader x Din and that’s mainly because she is pregnant in this. If anyone wants a reader with a specific sexuality or gender please let me know in my ask box! I am a writer and that means I like to be inclusive to everyone (but please nothing NSFW)

This is for @leo-moon ‘s Mandoctober!!

‘It could happen any day now’.

That’s what the healers kept on saying anyway. You felt like a balloon, ready to pop. Being pregnant was no easy feat and you hoped that no woman ever in their life had mentioned that it was. Although the pregnancy itself had gone smoothly, the aches and pains were constant. There was only one thing that had kept you sane throughout it all…

Well, one person.

Din Djarin, your Riduur and the father of your child.

Ever since you had married the thought of having your own children one day loomed over you. As soon as you got the positive results back you couldn’t help feeling that it had happened too soon, even if it had been six whole years since the wedding.

Raising Ad’ika had helped with the fears you felt, quelling them for the time being. Yet as the months wore on and your baby bump grew, you found yourself unable to carry and cuddle the little womp rat as often as you used to.

Now, he didn’t like that. The change had felt sudden and abrupt to the little child as he started to catch onto what was happening. He had seen it happen before, long ago when he grew around people that looked just like him. His buir was about to have another baby!

Usually children expect to be loved and doted on by their parents unconditionally. So when Din refused his every whim on account of you, whenever you needed something or it was the baby kicking, the Mandalorian would immediately put the child down to tend to you. Jealousy was common for him now. It was what caused him to act up.

First it was the crayon on the walls of your home, depicting somewhat violent images in comparison to the wonderful, kind hearted ones he used to make.

Then it was the tantrum he had amongst his toys as he was asked to put them away. You had stepped on one and with your swollen feet, it had hurt more than usual. Din was not impressed.

And lastly, the way he glared at your pregnant belly over the kitchen table at dinner time.

But it was when you spotted this that you realised what all the fuss was about.

“I think Ad’ika thinks he’s being replaced.” you mumbled one night, Din startled in front of you, interrupting his new nightly ritual of talking to the baby before sleep. Kissing the bump fondly, you smiled to yourself before he responded.

“What on earth makes you think that?” The clueless look on his face made you want to simultaneously hit him over the head and hug him.

“Um...the way he’s been acting lately? Plus he keeps glaring at my bump like it stole a frog off of him.” Although it sounded like a joke, Din realised how serious you were just by the look on your face.

“Maybe I should talk to him. Just him and me.” The thought of Din excluding you from this chat with your son hurt you, although you knew that if you got involved the kid would most likely get upset. Maybe he just needed some time with his father?

---

Yeah, it wasn’t going to be that easy.

Turns out a fifty-eight year old baby can hold quite a grudge.

He might’ve been sitting in his cot with early morning light surrounding his entire nursery, but the sight of his back turned towards his father with a massive pout on his face was heartbreaking.

“Ad’ika. Please talk to me.” Din tried to bargain with the child. He wouldn’t budge, no matter what kind of bribery was involved. He was stubborn...like his dad. Although the little green womp rat didn’t have the ability to talk just yet, Din enjoyed the little conversations that had all the same.

“Just because you might be getting a new brother or sister in the next couple of days, doesn’t mean your mother and I won’t love you any less.” At this, his ear perked up slightly, as if he were listening intently. Still, he refused to face him.

“I know you’ve spent a long time being our only child, that’s mainly because it wasn’t safe for us to bring another one into our lives. Now we are surrounded by the home we all so desperately wanted. I want you to know that, if it weren’t for you Ad’ika, none of this would’ve happened...I wouldn’t have met the love of my life, I wouldn’t become a father all over again and...I wouldn’t have met you…” Even if Ad’ika refused to respond, that was all Din wanted him to hear.

Getting up to leave, Din felt a tug at his trouser leg. Glancing down, he found his dear child clinging to him, almost desperately. Sniffling, the kid met his father’s gaze only to reveal teary eyes and a forlorn expression. That was all Din needed to see to know that his son understood and all he really wanted was to spend time with his family.

---

That evening, you came up with the idea of having dinner outside for once. With the baby coming, you felt like this was one of the last moments you would have where it was just the three of you. The family you had come across and been accepted into. Just the thought of everything that had happened for this shred of happiness to take place brought a tear to your eye...or maybe it was just the crazy hormones.

“Are you alright cyare?” Din’s hand rubbed the perfect spot on your back, one that had been aching for hours on end.

“Everything’s perfect my love.” Whispering this into his cheek, you placed a sweet kiss there before turning to your son.

“You’ll be a big brother soon Ad’ika. Promise me, that you will always look out for them, no matter what.” At this, those big big eyes peered up at you, moments before he had become truly fascinated with your baby bump as he rested on top of it. His ear pressed flat against your tummy as if he was trying to listen to the baby. Letting out a babble in confirmation, you smiled down at him.

“I love you both so much.” Murmuring to your husband and son, you watched as he hopped down from your lap. Scouring the ground for something to occupy his time.

“He seems like he’s gone back to normal.” Din chuckled as he pecked the corner of your lips. Turning to your lover, your eyes flicked over his features before settling on his eyes. Those eyes were the first thing yours looked into as he removed the helmet, it was as if you had fallen in love with him all over again.

Leaning in, you both settled into a passionate kiss. Humming in delight, you realised it had gone eerily quiet.

Pulling away, you opened your eyes to meet a funny sight.

“Ad’ika! The frogs are not for eating!”

Well...not entirely normal.

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agent-ccarter · 4 years ago

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even if it's a lie | Sirius Black

Summary: The Marauders have left Hogwarts, and the impending threat of the Dark Lord looms over them all. (2nd in series )

Warnings: Angst!!!, Swearing maybe, blaspheming, cigarettes.

Pairing: (I tried to make it a gender neutral reader!!) Y/N x MaraudersEra Girls, Y/N x Sirius

same room | even if its a lie | please, let me get what I want

*****

I know you don't love me so But please say it once before I go

I know that you can feel me Tell me that you don't love me But say it one more time

*****

Smoking was a habit you'd never entertained much before, mainly using it to remove awkwardness in social situations, but you found yourself relying more on the now, going as far as always carrying a pack on you. You knew it was bad, but quickly the steps outside of the block of apartments had quickly become littered with butts as a result of so many of you taking up the habit. The ground beneath you was cold, but not enough to stop you sitting down whilst you waited.

The click of the door was no surprise as Sirius made sure he was ready early for every meeting, however the sight of only you came as shock.

“Just us?”

“The others were called in to the Ministry early, don't know why. Figured i’d wait.” You flashed the packet of cigarettes towards him, and he slipped one between his lips gratefully. He puffed as if it was an inhaler, before passing a newspaper to you.

“Whats this?” He merely nodded at the paper in response, and you unfolded it to see what he was talking about.

Plastered across the front was a picture of Walhburga Black, looking as distraught as she possibly could without crying, with the headline “Tragedy for the Black Family.” You glanced at Sirius who had continued walking slowly even though you'd stopped. You continued to read: “Walhburga Black has had to deal with tragedy once again this year as the death of her son, Regulus, comes mere months after the death of her husband. The absence of her son, Sirius, means that-”. You stopped reading there, scrunching the pages and dropping it in your bag.

By now, Sirius had finished with his cigarette and he had squished it underneath his boot. The rest of the walk was silent; there was nothing either of you could say to make the other feel better. Only the shared deep breath before you entered the meeting showed each of you that the other was ready.

Lily was the first to greet you, standing from the long table. She tried to disguise her hug as just an overly friendly meeting, but the look she gave you when she pulled bag was obviously to elicit some kind of response.

“Hows my nephew?” You asked, ignoring her and prodding at her bump instead.

“Energetic to say the least!” You giggled, almost asking her what she’d expect from the son of James Potter, but when you looked for him you could see him comforting Sirius in a way you couldn't. He hugged him, hand pressed in the nest of hair and Sirius’ head rested in the crook of his shoulder. A hug of brothers, true brothers, James the only person who knew Sirius like they'd shared a womb.

Lily desperately wanted to ask how the walk had been, but the look of sadness on your face simply made her hug you once more. She whispered in your ear, “How did it happen?”

“They found him in the water,” you nodded your head for the next part, “ripped to shreds apparently, barely recognisable.

“Jesus,” Lily sighed. She shared one more look of sympathy before moving towards the table. You grabbed a glass of water, raising it gratefully to your chapped lips and drinking it one.

“Lets get started, shall we?” Sirius addressed the room, which was unusually sombre especially as his voice almost croaked. He cleared his throat before continuing, “The last attack in occurred just outside of London, but luckily we were ready. Only one injured, no deaths, and now we just need..” Sirius trailed off in a spiel usually performed by James, a recap of Order activity since the last meeting. He moved his hands everywhere to try and hide the slight shake, ruffling his hair or leaving them in his pockets. James and Remus sent him comforting glances, but when he’d finished he sat down as if he was about to faint.

“Y/N, I need you to keep an eye out near Grimmauld Place, okay?” James asked, sending another comforting glance, except it was to you this time. “There has been a lot of Deatheater activity around there recently, for, obvious reasons.” He trailed off, and continued to hand out assignments before anyone could dwell on what he'd said.

The meeting was over quickly, and you were about to leave when you heard a “Y/N, wait!” from Sirius. “Ill walk back with you.” You nodded in response, waving goodbye to everyone else.

The walk to Grimmauld Place (neither of you had to tell the other where you'd be going as you knew eachother far too well) was another silent one, except for the quick exchange when Sirius ran into an off license to top up his cigarettes and grab a bottle of cheap alchohol.

Thankfully, the area around the row of houses was sheltered with trees, and the somewhat busy streets largely drowned out your minimal conversations. You set up camp on a bench, sharing the vodka between you. You took a big gulp just after you watched your mother leave the Black residence, escorted by your brother.

“Fucks sake,” you huffed, earning a concerned look from Sirius, “they're cowards, sneaking around in the dark to hide how shitty they are.” “To fucked up families,” Sirius poured some liquid in the bottle cap, passing you the bottle and hitting them together in a cheers.

“To fucked up families,” you agreed, letting the alcohol burn your throat once more. You wanted to say something more, about how you've both chosen yours instead of relying on blood, and you were sure that Sirius had the same idea as he stared so intently at you that you could the reflection of the street lights flashing perfectly against his eyes.

He looked perfect. God did he look perfect.

“I’m sorry, you know,” you coughed, liquid courage twisting in your throat, “for how it all ended. I love you.”

He sighed, as if he was simultaneously waiting for those words to leave your lips and hating the fact that they did.

“Please, don't,” he muttered, both of you now more aware of his hand resting on yours. You tried to pull yours away, embarrassed at him shooting down your confession, but he entangled his fingers with your instead.

“We've got too much to lose. Ive already lost everything, I can't lose all of you too,” he sighed once more, and you were sure you could see a slight gloss more evident in his eyes, “I can't lose you. I couldn't stand it.”

You understood. Neither of you had anywhere else to go, anyone you were blood related to go running to when it all went to shit. No loving parent to hold you while you cry, no sibling to torment. The compromise of friend you could manage; pushing down the feelings was ok if it meant you'd have at least some family left. Someone to run to when you needed it.

But you were sat so close that vodka from both of your breath’s mixed between your lips, and you lent in further to close the gap. Sure, you'd just agreed to stop, but it was clear he was leaning on to.

Unfortunately, the bang of a door echoed around the road, and the pair of you snapped away to see his mother stood outside of the large house, dwarfed by the huge house, and crying. Crying? This was the only time you could ever feel any sympathy for such a spiteful, cruel woman, though Sirius certainly didn't feel any at all. He stood up so quickly that you were sure Walhburga could hear his boots as he quickly walked home.

*****

i'm going darling, I'll step lightly Live on as if you still love me Just say it one more time Even if it's a lie, even if it's a lie

*****

#sirius black #Sirius Black x reader #sirius black imagine #Sirius Black headcannon #marauders #marauders imagine #marauders x y/n #voldemort #Harry Potter #Harry Potter imagine #remus lupin #James potter #marauders era

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dalamjisung · 4 years ago

Text

picture it ❊ kim taehyung

word count: 4905

genre: fluff

pairing: reader x kim taehyung

description: he could practically picture your future together... and you could write it.

You write about him everyday.

Not in a creepy way, though, but in a very separated, utopian way. Idealized, if you must. The problem isn’t you, and you are sure it also isn’t him, but the conditions– the situation. Every morning, before class, and surely before work, you head to the same small coffee shop, where your best friend works and where you have an honorary table, right in the left corner, next to the big window; this way you can both do your work and get distracted as people run by you without even noticing.

You think it is about four months after your friend started that he began showing up, first as a client, then as a barista. His ascend to fame followed quickly after; the cute guy that made the disastrous latter art. You think that’s what started this thing of yours– the writing; the moment he gave you your latte, boxy smile in place, and something that resembled a dying cat on top of your coffee. You chuckle, captivated by the pride shinning in his eyes. You write about that moment, later.

“First coffee that I didn’t spill,” He says, looking a bit embarrassed still.

“Congratulations,” You tell him, and it’s sincere. He should be proud of his work, even though you are now rethinking if it ever was a dying cat or if it’s just a very deformed smiley face.

You sit on your usual table and pull out your books, ready to start studying for the upcoming biology test. But then you hear it– a symphony of crashing ceramic and startled screams coming from the back. His laugh covers the noise as best as it can, but what’s done is done, and the very next day the boy is demoted back to his position as a mere customer.

He stands in front of you, ordering his coffee, while struggling to hold all of his materials– paint, camera, computer. The heavy objects weight him down enough that he can’t really move a finger to reach for his waller, or else everything would come crashing down, much like the day before.

“Just… just a s-second,” He says grunting with tired arms. “I can’t–“

“I’ll pay for him,” You smile at your friend, giving her your card. “And my usual, please.”

“Gotcha,” She winks and quickly moves, getting better and better at her job by the day.

“Thank you,” He sighs, now using a knee to help with the wright of his things, but struggling with balance. “I just… argh!”

His camera slips and you catch it just as it is about to shatter on the floor.

“Why don’t you go and put your things down on a table?” You say, laughing a bit. “I’ll take your coffee to you.”

“Uh… about that,” He smiles again, that same boxy smile as before. “There are no tables available.”

You look around, only now noticing how full the place is. “My table is right there,” You point to your backpack. “We can share, if that’s okay with you.”

“Thanks, Y/N!” He exclaims, and you are surprised that he knows your name. “Thanks a lot!”

When you take the beverages to the table, you’ve had enough time to build up courage. “So… how’d you know my name?”

“Your friend,” He points to the counter, without raising his eyes from his computer. “Talks about you all the time. Pointed you out to me once and told me exactly how you like your coffee.”

“Ah, I see,” You nod. “And what is your name, then?”

“Ah! Sorry,” He scratches his head. “My name is Kim Taehyung. I’m in the Visual Arts department.”

“That’s why I’ve never seen you around before,” You say. “I’m in the Biology department.”

“Biology?” He frowns. “I thought you were in the Literature department… you are always writing something on your computer, or reading a new book.”

You raise your brows.

“And how would you know that?”

“I notice you,” He says with not even an ounce of shame. “You come here everyday. So do I. It’s only natural.”

“Of course,” You chuckle, opening your book. “Only natural.”

——————————

After that small interaction, given that you two didn’t talk for the rest of the day while sharing a table, it is almost like Taehyung is suddenly everywhere. So of course, it is only nature, following his train of thought, that you’d start noticing him, too.

In the bowling alley, giving people their shoes, and then a month later with his friends renting a lane.

Then the bistro nearby campus, busting tables, and then a couple of weeks later on a date with a girl.

The bookstore close to your dorm is the place place you see him working, and you think it lasts a few months, since the opportunities for weird and extreme incidents are minimum. You first find out when you have to get a new textbook for your anatomy class, and as always, the professor put some on reserve, at the bookstore.

“You again.”

You look at him, behind the counter with his black rimmed glasses and boxy smile. His hair is longer now, even darker, and the ends that meet his cheeks and neck curve upwards. You don’t even try to deny his attractiveness, but there is something about Kim Taehyung that intrigues you more than draws you to him– maybe the clumsiness, or the boxy smile, or even the alienated personality; you are not sure, but you are willing to find out.

“Me again,” You smile wide. “You work here now?”

“Yeah,” He chuckles. “After getting fired from the coffee shop, the bowling alley, and the bistro, this was pretty much the only place that would take me in. All I have to do is stand behind the counter and put the money in the register… easy enough.”

“Well, can you also help me find a book I need for class?”

“Sure,” He nods. “Biology, right?”

“Ah, you remember,” You tease.

“Hard to forget when you are everywhere,” He rolls his eyes. “Human Anatomy?”

“Yes,” You look at his computer screen, making sure it is the right one. “That one.”

“Be right back.”

Taehyung disappears in the back and you hear a few thumps here and there, and maybe even a pained moan, but you let it slide. It is better to have books falling on him than sharp shreds of glass, you think, but why do you care?

“Here you go, Y/N,” He sighs, hair messy and, surprisingly, no smile. “That’ll be $67– $67?! Holy shit! That’s so expensive! Wah… no fucking way!”

And there he is… Kim Taehyung in the flesh.

“Unfortunately textbooks are always around that price,” You groan, pulling your debit card out of your wallet. “Here you go. Take my money.”

“Now I feel bad about this…” He pouts, but charges you nonetheless. “They told me to always thanks the costumer after a sale, but wow, I don’t think I can thank you for this… I feel like I just personally bankrupted you.”

“Nah, don’t worry,” You wink, grabbing your stuff. “This textbook just means that I’ll have to cut down on the coffee for a week or so. I’ll be okay.”

Just as you are turning around to leave, he calls you back.

“Or!” He shouts, and instantly blushes as your wide eyes meet his. “Or… or, you know, I could… I c-could buy you coffee. If that’s okay with you. And you want it. Coffee, I mean.”

“Coffee,” You echo, holding in your laughter. “Sure. I’d love coffee.”

“Awesome!” Boxy smile is back. “Tomorrow, then? Let’s say around 10AM?”

“Perfect,” You wave. “See you then, Taehyung.”

“Call me Tae!”

With that, you go home happy and giggly. You were getting coffee tomorrow, and you’re writing today.

——————————

“This is not charity, Miss,” He teases, before giving the drink over to you. Looming the cup in front of you, close enough that you could smell it, he continues. “I want a favor, actually.”

“And here I thought this was out of your pure and innocent heart,” You sigh, joking along with him. “Do tell, Mister, what could a humble peasant like me offer you?”

Trying to hide his smile, Taehyung sips his drink, eyes locked on yours, and you have to cross your legs, a but uncomfortable with how quickly your body reacted under his hungry eyes.

“In case you haven’t figured out yet,” Tae says and leans forward, holding his face with his elbows on his knees. “I’m a photographer. And every photographer needs a… muse. I want you to be mine.”

Choking slightly on your drink, you look at him, alarmed. “Muse? You want me as a model?”

“Please, Y/N,” Every single ounce of his sexy, mysterious façade is gone and he pouts, lips jutting forward in the cutest way possible. Makes you want to kiss them. “I desperately need a model for my portfolio, and I’m running out of time. I don’t have the money to hire a professional model, even though I tried to get it with the jobs and all, but… it’s impossible; I’m useless and got fired from all of them.”

You notice a bit of anger in his voice and tension on his shoulders and you can’t help but wonder what this happy, giddy boy hides behind laughter and playful remarks.

“Okay,” You nod, breathless with impulsivity. “Okay. I’ll do it. I’m sorry if I suck, though, but I’ll do my best to help.”

“Really?!” He smiles to wide that you just have to smile, too. “Oh my god, thank you so much, Y/N! You won’t regret it! Coffee on me, anytime you want it during a photoshoot, okay? Anytime!”

“Sounds perfect,” You say and point at his phone. “Would you mind if I gave you my number? I think that would be the easiest way for us to schedule everything.”

“Oh, y-yeah,” He also grabs your phone. “G-good idea.”

It is settled, then. You would model for Taehyung, and he would repay you with coffee, even though later you tried to make him give up on that idea, uncomfortable to have him paying for your coffee when you can do it yourself.

“No way,” He shakes his head and as fluffy as his hair is, it doesn’t distract you from what’s important at the moment. “I’d feel terrible having you do it for free, so the least I can do it feed your caffeine addiction.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” You deadpan, stopping in front of your dorm. “Anyways, thanks for walking me back… It got pretty dark, are you sure you’ll be fine?”

“Yeah, I live just a couple of blocks from here,” He looks tired; eyes sunken, with dark circle underneath them. He still looks beautiful, though. “I’ll text you when I’m home.”

“Please do,” You wave. “Be safe!”

“Yes, mom!”

Going inside, you rethink your decision; maybe this isn’t right for you. Modeling? You have no experience, or comfort, for that matter, in front of a camera. Usually you are the one in the backstage of everything, hiding behind a computer and a username so that you can post your stories online. What if you suck at it? What if because of you his portfolio ends up incomplete and improper? Modeling is a career and you are just not fit for it… but it’s a deal. You’ll have to pull through, and you only have one shot at it– so you better give it your all.

You ignore your roommate in the kitchen, and run straight to your room, calling the only person you can think of to help you in this desperate situation.

“Mom,” You breath out, glad that she picked up. From the looks of it, she had just gotten home from work, her face still covered in professional makeup. “I need your help.”

“Hi, my love,” She smiles and you just love how different this smile looks from the ones you see in the magazines. “What’s up?”

You explain everything; from how you met Taehyung, to how you started talking, to how you ended up agreeing to be his model. Her happiness is visible, and you are sure she is extremely excited about you trying out her profession.

“Ah, I like this boy, already,” She jokes. “He sees just how beautiful you are; like a model!” “I’m not you mom,” You sigh. “I’m not an international supermodel that is natural and cheerful and good at modeling.”

“But I can teach you a few things so that the camera doesn’t scare you,” She explains. “It scares me, too, baby. It’s not that easy…”

“I know, I know,” Taking a deep breath, you focus. “Teach me what I need to know.”

For hours, you work with your mom on posing, and relaxing, and focusing. She tells you about different photo feelings, and different lightening, and how the right tilt of your head, or look in your eyes is enough to dictate the mood of the picture.

“It’s getting late, Y/N,” Your mom yawns. “You should rest. I’m sure you’ll do great when it’s time.”

“Thanks mom,” You smile, eyes dropping with tiredness. “I love you.”

“Love you, too, baby,” And then she hangs up.

I can do this. I can help him.

——————————

It is around a week later that he calls you, in the morning, on a Saturday.

“Hey!” You groan in response. “Are you ready?”

“For what?”

“Photoshoot!” He practically shouts in your ear. “Now! The sun is perfect and we’ll get an amazing natural light.”

“Tae, why didn’t you text me about this yesterday?!” You cry out, running to your closet in look of anything decent to wear. “I just woke up! I look like a zombie!”

“You look beautiful all the time,” He chuckles. “Now get dressed and come down; and don’t worry about hair and makeup, my friend will help us with that.”

You are not sure what he means with that but follows his instructions nonetheless. In five minutes, you are downstairs in sweatpants and ponytail, ready to face what you are sure will be your biggest challenge so far.

“Y/N!” Taehyung is excited when he spots you; waving frantically and smiling wide. “Right here!”

Next to him there are two guys.

“These are my friends,” He introduces. “Jin-hyung and Jimin-ah!”

You feel a bit intimidated now, staring next to three incredibly handsome men and literally looking like you just rolled out of bed.

“Nice to meet you,” You try out, smiling shyly. “I’m Y/N.”

“Wah,” Jin sighs, looking you up and down. “She really is just like you said, Taehyung-ah… beautiful. I am confident that I chose the right outfits for you.”

You blush.

“Ignore him,” Jimin rolls his eyes. “Hyung is a huge flirt. I’ll be in charge of makeup, by the way. I can run some ideas by you, if you’d like.”

You four talk all the way to the park, where Tae wanted to start the day– after some coffee, of course. You get dressed in the public bathroom nearby and your makeup is quick and natural. As Jin sets everything up and Jimin tries to find some flowers for your hair, you pull Taehyung aside.

“Why me?!” You whisper, panic in your eyes. “Tae, look at your friends! They were born models!”

“Them?” He frowns. “Yeah, they’re pretty. But you’re different.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ve observed you for months, Y/N,” He chuckles, cheeks getting redder by the second. “Trust me when I say you are exactly what I need.”

“Tae–“

“Let’s go!” Jimin shouts. “Everything is ready.”

It’s time. You take a deep breath, and close your eyes, thinking about all the tips and lessons your mom gave you for the past week; mood, pose, focus. You can do this. You have to do this.

“Let’s give it a try,” You sigh. “If I do anything wrong, let me know.”

Taehyung just winks at you, and the shoot starts. More than just guiding you, his voice starts to calm you done; the low baritone of his natural tone starting to sooth your insides, and not log after you notice you are actually having fun with them. They ask you to do ridiculous poses and you follow, laughing as you can’t keep your balance, or as Jin makes another dad joke. For a second, you forget that Taehyung is behind a camera, capturing your every move, and you think that he is right next to you; hand in yours, smiling and giggling with you. You break away from your daydream soon enough, trying to memorize it all to heart– you just have to write about this after. Actually, you are pretty sure you have, and all that happiness before seeps away as you recall your words. You can just picture it…

Big hands meet small ones, swallowing them, protecting them. There is more to the boy than his hands, but these are the only thing she can feel, the only thing she can touch– they scream for reality, proving something she’s been looking for for months… sanity. He grounds her, and she allows him to fly. Seems fair.

This was the last thing you wrote about him, and you wonder why; why did you start? Continue? Would it end? Would you one day stop?

What hurts the most is not knowing that one day he’ll simply be a fictional character in your portfolio; what hurts the most is knowing that everything you wrote feels true. As you got to know Taehyung, you’ve learned that your character Taehyung and the real Taehyung are incredibly similar… but you can only have one.

“Let’s take a break!”

Jimin is the first one to disappear, talking to himself about ice cream or something of the sort. Jin is next, when he spots a group of girls by the pond looking and giggling at him. Tae, however, stays; and walks to where you sit, playing with the hem of your long dress.

“What happened?”

“What do you mean?” You mumble, feeling tired and, now, discouraged. “Did I mess up?”

“No,” He chuckles. “You are doing great, and acting borderline professionally, but then you just… got sad.”

You freeze. “I don’t–”

“Do you know why I thought you were perfect for this project?” You shake your head. “You wear your emotions on your face, Y/N. It’s been like that since I first saw you… you looked calm and relaxed and I could practically feel it, too. You are an open book, to me, at least, and I can ready you so, so easily. I wasn’t looking for shallow beauty; I was looking for emotion. Raw. And you are it.”

“Taehyung,” You gasp. “That’s–“

“What happened?” He asks again, this time turning to face you. “Why are you sad?”

“I write about you.”

It comes out like a confession and you suddenly feel guilty.

“I am taking a creative writing class and it was right when you started working at the cafe,” You hide your face in your hands. “And I saw you and you looked so happy, and so unique, and something about you just seemed surreal. So I started using you as a physical model. But then I got to know you, and oh god, Taehyung, stop laughing!”

You are stunned by the choked sound you hear coming from him and when you notice him trying to hold his laughter in, you whine, hitting him in the shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” He raises his hands, openly laughing now, and trying to stop you from hitting him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but… I kind of knew.”

“What?” You shriek, distancing yourself away from him almost as if touching him burns your skin. “How?”

“Your friend told me,” He admits sheepishly. “I had to press her for it, though, so please don’t be angry at her…”

“Press her?”

“I noticed that every time you were writing you kept looking at me,” He shrugs, with his stupid smug smile on his face. “So I had a guess. She just confirmed it for me.”

“This is so embarrassing,” You whine, getting up. “I should probably go, if we’re done here, right? Right… are we done here?”

This time, he is the one that whines. “You promised I’d get to buy you coffee! Let’s go get coffee!”

“Taehyung,” You sigh. “I am mortified right now. I think I need–“

“Coffee,” He insists. “You just need coffee. What’s so wrong about writing about me, anyways? I felt pretty good, to be honest.”

“Yeah,” You deadpan. “I’m sure you did.”

——————————

“Thanks for coming with me.”

You look at the boy sitting in front of you and you frown a bit.

“Well, you did promise me coffee,” You joke, but something in his eyes tell you that there is more to what he means. “What’s up with you, now? Don’t act all smug about it, I know there is something bothering you.”

“How?”

“Eyes,” You point at your and the his. “Your look sad. You say I wear my emotions on my face, well, you wear yours on your eyes. ‘Fess up, kiddo. What’s going on?”

“My parents think I suck,” He groans, forehead hitting the table. “At photography, I mean. They are farmers and they don’t really understand why I would study something so risky. I understand their worries, but it sucks. I just needed their support, right now…”

“Why right now?”

“I’m on a scholarship,” He sighs, finally moving to look at you. “And my final portfolio will determine if the school will offer me the scholarship again next year or if it goes to someone else.”

You almost spit your coffee all over his pretty face.

“Taehyung!” You chastise him, frowning. “You should’ve hired a professional model!”

“I told you a tried!” He defends himself, throwing his head back in frustration. “Not that you didn’t do amazing today, by the way. You should totally start charging after this.”

“I don’t think I’ll follow this line of work,” You winced. “Too tiring. My mom is a model and she is always working late.”

“Who’s your mom?” He asks.

“Y/M/N Y/L/N,” You smile, proud. “I called her for tips on how to model. She was really happy I was doing this.”

“Ah, I see,” He chuckles. “You actually look a lot like her.”

“I do?” You are surprised, to say the least.

“Definitely,” He winks. “Beautiful, too.”

You roll your eyes, but that is not enough to hide the blush blooming in your cheeks.

“Focus on you,” You say, looking at his sigh. “Do you think you have a chance?”

“After what I saw today?” He breaths out, smile back. “Totally. There’s only one part missing, anyways. We got most of it today.”

“Which part?”

“Self-portrait,” He gulps. “And I have no fucking clue how I will do this.”

“What do you mean? That should be the easiest part!”

“No, it’s always the hardest for me,” His eyes are intense on yours. “I have too many people talking in my ear… Taehyung-ie this, Taehyung-ie that, such a smart boy, making such stupid choices. Ugh! I have no clue what to do because I think I have no real clue about who I think I am.”

Well, this took a turn. You aren’t expecting him to be so open, so real, but he is and you feel it– the butterflies in your stomach. You know you’re done for when he looks at you and you have to look away. Goddammit Y/N, you think. Why’d you have to start liking him now?

“Everyone that told me their opinions of me are incredibly biased,” He squints at you, almost as if he is deep in thought. “But you know who isn’t?”

You just shrug.

“You.”

“No.”

You know what he’s about to ask you. Or at least you have a hint, and you don’t think you’d ever be able to face him if you did.

“Y/N, please!” He whines. “I’m begging you! You wrote them before you got to know me, so I’m sure that will be the most honest opinion of myself I’ll ever get.”

“It’s called self-reflection, Tae,” You chuckle. “Not Y/N-reflection. You have to figure out for yourself, love.”

“But you can help me,” He whispers, and for a second everything stops; his eyes, so lost and desperate, find yours and nothing but him seems to exist. Here is this man– this beautiful man– asking for your help to find himself. “Please Y/N… help me.”

You let your head fall on the table with a soft thud.

“When you put it like that it makes it hard to say no,” You mumble.

“That’s the point,” He laughs, and when you raise your head he’s already walking to the door. “Let’s go to your dorm.”

——————————

You pace around nervously, bitting your finger nails as Taehyung is sitting on your bed, laptop in his lap. It takes him a long time– or at least you think it does,– but when he’s finished, he has a glint in his eyes, something that looks like… is he crying?

“Tae…” You call softly. “Are you okay?”

“I just,” He sighs, rubbing his eyes and chuckling to himself. “I just never heard things like these being said about me.”

“Tae, I didn’t know you back then,” You try to explain, afraid to have hurt the sensible man. “Right now, I think you are so much more.”

“More?” He asks, and now you know what shines in his eyes. “I can be more?”

Hope.

“You can be so much more, Kim Taehyung,” You move to sit next to him, legs touching and shoulders bumping. “You can be anything you want.”

“Y/N,” He whispers, and his voice sounds strangled, contained, somehow. “Y/N, thank you.”

“For what?” His hand finds yours and you hold your breath as it swallows yours. Your mind wonders to the words on your computer and you force yourself back to reality.

“For giving me space,” His fingers dance on your palm, caressing your skin as if it is the most precious thing he’s ever seen. “For giving me hope. I’ve never felt this free before, and it’s all because of you.”

“Taehyung,” You smile, pulling him by the hand to look at you. “You’ve always been free. You just needed a push to fly.”

Nodding, your heads start to get closer and closer. With his hand in yours, warm and firm, he pulls you to him, lips finding yours with an unexpected hunger; a need beyond imagination. Beyond words. When the kiss deepens, you two are a mess of emotions; your body lays down and his follow suit, covering you and weighting you down, and you loved it. You could feel his presence, now; this is different then writing about him, then picturing him– this is real. This is warm, and desperate, and hungry, and caring. This is love at its rawest form.

This is us.

As his lips descend to your neck, you smile. Fingers in his hair and neck pull him back to you, mouth hot on yours, and you two talk without words; you see without pictures. It’s something that only you two understand, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. Both of you are free.

Falling asleep comes easily after you two settle down, whispering secrets and wishes to each other, arms and legs tangled like vines. He tells you about his family and his grandmother, and how, one day, he wants to be a professional photographer, one that tells stories of feelings and emotions and places and people. In return, he learns about your passion for writing, and how unlike him, you gave into your parents pressure and decided to study biology instead, hoping to one day be a researcher.

“It’s a form of writing,” You shrug, scooting closer to him, loving the sensation of his soft curls tickling your forehead. “And I kind of like it.”

“That’s what matters,” He kisses you again and that is the last thing you remember before falling asleep.

When you wake up, Tae is trying to balance his camera on top of your dresser, pointing at the bed.

“What on earth are you doing?” You laugh at his wide eyes and messy hair. He’s still wearing yesterdays clothes and so are you, remembering the comfort of his arms being too much to even change.

“I had an idea for my self-portrait assignment,” He smiles, boxy, true, loving. “And I want you in it.”

“Me?” You frown, confused.

He walks to you, calm and confident, and kneels down in from of you, body in between your legs, chin on your stomach. He takes a deep breath, kissing all the way up to your mouth, where he spends some time exploring, imploring.

“I’ve never felt more myself then when I’m with you, Y/N,” He pulls away. “This is the best self-portrait I can have– you and me. I can just picture it, us, two, three years from now, looking back at them, remembering the night we truly met each other…”

You just smile.

“Will you do it?” He asks, holding you r face in between his hands. “Will you help me?”

“Always.”

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

And with this fic, I officially open my multi-fandom blog to BTS fics! Wohoo! Taehyung is my favorite boxy smile, omg. I am so happy with this fic, though, and there is nothing like the accomplishment feeling that comes after finishing a story. As always, please let me know what you guys think :) Comments, likes, and reblogs fuel creators to keep going... I have also linked a Ko-Fi button on my page! Don’t feel obligated, but all donations are appreciated <3 Love you all!

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iwrestlenow · 3 years ago

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THE EMERALD: I’m Living In A Trance

TITLE: I’m Living In A Trance (part of THE EMERALD)

FANDOM: Sanders Sides

SUMMARY: In the safety of the Loom of Memory, Logan and Roman finally share an intimate moment.

Missing scene from Chapter 12 of Many More To Die.

SHIPS: Logince (Logan/Roman)

WARNINGS: makeouts, heavy petting (bit extreme but what the hey better safe than sorry?), sensory overload, and I suppose spoilers for MANY MORE TO DIE if you haven’t read that yet.

NOTES: So, this his how this fic happened...

Me: FEELSY LOGINCE SMUT! *writes teh smut*

Logan: Human contact is new to me.

Me: ...Logince...smut?...

Logan: *S I G H* Human contact is new to me, and I've been imprisoned for the last ten years.

Me: ...FINEEEEEEE.

So enjoy some canoodling and feels. :P Also, naming this series The Emerald because I named the original story for a lyric from the Thin Lizzy song "Emerald." XD

Located on AO3 here.

“...time moves differently here.”

Roman stared up at Logan, feeling every breath against his face like a caress—as real as the pain that tried to tear his mind to shreds, as real as the nagging hole he'd had in his chest for the last ten years, one shaped like Logan's face.

One shaped like Logan's mouth pressed too quickly to his, too quickly pressed to his cheek, innocent and warm, the childlike innocence of that first realization that Roman loved him, loved loved love—

Logan's mouth settled on Roman's, and the wellspring of tenderness washing through him morphed swiftly to burning, desperate, hungry need.

The noise Roman made, high and whining, was borderline embarrassing as he buried his fingers in Logan's thick black hair, glossy soft and glorious to touch. It made Logan groan into his mouth as he kissed Roman, pressed close, melted into him with that heavenly sound Roman would kill to hear over and over again.

Sitting up abruptly and forcing Logan back on his knees, Roman broke the kiss and tugged at Logan's tunic until he cooperated and pulled it over his head. Here, in this dream space, he was unchanged from the real world: underweight and pale, but with lean muscle stretched over limbs that were long for his size.

Captivated, Roman reached out to touch, to smooth his hands over those lean shoulders. His skin was surprisingly warm, and Logan shivered, eyes drifting closed under the onslaught of sensation.

“I've never...”

The words out of Logan's mouth startled Roman from his silent contemplation of Logan's painful, perfect beauty. Blinking, it took him a moment to realize what Logan meant—to be reminded that, beyond intimacy itself, Logan's experience with basic physical touch alone was almost nonexistent.

“I know.” he soothed, smoothing his hands back up the sides of Logan's neck to cradle his face. “If it's too much, tell me to stop and I will.”

Logan nodded, eyes still shut for a moment. When they opened, it was slow, almost sleepy—and oh, that did things to Roman.

“More.”

Roman claimed his mouth more slowly this time, a press of lips, and then another before he ran his tongue along the seam of Logan's mouth. His jaw went slack, allowing Roman to lick greedily into his mouth. He kept it slow, careful, gentle...

Then Logan dragged his teeth over Roman's lower lip as they parted, and Roman went just a little bit crazy as he switched their positions, pinning Logan on his back beneath the weight of Roman's body.

“Okay?” he asked, barely managing to stop himself from just descending on Logan like a starving man.

“No—yes--I'm not...I need...”

Roman relaxed, pressing Logan further into the bed rather than pulling away. Like when they were children and Logan was overwhelmed by just a hug or holding hands, he kept him there and held on, steady and sure, waiting.

Logan didn't bolt or squirm, just reached for Roman, fumbling and fidgeting until he wormed a hand under Roman's shirt to splay against his back with a sigh that was either relief or satisfaction. Maybe it was both.

Shifting up a little, Roman's weight came up as he tugged his tunic off over his head. The moment he was free of it, Logan's hands were on him, running over shoulders and arms, chest and stomach. It was perfectly chaste, just touching, but it took all Roman's strength to remain still underneath those sweet and curious caresses.

“You're so beautiful.” Logan breathed. Roman watched his face, enraptured, as he stared at one hand mapping the curve of Roman's clavicle with fingertips alone. “Handsome and strong and...and so kind, so clever, so brave a prince, a king--”

“A king you made of me, my Starlight.” Roman replied, leaning his forehead into Logan's. “I was so afraid to rule before I met you, and when I forgot...when I forgot what you made me want, I was afraid again. Now it's all I want.”

“To rule?” Logan asked, sliding his hands up to frame Roman's face. The sheer bliss of it, being able to touch Logan, to touch him and be touched like this overwhelmed him as he shut his eyes and twisted to press his lips to one of Logan's palms.

“To begin.” he whispered against Logan's skin, making a vow of it. “To start turning the wheels of progress that will see your people free.”

Something dark flickered across Logan's features then, making him shift a little under Roman, brow furrowing. A moth to his flame, Roman leaned in to press his lips there, to smooth that ridge of worry away.

“You know that's not why I love you. It's never been why I love you...you know I would never--”

“I know you were never using me, Starlight.” Roman laughed softly, nose brushing along Logan's hairline. He shivered again, making Roman flat out grin. “That requires a level of subterfuge I don't think you're capable of.”

Logan huffed, even as Roman pressed his lips to his temple and Logan turned his head to give him more room. “If you are saying I am incapable of deceit or falsehood, you are gravely mistaken.”

“Oh, I have no doubt you can lie, and lie well.” Roman murmured, running a hand down Logan's bare side to make him shiver again. This time, it came with a soft, breathy sound that made his gut clench with desire.

“You simply cannot lie to me.”

“Falsehood.” Logan protested, arching a little as Roman kissed his throat, then trailed a gentle path of kisses slowly down the middle of his chest.

“Oh? Then you're lying about how good this feels?” Roman asked innocently before he tasted Logan's skin with a broad sweep of his tongue.

Instead of answering, Logan moaned then, low and broken, and the sound shot straight to Roman's cock. Drunk on the sound, on the taste of Logan, Roman pressed an openmouthed kiss to his sternum, tongue sweeping greedily over skin for more.

“Too much too much too much...”

Logan's voice was breathless, keening, but he didn't push Roman away. His hands moved restlessly over his shoulders, into his hair, clinging and clutching and borderline frenetic.

Roman slid up to settle his weight over Logan again. Those roaming, anxious hands found his shoulders, slid over his back, traced his ribcage. Features twisted with something unpleasant that made Roman's chest ache slowly relaxed until sleepy eyes blinked up at him again.

“I've got you, Starlight.” he soothed, reaching up to run his fingers through Logan's hair. “Breathe...just breathe, I've got you.”

Logan nodded, then just wrapped arms around Roman and dragged him down until he was fully covered by Roman's body, Roman's head tucked against the curve of Logan's neck so Roman's breath was puffing against his skin.

“Touching...touching helps.” Logan sighed. “Not so much...if I can touch you back.”

“I am yours to do with what you will, my love.” Roman assured him with a smile against his skin, sliding a hand between them to rest on Logan's chest, just over his heart. “Whether that be everything or nothing.”

Logan fell silent at that, save for clearing his throat. Several times.

“I do...want you.” Logan finally confessed. “I've...thought about it a lot. Over the years—before I remembered who you were.”

“The Green Man? Patton mentioned that.”

“Yes...the Green Man.”

“I've dreamed of you, too, Starlight, and I want you just as much. We'll go slow, figure it out. As you said, we have time here, right?”

Logan nodded, but the silence that followed felt heavy, pregnant with words unsaid—something Logan wasn't telling him.

Roman wanted to ask, to coax it out of him...but he felt good here, safe and warm and cherished.

The world was slipping away. Logan's arms, his skin, his scent were all sliding through his fingers.

They were right, Roman: my people can't be trusted. We're too easily corrupted, and I am no different. He will not take you away from me again.

It was the last thing Roman heard Logan say before he was shoved into oblivion.

#logince #fic #necromancer au #sanders sides #logan sanders #roman sanders #fic series: the emerald #missing scenes #my name is liz and i swear to god i will fic again #makeout fic #heavy petting #this is all the artist's fault i'm just the hapless writer that stumbled across it

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keelywolfe · 4 years ago

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FIC: Colors, ch.25: Iris

(A Spicyhoney ‘The Village’ AU)

The story so far:

8. Whiteout | 9. Sable | 10. Blue on Black | 11. Midnight | 12. Ebony Falling

23. Gray | 24. Vellum

~~*~~

Read ‘ Iris ’ on AO3

Read More Here!

~~*~~

Rus had no idea of the hour when he woke. He rolled over stiffly, his bones chilled and achy from sleeping curled up on the floor. It couldn’t yet be dawn, the only light from the walls came from along the lowest section, a dim, warming glow, like coals banked in a stove for the night.

He sank down, letting his head fall back on a cushion that was normally for sitting and while it certainly worked as fine a pillow for his coccyx, his skull was less enthused with purposing it for a night. He wondered dismally if Edge were still abed, curled up sleeping comfortably warm in the furs and blankets of their pallet. Rus thought it more likely Edge was just as restless as he was, tossing and turning and missing the comfort of holding a loving spouse in his arms.

With a little poor sleep and distance from their argument, Rus was starting to regret his impulse to stay the night in here. After thoughtlessly dredging up Edge’s memories of his lost family, it was passing cruel to deny him what little he did have. As much as Rus desperately missed his brother, he was at least alive and well, kept safe by his status as healer.

Rus looked up at the scattering of stars across the cave ceiling, painted so carefully he could hardly distinguish them from the ones in the sky. Edge was wrong about the village, and about Blue, but sulking alone wouldn’t solve that.

Decision made, Rus scrambled to his feet, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders against the chill as he followed the overhead path of stars to their bedroom. His bare feet scuffed against the floor rugs as he shuffled along. The cloak he’d tacked up while the Dogs stayed as guests was still hanging in the doorway and Rus drew it aside, slipping into the room to head for their pallet.

Only to gasp and stagger back, his shoulder banging painfully against the wall at the crimson eyed figure that abruptly loomed over him, their hands wreathed in flame. For a brief moment, fear overwhelmed his good sense and he nearly fled, a shriek blossoming in his throat.

Then logic reasserted himself and that scream became a gasp of, “edge?”

He watched his husband blink in the dimness, his eye lights winking in and out, then he hastily shook away whatever spell he was calling up, reaching out to take hold of Rus with hands that were still overly warm and yanking him into a tight embrace. The sound that escaped him was rough and anguished as he rattled out, “Sorry, so sorry, k’uhah, my soul, sorry—"

“hush,” Rus soothed, “i’m the one who’s sorry, i didn’t mean to startled you so.” He held Edge close, petting the smooth curve of his skull with gentle fingers. He was shaking a bit, Rus realized distantly, but it was nothing compared to Edge. His husband was trembling so fiercely Rus could hear the rattle of his bones muffled against the blanket between them

“Sorry,” Edge mumbled again. He rubbed his cheekbone against Rus’s collarbone up to his shoulder, absurdly reminding him of one of the stray cats that often roamed the village. “I was not myself. My dreams were troubled ones.”

Of course they would be, Rus thought, tears springing into his sockets. He’d had an abrupt and unpleasant reminder of the horrible loss of his family when he’d only been a child and then his husband abandoned him to deal with the haunting memory on his own.

No matter, he could deal with his own regrets later. For now, Edge needed him and with gentle tugs, Rus persuaded him towards the bed, leading in a strange sort of dance until they could sink into the furs together. Edge curled up tightly into Rus’s side as Rus soothed him with gentle touches, smoothing a hand down his spine, the other cupping his cheek bone in featherlight strokes until his shivering slowly subsided.

Perhaps he should have expected Edge’s hands to begin wandering on their own, but Rus was still bemused as his touches became less ones of soothing and turned to the urgently carnal. But he offered no protests as the clothing and blankets between them were tugged away, moaning his delight as Edge explored his most sensitive places with barely restrained need. If this was what his husband needed to chase the ghosts from the dark corners of his mind, Rus was eager to give it.

Those stroking fingers left off their fondling of his ribs and spine, gliding down to his pelvis and there his hand lingered, coaxing and shaping and Rus understood even before Edge nuzzled against the side of his skull, murmuring hoarsely, “Need you, be with me? Inside me?”

Even as burgeoning desire clouded over him, Rus managed to clear his thoughts, concentrating hard so that he might give Edge the shaft he’d wanted. It was easier than before, his need to care for his husband guiding his desire and he gasped as the shaft settled into place at his pelvis. Almost immediately a hand surrounded it, stroking him from tip to root and Rus was forced to grab Edge’s demanding hand, stilling him.

“wait,” Rus gasped out. “wait, i’ll spill too fast.” He tried to catch his breath, slow the roused pulse of his soul and his efforts were not at all helped by Edge’s hips grinding against his thigh, the wetness of his mound rubbing slick against his femur.

“Need you,” Edge moaned out, “k’uhah, Rus, need you!”

There was nothing for it. Rus pawed at Edge, pulling on him roughly until he settled astride him. Through the dimness, he watched as his husband sank down on his shaft, the twisting pleasure on his face a mirror to his own.

“oh!” Rus cried out, grappling at Edge’s hips. “oh, please! oh!” Tight slickness engulfed him, slick walls gripping as Edge rode him, chasing his pleasure as he muttered out words in his own tongue that were either too fast for Rus to grasp or simple nonsense. Rus could do nothing but endure, pinned by Edge’s weight and clinging to whatever shreds of control he still possessed to keep the folly of his sudden ecstasy at bay.

His end still came with shameful swiftness, straining against his husband’s weight as he ground down on him, taking Rus deeply into the glorious tightness of his body. Rus couldn’t think any longer, could only follow his own clumsy eagerness, blindly wanting, needing, and the cry that strangled out of him when he tipped over his peak was muffled into a choked groan into Edge’s mouth, the plunge of his tongue inside mimicking that of his shaft.

He sagged back, breathing harshly and mortified at leaving Edge wanting. Only Edge was shuddered over him, his hand working between his own legs, fingers grazing where they were still joined. Rus pulled him down into another kiss, urging him on, his moans broken with arousal. When Edge stiffened, sockets squeezing closed as he toppled into his own pleasure, Rus held him gently, hardly grunting at the suddenness of his weight sagging down atop him.

The burden was not for long. Edge managed to slide off to the side quickly enough, leaving a single leg slung over Rus’s, an arm draped over his ribcage, holding him close as pleasant quivers still trembled through them.

The restless night joined with the exhaustion of exertion and sleep was trying to claim Rus, pulling him into yet another embrace. He struggled against it, wishing to stay in Edge’s arms some longer and sleepily, Rus murmured, “I love you.”

“Love you,” Edge returned with equal tiredness. “Love you, Rus. K’uhah

They were a mess, shared fluids drying on their bones in uncomfortable places and Rus did not care. He held his husband close and when he did finally give in to sleep’s persistent claim, it was without dreams to haunt him.

~~*~~

When next he woke, Rus noted with bleary confusion that he was alone. That wasn’t entirely uncommon, Edge often let him sleep while he went out to check the traps, but after last night, it was particularly disappointing. He’d rather hoped to wake in Edge’s arms and surely after a row of the sort they’d had, that was the best-chosen path or at least that was what he gleaned from watching Blue and Azzy’s spats and their layabout ways the day after.

He supposed he could hardly blame Edge for being unfamiliar with that sort of mutual contrition.

There was hardly time to feel the pinch of unhappiness when the curtain over the door was pulled aside and Edge ducked beneath it, bare as the day he was born and holding two steaming cups.

Ah. Well, it seemed Edge wasn’t as eager to get to his traps as Rus assumed and a hot flushed crawled up his face, burning high in his cheekbones as he tried not to look at the faint honey-orange stains that still decorated the insides of Edge’s femurs.

His husband was utterly without shame and the thought was a fond one, swelling along with the love in Rus’s soul. So unlike anyone in the village, unlike Rus himself, and that was a less appealing reminder of all he’d recently learned. It was still so difficult to reconcile his new knowledge about the village Elders, the uncertain loss of everything he’d been taught since childhood filled him with a strange grief.

Every prayer meeting he’d attended, every rote recitation from the pages of the Book of Prayers were a deception whether or not those that taught him knew it.

The loss was one he’d simply have to learn to deal with and a renewed determination to meet with his brother, to share the truths he’d learned, surged in him, filling that void of left by grief.

Rus reached automatically for one of the cups Edge held, absently anticipating the bland, thin taste of slippery elm tea. Only to blink in confusion as it was held out of his reach. Realization came with the rueful smile Edge offered him before he drank it himself and Rus didn’t need either of their languages to interpret it. This time it was his husband’s turn for due diligence against creating a child and Rus returned that smile with a sheepish grin of his own even as he recalled the toe-curling memory. He chose the other cup and nearly choked, swallowing down an unexpected mouthful of slippery elm.

What in the name of the Angel…the way Edge’s smile slowly widened into a more predatory one revealed that it was not at all the will of the Angel on his husband’s mind. Hastily, Rus tossed back the contents of the cup, swallowing it down with a grimace, barely in time for it to be snatched away as he was tumbled back into the blankets.

His laughter briefly echoed around the room quickly replaced with moans.

This, he decided hazily, was the best way to make a proper apology and as Edge slid down between his legs, Rus arched into his touch, eager to join him on the path to forgiveness.

~~*~~

Time was difficult to discern without windows, but the sun was high in the sky when Edge finally left their cave. Rus stood by the entryway, still buried into the depths of a blanket and the chill of the floor had him hopping from foot to foot, hissing unhappily as he offered a last kiss to Edge before he left.

He stayed only long enough to see his husband off before darting back inside and soon enough the inner warmth was enough for him to shed his blanket. He folded it with a sigh, heading back to set it within the parlor room. They might be off to a late start for the day, but there was still cleaning to be done and dinner to consider.

When he stepped into the parlor, Rus paused, catching sight of the journal still on the table. The locket from Edge’s medicine bag was sitting next to it and Rus picked it up, running his fingers over the delicate shape as he thought of the woman whose portrait it contained.

Selfishly, he wondered if Edge’s mother would have liked him if they’d had the chance to meet. He hoped so.

It was such an awful that her story was unknown in the village, Rus thought unhappily. That all the suffering she’d enduring and the sacrifices she’d made to discover the truth were concealed only in the mind of her son and now in Rus’s, her words crying out from the very pages for vengeance, both for herself and their people.

A misbegotten injustice, that was it, the forced degradation of their people by the Humans who greedily took and took, stealing any magic they found useful and doing the same to their bodies, like Elder Smith did time and again, and Rus only realized he was clutching the pendant tightly in his fist when the pain of it cutting into his bones registered. He forced his hand to unclench and gently set the locket down on the journal, smoothing the broken chain along the cover. The others in the village needed to know all of this, his brother, Dogamy and his kin, it simply must be, if only there was a way—

Rus straightened abruptly, dawning awareness striking him.

There was a way, he realized. He had the map Edge gave him and the compass from his pack. The village couldn’t be more than a day’s travel away or Edge wouldn’t have suggested he visit the cave. If he left early when Edge went to check his traps, he could be back by sunset, a reverse of his earlier trips to the woods to visit Edge. He could travel to Dogamy’s farm and surely they would send for his brother, giving him enough time to reassure Blue that he was doing well and to give him the journal before he traveled back…right into his husband’s anger.

Edge would forgive him, Rus told himself fiercely. Their bond was deeper than one of the mere spoken words of marriage, they were bound by their souls, and yes, it would be difficult, yes, Edge might well be furious for some time. But Rus could endure it, do whatever he needed to earn his husband, no, his k’uhah’s forgiveness.

In truth, it was no longer simply his own wish to see his brother at stake and a strange urgency was rising within him, demanding that he go as soon as possible.

He needed to do this.

Hastily, Rus snatched up the journal and locket both, carrying them back to the bedroom. He hid them in the small alcove that wardrobe, beneath the stack of his trousers. He wouldn’t lie if Edge asked after them, but if he saw them lying about, Edge might move them to a place Rus couldn’t find. With them hidden, perhaps he would forget for a time, long enough for Rus to sneak away with them.

That done, Rus hurried off to the kitchen, his soul throbbing agitatedly in his rib cage. Plans needed to be made yet, but for now, it would be best to follow his normal routine.

He filled one of the crocks with water and set it on cooking stone, contemplating the contents of their pantry as he mentally sorted through the few recipes he’d learned. Perhaps he’d ask after some of Blue’s cookies, he told himself, both for a recipe and to bring some back to Edge; he’d enjoyed them very much the last time Rus brought them to the woods. A present might help smooth the rough path of forgiveness, even a tiny bit.

With that thought, Rus began humming a quiet song, choosing his ingredients with care. A good dinner, tonight, yes, that was what they needed, and perhaps they could read a bit from that saucy novel again or even indulge in a little more of their own sauciness tonight.

He didn’t allow himself to think of anything else.

Not yet.

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #village au

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meridiansdominoes · 5 years ago

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Brothers

OK I WAS IN AN ANGSTY MOOD AND I STARTED WROTE SOMETHING SHORT ABOUT JESSE AND MAUL SO HERE

I don't know if we'll find out why Maul let Jesse live in an upcoming episode, or if it'll turn out that it literally means nothing, but I kept seeing posts on tumblr about why Maul didn't just kill him and decided to write something

or I guess you could read it on ao3 too: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23902564

Warnings for mind-torture!

Maul tears through his mind like a rancor through flimsi, smashing aside Jesse’s weak protests with terrifying ease. His presence burns. Like someone’s set a white-hot coal on the top of his head and is just letting it burn its way down, deeper and deeper into his brain. It’s a bright, piercing agony that Jesse can’t get away from, no matter how much he struggles against the Mandalorian forcing his arms behind his back.

The Sith wrenches his mind wide open and starts picking away at Jesse’s memories. Jesse cries out, because every time Maul grabs at something, it sends a fresh lightning bolt of pain through his entire nervous system and leaves him shuddering, gasping for air and jerking to try and throw himself backwards, distance himself from torture. They don’t let him move.

His memories of Commander Tano, of the child she was and the warrior that she’s become, are laid out for the Zabrak to see. There is a moment where Jesse, in one last desperate attempt to protect her, rallies what remains of his fragile mind and grabs onto a memory at random, struggling to pull it away from Maul: Commander Tano, sparring fiercely against General Skywalker in the Resolute’s hanger as Torrent Company cheers and calls out commentary—Jesse shoves out mentally, teeth clenched so hard that his jaw hurts, and somehow manages to slow the Sith’s invading will. It doesn’t do much, but for an instant, Maul pauses.

“Be still,” he says softly—gently, like he’s trying to sooth Jesse into compliance. The tone sends a shiver down Jesse’s spine.

And then Maul’s mind slams into Jesse’s with the force of a falling meteorite, and Jesse howls as mental blades tear the rest of his willpower to shreds.

He loses track of things after that. Maul denies him any semblance of control, and it burns, it hurts and Jesse can’t get away.

He stops trying to fight, after a while. It doesn’t do any good, just makes the pain shift from glaring red to white-hot and he can’t stop little helpless whimpers from falling from his lips. If it goes on for hours or mere seconds he can’t say, because Maul takes his mind apart and pulls out what he needs, memory fragments sending shards of fire through Jesse’s brain as they’re misplaced and every sensation of time is lost.

It’s nothing short of violation. Jesse feels used, like everything that Maul touches in his mind is suddenly contaminated, covered in dark sludge that dull the light of fond memories.

He barely even notices when Maul stops because his head is throbbing, too full of pain and sharp edges for him to even see two feet in front of him. No one is holding him anymore—they don’t need to, he can’t even move. The trembles racing down his spine make him hurt enough as it is, he doesn’t dare rise from where he’s slumped on his knees.

His temples ache. He can’t even bring himself to react when a pistol is shoved up against his chin, only groans in agony, eyes rolling back in his head.

“Sir,” the Mandalorian says, waiting for the order to kill him, and Jesse knows he’s about to die. Know it with such certainty that it shuts him down, and he lets his weight sag, head bowing in resignation regardless of the gun underneath him.

He closes his eyes and tries to think of something better. Tries to think of Kix (gone, disappeared off the face of the galaxy and no one cares enough to search, no one knows where he is—), of Rex, of Vaughn, of Sterling, of his brothers, because he had wanted to go out surrounded by them instead of here, on his knees in front of a kriffing Sith with enemies all around him—

“Wait.”

Maul’s voice sends cold terror through Jesse’s body. He cracks his eyes open to peer at the red-black blur in front of him and moans when an invisible force approaches his mind again. Jesse pants desperately for air, panicking as it looms closer. He can’t. He won’t survive this again. He can’t he can’t it hurts—

“N-no, stop—!”

Jesse writhes, fingers scrabbling across the smooth metal beneath him, seeking purchase even though there’s none to be found. It does no good. Maul forces his way into Jesse’s mind again without resistance. Jesse goes limp, shivering helplessly on the floor and wishing for death. He can’t stop it, can’t fight. Maul’s presence still burns, but the sensation is a little more subdued this time.

What more could Maul possibly want? He already has Jesse’s memories of Commander Tano. There’s nothing more for him to take.

Maul’s presence gives off a vague sense of curiosity that makes Jesse let out a horrified groan. The Sith reaches for memories again. Jesse jerks as they flash in front of his eyes—

Umbara, drowning in horror as he stands to be executed and Kix points a rifle at him. 79’s, downing shots with the rest of Torrent, laughing too hard, surrounded by brothers and safety. Ringo Vinda, awful and numb as Tup guns down a Jedi. Saleucami, joking with Rex as they’re reunited after the Captain’s brief excursion. Umbara again, mind screaming in denial as Hardcase orders them to leave, dragging the explosives with him and Jesse knows that it’s a one-way trip and Hardcase is going to die—

Maul’s presence recoils slightly at the last one. A groan is torn from Jesse’s throat as Maul retracts, too fast too forceful Force it’s like someone’s pulling nails from his head. Jesse gets a brief flash of an image that he’s never seen before—of a Zabrak, not Maul, eyes flashing, tattoos gold where Maul’s are red and—what—?

Maul leaves him. Jesse is shaking. He curls himself up on the floor and tries to make himself as small as he can, fingers clutching helplessly at his skull in a futile attempt to protect it. He chokes for air, each breath dragging audibly against his lungs. The sound is painfully loud in the silence of the tunnel.

“Just kill me already,” he gasps, voice hoarse. “Just kill me. What else do you want?”

A hand settles at the back of his skull. Not for the purpose of comfort, just… there. Jesse freezes.

“Tragic,” Maul says softly. “So loyal, so fierce. And yet… the time fast approaches when it will be used against you.”

Jesse imagines twisting and sinking his teeth into the Sith’s hand. The idea is tempting, but he still hurts too much to try.

“I had brothers once,” Maul says. Jesse swallows, trying to decide if he’s imagining the fragile grief echoing through those words. Maul lets go of him, steps back. Jesse waits for a lightsaber to slash through him, for the Mandalorians to finally finish the job, but no one moves.

“Get him up. He will accompany me to the throne room,” Maul announces.

“Sir,” a Mandalorian acknowledges. Jesse pants through his teeth and struggles to stay conscious as they tug him to his knees again, too kriffing fast his head swims and his vision blurs. Kriff.

Later, when Jesse has collected his wits a little more, when he’s shoved to kneel next to an ornate throne, when there are binders tight around his wrists, he struggles to comprehend what he’d heard.

I had brothers once.

Commander Tano shows up, with Bo-Katan and Rex in tow. Jesse thinks that surely, now he’ll die. But Maul releases him. Jesse is broken, barely able to stand by himself, a painful drumbeat pounding through his head, and he half expects to get cut down before Rex can reach him—Rex, whose face goes terrifyingly blank when he sees Jesse, eyes dark like he’s already expecting Jesse to die and mentally preparing himself to lose someone else.

“There you go, back to your brothers,” Maul croons, and for an instant, Jesse gets it.

I had brothers once.

He stumbles into Rex’s arms and grunts out an apology to the Commander, who’s eyes narrow as she looks him over.

“Rex, get him out of here,” she orders, turning back to the Sith. Rex doesn’t need to be told twice. Jesse can feel the Captain’s hands trembling on his shoulders. They make their way through hallways in silence save Jesse’s labored breathing. Once they’re a good distance away, Rex guides Jesse to sit down, back against the wall, and runs his hands over Jesse’s body, checking him over for injuries. He won’t find anything but bruises. Jesse isn’t injured in the way they usually see.

“Force, Jesse,” Rex mutters shakily. “Kriffing—I thought—”

He doesn’t need to finish the sentence. Jesse knows what he would have thought. Jesse himself has thought it many times, and it normally doesn’t end like this. He offers Rex a weak grin.

“Takes more than a kriffing horn-head to get rid of me, sir,” he rasps, and Rex fakes an eye roll, pulling Jesse in for a hug. Jesse is one of the last surviving members of the original Torrent Company, and he can’t help but think that it would have destroyed Rex had Jesse died at Maul’s hand.

They’ve lost far too many brothers in this war. Jesse thinks of Maul again, shuffling through the memories of Jesse’s brothers curiously and then—

I had brothers once.

Jesse doesn’t know how to interpret that, exactly. Maul has killed clones before. The sudden bout of empathy doesn’t make of lick of sense, but Jesse is alive anyway, holding on tight to Rex, his brother, and he’s so relieved that he almost forgets his pain.

It’s an odd thing, to be grateful towards your torturer. Jesse feels it more for Rex’s sake than his own.

An explosion rocks the building. Rex lets go of Jesse, expression hardening.

“We’re getting you to medical, and then I’ve got to get out there,” he states, looking Jesse over again. “You alright?”

Jesse almost laughs. It’s hard to even think right now. But he’ll be alright. He has to be alright, because there’s no place for broken soldiers in this army.

“Yeah,” he says, and does not think of Maul, does not think of the gold-black Zabrak in Maul’s head or the way he’d placed a gentle hand on Jesse’s neck and whispered of twisted loyalty. “Yeah, I’ll be alright.”

#fanfic #jesse #darth maul #writing

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hyunhour · 4 years ago

Text

to hell with love ] [ hyunjin au

a/n: well.. another soppy love story with major heartbreak. ah i’m a sucker for these :> it felt right, i was listening to sad love songs and recently it’s been raining a lot so.. anyway! a hyunjin fic was long overdue aha >.> i tried my best to be excessive and extra as hell with the description. a song i'd recommend to listen to while reading would be "ex - stray kids" oop sorry >:) this is for fictional purposes only and in no way is it supposed to depict the real personality of my baby hyunjin grrrrr >:c

heartbreaker!hyunjin, fem!reader x idol hyunjin, major heartbreak, pure angst

tw: heartbreak heartbreak heartbreak, + hyunjin being a d!ck

word count: 1.8k

Hyunjin was your first boyfriend since high school. You had been there with him during his pre-debut days, the days where he was still a trainee still learning the ropes of an idol singer in S.Korea. You were there for the times where he was on the verge of giving up, and you were the one to push him to chase his dreams. Little did you know that the same dream was going to lead to the demise of your relationship.

The rain was incessant. The evanescent rain weaved along with the bitter wind that whipped all around. The night sky was of black tranquility with countless small stars swimming amongst the large pillows of grey clouds. The silver rays of light from the moon seemed to shed light on only you and the man standing before you; the rest of your surroundings, tar-black. Was the moon mocking you? Did it think your dreaded break-up was some sort of stage play for the stars to witness? It sure did feel like it.

Time seemed to have breezed by, your clothes were heavily soaked and it clung to your soft skin. The tufts of your hair were just as wet, strays of it plastered onto your tear-stained cheeks. How long have you been crying? Or was it from the torrential rain? You could hardly tell.

“I’m sorry.” Hyunjin muttered under his breath, his head hung low as he ran a hand through his rain slickened hair. There was an indecipherable facial expression that he had masked on, all you wanted to do was simply pry through his mind and figure out his thoughts. The thoughts that led him to make this decision, ending your relationship out of the blue.

“Don’t.” you sucked in harshly. “...don’t say sorry. Just stay.” your voice trembled, coupled with your quavering eyes, that were desperate to meet with his. But he refused to look up at you, only keeping the cobbled ground beneath him in view.

“Please. Please look at me,” your throat felt so swollen, it strained your voice to even speak. You took small tentative steps towards him, your tremulous hands reaching out for him.

He was well out of your reach. Your fingertips just barely grazing the sides of his arms before he backs away from you, stumbling a little. It stinged so badly, it felt like the more he tried to distance himself from you, your heart felt like it was getting ripped to shreds. Your hands fall back to your sides, where they belonged now.

The shredding rain only seemed to get louder the more time passed, and silence fell between the two of you. Your vision was murky, it was hard to see him anymore. Just a dark figure looming over you, and his midnight orbs just barely looking right at you.

You noticed his crimson face, in contrast with the pale moonlight that shone tonight. Tremors overtook his lean figure, his shoulders slumped in resignation, and hot torrents of grief streamed down his flushed cheeks. It looked like he had lost all hope, and the intangible weight he had been carrying unknowingly had crushed him down completely. He was giving up. No. He had given up.

“Why?” your voice cracked, you suppressed your sobs by holding a clamped fist over your trembling lips.

“It’s been long overdue. I need to focus on my career, you know that best.” he answered with ease, it was as if he already had the answers etched in his head in preparation for this inevitable moment. It was simple, straightforward but not enough for you.

It wasn’t enough for the entirety of your relationship. Four years. Four fucking years. It seemed like the rain was washing away all those years down the drain. You needed more than simply phrased sentences to justify the end of your relationship. It just didn’t resonate well with you that measly excuses could mark the final chapter. You just couldn’t find a part of you that could comprehend this entire situation.

“There has to be.. something more.” you irked, and you reached out again. This time, you made sure to get a grip of the sleeves of his leather jacket. You weren’t going to let go so easily, you’re stubborn as it is, he should know that best.

“I.. I’m setting my priorities straight. I don’t need a relationship to distract me from succeeding in my career. You know how much I wanted this.” his hand reached for yours, ghosting over it. “No. I need this.” he held onto your hand, and it seemed like he was shaking just as much as you.

You blinked a couple times, you could hardly believe the words leaving his lips right now. The harshness of his words paled in comparison to his actions, gut-wrenching sobs that caused his whole body to shake, and his previously dull eyes now bloodshot-red. Why was he feeding you lies so adamantly?

“But, you promised.” you inched closer to him, sadness had long dissolved with the pitter patter of the rain. Anger instead, had begun to brew inside of you. Ice ran in your veins, and it wasn’t from the cold rain. You felt betrayed, anger and not to mention the blistering pain that scratched at your heart, picking at old wounds. His words had just opened up a part of you that you had closed off, having you denying its’ existence for so long. The side of you that terrified you, the one that had undergone so much torment that it’s only way to resolve itself was to give the same amount of affliction to others.

“You promised me. Before your debut, you said, you wouldn’t let the industry change you. You wouldn’t let it change, us.” you resumed, you raised your fists against his chest, hammering it as hard you could.

“You said–“ you spoke through ragged breaths. “You wouldn’t let your job get in the way of us. You weren’t going to use it an excuse for us. You said you were going to be impenetrable.” you raised your next fist before he stopped you, a tight grip on your wrist to stop you.

“Fucking hell! You said you loved me.” you couldn’t muster enough courage to look him in the eyes — even if you did, the new tears welling up in your eyes would probably blur your vision.

“You said you wouldn’t fucking leave me.” with that, your legs gave way. You slumped to the ground, your hand reached to your chest, in an attempt to sooth the seething pain that had began to gnaw from the insides of your chest. It felt like a literal ball of fire had been planted inside of you. Your body wasn’t cold from the rain anymore. It was fiery-hot, the heartbeat of yours becoming increasingly fast as it thrummed against your ribs, and all you could see was red.

“That was then.” he had the guts to say. “Now is now, things have changed, I have changed.” he paused briefly, “We, have changed.” he finished. Hyunjin’s eyes were glued onto you, he took in every part of you, your body that shook violently as choked sobs poured out of you and it hurt like hell. All he wanted to do was pull you into a hug, shake it off as a lie and go about your lives. But he stood rooted to the ground, clenched fists by his sides, and couldn’t bring himself to even go closer to you. He felt like he’d only get burned, like the way you would if you tried to tame the flame of a lighter.

“We?” you incredulously laughed. “Don’t you fucking dare say that. The only thing that has changed, is you.” you finally looked him in the eye, a wistful smile adorned his face. How could he even smile in this situation? God, you wanted to slap it off off him.

“You’re wrong. Everything has. You just, can’t see it.” he shook his head, wiping his tears away with the back of his hand.

“It’s not too late, too say this is all a lie. I’ll forgive you! Just please– fuck, I can’t. I can’t live without you.” it pained you to even utter those words, an onslaught of sobs and tears coursing down your cheeks followed straight after. It has gotten too painful to look at him, to breathe, and to even believe that any of this was real. Everything just hurt like hell.

“You can. Go home safely.” he backed away slowly, and his footsteps gradually disappearing off into the distance until all you could hear was the blistering rain against the ground.

There he was, walking away from you without even sparing a second glance. How could he leave you in a state like this? You could hardly find it fathomable that this was the same soft-hearted man you had fallen in love with, your silly high school crush that turned out to be your first love, your first relationship, your first for everything. He made up such a big part of your life, that watching him leave, was like that part had tore itself away from you. It wasn’t a peaceful exit.

“Come back. Hyunjin, you better get back here! Right now!” you screamed your lungs out, your sporadic breathing not offering you any ease.

He still didn’t turn.

“Hyunjin! Stop this right now! Fucks’ sake!” and you continued yelling, your lungs burning. You know he could hear you, you knew it and that’s why it stinged even more.

He continued walking, his hands slipped into his pockets.

“Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!” you kicked your feet, your strained cries hurting your already swollen throat, and the tears, they kept flowing. Your hands ran up to your hair, grabbing a fistful of it, pulling at it. How the fuck were you supposed to regain any sort of composure?

“Fuck you, Hwang Hyunjin.” that was your last plea, as you completely broke down. You kneeled on the ground, in hopes that somewhere, something would answer your prayers. Whether it be the mocking moon, the stars, or god. You needed something to anchor you to the bit of sanity left inside of you. Anything. Since your safety pin, Hyunjin, had left you open and vulnerable.

Just a few days ago, you relished in the fact that you were in love. A type of love that had been rare. True genuine love. One where the amount of love being given and taken was equal. The type that had you giggling after midnight, after you relive the good moments both of you shared that day. Or the simple times where all you needed was each other’s presence for comfort. The love, it came as easily as it went.

It was too good to be true anyway. You managed to date your first highschool crush, a dreamy man by itself. A man that had girls fawning over him left and right, an aspiring idol singer and had so much potential overflowing out of him. How did you manage to snag him? You have no idea. But everything had felt right. Now everything was out of place. You were lost, he had always been by your side to guide you. He was the flame of light in your dark tunnel, the rainbow after the rain. Now all he was, was nothing.

You sat there for what felt like forever. The rain slowly beginning to turn into airy rain, one that was gentler against your skin. It felt like it was trying to comfort you, the drops of rain caressing your body.

You weren’t sure if you were ever going to be able to fall in love again. Or if you even wanted to.

To hell with love.

#hyunjin #hhj #stray kids #skz #skz x reader #kpop imagines #kpop fanfic #skz fanfic #skz au #stray kids fic #stray kids au #hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin angst #hyunjin au #stray kids angst #skz angst #kpop angst

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adharastarlight · 4 years ago

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Wolfstar Headcanon:

Plaits

After a rough transformation, Remus is playing with Sirius’s hair as a comfort and starts plaiting it.

Sirius falls asleep, happily and wakes up to Remus, snoring softly below him. When he looks at his hair he can't help but smile

It looks perfect, and so intricate. He waits till Remus is awake and runs out of the shack, screaming to show James and Peter the gorgeous pattern Remus wove into his hair.

It becomes a routine, and one they both love, every quidditch match, Sirius’s hair will be plaited, curtesy of his boyfriend.

And after every fullmoon, every test, every bad day for either of them, its a routine. Chocolate, soft music and a hairbrush.

Sirius loves it so much, that during the summer he tries to teach himself how to braid. It doesn't feel the same but he loves his hair in plaits.

Walburga, however, does not agree. "I always hated your long hair. But this?? This is a disgrace." She rips it out, leaving Sirius devastated.

Sirius returns to Hogwarts, hair patchy and short, far shorter than he feels comfortable with. And he knows, just knows he's ruining everything with Remus.

So he avoids him at every cost. What would Remus think of him? He can't even stand up to his own mother. He cried for nights on end without Remus to plait his hair, that was no longer there.

Lily eventually finds him, hiding out behind the shack, crying softly, head in his hands.

"Si?" She walks over, gasping at his balding scalp, torn hair. At the pure devastation in his eyes.

"N-no don't look at it-"

"Oh Sirius, hey its okay. Did your mother do this?"

Sirius nods slowly as Lily sits next to him, analysing the damage.

"I know a potion that could help fix this, and I have some muggle hair care too."

Sirius looks up, hope pouring out of his soul, maybe he can have his tradition with Rem back, "Really?"

Lily nods, smiling softly and pulling him up. "Of course, Si. Now come on, your boyfriend has been looking for you all day."

Sirius shakes his head slowly, I'm hideous

But Lily doesn't listen, dragging him to the castle and to a more than slightly flustered Remus.

Remus’s eyes flood with relief when Sirius stumbles into his arms, crying softly. "I'm sorry- I look so-"

"Perfect, as always." Remus says, cutting him off, running his fingers over the nape of his neck.

Sirius shakes his head, tears welling in his eyes yet again

But Remus doesn't let it go, for every day before it grows back, with Lily's help, Remus never, ever let's Sirius hear a word edgeways. Because in his mind, Sirius will always be perfect .

By the time it grows back, Sirius has been complemented every morning and night.

The morning Sirius wakes up, his hair almost back to normal, he leaps onto Remus’s bed, kissing him softly

"Its back!!!"

Remus smiled sleepily, running his hands through Sirius’s locks and kissing him back

"I told you it would, love."

And so their tradition continues, for years. Throughout hogwarts, a daily morning routine.

And everything is back to normal. Although Lily finds herself constantly out of conditioner and the threat of the looming war draws nearer each passing day.

When they leave school, Sirius and Remus move in together.

The stress from the order gets to them both and plaiting Sirius’s hair, already a daily thing, somehow becomes more constant.

Remus learns more and more styles, French, Dutch, Fishtail, you name it, he can probably do it.

And its not just Sirius anymore, its Lily too. When James’s hands shake too much to do much more than hold his wand, when Lily's too tired to lift her arms, Remus plaits her hair, tying it out of the way.

And then they go into hiding, and Sirius becomes so nervous, hardly able to stay still as Remus plaits his hair.

But God, he wishes he did. He wishes he was able to take just that, just that small thing. Just one small memory of everything before Voldemort tore them to shreds to his cell.

But he couldn't, because he'd pushed away Remus’s hands, his offer to plait his hair, the calming tone in his voice. It was too much.

And now, he sat alone in his cell, crying and desperately tugging his hair into braids. But none of them were good enough.

Tears rolling down his cheeks as he yanked his hair out of his skull, pulling all the memories, all the pain from his head. Of course, it never worked.

The shared laughs, sighs of content, smiling faces, hair ties flicking and soaring across their dorm, it wouldn't leave.

Lily's hands swiftly threading silklike soap through his hair, those months of growing it back, just to return to their tradition.

Remus’s soft touches, gentle kisses as he passed Sirius strands to hold, caressing his shaking fingers softly.

None of it would leave. And it was torturing him.

For twelve years, he let his hair flow, not being able to bring himself to tearing it off again, not letting himself weave it out of the way. Because he didn't deserve the comfort of those memories anymore.

For twelve years, he stared at a brick wall, sobbing and shaking with no release. Nothing and no one to ease the pain.

And Remus had it no better. For twelve years, all he could find himself doing was threading his fingers through his hair and whimpering softly

All the memories of Sirius’s jet black locks sifting through his fingers, the sweet flashbacks to the early mornings, sat on the balcony, hands buried deep in his hair.

But with the sweet, cherished moments, came the bile. The sting of betrayal. The knowledge that he could never run his fingers through those strands again. That the love of his life betrayed everyone he loved. And it tore him apart.

More than every full moon combined. It broke him, and he didn't know how to cope without the one person he knew he could never have again.

And the pain almost leaves, those twelve years halting in a maddening embrace. Of course, Sirius being a dramatic bitch didnt change, and neither had his hair.

If he could just bring Lily and James back, back to this moment as if no time had passed he would, in a heart beat.

They fell back into traction again, every day stretching out with unspoken whispers, hair being braided in near silence.

Another war was coming, but this time, it wouldn't tear them apart, they wouldn't let it.

So they didn't talk about it, they didn't let it reach conversation, merely sat in eachothers presence. Remus’s fingers dancing through his boyfriend's hair

And everything was almost, just almost, back to normal

And then- the last thing Remus saw, was the plait falling out, the hairtie crashing to the floor, his world drifting through the veil. And then the world stopped.

If Harry hadnt been there, if he didn't have to hold him back, God what he would've done to jump after him. After those perfect locks, after his everything.

And until the day he died, Remus kept the hair tie around his wrist. Holding onto the last thing he had of Sirius. The last sliver of hope, that maybe, just maybe, they could still get through this war together.

Maybe just maybe it wouldn't all be in vain

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