#my favorite part was the ominous warning he gave to the reader when he was almost 16

[crisiscutie]

The momster cooked! 👀 Check this awesome snippet fic out guys!

I propose an idea. Sephiroth, barely turned adult, snuck out from his tightly secured home to find his caretaker (his "parental"/"mother" figure) he'd been obsessed with for years, maybe planning an 'ambush'? and learned that they were with a partner he didn't know about. Might've even had a family with them!

Boy, he'd be furious.

Yes! The "betrayal" (in his eyes) would be their ultimate sin. How could they? To built up such relationship with Sephiroth, ever since he was a mere boy. His world shatters when this revelation comes out of the left field. And it's not like they talked much about their life outside of him whenever they were on their job. They were solely focused on him. Making sure he got the proper nurture, care and affection one would need growing up. Technically, they did everything right.

Maybe too "right". Because now, Sephiroth felt like they were bound to him and him alone. And it should stay that way. His struggle to block out the dark thoughts only grew over time. Those Jenova instincts clawing at his mind to force him to acknowledge his dominance over them. How easy it could be. But he had to hold himself back. Keep the mask on for a bit longer so his perfect plan to get what he wants will come to fruition.

And his dear caretaker sensed there was something off about Sephiroth. How every affectionate touch they normally shared (in privacy) lingers a bit longer. And the subtle hesitancy in his body language whenever Sephiroth forces himself to pull away. And there's that slight dark shift in his pupils whenever someone steals their attention from him. They've brush it off, attributing to Sephiroth being in his typical grouchy mood.

They just have no idea of what's to come when they go to Nibelheim with Sephiroth...

[alisonsfics]

off limits - part five

pairing: brother’sbestfriend! henry cavill x reader

summary: henry was best friends with your brother, theo, which meant despite the clear chemistry between you two, you both had chosen to not date.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: swearing

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 6 coming soon

After getting the ominous text from Theo, your mind had been racing a million miles a minute. You had no idea why he suddenly wanted to hang out with you and Henry, specifically. Theo wasn’t even really supposed to know that you and Henry had been spending time together.

You tried to distract yourself with a whole lists of hobbies, but your mind kept running back to wondering what Theo wanted to talk about. Theo wasn’t normally very secretive. He was normally an extrovert who didn’t keep anything in. You started preparing yourself for the chance that Theo knew about you and Henry.

Theo had sent you an address for some gala being hosted by the company he worked for. The only other information he gave you was that you’d talk once you got there.

You tried to assure yourself that if he was going to yell at you for dating-but-not-dating his best friend, he probably wouldn’t have picked a public event.

You got dressed up, as the invitation mentioned, and arrived at the gala way earlier than you were supposed to. You hadn’t seen or spoken to Henry since you got the text from Theo. You both were mentally spiraling and needed some time to think.

When it was finally an acceptable time, you headed into the lobby, where you saw Henry waiting. He was sitting on a bench, anxiously tapping his leg.

He gave you a soft smile once he saw you. He was so anxious that he couldn’t even force himself to stand and give you a hug.

“Theo here yet?” You asked him, trying to keep your hands from shaking. He shook his head. “Haven’t seen him yet,” he told you.

You grabbed your phone out of your purse, hoping you could distract yourself. It didn’t work. You anxiously switched between your Instagram feed and your email for ten minutes, until Theo showed up.

When Theo finally walked through the door, you and Henry practically jumped. “Hey, Theo. How are you?” You asked, giving your brother a quick hug. You were partially convinced that if you acted like everything was okay, maybe it would be. “Hey, guys. It’s good to see you both.” Theo said, also giving Henry a hug.

“So, you guys are probably wondering about my text. I’m sorry that I was so vague, but I was worried that neither of you would agree if I told you beforehand.” Theo started to explain.

Your fears that this was about you and Henry started to fade, but they were replaced by fears that this was worse.

“So, you both know that you’re the maid of honor and best man at the wedding, which me and Sarah are so happy about. But, we knew neither of you had a date yet to the wedding, so me and Sarah wanted to set you both up.” Theo finished explaining.

You and Henry were stunned. You glanced over at Henry, trying to read his expression. You both had been so worried about Theo finding out, and now, it sounded like he wanted the two of you to be together. You weren’t sure what you were hearing. Neither one of you knew how to respond.

“So, Sarah’s on her way in with two of our friends. We think you’ll love them. For you, we have my coworker Todd. He loves all your favorite movies, and he’s really into cooking. And Henry, Sarah has this friend named Mia, who owns this little bakery downtown. And if all goes well, maybe they could be your dates to the wedding.” Theo said, causing a pit to form in both yours and Henry’s stomachs.

Theo wasn’t setting you up with Henry. He was setting you both up with different people. You couldn’t even tell Theo that you weren’t interested because both your dates already in the parking lot.

“Alright. One of you say something, please. You’re scaring me.” Theo said, noticing your stunned reactions.

You were pissed. Theo had ambushed you.

“What’s to say? They’re already here, aren’t they?” You said, with a slight bitterness. Henry and Theo both picked up on it, but neither of them mentioned it.

Then, the front door to the lobby opened, and Sarah walked in with two people behind her. Sarah smiled at you both, unaware of the awkward tension in the room.

“Hey, guys. This is Todd and Mia.” Sarah said, introducing you all. You politely smiled at Todd, who was giving you an expectant look. “Shall we?” He asked you, holding out his arm for you. You reluctantly held onto his arm, and he led you into the banquet hall.

Henry didn’t realize how protective he was over you until he saw you with Todd. It made Henry sick to his stomach.

Todd brought you over to your assigned table. You glanced at the name tags and realized that all six of you were at one table. Todd pulled out your chair for you, but you still didn’t even want to look at him.

“So, you work with Theo?” You asked with a desperate attempt at conversation. Todd nodded his head and starting rambling about his job. You watched Henry, Mia, Theo, and Sarah start heading towards your table and prepared for the disaster that you knew would occur.

You zoned out as Todd rambled on and on. Henry gave you a sympathetic look as he sat down. You’re weren’t mad at Henry in anyway, but for some reason, you hoped that he would stand up to Theo and fight for you. You knew it was a crazy hope and that Henry wouldn’t do it. Henry had promised you that he’d keep whatever your relationship was a secret from Theo. He wouldn’t break that promise without your permission.

As if you weren’t feeling upset enough, watching Mia practically drool over Henry wasn’t helping.

“I’m going to go get a drink. If anyone wants to come with.” Sarah excused herself, starting to pick up on the tension. “We’ll come with you,” Mia volunteered, grabbing onto Henry’s hand.

You watched Henry’s eyes widen as he was dragged away from the table. “While they’re gone, I’m going to run to the bathroom real quick. I’ll be back in a minute.” Todd excused himself as well.

“So how do you like him?” Theo asked from across the table as soon as Todd was out of earshot.

You refused to look at Theo. You fixed your attention on the other side of the room and didn’t budge. “Hello? What’s wrong?” Theo asked you.

“I’m fucking pissed at you. That’s what’s wrong.” You snapped at him. Theo looked genuinely shocked by your response. “You’re mad because I…got you a date?” He asked, confused.

You rolled your eyes, running a hand through your hair. “No, I’m mad because you ambushed me. You didn’t ask if I was interested, and I couldn’t have said no because he was already here.” You ranted. Theo was trying to reason with you, but all the stress from hiding your feelings for Henry was bubbling up.

“I was just trying to be helpful. I just want you to be happy.” Theo told you. You believed him, and you knew he had good intentions, but sometimes his execution was shit. “Maybe I already am happy. Maybe I don’t want to be in a relationship right now. Just because you’re getting married doesn’t mean I have to. I mean, I get enough of this shit from mom. I don’t need it from you too.” You said, standing up from the table and walking away.

You started walking towards the lobby again. You walked past the bar, and Sarah and Henry saw that you were fuming. “I’m gonna go check on her. Can you get me a drink?” Henry asked Mia, to which she quickly nodded.

Henry followed you into the lobby. “Hey, wait up. It’s me.” He called after you. You stopped when you recognized his voice. You turned around to face him and a few tears rolled down your cheeks.

“Talk to me,” Henry said, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a hug. You hated how safe you felt with him. You wrapped your arms around him, holding onto him like it would make your problems go away. “I am so fucking pissed at Theo for this, and this has all been so much recently. I’ve just fucking had it.” You rambled.

Henry rubbed your back as you ranted to him. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to complain so much. I mean, you’re going through this too, and I haven’t heard you complain once.” You apologized.

Henry took your hand and pulled you over to one of the benches against the wall. He sat down next to you. “You’re allowed to complain all you want. This fucking sucks. And trust me, I am just as upset as you are.” He comforted you, moving a strand of your hair behind your ear. You never felt alone when you were with Henry.

“You’re such a good listener. You should be my therapist. God knows I’m gonna need one after tonight,” you joked, laughing as you wiped another tear off your cheek.

“I hate seeing you cry.” Henry said, grabbing one of your hands in his. He ran his thumb over the back of your hand.

You saw a flash of doubt in Henry’s eyes for a split second, and then he cupped your face with his free hand. Then, he slowly leaned in to kiss you. It wasn’t like any of the other times you’d kissed Henry. Normally, it was heat of the moment and rushed. This was different. It was slow and sweet.

You leaned into the kiss. Butterflies swirled around inside you. You interlaced your fingers with Henry’s. It was magical.

Henry could feel you smile against the kiss. For a second, his feelings for you were simple. In that moment, he didn’t care about anything else, especially Theo. He just wanted you.

“Hey, Theo said you ran off. I wanted to come check on you.” Todd said, bursting into the room before realizing what was going on.

You and Henry froze. You half expected Henry to jump away from you. He didn’t. He let his hand rest on your waist. “I’m sorry. We really had no idea Theo was going to set us up. Theo doesn’t know about this. Please, don’t tell him.” You apologized.

Todd nodded and left you both alone.

Henry quickly stood up. “I need to go talk to Mia.” He said.

“That’s your first reaction after kissing me?” You asked him, half teasing.

“I need to tell her that there is somebody else who makes me very happy. I don’t want to lead her on when I am one thousand percent crazy about you.” He said, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“What do we do about Theo?” You asked him.

“I think we should talk to him and see how he reacts. There’s so much stuff going on with the wedding in three weeks, but I think we should talk to him after the wedding. I know that’s still a while from now, but I don’t want him to be stressed about the wedding when we talk to him.” He suggested.

You pulled him in for a hug. “I’m going to go hang out with Sarah. I’m not really in the mood to talk to Theo yet. But we’ll talk soon, okay?” You told him. He nodded and smiled before you left.

Then, Henry went to find Mia. “Hey, can we talk?” He asked her. She quickly nodded.

“I had no idea that Theo and Sarah were setting us up today. I don’t want to lead you on, and there’s this girl. I mean, it’s complicated, but it wouldn’t be fair to lie to you. Theo doesn’t know anything about it though.” He explained.

“Thank you for telling me. I really appreciate your honesty. And I totally understand why you’d be nervous to tell Theo.” She told Henry. Henry furrowed his eyebrows. “Wait, I’m sorry. What do you mean?” He asked her, curiously.

“Because she’s his sister,” Mia told Henry, as though it was clear as day.

Henry chuckled to himself. “I didn’t realize it was so obvious.” He admitted. Mia shyly nodded her head. “It’s just the way you look at her,” she told him.

They wrapped up their conversation, and Henry went back into the lobby to think. He wanted to seem confident and hopeful in front of you when talking about telling Theo, but Henry was terrified. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin his relationship with his best friend or ruin yours and Theo’s relationship.

The stress had really gotten to Henry over the past few weeks. He felt his eyes start to water from the pure stress and anxiety. He had no one to talk about these things with except you, and he wanted to be strong for you.

Theo walked into the lobby, startling Henry. “You mad at me too? My sister's pissed, and judging by the way Mia and Todd are making out, I’m assuming neither of you were interested in your dates.” Theo said.

Henry shook his head. “I’m not mad at you. Slightly irritated, but not mad. But, I couldn’t date Mia, Theo.” He told him.

Theo noticed the emotion in Henry’s face. “Hey, man, are you alright?” Theo asked, concerned. Henry just shook his head. “There’s this girl. And god, I want to be with her. I think about her all the time, and it fucking sucks because I know how amazing we could be together, but it can’t happen. All I really want to do is take her on a date.” Henry explained, wiping his eyes quickly and faking a smile.

Theo put his hand on Henry’s back. “No one can really stop you though. You should go be with this girl if she makes you happy. Don’t let anything stand in your way.” Theo assured Henry. Henry chuckled to himself at the irony. He knew Theo would have a very different sentiment if he knew the girl was his sister.

“It’s just way too complicated. You have no idea.” Henry told him.

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[thisblogisaboutabook]

Bad Idea Right? - Part 9

Eris x Reader/Azriel’s Daughter

What are friends for if not for meddling? A certain daughter of spring and her heir apparent lover scheme to bring a stubborn Shadowsinger and her Autumn High Lord mate back together.

A/n: remember when I said this would be the final part? I was wrong. Sorry! Don’t hate me. There will be at least one more chapter and an epilogue.

Part 8 Series Masterlist Part 10

Warnings: language, sexual innuendos, alcohol

In hindsight, perhaps I was a bit dramatic. But in my defense, what the fuck??

The High Lord of the Autumn Court is my mate?

And he’s known since the moment he met me?

I am a fool, truly. There’s no other explanation. Perhaps I may not be as perceptive as my father or nosey little sister but I’m pretty damned adept in reading a room.

Yet I’d been fucking my mate for two years with zero clue. No wonder my damned shadows enjoy playing with him so much. But to be fair, who wouldn’t? I mean look at him. The muscles, graceful stature, those auburn locks of hair, that arrogant smirk that I want nothing more than to kiss right off his stupid, gorgeous face.

And in the face of the truth, I fled. Like a coward.

“Sissy?” Azalea’s concerned voice interrupts my spiral of self-loathing.

Her little hand squeezes mine. “Ice cream makes me feel better when I’m sad.”

“That sounds wonderful, Azzie.”

With that, my mother gave a soft smile and strode to the kitchen to retrieve my favorite strawberry flavor from the ice box.

I looked down to my sister to find her brows drawn together and lips pursed, wings sagging just a bit. “What’s going on, Azalea?”

“I told Eris that what he did was bad but sissy, I don’t think he’s bad. But you were so sad.”

Oh.

“Oh Azalea, I’m sorry. I appreciate you and your loyalty. I’m lucky to have such a kind little sister and you know what? I bet Eris would prefer for you to stick up for me instead of ignoring my feelings. Because you’re right, he is not bad. He’s not a bad male at all.”

“Then why are you so sad?” question shone in her eyes as she waited for a response.

“I’m upset because I believed that he liked me for me - but now that I know he knew I was his mate from the moment we met, it makes me feel like he only likes me because of a bond that neither of us have control over.”

The winged little girl pondered before replying, “He can still love you for who you are even with a bond. I didn’t have control over being your sister, but I like you a lot. I wouldn’t want anyone else to be my sister.”

Her words stopped me in my tracks. Since when was my little sister so wise beyond her years? Yet still - it stings. It stings for there to have been so many secrets and perhaps he had good reason to hide it. Hell, maybe he didn’t even want me beyond the most base level of a mating bond. The sex was incredible. Yet, he was the one who took me on a date tonight. Still came around despite my father’s ominous presence. An ugly voice inside of me whispered that it was all to gain a political foothold, yet the more rational side of me could feel that it wasn’t truth.

A bang on the door interrupted my thoughts.

Azzie’s wings rustle, little legs bounding across the room in search of the unexpected intrusion, her hazel eyes peering out the foyer window. My heart fluttered briefly - could it be him? What would I say?

The racing sensation in my chest faltered as my shadows briefed me of the visitor’s identity.

“Azzie, can you go ask mom to scoop an extra bowl of ice cream?”

She didn’t miss a beat as her little feet took off into the kitchen where she animatedly informed our mother of the visitor at our doorstep.

Another knock and a shout of “Open up the door, bitch! I know you’re in there.” had me letting out a flustered breath and scurrying to allow the nuisance entry into my home, greeting her with “How do you even know where I live?”

“Well,” Layla let out an exasperated sigh, taking a step into the fae-light illuminated foyer. “For one, it’s nice to see you again too. Second, Daemati boyfriend, remember?” Pointing a finger to her head with an incredulous expression, she continued. “Third, you didn’t see me fleeing when my tits were out in front of your entire family. THANKS for that.”

Shame flooded my features but she cut off any attempt at an apology for leaving her in the uncomfortable predicament with Nyx. “Eh, I like to think of myself as a bit of an exhibitionist. I just never imagined my first foray into such endeavors would involve the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court. ANYWAY-“ the blonde gave me a pointed look, summoning two bottles of wine from a pocket realm. “I brought vino for our troubles.”

Twenty minutes later and we’d all soothed our wounds with ice cream and Azalea peppering Layla with questions about anything and everything she could think of.

I could have fallen through the floor when she gleefully informed Layla that she did indeed try to stop us before barging in upon her and Nyx’s more private affairs. Layla only laughed and flashed me a vulgar gesture when Azalea wasn’t looking.

Azalea eventually dozed off somewhere between Layla and I’s second and third bottle of wine when she jumped up with a shriek. “Oh my gods! What’s the name of that bar you lot love so much? Rose’s?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Rita’s?”

“Yes! That’s the one. Let’s go! Girls night out.”

“Layla, why don’t we go somewhere the Inner Circle doesn’t frequent? Somewhere a bit more youthful?”

With a dismissive wave she shush’d me. “No way. Let’s be tourists. Wouldn’t anyone visiting want to go to THE spot that the Court’s upper echelon frequent? Let’s go dazzle the citizens of Velaris with our sexy moves. I’ll let you grind against me if you’re good.”

I laughed at my friend’s peculiar method of cheering me up but honestly, a night out to let loose before facing the rocky road ahead sounded like just what I needed.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

———

Rita’s was more packed than usual as an attendant led Layla and I back to the Inner Circle’s standard table, we snaked through the crowded floor, brushing shoulders with the ocasional dancing patron when I overheard a voice muttering about the “sexy High Lord” she’d bumped into at the bar.

I reached to grab Layla’s attention but it was too late as I looked up to find her cozied up to Nyx with my uncles, my father, and my- “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Looking past my friend with her shit-eating grin, I see the gorgeous face of my mate.

————————

Eris

He stood dejected in the basement of the gallery, trying to process what had just gone down.

Never did he imagine this was how the night would turn out. Under normal circumstances, he would be traveling back to his court to look into the father of the Day Court female who’d tried holding him hostage but Helion would look further into it and send word. He was not in a place to fairly handle such a situation given that the thought of them laying a hand on his mate made him burn with rage.

So he stood there, taking steadying breaths about to leave when a low whistle rang out behind him and a large hand clapped his back. “Ouch. Not the ideal way to reveal a mating bond.”

Eris scoffed, readying an unbecoming retort when Cassian continued, “Been there. It’s not easy but you two will work it out. Beer helps. Care to grab a drink at Rita’s while Nyx and Rhys work their shit out? Probably not the best for you and Azriel to be alone together at the moment anyway.”

To his credit- Azriel only let out a semi-annoyed huff and rolled his eyes.

What the fuck was this evening becoming? Mating bond unveiled and now getting drinks with a male who had every right to loathe him.

But Eris didn’t have it in him to deny the offer. So with that, he found himself at Rita’s with the Night Court general.

“I’m just saying that these Archerons, they’re lovely and great but… they’re headstrong.” He put two palms up in the air. “Now before you jump to conclusions, it’s not a BAD thing. The gods know Nesta has handed my ass to me when I’ve needed it many times over the years but sometimes…. Sometimes you’ve just got to give them time to come around.”

Eris could have reminded Cassian that most females would need time to come around to such a reveal but… the male was making an effort and Eris had nobody else to talk to about such a situation.

He supposed he could have tracked down Lucien but the matter felt a bit too sensitive to address at the moment given the rejected bond between he and Elain and the very obvious fact that Eris’ mate was the result of that rejected bond.

“Hey- I’m here making an effort. At least try to appear like you’re not tuning me out.” Cassian waved a hand before him.

“Apologies.” Eris smirked, refusing to let the male see him too down and out. “Just processing everything.”

“Well, finish the rest of this beer and we can order some of that autumnal shit you all prefer in your court for the next round. Unless you’re too prissy and have some fancy shit you High Lord’s prefer.”

Eris recognized the bait for what it was, given that he knew Cassian would be the first to indulge in Rhysand’s top shelf liquors.

Eris lifted the foaming mug to his mouth and downed the entire beer before placing it back down on the counter. “Another Illyrian draft is just fine.”

The large male beside him let out a hum that almost seemed like approval. “Maybe you’re not such a cunt after all, High Lord.”

“Yeah, well keep that between us.”

Cassian held up two fingers as the bar keep gave him a nod and Cassian pointed to a table in the corner.

No sooner than they’d seated themselves did Rhysand and Nyx enter the establishment, a hesitant Azriel behind them.

“Sorry.” Cassian shrugged. “Rhys sent word a couple minutes ago. Figured we could all use a round after this evening.”

Rhys looking a bit disheveled in comparison to that usual air of arrogance he exuded, giving a cocky grin as eyes within the establishment fell upon him. His son on the other hand still appeared a bit out of sorts given the inconvenient revelation of he and the daughter of Spring to his entire family.

The Shadowsinger only gave a curt nod in greeting, expression remaining stony.

Through a boisterous laugh the general teased, “Welcome to the shit show.”

The tension at the table was palpable, Azriel glaring daggers through Eris, Nyx very clearly communicating mind to mind with someone, Rhys slowly losing his resolve in maintaining his collected facade. Cassian, ever the instigator, broke the silence. “So, mates, huh?”

Azriel’s cold gaze averted from the Autumn High Lord to the General, promising violence. “Hey-“ Cassian raised his palms again. “It’s not so bad. She could have been mated to Tamlin.”

Had it not been for the mating bond chafing his ass, Eris could have laughed but he only bristled at the thought of his mate with any other male.

“Ouch!” Cassian yelped as the violet-eyed High Lord kicked him under the table.

“Oh come on! None of us handled our mating bonds perfectly, and I know damn well that any of you would be enjoying this mess if roles were reversed. You’re just pissy, I remember very clearly the shit you gave me when this fucker,”pointing a calloused finger to Eris with a cheeky grin, “proposed to Nesta!”

Eris really wanted to fall through the floor at this point. “But she was my mate, and look at us now? Remember those days at the dining table, Az?”

Shadows whirled violently around the Spymaster. “You’re not obligated to speak every little thought that pops into your mind.”

Though it was clear the Shadowsinger was deathly serious, Cassian only waived him off and Nyx burst out laughing, egging his Uncle on.

“Mating bonds aren’t everything.” Azriel growled out, “You’re not entitled to her. She’s her own person and can choose what her heart wants.”

Eris raised an eyebrow at the implication. He was well aware that he played the bastard role well but he would never-

“Are you implying, Shadowsinger, that I would not let your precious daughter choose? And believe me, I’m well aware of the atrocities and the merits that can come from a rejected mating bind. I remember the physical and emotional pain inflicted upon my brother when his own bond was rejected, the uncontrollable waves of grief that still sometimes roll through him.” Azriel sat, stone faced at the reminder that his wife was not his mate. Eris didn’t give him time to react, continuing.

“But I’m also well aware that if not for that pain and that rejected bond, I would be without my beloved nephew, or my curious new friend who thinks of even the smallest of denizens of your court matter - who treats me like I’m just a person and not the arrogant prick the rest of the world views me as.”

Eris placed a broad palm to his own chest, clutching as if in physical pain as the next words left his lips. “And do you not think, Shadowsinger, that I don’t recognize the fucking treasure that came from that rejected bond? The irony that my brother’s rejected bond resulted in the greatest gift of my life? And while I’d love to covet that treasure, care for her, let her shine for all of those to see - to know that she’s mine - it’s not my choice. It’s hers. If she wants to shine with someone else? Gods, it will hurt like hel, but I’ll remember her with nothing but love in my heart. She wants to stay on her own, making her own way in the world? I’ll stand back and cheer for her. I think you’re well aware that NOBODY chooses for your daughter but her.”

Azriel remained stone faced, a hand resting to the handle of the foaming mug of mead before him. Cassian let out a huff. Nyx smirked and Rhysand only looked at Eris with something that almost appeared to be respect.

Azriel finally shook his head, raising the mug in Eris’ direction. “Then that’s all I can ask for.”

All eyes at the table darted to him in shock. The famed, merciless spymaster standing down.

Eris only lifted his own mug in return and that was that.

The next hour went by as smoothly as possible, the table ordering several rounds of drinks. Eris nearly pissed himself when the shock of a caress against his mental shields caught his attention, Nyxs’ amused voice only stating, “You can thank me later.”

Eris’ brows drew together, puzzled by what on earth he’d have to thank the heir for, as a blonde female fell into the seat beside the male. A familiar scent wafting into his nostrils.

His mate.

Gods, she looked fucking fantastic and Eris knew right away he’d have to glamour the involuntary scent of arousal wafting from him at the sight of her ethereal face, those fucking hips that he wanted to hug as tightly as that little dress did - his inhibited state not helping the situation whatsoever. She only glared at him, as she stood beside the table, sweet voice dripping with irritation,

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

She crossed her arms across her chest. Gods, she was trying to kill him. Her arms pushing up her immaculate breasts. Was he salivating? This had to be a dream. Or a nightmare if her father caught wind of just how the sight of her was affecting him.

But most of all, he only felt love and adoration as he stared at the prickly female glaring daggers through him. Truth-Teller would certainly feel less violent against his skin than the sharp gaze piercing into his heart.

“I didn’t know, I swear.” Eris pleaded.

“Right. I’m leaving.” She huffed.

“Oh no you fucking don’t” the blonde female interjected. “You’re not just going to ice him out. It’ll hurt you worse than any words ever could. You two need to TALK.”

Nyx looked to the female with pride.

“I’m not finished with YOU.” Y/N hissed with rage to her friend.

“Oh I have no doubt.” The female - Layla - fired back. “But first you’re going to work things out with your mate.”

With an irritated look to her friend, she grabbed Eris by the wrist with a reluctant “Come on, we’re LEAVING.”

Eris threw a grateful look to Nyx and Layla, standing with no resistance to the grasp his mate had on his wrist. Azriel grunted and began to stand, but Rhys threw an arm out, keeping him seated. And to Eris’ surprise, the Shadowsinger remained.

Cool air and the aroma of spices from the surrounding establishments greeted the pair, an otherwise perfect evening to drape his arm over her shoulder and whisper sweet nothings into her pointed ear as they passed the shops, but she only tapped her foot with impatience. “Well?? Winnow me to your apartment and let’s get this over with.”

Eris stepped forward, caressing her wrist in a lovers grasp, sensuous smirk forming on his lips. Fire in his blood or no, chill bumps rose up her olive skin, nipples pebbling beneath her dress.

“As you wish.” And winnowed her straight to the foot of his bed. He’d let her lead from there but if there was one thing he knew about his mate, she firmly believed all was fair in fucking and fighting. It was all in her hands how the night would go.

————————————————

A/n: Thank you everyone for your patience with this chapter! Life has been hectic (seasonal illnesses, end of the fiscal quarter, traveling sports, mental health struggles, etc) and my brain was just not cooperating with this chapter. After writing a few one shots I was able to get back into the proper headspace but found I was still struggling to transfer this chapter from my brain into print. I eventually realized I wasn’t ready for the story to end quite yet so with that being said this is NOT the final chapter. I hope you all don’t hate me for saying it was before changing my mind but it’s important to give the story the satisfying ending that it deserves. 🥰

ACOTAR general: @lilah-asteria

Eris general: @angiedsv

Series tags: @b0xerdancer @myheartfollower @ang-taylorsversion @acotarobsessed @uniquecolorwizard @justasillylittlegoofyguy @thelov3lybookworm @starryhiraeth @5moremin @azrielsmate3 @coolepowersthings @isa1b2h3 @inloveallthetime @julesofvolterra @deeshag @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @courtofbatboydreams @yourmumsdumptruck @nebarious @glitterypirateduck @mybestfriendmademe @acourtof-wingspan @paleidiot @anae-naea-zacheria @fandomarchiveilyd @bloodicka @12358

[hwanchaesong]

━⁠☞🍽️ Seventh Course: Picture perfect revenge, the definition of the burnt dessert that is brewing inside your unhinged mind. Well, he deserves it though. 🥢

🎧: Olivia Rodrigo - Jealousy, Jealousy

wc: 816

genre & warnings: angst, non-idol au, cheating, hints of insecurity, reader drinking wine, cursing, lovers to exes, etc etc

a/n: this is a part of The Sour Restaurant series. if y'all want, you can read the other album inspired fics of other groups here.

You scroll through your phone, sipping on your red wine and laughing to yourself. Giggling like a maniac because the ridiculousness of the situation is truly astounding.

It was a magnificent occasion, one that would normally make people cry but not you.

No, you are built differently.

The discovery that you dug made you so happy you think you're about to burst in excitement.

Because finally, fucking finally! Freedom is nigh and clean air will finally clear your black lungs.

You gaze at the clock, the man that you are waiting for will be home soon, and you are so fucking ready for a confrontation.

Soon enough, your boyfriend enters your shared apartment, jumping a little when he sees your figure in the shadows, indifferently sitting there with a menacing expression.

"Are you okay? Is something wrong?" he frowned when you replied with a scoff, slowly walking in your direction.

The entire living room is dark, the only source of light is the one from the hallway near your bedroom. It gives an ominous vibe in the atmosphere, exactly what you want to exude.

"Y/N, seriously, I don't have time for this. I j-"

You rolled your eyes at his audacity, shoving your phone in his face so he can gawk at the evidence of his betrayal.

He is nothing but a mere asshole in the entirety of this relationship, so thank the heavens for giving you a reason to leave.

Ever since he entered your life, his presence always gave you the sinking feeling of insecurity.

Paranoia at its finest, you could say.

It was all good at first. You can even say with confidence that he was the perfect boyfriend. He makes you feel like you're on top of the world, the only girl that he loves, the happiest person on earth.

But who knows what will happen, right?

His sublime image is merely a performance for you to enjoy and hate later on, especially when you start seeing the signs.

Going home to you smelling like a girl's perfume. Lipstick stain on the collar of his polo shirt. Being secretive on whatever is in his phone.

"Must be your imagination, baby."

"Oh this? This is nothing. I'll wash it later."

"Listen, privacy is also an important aspect of a relationship."

Fuck that privacy. You merely wanted to play games on his phone because waiting in line in his favorite restaurant bore you to death. Must he be so stingy?

Stingy because the shit excuse of a man was hiding something.

You have been tolerating his bland show for a while now, might as well give him a tip for giving you entertainment despite it not being worth your time.

"Tell me I'm crazy now." you smirk, victorious in the battle where you have been wounded far too many times to the point that you can't even bear to look in the mirror without wanting to vomit.

You've had enough comparing yourself to the girls that he hangs out with.

Girls that are way skinnier, comfortable in showing too much skin, wear make up like it's an extension of their body.

Then you saw this very suspicious lady that seemed to be a bit closer to your boyfriend than the others.

You can't help but be jealous of her pretty face, lavish lifestyle, and it seems like her friends love her so much.

But hey, you may be a tad bit insecure but you ain't a raging loser, you are ready to let your inner sherlock holmes out and prove a point.

"What was it again? You are not cheating and it's just all in my head?" here you are, showing him the proof of your hard work and catching him red handed.

Did he really think that you won't see him and that girl making-out in a photo that was posted by his friend a week ago.

No matter how pixelated it was or even if your eyesight is bad, you will definitely see it.

"Y/N, that is not what you think." he tried to explain, and you do not understand the reason for his panic as you confidently push him out of the flat.

"Wooyoung, I've seen, heard and smelled enough. I think it's time for you to shut the fuck up." you give him a fake smile, finally giving him a harsh strike on his chest that got him stumbling in the front of the apartment.

"Please, hear me out." he begs but no, your heart is not made out of cotton to listen to him.

Whatever befalls him, he deserves it.

"Go spend the night with your bitch and come back here tomorrow to gather your belongings while I'm at work. Goodbye."

You shut the door in his face, not paying attention to his knocks and pleas.

Finally, some peace and quiet in your mind, heart and soul.

taglist:

@acciocriativity @iarayara @stolasisyourparent @xdannix @nsixns @heartssol @vixensss @shakalakaboomboo

[morvantmortuary]

if I die young —

(Maxi Morvant x genderqueer!non-binary!Reader)

summary: what’s supposed to be a fun little in-joke between you and your boyfriend turns out to be a whole lot of something else.

warnings: brief discussion of past suicidal ideation on both your parts, some mild angst, semi-songfic to cheesy pop music.

general: ‘rae isn’t it like 3 am your time’ I know I know but listen. like!!! I didn’t even mean for this to occur, I just happened to see this on spotify and thought “oh lol I remember I gave Maxi like an irrational hatred of the original song, this is gonna be hilarious”

and then suddenly I’m hormonal and sobbing on my cat and thinking about how happy I am my high school self didn’t go through with it and how I wish I could tell them everything wonderful about right now, bc I love my life more than I ever have and all of the people here I’m lucky enough to have in it, but I can’t, so I wrote this instead okay?

okay! one full serving of schmaltz, here we go

You were moving so fast through the living room and the kitchen that you almost didn’t feel the familiar little bids for your attention all around you - the whispered pleas, the feeling of a cold bony finger tracing the back of your bare leg. You shrugged them off, getting halfway down the first set of basement stairs before you stopped just in time.

You scrambled back up a few, hitting the button wired into the wall that would ring the little silver bell in the prep room. This was meant, after too many close calls, to let Maxi (or any other Morvants lurking below) that you needed attention in some fashion. He in turn would let you know if it was safe for you to come down without you accidentally walking in on some poor late guest in a state of mid-embalming -

Or… something worse, as was wont occasionally happen here.

Your feet shuffled on the step as you listened, impatient even as you held your breath to try to hear any low chanting or ominous hissing.

“That you, baby?” Maxi called, his voice very much singular and regular. He sounded further back, possibly in the supply room, possibly in the office.

“Yeah!” you called back. You paused, taking stock of exactly why you were waiting with your phone in your hand. “It’s not urgent, really, if you’re busy, I just wanted to bug you with a… curiosity, I guess.”

“Well, how mysterious.” You watched him lean in at the bottom of the stairs from the embalming room door, sleeves rolled up as he wiped his hands on a dark cloth. “Consider mine piqued.”

“I’m not interrupting?” You nodded at the rag.

He shook his head, his crooked smile appearing. “No one needs attendin’ to yet, this was just cleanin’. I’m all yours.”

“Perfect. Okay, so.” You took the rest of the steps in a flurry while you looked down at your phone, pulling up your music app. “You won’t believe it.”

“You scare me when you do that, you know,” Maxi said idly, gesturing for you to enter the prep room ahead of him. “I don’t mean to sound old, but you could always get down the stairs first and then type—“

“You’re so sexy when you worry about the statistics of household accidents,” you joked, glancing up at him with a wry smile. “Anyway, just hear me out on this one. Are your speakers down here bluetooth?”

He had told you early on about his penchant for listening to music while he embalmed, if he was working with a Guest of Honor that wasn’t feeling too chatty. Apparently, when the two of you had started dating (and he was learning everything about you he could find by scouring your socials), he’d first heard a great deal of your favorites down here in the company of multiple decedents.

“Always a promisin’ start to a conversation,” Maxi said dryly, leaning his lower back against the right embalming table. “And yeah. They should be labeled.”

You scanned the menu that popped up when you tried to sync. “Are they ‘Music for dead people’?”

“Naturally.” His crooked smile grew into a grin.

“…And do they ever get to pick?” You looked up, unable to help a grin of your own creeping across your face at the thought. “Or is it always just you making them listen to your stuff?”

“Hey, sometimes it’s your stuff,” he joked. “And no, for the record, I’ve had some make requests. It’s not uncommon.”

You paused, suddenly immensely curious as to the music taste of the newly dead. “…Okay, so that’s a whole conversation I want to have later,” you said, trying to stay focused. “But the thing I came down here for, also very important: what’s your least favorite song in the world, bar none?”

Maxi’s grin thinned. “You know that. I know you know that.” He looked at you over the rims of his glasses, briefly somewhat owlish. “Dare I ask why you led with such a question?”

“I said you’re going to have to hear me out, didn’t I?” You wiggled your eyebrows to invoke an air of mystery.

“You know, Darlin’, you’re makin’ this a very hard sell, whatever it is,” he said, looking amused nonetheless.

“Get this.” You held up a hand for a dramatic pause. “She wrote a part two.”

Maxi immediately scoffed. “How the hell do you write a part two to ‘If I Die Young’? She was already dead in the first one!” He rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “I swear t’ god, if this means I have to listen a whole new wave of maudlin bullshit every time we get some poor young lady in here—“

“There’s only one way to find out.” You held up your phone, your finger hovering over the play button. “Shall we?”

Maxi paused, then looked you over slowly as he folded his arms across his chest. “Are you tellin’ me you ran all the way down here to make me listen to the continuation of my least favorite song ever with you, for your own sick and twisted amusement?”

“Of course.” You couldn’t help laugh as he fixed you with a playfully judgmental stare. “Who else would I share this masterpiece with for the first time?”

Maxi put a hand to his heart. “Lord, it must be true love.”

“I’m not hearing a ‘no’?” you teased.

He sighed theatrically. “Fine.” He pulled you over so you were leaning next to him against the embalming table, looking over your shoulder at your phone. “Let’s see what new terror the lady hath unleashed upon my poor funeral home.”

“She’s already put it out just under her name, not the whole band,” you said, pointing to the artist info. “I wonder if that means they didn’t like it?”

“There’s some story there, I’m sure,” he said idly. “Anyway. Get it over with.”

“You love me,” you reminded him, grinning as you hit the button.

“I do,” he muttered, over the opening strings.

The two of you held eye contact through the first bars, as if daring each other to be the first person to laugh —

And then as it picked up, something imperceptibly began to shift.

“And Lord I’m glad you didn’t

Pay me no attention

When I sent up a prayer of a child’s premonition —“

You were the first to look away, your face suddenly hot.

This wasn’t… what you expected it to be. At all.

“‘Cause I’ve had time to bloom

Plantin’ them roses instead

and I’m changin’ my tune —“

Your face was hot for reasons you couldn’t quite explain.

After a moment, processing what you were hearing, you caught yourself doing some mental math.

You had been young yourself, when the original song first came out. In what felt like another life, you’d sung along when it was on the radio: sometimes at a party with your friends in the ironic feeling of youthful invincibility, or in your car with a sour cast to the chorus as you headed to a job you thought you’d chosen poorly. Hell, on the really bad nights, you’d let yourself cry along to the sappy little tune when it really did feel like it would be better if you didn’t stick around.

Like the best use of your potential was to die young enough to still pass for pretty, with your whole life still in front of you, so you could be remembered for your everything you could have been -

Rather than everything you would eventually fail to be.

“Now I know that there’s no

Such thing as enough time —“

You were aware of the heat spreading over your eyes in a watery film. You held your breath, doing your best not to show that what you’d thought would be a weird funny thing to jokingly bug your partner with was… actually getting to you?

But suddenly you were too conscious of just how you’d changed between the last song and this one. How you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt totally, inescapably lost, when you spent so long thinking that was all you’d ever feel.

How you’d fallen in love with someone who wanted to share a life and a death with you after so long alone, and built a home with them you were proud of.

“I’ll pass my name on before it’s on my headstone —“

Cold fingers abruptly intertwined with yours, clutching your hand tightly.

Oh. So it wasn’t just you, then.

You heard the soft tap of Maxi’s finger on your touchscreen before he stood up fully, pulling you with him towards a more open part of the floor.

You hid your face in his waistcoat, trying not to let on just what you were going through on your end, but what you’d thought was a hug turned into more of… something with rocking.

Eventually, when you realized what he was doing, you couldn’t help a watery chuckle.

“I thought we agreed we weren’t the kind to dance,” you mumbled, not quite able to meet his eyes yet. You wanted a bit more of a handle on your composure, first. Or any handle on it at all. “Especially after the Masquerade.”

“Hell, this ain’t dancin’,” Maxi mumbled back, and from the way he kept his lips against your hair, you could tell he was maybe trying to get a grip too. “This is more… swayin’. To a beat. Anyone can do that. We can do that, right?”

You smiled despite yourself. “Sure.”

Stretching up, you wrapped your arms around his neck as he hugged your back, resting your foreheads against one another’s.

For a minute, it was just the cheesy little song on the speakers, and your hearts beating through your chests.

“And I’m so glad I’m here now

Instead of somewhere underground

I think I’ll always wanna stay

I guess it’s too late anyway

to die young —“

You were aware, in the periphery, of the song starting over - meaning Maxi must’ve set it to loop when he reached over to your phone. A soft smirk curled your lips before you realized it, and you instinctively searched for his eyes.

Your chest ached when you found them just as watery as yours, still somehow surprised by this. He managed a wavering fraction of his own smile, rolling his eyes at his tears. “Fine, you got me. You happy?” he joked. “Is this what you wanted? Makin’ me cry in the middle of a work day?”

You laughed, feeling your own tears break the waterline as you did so. “I didn’t mean to, I swear! I thought it was…” You trailed off, your throat trapping your words in the swell of your own feelings.

Maxi pressed his forehead back to yours. “I know.” He reached up with a fingertip, chasing away the tracks down your cheeks. “I know, Darlin’.”

You hugged his neck as hard as you could without hurting him, trying to get the words out.

“…I’m so glad I stayed.” Your voice cracked on the last word, reducing you to a whisper. “I didn’t want to for a long time, when I was younger.” You shook your head without being totally aware of it. “I didn’t think I would make it anywhere close to right now. But I’m so glad I stayed long enough for… all of this.” You gestured around at the prep room, feeling not even a little strange as you did so. “For you. For us.”

“Well, aren’t we a pair?” Maxi’s mouth couldn’t stay steady when he looked at you, so he rested his cheek on top of your head instead. For a long moment, you were lost in his scent, in the warmth of him and the solidity of his embrace before he spoke again.

“I hated who I was for… so long, sugar. What I had to be. I didn’t care if I stuck around. Hell, half the time, I think I was just lookin’ for somethin’ meaner to put me down so hard that it wouldn’t be worth tryin’ to bring me back. Tryin’ to be somethin’, someone… anyone else — it was the hardest thing I ever did. Whatever good I managed, I never thought it was enough. I kept waitin’ for it to all fall apart in front of me.” You felt the faintest trickle of something warm and wet into your hair. “But you make me so glad I tried anyway,” he whispered. “I thank whatever’s listenin’ every day that I didn’t get what I thought I wanted.”

You pushed down hard on the little sob trying to kick its way out of your chest. “I don’t care what you were,” you said, never tiring of repeating this to him. “So long as I get what you are, and what you will be.”

Maxi kissed the top of your head. “You got me,” he said softly. “And you will, always. I can promise you that.”

You leaned up, pressing a kiss to his cheek and coming away with the taste of salt on your lips. “…Well,” you said, managing to get your voice back to mostly normal. “Sorry I kind of came in and, uh, tanked your productive streak.”

Maxi chuckled low in his throat as he kissed your cheek in turn - where you swear you felt the smallest touch of his tongue, the weirdo. “Don’t worry about it, pretty,” he said, smiling as you laughed. “I got all the time in the world for you.”

So for a little more of that time, the two of you just danced.

Neither of you would admit just how much you liked this stupid song. Not for a good long while, anyway.

if you read this far, as always, thank you for humoring me 🖤 everything feels kind of impossible rn and I have family staying over which triples that feeling, so I just needed something soft :’D

if you want to have a listen for yourself, it probably won’t hit as hard as it did for me while I was PMSing in the wee hours, but feel free!

[liz-allyn]

heat of the moment, pt 6 - carpe diem (finale) [tasm!peter x reader x groundhog day au]

summary: everything ends, eventually.  angst; fluff; humor; final destination vibes; and yes this is in tribute to my favorite episode of television ever written - “mystery spot”

words: 11.6k

warnings: death. a lot of it. repeatedly. in this chapter: tw description of death by car accident, fire, drowning, asphyxiation, self h*rm, mass casualty event.

a/n - don't you hate it when stories just dump a ton of exposition in the last chapter? haha fuck

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6.

The sun had long set as you crouched down stealthily on a roof overlooking an industrial complex next to the Holland Tunnel. It was near the entrance on the New York side of the Hudson River, far from the dumpster you sought out. 

After leaving Claire, you had met Peter across town and inspected the burned-out site tediously. There wasn’t much left behind, save for a few singed sheets of paper nearby. Shipping invoices for an address on the other side of Manhattan. 

Alarms went off in your head at the perplexity of someone dumping their trash all the way over here. You were determined to follow this lead, and quickly. 

Working against time, you were now in pursuit. You gazed out over the street below as you studied the tall, rectangular, art deco-style, brick structure. The exteriors looked repainted and somewhat modernized, part of ongoing renovations to the Holland Tunnel, you figured. Now at the heart of the tallest building, a 50-foot-wide clock face doubled the size of ‘Big Ben,’ with golden dials that added to the aesthetic.

The clock face leered maliciously at you, like a hungry dragon perched on a tower. Like the hands would come alive, and spring out sharp teeth that gobbled you up.

What a way to go.

The face stares down at you, knowingly, like a proverbial ‘Eye of Sauron,’ meeting you at the edge of Mordor. The minute hand lurches past 10:50 to 10:51, reminding you of its quicksilver nature.

You’d never made it past 10:30 PM before. 

You’re deep behind enemy lines. 

Wearing the Spider suit, Peter swung to your position, his feet landing on the roof as gently as a cat’s. He crouched down to your level, lifting his mask from his sweaty face.

“Okay, so something is definitely off with that building,” Peter whispered. “It’s using a ton of power. Way more than any New York City building should.” He noted your distant look and silence, hypnotized by the ominous feeling the clock gave you. He eyed you suspiciously, “Exactly what are we looking for here?”

You pursed your lips, observing the slow crawl of vehicle traffic clogging itself into the tunnel. You could see the lights of a construction crew near the tunnel entrance. You smelled the heavy fumes of semi trucks trickling in between passenger vehicles. You felt the wind chilling the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Something bad,” you replied grimly.

Peter stared at you incredulously, brow furrowed, waiting for further explanation. The humor was beginning to evaporate from his mood, a heavy tension settling in between you. No further explanation followed.

“Okay,” he declared, more firmly now. “We’re done here.”

That caught your attention. He reached for you and you flinched back. “No, wait, we can’t leave!”

“Honestly, this has gone on far enough,” Peter replied with a serious tone, his mocha eyes filled with concern. “You start talking about time loops at breakfast and then you throw muffins at me and ghost me for hours, you won’t answer any of my questions, you can’t just lay shit out like that and not explain yourself—”

“We have to get inside that building.”

“Why?!” he snapped, temper flaring. You knew his frustration was branching from his anxiety, and you had to find a way to diffuse it.

“Something inside that building is affecting your abilities!” you whispered harshly. You were also losing control. “Why don’t you want to find out what it is?”

A deep crease formed in his brow, stubbornness feeding indignation. “Tell me why. Why can’t we just go home right now? Tell me the truth!”

You pulled your eyes away, dropping them to the ground. “We can’t go home, Peter,” you firmly stated, and it sounds like you’re admonishing a child.

“Tell me why right now, or I throw you over my shoulder—”

“Because I never make it back home alive!” you blurted out.

He blinks at you. Eyes narrow. Observes you. Brow furrows. Head tilts. Pupils go wide. Face pales. Heart rate increases. 

“What do yo—” the words trickle off, shrinking away as they leave his mouth. With them, they take the air from his lungs. His shoulders tense. “What does that— what are you talkin’ about? What’re you sayin’?” On reflex, he grasps at your arms. His face searches yours, betrayed.

You reach out for him, gripping his shoulders. It begins to ground him, but doesn’t release the building pressure. You steady yourself. Meet him in his own time.

“Peter, listen,” you softly cooed, “it’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.” 

He exhaled a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. His eyes looked like he was torn between the urge to argue, and the need to hold you. 

He swallowed hard, his fingers finding yours, gripping your hands like he used to hold his stuffed animals. “I don’t under—”

“What I’m about to say is going to freak you out, but we need to be on the same page about this,” you slowly explained. “Every day for the last... I don’t know how many... several-thousand Tuesdays... I wake up. And it’s Tuesday. And then, somehow, it ends with me dying. And then I wake up—and it’s Tuesday again.”

He stares. Eyes glazing black.

“Stay with me, Pete,” you pleaded, your hands cupping his cheeks. “I think whatever is causing this to happen is connected to something in that building.”

“No,” Peter said. Darkness enveloped his voice. “You’re not gonna die. Don’t say that.” He shook his head. An unsettling firmness crept into his tone.

“I have this feeling,” you explained, “that it’s all connected. The time loop. Your abilities not working right. The dying—”

“You’re not gonna die,” he asserted, with even more resolve.

You pursed your lips, falling silent. For a moment, you let yourself drown in the dark pools of his gaze. They’re like thick, dark storm clouds. Heavy blackness crackling with bolts of lightning. You read his face carefully, choosing your words delicately.

“I believe you,” you answered, finally. It was the truth. He studied your reaction too, and tension released from his shoulders slightly. “But we have to get into that building.”

He nodded once, swallowing back his anxiety, then took you by the shoulders. “But you’re not going in there. You’re staying put.”

You rolled your eyes. “Peter, we don’t have time for this!”

He shook his head, jaw firmly set. “I’m not doing this again.” He wasn't talking about last Tuesday.

“I am not Gwen,” your voice bellowed.

He went silent at her name, still dumbstruck by shame and grief. It was like you slapped him. He dropped his eyes to his feet, sorrow building steadily.

You softened your expression and your tone. “You aren’t the ‘you’ from then, either.”

The sharp, smooth line of his jaw quivered for just a moment, and you brushed your fingers along the freckles there. His lashes fluttered closed at the gesture. 

“I know that you’re afraid of what you’ll lose,” you whispered, featherlike. Like telling a secret. “I know you think it’ll break you. But I’ve seen the best and the worst of you, Peter Parker.” 

He looked up at you, and the utter endearment on your face was enough to take his breath away. It brought tears to his eyes. 

“I believe in you,” you stated. As certain as the sky is blue. “Every day. Forever. Even if you don’t believe in yourself. So please. Believe in me.”

Peter grimaced, fear piercing his chest. He pushed it down. He nodded. “Always.”

You held his gaze lovingly. Despite your predicament, you strangely wished you could freeze the moment.

“Okay,” you smirked, eyes bright. “Let’s do this. Remember, there’s no fate but what we make, right?”

You moved to stand, but he reached out and grabbed you. “Wait.” You glanced back at him, catching the puzzled look on his face. “When did you see Terminator?”

You quirked a brow, teasingly mysterious in your reply. “I’m a sci-fi nerd, now. What about it?”

11:14 PM

After careful effort, and more minutes than you wanted to lose, you made it inside to find your suspicions were correct. 

You were standing inside of a control room next to two knocked out, webbed-up security guards. You closely studied a vast array of CCTV monitors above you. Your boyfriend was hunched over a screen, listening intently to the conversations of plant workers—some of which he’d recognized as former science division employees of Oscorp. You recognized some of them too, from Alchemax. And Horizon Labs. And Roxxon.

“Okay,” you asked, glancing warily at the time. “Do we have any idea why these guys are all in this building? Was there a mad scientist convention or something?”

“Is it weird that I’m low-key, kinda offended that I didn’t even get an invite?” Peter grumbled, shaking his masked head bitterly. “Am I weird for thinking that? Is that bad?”

You gave him an incredulous glare. “I’m sure it’s in your spam folder.”

“It’s fine,” Peter flatly declared. It wasn’t fine. 

He uncrossed his arms to lean his weight on his palms, staring at one of the screens intently. “Here,” he noted, calling your attention to a computer screen visible on the security camera. “These are plans. They’re building something. We need to find out what.”

11:22 PM

Deeper inside the facility, you hid behind the door of a windowless office. Your palms were clammy, and sweat poured out of you. It wasn’t just the tension. It was the heat. A massive source of energy, Peter had explained, from some part of the building.

A bespectacled, bird-like, middle-aged man wearing a lab coat entered the office. You slammed the door behind him. Startled, he turned around and spotted you, a mix of confusion and growing alarm. He opened his mouth to yell just as two red gloves reached down around his head and clamped his jaw shut. 

You looked up at Spider-Man, dropping from his hiding place on the ceiling, as he muffled the screams of the captive. The scientist flailed uselessly in Peter’s arms, overcome with panic. You shuddered as you noted Spider-Man’s grip was little a rougher than normal.

“Spidey,” you soft admonished. He looked up at you and spotted the timid anxiety in your eyes. He took the hint.

Peter turned the captive scientist around and sat him down in his own desk chair. With a couple of webs he was bound to the fake leather padding. 

The man gaped up through wire-rimmed glasses at Spider-Man’s towering frame, his eyes wide with terror. Without being prompted, you reached into the pockets of the lab coat, snatching his ID badge off its lanyard. You pocketed several keys, metal and magnetic. You flipped through his wallet for clues.

Spider-Man kicked his leg up on the seat of the captive’s chair, leaning on his own thigh crassly. “Hey, buddy!” the vigilante greeted with a bright, cheery smile as you searched him. 

You glanced at the name on the scientist’s ID badge. “Joseph,” you supplied.

“Hey, Joe!” Spider-Man corrected. Despite the chipper tone, the muscles in his neck were pulled taught. He looked like a dog about to snap. “Whatcha buildin’ under here?”

Your boyfriend released the scientist’s mouth. His wild eyes darted anxiously between the two of you. ‘Joe’ attempted to calm himself down, stuttering as he sought out what’s left of his courage.

“Do you have any idea where you are?” he spat ferociously. “You two are screwed! You’re not getting outta here. You’re in way over your heads! I’m not telling you anything! You can’t make me talk—”

A web slapped over Joe’s mouth, gagging him. You shot your boyfriend an impatient glare. “We don’t have time for this,” you warned him.

Spider-Man kept his attention on his captive, shrugging his shoulders. “You heard the lady,” he said, almost apologetically. Peter dropped his foot from the chair and sidled up to the man, gripping his hair and yanking his head back. You flinched as you watched him brandish a blade and swipe at the webbing across the man’s mouth with cobra-like quickness. He sliced an opening in the gag, allowing his captive to breathe.

“Since we’re a little short on time, we’re gonna cut to the chase, yeah?” he explained, his pleasant-sounding demeanor coming short of masking the malice in his tone. “I’m Spider-Man. You’re a bad guy. And you caught me on a really weird day. So instead of hanging you by your ankles off the edge of a high-rise, or tossing you off the Statue of Liberty, or webbing you up over Fifth Avenue in nothin’ but your tighty-whities, I’m gonna fast-forward.” 

The vigilante tilted his head down until he was directly in front of Joe’s face, lowering his voice to a serpent’s hiss. “You’re going to tell me what you’re building here, or I’ll end you. Simple as that.”

You flicked your eyes to Spider-Man, shifting your weight between your feet. You squeezed your eyes closed, pushing images of Peter’s rage from your anxious thoughts. 

“Keep in mind, I can hear your heart beat,” your boyfriend sneered, looming over his captive. “I can tell what it sounds like if you’re lying. I can hear my own heart, too. Wanna know what it sounds like right now?”  

The scientist stared back blankly as beads of sweat trickled down his forehead, eyes as wide as saucers. 

Spider-Man tilted his head, lowering the opaque lenses of his mask closer. “Murder.”

The single word hung in the air like the toll of a bell, or the echoing crack of thunder. Thick black toxic smoke that threatened to choke them. Your stomach twisted, recognizing that his teasing savagery was more than simple posturing. You’d seen him like this before. You had experience in keeping an eye on the pressure gauge.

You glanced at the clock on Joe’s desk. 

11:24 PM

“Please,” you blurted out, unsure to whom you were speaking. Maybe to anyone who would listen.

“Here it is,” Spider-Man declared. “The one and only time I’m gonna ask. What supervillain’s new gadget are you building here?”

The quivering man stared at him, dumbstruck, slowly turning so white he’d eventually camouflage into the walls. “You-you got this all wrong...” he stuttered.

“How so?” Spider-Man didn’t miss a beat. “Details, Joe.”

“...Claire?”

Your surprised tone snapped both men's attention back to you. You stood at the scientist’s desk, eyes fixed on a photo frame. You picked it up, gazing down at the faces in shock.

Joe’s demeanor changed instantly. Any sense of bravado he had evaporated. “That’s my daughter’s name,” he gulped, pulse thumping in his throat. “How-how do you know my daughter’s name?”

You stared down at the photo of your beautiful Grim Reaper, flanked by a woman you had come to recognize as her mother and the man currently webbed to a chair. The photo was taken on a bright sunny day, Yankee Stadium in the background. Claire looked much younger than she did now, as did both of her parents. Not just younger—brighter. More hopeful. More alive. 

Your mouth hung open as you glanced up at the captive. “Joseph Rivers? You’re Claire’s father?”

Dr. Rivers looked up at Spider-Man, his face going pale. “Please,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “She doesn’t ha-have anything to-to do with this mess. Leave her out of this. I beg you.”

Peter met your eyes, and although you couldn’t see his face, you knew he was confused. You didn’t tell him about Claire today, or any of the times she’d tried to kill herself.

Your gaze dropped down to Dr. Rivers. “Do you have any idea what your daughter’s been doing today?”

He looked perplexed. “I... I—” 

“Do you know she tried to commit suicide?” you snapped, marching up to his chair. He flinched at the information, a lightning bolt shooting to his heart. You crossed your arms, glaring down at him indignantly. “And where were you?” 

You know it’s judgmental. You know it’s unfair. But this was Claire. And Tuesday had given you enough insight into her life to feel like defensive, after everything.

“I—” Rivers was still opening and closing his mouth like a fish. “I don’t... They don’t let us have our phones—I mean, I-I knew she had troubles before...” His throat tightened, chest constricting, “Is-is she okay?” He looked heartbroken. Terrified. You saw Peter’s shoulders slump, head turning away.

You watched Rivers through narrowed lids, but you couldn’t deny the agony in his question. The fear in his face. “For now,” you answered. “Because I saved her. But she needs real help.” You leveled your gaze. “And so do we, Mr. Rivers.”

Rivers looked back up at Spider-Man, still observing the side of his mask. The masked vigilante was unable to meet his gaze. He looked over at you again, reading your resolve. His eyes dropped to the photo frame in your hands, his chin clenching. Eyes also filled with shame.

“It’s a weapon,” Rivers declared. “They tell us it’s not, but I’m not stupid. We all know what it is.”

“What kind of weapon?” Peter asked, facing him again.

“You ever heard of Havana Sickness?” Rivers asked him. “Well, that was version one.” 

Your eyes ping-ponged between the two scientists. “Can somebody translate?”

Peter explained, his gaze fixed on Rivers, as he provided you context. “Few years ago a group of diplomats started getting sick in Havana. Nausea, dizziness, ringing in the ears—all the way up to sudden, unexplained pain and trouble with cognition. Nobody ever found out what caused it. Some people think it was all in their heads, others think it was some kind of staged attack.”

“A directed energy weapon,” Rivers revealed, his voice grave. “And now it’s been perfected. This one is far more advanced than anything that’s ever been built. Electromagnetic waves charged by plasma. Its power is unprecedented.”

“Sounds rad,” Peter snipped flatly. “Probably worth a pretty penny to the highest bidder. Speaking of which. Whose bankrolling this, Joey? Is it Fisk? Is it the Osbournes?”

Rivers let out a bitter laugh. “You’re joking, right?” He stared at you incredulously. “You think you’re dealing with some greasy, mob boss? Some corporate shenanigans?” 

You and Peter glanced at each other. 

“Look around you, kids!” Rivers spat. “We’re in a secret underground base underneath the Hudson River, for godssake. This whole operation is run by Uncle Sam. It’s the fucking C.I.A., you dimwits.”

You stared at him, stunned and silent. 

Peter threw his arms in the air in exasperation. “I don’t believe it! Seriously?” He spun in a circle, hands landing on his head, then faced Rivers again, jabbing his finger in his face.

“Okay. Number one. Rude," he said, clipped. Just because I wasn’t invited to your little World of Warcraft campaign doesn’t make me an idiot, got that?” Your shot a withering look at the back of your boyfriend’s head.

“Second:” he continued, with a disgusted tone. “Billions of dollars and almost all of the greatest minds in the world and the G-Men are using this—for what—a new toy? What, did Santa not bring you guys enough guns for Christmas?!”

Rivers argued, “Technology like this would make nuclear war obsolete! It could stop any intercontinental ballistic missile—safely—miles above the Earth’s atmosphere.”

“Could also burst the eardrums of some unruly protestors,” Peter criticized with disdain. He crossed his arms, glaring down at the scientist suspiciously. “Destabilize a few unfriendly governments?”

“Burn the tiny hairs off a spider?” You asked, finally interrupting the quarrelling men. Rivers and Peter gave you a look.

You sighed, “This is exciting and all, but I can’t reiterate how much time for this shit I don’t have!” You glared at Rivers impatiently. “Congratulations, Doc. The weapon you’re building also tears a hole in the space-time continuum. Well done. Now would you please just tell us where it is, so we can pull the plug?”

The older man glanced back and forth between you. “You… can’t…?”

“It was a figure of speech, man,” Peter snapped at him. “She doesn’t actually think there’s a power cord—”

“No, what I mean is it’s already been built,” Dr. Rivers explained. “You’re too late. It’s on a truck leaving now.”

11:41 PM

This is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. You’re certain of it. 

And it may very well be the last thing you ever do. 

You watch helplessly as the box truck carrying the Weapon of the Future is driven into the tunnel. Your boyfriend (who left you behind to stay put) is attached to the top of it, in an attempt to steal it. 

You think on that again. 

Your boyfriend, Spider-Man, is going to steal one of the most advanced weapons the world has ever known, from the C.I.A.

This is only the second stupidest thing he’s ever done. The top spot was recently awarded when he webbed you to Rivers’ desk and left you behind. For your safety. 

As if you didn’t have your own pocket knife on you, to free yourself from the webbing.

You had run outside just to see the unmarked white truck entering the tunnel. There was no way of catching up to it on foot.

So. Here you are, contemplating the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. 

You see a stationary police cruiser, brake lights on, engine running. Waiting in line to enter the tunnel. You recognize the single occupant in the front seat. 

“Y’know, Cage,” you declare as you saunter up to the open drivers’ side window, “you really gotta stop working doubles.” The rookie officer flinched at the sound of your voice, turning towards you in utter confusion. “Just because your wife threw you out doesn’t mean you don’t need sleep.”

He gazed at you, jaw falling open, white as a ghost. 

You reached forward and gripped the back of his head, slamming his nose into his own steering wheel. 

He hissed in pain as you opened the drivers’ side door and reached down towards his belt. You unclipped his service arm pistol, pointing it at him. Like you’d done it 1,000 times before. 

Officer Cage froze in horror, staring up at the barrel of his own gun, stunned at your speed and dexterity. Doing that never failed to give you a rush. 

“Out,” you ordered.

Hands raised, he pulled himself out of his seat and stood awkwardly next to his car. You hopped in the drivers’ seat and flipped the switch to turn on the emergency lights. 

Like you’d done it 1,000 times before. 

Perplexed, Officer Cage watched you incredulously, as you leaned out of the window and tossed his weapon back at him. 

The second it landed in his hands, he’d accidentally pulled the trigger. But no bullet was fired.

“I emptied it,” you explained. 

He looked at you like you were a witch. 

“Maybe spend some more time on the range first?” you offered gently, shifting the car into gear. “And maybe in some therapy, too?” You stepped on the gas pedal, leaving him in the dust. 

You swerved, driving around the heavy congestion of vehicles, entering the tunnel. Sirens wailing.

11:43 PM

Peter held on tightly to the roof of the cargo hold as the truck drove around the traffic, allowed by the tunnel construction crew to pass. He honestly started to wonder if the tunnel was really under construction at all, or if it was all some elaborate hoax.

Maybe you were right, he thought. Maybe everything is connected and therefore nothing is nothing and we’re all pawns living in some sort of simulated plan.

“God, I really need to touch some grass,” he groaned through gritted teeth, as he ducked his head beneath the overhanging signs of the tunnel. 

11:44 PM

You saw the truck ahead of you. You toggled the police car’s sirens, switching it to a piercer effect. 

The short bursting yelps must have caught the driver’s attention, because you saw brake lights flash. Then, they turned off as the truck sped up. Your stomach sank.

“No, no...” 

You could see the lanky limbs of your boyfriend flail as he struggled to get a better grip on the roof of the vehicle. You sighed, biting your lip with trepidation. The device wasn’t even on and already he was becoming less sticky. The truck dashed on, weaving around vehicles, disappearing from sight. You stepped on the gas and tried to catch up.

What you could not see, what Peter could not see, and—tragically— what the truck driver could not see, was the debris in the road. 

A six-inch steel ratchet that had fallen off of one of the construction trucks.

For any speeding vehicle, running over it would’ve resulted in a missing hubcap and a bent rim.

For a 26-foot box truck weighing 15 tons, traveling at 67 miles per hour through a crowded construction zone, the result was catastrophic. 

You watched, wide-eyed, as the truck jolted in front of you. 

It was simple math. 

Peter was knocked loose as the vehicle swerved like a serpentine from left to right, side-swiping vehicles on both sides. 

Every variable locked firmly in place.

Spider-Man was thrown into the hood of a stalled vehicle. You screamed as you watched his body crush the windshield. You slammed on the brakes. 

The unchanging constant. The outcome was inevitable.

Everything else that followed was like a choreographed dance.

A symphony written by fate. Every note falling into place, crescendoing to a deafening disaster.

The truck swerves. Pitches. Thrown off balance.

Road construction workers turn and shout. 

Another truck is stopped in the path. The cargo filled with flammable gasses.

There’s a collision.

A spark. A bright light.

A shockwave.

11:47 PM

Outside the tunnel, Officer Cage pauses from his frantic shouts into his radio. He turns and sees a bright light shooting out of the entrance. The shockwave that follows jolts cars, bursts glass, sets off alarms, and moves the Earth beneath his feet. 

The clockface of the Holland Tunnel ventilation tower is jarred, the hands jerking loose. The arms drop.

The time now says it’s 1:21. But it's wrong. Everything about this is so wrong.

There is no time left.

Cage turns pale as the tunnel entrance crumbles like a sandcastle, sealing all the vehicles inside. 

Another burst of light erupts. This one from the middle of the river.

11:47 PM

You’re gripping the steering wheel, and then you’re upside down, slamming into the roof. You taste blood and glass and metal.

Everything is white. You reach up to shield your eyes, but you can’t.

The light is blinding, shooting through your flesh like an x-ray. You can see right through your hands, observing every bone, vein, and capillary. 

Then.

Darkness.

“It was the HEAT of the MOMENT...”

No.

“...Tellin’ me.  what.  my. HEART meant...”

No, no, no, I need more time!

“...The HEEEAT of the MOMENT…

Showed in your EYEEEES…”

Your eyes pop open as you are viciously ripped away from the darkness. They burn instantly from the smoke.

Your senses are assaulted by the smell of blood and gasoline and salt water. Screams and sirens invade your ears.

“It was the HEAT of the MOMENT...”

Your bleary eyes struggle to adjust to the shadows, dark shapes taking form. You see an orange flickering glow. Punctuated with flashes of red and blue. Flames. Voices call out. Echoing. Steady horn blasts. Car alarms shrieking. The shrill cacophony of dozens of personal safety alarms—PASS devices, as Tuesday had taught you—magnify as they bounce off the concrete. 

There’s a roaring sound, too. Like a train passing. 

A sheet of crushed glass blocks your view. It looks like ice and snow, like you could reach out and wipe it off the windshield. 

You remember that you’re in the police car. 

You’re on your chest. You know your ribs are broken. You’re used to the pain.

“Tellin’ me.  what.  my. HEART meant...”

Peter. You have to find Peter.

“The HEEEAT of the MOMENT…

Showed in your EYEEEES…”

You hate this fucking song.

You push yourself up, crawling over the inverted dashboard, pulling yourself along with bloody fingers. You kick the shattered windshield out, feeling the sharp heat of crushed glass cutting into your leg. It’s no matter. If you have air left in your lungs, you have to find Peter.

When you crawl out, you’re drenched in freezing water. Your feet slosh in it as it crawls up your ankles. You take a shaky breath, and immediately sputter. Your ribs are definitely broken. And the air burns your lungs when you breathe.

You look up, trying to get your bearings. Look around. 

This is the worst, you think. This is the absolute worst. 

But no one will ever have to take your word for it, you realize. 

History will be more telling.

Around you, it’s pandemonium. 

The lights in the tunnel have gone out, save for headlamps and flashing lights of work vehicles. The red and blue police lights from your overturned cruiser are among them. And there’s fire, all around you, at both ends of the tunnel. Pockets of blackness in between the bonfires. 

It reminds you of war. Of war movies depicting the aftermath of the Blitz. Of grainy film footage of napalm swallowing a landscape, like somebody took the Sun and poured it out on a jungle.

The smell is awful and it makes you want to gag. Burnt rubber. Burnt hair. 

Dozens of cars and trucks, some of them crumpled like empty soda cans, all of them burning thick pillars of black smoke. The smoke looms across the tunnel ceiling. You can’t even see the ceiling tiles. Above you, there’s a boiling sky of black clouds. 

You hear the chorus of shouts. Shrill shrieks reverberating off the cement and tile. It sounds like people are being tortured. Like giant Grizzly bears must be ripping people apart. Disembodied voices screech for help, for God, for missing loved ones. You think you can hear an infant crying. Selfishly, you just want them to be quiet.

In the distance, the deep rumbling roar continues, like standing next to a jet engine. You also hear the echo of a synthesized keyboard riff, the wailing of an electric guitar. Asia rings out over the tinny squawk of car speakers from a battered minivan nearby. 

Because of course it fucking would be.

Massive chunks of concrete and twisted steel litter the broken asphalt. The whole roadway is flooded. A steady icy current claws at your calves, threatening to push you off balance. 

Immediately, you hear shrieks at your left, louder than the ones in the distance. You spot the figure of a man who has just woken up from the blast. 

Awful timing on his part. 

He’s engulfed in flames, burning alive. His lower half is pinned beneath an SUV. He looks like the squirming wick of a candle. The screams tear at your soul. You yank your eyes away. Your first instinct is to look for a rock to put him out of his misery. He’d thank you for it. 

Another sound jars you, the crumbling collapse of a wall nearby. You hear several sharp pops. You struggle to see through the dark. Melted bodies clad in safety orange glow clothing are right beside you. The water crests over them.

You look up towards the popping noises. Ceiling tiles, you realize. Water shoots into the tunnel under the immense pressure.

You squint beyond the dark, your eyes stinging from the acid clouds. Through the smoke and shadow you can see a wall. It’s moving. Your heart nearly seizes as you connect it to the roaring sound. 

It’s the sound of the Hudson River, pouring into the tunnel, waves crashing into the new underground cavern.

“Peter!” you shriek. Eyes darting around, remembering that you saw him fall. You turn around towards the opposite end of the tunnel. There’s nothing but rock and ash and burning metal behind you. And more screams, echoing in the dark. 

The tunnel must have collapsed, you realize. You wonder how many cars were buried beneath the rubble. Could be hundreds.

Your heart slams in your chest. You wonder if Peter is buried among them.

“Peter?” you scream, more panicked. 

Your voice cracks, and you know you’re not hoarse yet. You know it’s the carbon monoxide, the formaldehyde, the cyanide—the fatal cocktail of poison billowing around you. You can taste it in the air. You have minutes maybe.

It’s getting harder to see. You don’t want the darkness. The hellish chorus bouncing off of the cave of the tunnel. You’re struggling to hear his voice. You don’t want the quiet. 

You hear your name. Like a ray of sunshine.

You hear it again. Your boyfriend’s voice rings out.

“Peter!” you call out to him. 

In the shadows, a lanky figure stumbles out. You can barely make out the red-and-blue of his suit. His mask is off, he clutches the remnants of it in his bloody fist. It looks like he’s been dragged underneath a vehicle. The space shuttle, maybe.

He limps, his suit filthy and torn. A mix of sweat, blood, and soot coat his face and hair. 

But you can see his eyes. Black holes ripping galaxies apart. You feel a rush of relief as you wade through the water towards him.

“Peter!�� you sob, unaware of when you started crying.

He spots you, and he might as well have dropped to his knees with tearful praise. “Thank god,” he gasps. He darts to you, sloshing through the water with his limp. As soon as he reaches you, he grabs ahold of you like he’s never going to let you go. You don’t want him to. 

His hands expand around the sides of your face like blinders, blocking out horrors that he didn’t want you to see. “You’re bleeding,” he exclaims, studying you carefully.

Blood streaks down the right of your face from a gash at your hairline. It’s not as bad as it looks, but now you’re aware of the pain. You don’t mind it too much. You’re mystified by his freckles. Your thumbs idly come up to wipe away the mud on them, wiping away some of his tears as well.

“Bug, look at me, are you okay?” Peter pleads. He’s still searching your face, unaware of how bad the damage is. 

The terror in his throat snaps you from your daze. You nod, salty tears stinging your wounds, as you bury your face in his chest. Your voice shakes. “I thought you were gone—”

He pulls you upright, his hands planted on the sides of your head as he steadies you. “I’m here,” Peter declares. It’s a promise. “I’m gonna get you outta here, alright?”

Your eyes widen, remembering the futility of your situation. You glance around, sparing another look to the chaos around you. 

Peter lets go of your cheeks to grip one of your coat sleeves. With a yank, he rips the fabric of the arm at the seam, clean from the shoulder. You watch in a haze, as he rolls the torn sleeve off of your arm, dipping it in the water below.

“Put this to your mouth!” he instructs, handing you the wet fabric. He has to shout over the roar of the water. “It’ll help with the smoke. We’re downwind right now. We gotta get below the flames.”

You know that’s a gross oversimplification of your current predicament. And you want to protest, because what about his lungs? But you follow his orders.

You glance from left to right, as does he. It’s pitch blackness away from the fire and water. You’re pinned between rock and river.

He holds your hand, tight enough to hurt. The shouting has begun to diminish now, which brings you no relief. You realize you can’t hear the baby anymore. You can't stop crying. You wonder what Peter must be feeling, and hope that his senses are still dampened. 

“C’mon,” he pulls you closer to the water side. That way leads further underground, but you understand the physics of it. Smoke rises, and the tunnel is acting like a chimney. Choosing to instinctively go back the way you came, to try to dig through the mass of rubble closer to the exit, would mean death by asphyxiation in less than two minutes.

You sludge through the frigid water. It’s waist-deep now, swirling around you. The further you descend the higher it gets. Peter grips you tight. It’s the only thing that keeps you from losing your mind. 

“Please help! Somebody help!”

You freeze in your steps and need your whole weight to keep Peter from pulling you along. You search frantically, recognizing that voice.

“Please, somebody help! I’m stuck!”

You see a crumpled taxi tossed on its side, teetering dangerously on a pile of rubble. Water bubbles up around the cab. Chewed fingernails with chipped polish reach out through a small gap, waving frantically. 

“Claire,” you breathe, stunned. You watch with wide eyes as the woman you saved earlier that Tuesday flails, trapped in the crushed taxi. The steel cages her in. Black water steadily creeps up around her. “Claire!”

“Help, please, I can’t move! I can’t—!” You hear coughing, gargling. 

“Peter, she’s stuck!” You point, and look up at him. The look on his face breaks your heart. He’s overwhelmed. He’s terrified. He looks at you, looks at the cab. He’s being torn apart inside. You’re asking him for too much. 

You pull away, “C’mon, help me!” Reluctantly, he moves with you, releasing your hand. He moves faster than you through the water, standing taller in the depths.

You reach the taxi as Claire’s screams become more panicked. The car is beneath boulders of concrete. You attempt to climb up on the cab. 

“Stay back!” Peter tells you. “This whole thing’s unstable!” The water is swarming, rising. Boiling, frigid, black death threatening to swallow the cab up. 

“Please, please, please,” Claire is babbling. You can barely see her bloodied face between the bars of her cage. “I-I can’t move my legs, please… I can’t—”

Peter works quickly above you to clear the rubble. “Hey, it’s me!” You tell her, your voice bright and placating. “Remember me? It’s okay. We’re here. Spider-Man’s here and we’re gonna get you out—“

Claire’s voice is weak, she’s barely able to speak between giant gasps of air. “Please, don’t—donwanna die… don’t wanna die, please I don’t want—”

You grip her hand tightly in yours. Tears sting your eyes. “Peter!”

“I’m goin’ I’m goin’!” He’s using his whole body to lift and loosen the rubble from the taxi.

The ground beneath you quakes. A rumble. Suddenly, you drop. You fall backwards to the water as the mound that the taxi is teetering on collapses. The taxi drops beneath the waterline. 

A web snatches your shoulder, keeping you above water, though the vacuum of air caused by the displacement threatens to drag you under. Peter plucks you from the water, suspending you by the web. 

“Be right back,” he huffs, like it’s nothing. He dives back in after the submerged taxi. 

You watch him disappear into the blackness, and can’t help but feel overwhelming horror at being left alone. It makes you feel ashamed. After the longest few seconds of your life, he reemerges. A body with sopping corn silk hair flops over his shoulder. 

He climbs back up to you and you drop from the web onto the hood of a floating car. The space between you and the ceiling is dramatically lower. You’re barely able to see him through the smoke. He hoists Claire up and lays her on the floating car, and you crawl towards her, putting your face to hers.

Her eyes are wide. Still. You have to be inches from her face to be able to see her terror-stricken look. 

“She’s gone,” Peter tells you, his heart breaking a little more as he says it.

You’re leaning over her dead body, seeing her bluish face for the 10,000th time. And you’re shrieking her name. Sobs wracking your body. The whole tunnel vibrates with your howls.

And that song. The notes melting away. The chorus drowns as its pulled under the river.

“C’mon, we gotta go!” Peter pleads. He grabs you by the arm. It’s not a request. He’s getting you out of there. Somehow. “We gotta climb—”

A horrible groan roars above you. You look up to see a piece of the ceiling moving downwards. It’s hurtling towards you, like a giant asteroid. Your extinction is imminent.

Peter pushes you out of the way.

You plunge back into the water, and it feels like a thousand needles pricking your skin. You open your eyes, which was a mistake, because you’re nearly blinded by the chemicals and salt water. You kick for your life. Your shoes feel like bricks, but you kick until you break the surface.

You gasp and choke and sputter. “Peter!” You gag and cough. “Peter!”

You open your eyes and you're still in Hell. Only blurrier. Darker. So quiet. No more babies. No more anyone.

You hear your name again. His voice chirps out. You look up and see the devil in question. The sight of him reels you in like a gravitational pull. You crawl over broken glass and rock and metal until you’re beside him.

Despite being half dead, your heart flutters at the sight of him—a glowing freckled face. Sparkling amber eyes. Messy crown of brunette hair, sopping wet with saltwater, motor oil, and blood.

He looks at you from the side, deliriously dazed and huffing with exhaustion.

Once he sees your face, he grins wide. Soft. Reminds you of the bright warmth of your bedsheets.

“Sunflower…” he breaths. He sounds dreamy. He sounds exhausted. His smile dims. “You’re bleeding...”

“I’m okay,” you sputter and cough, trembling from the cold and adrenaline. You're higher up now, near the ceiling of the tunnel. You can feel the water creeping up your back. Your eyes scan his face, attempting to see his freckles through the building smoke. You wrap your hands around his face just to know he’s there. “I’m okay, I’m okay... We have to get out of here, baby—Are you okay?”

“I’m good,” he nods, but he isn’t moving fast enough. He looks so tired. “Need— n-need explos...ves.” He shutters, the cold piercing him. “C-cop car. Look—look in the trunk. Needa... explosion. Flash grenade. R-road flares...” He grimaces sharply. You can’t take your eyes off the softness of his lips. “Ch-check f-for pressurized can-canister—”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying—”

“Need to create an explosion... at the ho-hole, wh-where the water... C-create a vacuum—”

“There’s nothing, Peter, there’s no cop car, it’s underwater—”

“You need to go,” he states, and you fall silent. You stare at his lips. Blood tints them. You shake your head. Pull at his arms.

Your whole body shakes. Your eyes are hard. “We don’t have time, Pete. We have to get out—c’mon, we have to go—”

Your icy fingers grip at the warmth beneath his chest. They tug at him frantically. You mean to pull him up with just your thumbs if you have to.

“Bug,” he blinks at you. Tears fill in his eyes. 

Your hands are warm. Burning hot. You look down. And that’s when you see the spear lodged in his side. A half-inch wide black, twisted piece of rebar piercing his chest. Your mouth falls open at the sight. It’s needled through his ribcage, piercing the back, slicing through his lung in a way that you can physically feel. Phantom pain from past experience. 

Peter Parker’s blood coats your palms. You can’t handle this pain. It’s too much.

You look down at him, head shaking furiously. He silently mouths your name, a hopeless apology. You don’t even know what he’s apologizing for.

“You ha-have to...go,” he chokes out. There’s more blood spilling from his lips. It’s harder for him to breathe. The water creeps up your shoulders, and threatens to drown you both. He’s going to drown before you, you realize, in his own blood.

“Pl-Please,” he says, voice breaking, “please ge-get out of here. Pl-please g-go.”

You shake your head. You grip his hands like holding onto the edge of a cliff. You hold tight, as if that could keep him with you. As if it could bring you more time.

“Ba-baby, please go... Please just go... Please, pro-promise me... you’ll get out of here...”

He’s fading, you realize, and you want to scream into the void. You want to headbutt the rebar and lodge it through your eye socket. Your chest heaves. You squeeze his hands tightly.

You nod your head. Realize that he doesn’t know what you know. He hasn’t seen what you’ve seen. There’s no way out of the tunnel. There’s no saving you. Either of you.

You nod. And he relaxes. “Just go... without me,” he pleads. His hard to hear him over the roar. You nod silently, tears roll down your face. 

“Mmm—m'sorry... so-so sorry—”

You’re still nodding as he fights to keep his eyes open. You pledge with your gaze. You promise him that you’ll survive. You lie. 

The light is gone. In his eyes, and in the tunnel. His grip loosens in your hold. The water crawls up your chin, and your head hits hard rock. You don’t want to let go. You don’t want to look away.

The water takes him, but you’re still holding onto his hands.

“It should’ve been me,” you cry. To yourself. Alone. In the dark. Underwater. It's the last thing you get to say.

You’re fighting to keep your eyes open, to see through the murky depth. You want to remember every freckle on his face, even as they’re drenched in tears. Darkness settles in anyway.

It’s hard to see how beautiful he is in the dark. 

Your lungs burn. There’s nowhere to go.

It should’ve been you. Not Peter. 

Every cell in your body screams at you, telling you it should’ve been you. You open your mouth to scream back. A heart-wrenching yowl. Water fills your mouth and your lungs.

You want to wake up. You want to go home. You want to go back. You want anything but this. 

Why aren't you waking up?

Elsewhere, above the Hudson.

A clock turns.

11:59...

TUESDAY, 7:00am

Your eyes popped open as you were viciously ripped away from the darkness. Music invaded your ears, your senses assaulted by a toe-tapping tune.

“It was the HEAT of the MOMENT

Tellin’ me.  what.  my. HEART meant

The HEEEAT of the MOMENT…

Showed in your EYEEEES…”

You opened your mouth wide and let the air fill your lungs. You can still feel the heat. You can smell the water. You gaze up at the stark white of your ceiling as giant tears flood your vision.

Tuesday.

Tuesday again.

You laid there. Shook with an odd mix of horror and relief. It was like waking from the most vivid nightmare of your life. Visions and sounds latched onto you like leeches. You cried silently like a child, cradled by your soft pillows and bedding. The only thing that keeps you from screaming out hysterically is the grounding feeling that comes with faith. Unquestionable. Undeniable.

You will die today.

It’s gospel. Inevitable. You’re supposed to die today. Not just you, you know now, through divine revelation. So many others. 

Regardless of how you meet your fate, nothing will prevent that horrific weapon from leaving that facility. The truck will drive into the tunnel. It will hit that debris. It will crash. And everyone in the tunnel will die.

Including Peter.

That is how the day ends, should you be alive to see it. That’s how his life ends. 

“Mornin’, Sunflower!” a pleasant voice rang out from your en suite bathroom. A moment later, Peter Parker’s head poked around the corner. His expression serenely naive of your gory last moments. 

Your heart shattered at the sight of him—a glowing freckled face, his sparkling amber eyes, a beautifully mischievous smile, and a messy crown of brunette hair. 

The memory of his dead face sliced through you. 

You looked away, grimacing. Sat up in bed, tears welling in your eyes.

You know what’s going to happen and you know what you have to do. No matter how painful. 

Today is the last day of the end of your life. 

“Babe?” he questioned, appraising you with a fading smile. He sensed your distress. He could smell your tears. “What’s the matter? You okay?” 

You stared at the blankets for a long while, your weight leaning back on the heels of your palms. You remained still, contemplative. The silence goes on longer than he is comfortable with.

You turned your face toward him, eyes sorrowful. 

“I’m breaking up with you, Peter.” 

It was quiet at the top of the Empire State Building. That’s why it was his favorite spot. Hair slicked with sweat, cheeks damp with salty streams of tears. Tragically, only sort of drunk. Peter’s mask was discarded beside him, next to an empty 3-liter bottle of McCormack’s. 

He took a swig from an identical bottle, nearly empty as well. Sourness set heavily on his tongue and it made him even more bitter. He couldn’t even afford the good stuff.

Fucking loser.

He swallowed down the acid water with disdain and self-contempt.

In his other hand, he toyed with the velvet box he kept hidden in his bedside drawer. Today, of all days. 

He was past the shock. Past the denial. Past bargaining. Somewhere between anger and depression. Actually, he was a mix of all of the emotions. 

You’d killed him. Crushed him. Murdered him in less than 100 words. A shot straight to the heart, without batting an eye. You were the deadliest assassin he’d ever known. You were savage, the cruelest villain he’d ever faced. 

You were his everything. He was the problem. 

That’s what you’d told him, swinging the axe down and cutting your ties. He was always gone. He was always late. He was always Peter Parker. 

Peter Parker would always be Spider-Man. 

And that was the nail in the coffin. That was reason enough. The killing blow.

As stunned as he was, he was almost… relieved. He knew this day would come. He knew you were too good for him, too good to be true, and this was a natural progression of that.

He always knew would lose you. He was grateful that at least he wasn’t standing over your grave this time. 

He didn’t know how long he’d been crying. He wasn’t sure what time it was. Time was meaningless.

The buzz of his phone was the first thing that broke him from his pity party. He flinched as he frantically dug for the advice.

Shamefully, he prayed that you were calling him to tell him you changed your mind. Or your conversation this morning was part of an elaborate hoax. The world’s greatest ‘punking.’ Ashton Kutcher springs out of nowhere. He’d happily laugh it off. He’d chuckle like a fool and rush home to scoop you up in his arms. Sick burns and all.

Fingers fumbling, he accepted the call and slapped the phone to the side of his face.

The whimper of his voice was pathetic. Truly. “Bug?” 

Fucking loser.

“Peter?” A middle-aged woman’s voice shattered his hopes.

Confused, he pulled the phone away to look at the screen: KIM MANNERS.

Fuck. Your mom had his number. He knew it was a risk, reaching out behind your back. She’d been calling him all week, adding steadily to the pressure of his upcoming proposal. No wonder she drove you crazy. She’s probably wanting details about when he was going to pop the question. 

Fuckkkk.

“Peter? Are you there?”

He put the phone back to his ear, and briefly considered throwing his phone off of the Empire State Building. 

With a flayed voice, he replied, “Hi, Mrs. Manners.”

“Peter? Where are you? What’s going on?” She sounded like a parrot. A parody of a typical New England voice. “What happened?”

Fuck fuck fuck fuckidity—

“Sorry, Mrs. Manners, I-I was gonna call—”

“Peter,” your mother interrupted with a sultry tone. If he wasn’t such an idiot he’d recognize the cougar purr of her voice, “you know I told you to call me Kim.” 

He squeezed his eyes shut, his head pounding. Not just from the alcohol. “Ugh, yeah—” He tried not to make it sound like a gag reflex, but it crept out anyway. “Yeasshh, I, uh, sorry, I gotta little tied up—”

Ew! Gross, noo, fuckfuckfuck.

“Now’s not a good—”

“Is my daughter with you?” 

FAHHHHHK… She doesn’t know? Of course she wouldn't. She's not subscribed to the 'Watch Peter Parker Get Fucked Again This Week' Newslet—

Ahh! No! Gross! Ew! “Uhm… no, I—”

“Do you know where she is? She’s not answering her phone.” 

“I… I-I don’t think she wants to talk right now—”

“I think something weird is going on,” Kim blurted, still oblivious to the fact that Peter had spent the last few hours sobbing on roofs of several New York landmarks.

The concern in her voice pricked the skin on the back of his neck. He stiffened, his spinal column locking in place. Peter shook his head confusedly, “I’m… I’m not sure what you—”

“Peter, listen to me, I know my daughter. I think something is wrong.”

Peter felt faint all of a sudden. “Waddya mean? What’re ya—what’re you sayin’?”

“I think she’s in trouble,” she explained. “She left me a weird message. She can be so moody sometimes. She gets that from her father. I can sense these things, y’know. I’ve always told people I have a sixth sense about this stuff. You know, my grandmother said she could—”

His heart is pounding, threatening to break through his chest. “Wait, wait, wait, what do you mean ‘trouble?’ What message? What did she say exactly?”

Silence on the other end of the line. Peter felt like he was going to vomit.

“She said that she loved me, and she was sorry,” Kim finally said, with an exasperated tone. Equal parts embarrassment and concern. “And that she forgave me.” She said the last part with a growing sense of dread. 

“And she called me ‘Mom.’”

Peter’s mouth hung open, every cell in his body alerting him. Something was wrong. He pulled the phone away from his ear, glancing down. 

He also had a voicemail. From you.

This was the stupidest thing you’d ever done. But damn was it thrilling. You should’ve been a car thief in another life. 

“Hey, Peter,” your voicemail recorded a few minutes ago said, “I realize it’s probably hard to listen to this message, but it’s important that I say this, so I need you to listen...”

You’d hotwired the box truck carrying the weapon and detoured away from the tunnel. You stepped on the gas pedal, increasing speed steadily. 

Fifteen minutes before, you’d found Dr. Rivers. You told him urgently that his daughter was going to hurt herself, and that you would tell him when and where she could be found, and that information you were going to give freely, because it was the right thing to do. That despite his past absence, his daughter needed him more than ever. They both deserved a second chance. 

Everyone did. And that’s why you needed him to tell you how to destroy the weapon safely.

And he did. 

“I’m sorry that this is how things need to end. It’s not what either of us had planned, but life is like that. This isn’t your fault. You really need to know that. In fact, I have to thank you.” 

Now you were running. Driving a hot wired truck carrying one of the most powerful weapons ever created, stolen from the C.I.A. You pushed the gas pedal all the way to the floor. 

“You’ve taught me the meaning of life, how fragile and precious it is. How important. I want you to know that what you do matters. Even when it feels like it doesn’t.”

You glanced in the rear view mirror, seeing a flurry of red and blue light behind you. Sirens wailing. You smirk. You wonder if Officer Cage is among them.

You switched on the radio.

“It was the HEAT of the MOMENT…”

Your smile widens. You fucking love this song.

“You have no idea how many lives you touch. Including mine.” 

The pier is ahead of you. At the end of it, your watery grave. You were pleased as pie, knowing that at least you were taking this bitch down with you. 

You sang along, “Showed in your eyeeeeeeeeeeees—”

The pedal is on the floor. The truck launches off the end of the pier. Curves in an arch. Collides with the water. The windshield crumples in front of you as the frigid water pours in, surrounding you, submerging the truck, sinking the weapon. 

You feel so alive. Your heart is pounding. Your body is sizzling with energy, even as you’re dragged into the water. 

“Did you know that you have the prettiest fucking smile? I can wake up to that smile 10,000 times, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I’m so grateful for every second of it. Even the painful parts.” 

It’s getting dark. It was beautiful today. And now, darkness. Rising steadily. Coming up to cradle you in its arms as you sink further below. This is how it ends. You’re certain.

You look up out the window, enjoying the rays of sunlight poking down from the surface as they get further away. Your chest is burning, like a flaming sword through your heart. Lungs aching. Ribs threatening to implode. The pressure is unbearable. But you don’t mind. You’re used to the pain. 

It’s worth it. Just to say goodbye to the rays of sunlight. To thank them for keeping you warm. For rainbows. Sunsets. Sunflowers and pineapples. For lighting the eyes of the man you love, casting them in a golden hue. 

“Live your life. Be better than you were yesterday. And don’t be too hard on yourself, because you can be better tomorrow. Do good things.” 

Speak of the devil. A figure torpedos through the surf, descending lower. You see him in the murky haze of the water, the familiar red and blue catching your eye. 

Peter’s eyes widen as he recognizes you in the passenger seat. His mask is off. You smile at him. You wave, as water shoves itself down your throat. 

“And don’t worry about me. I think everything is gonna work out.” 

It’s time to go home, you think. Safe and warm. Where your ancestors await you. You’ll see Nana Manners there. You’ll see your old cats there. Your grandparents. Your parents. Maybe you’ll finally get to meet Gwen. Meet Uncle Ben.

Peter will be there too, one day. You’re certain.

“One way or another... I’ll see you later.”

Peter swims up to the window. He’s scared, but he needn’t be. You can still move your arms, even though they’ve gone heavy. You place your hand on the glass.

“Goodbye, for now. I love you. Forever.”

There’s a message written on your palm. You hope he can read it. Hope he sees it. Takes it to heart. Holds it there. Believes in it as you believed in each other. Forever.

Three simple words.

'SEIZE THE DAY'

The light fades from your eyes. 

This is how it ends.

Or so you’d thought.

Round, mellow notes fill the air. Clean, thick strings, weaving together. Vibrating with warmth. Delicately rising, like steam from a hot spring.

Over the hum of a vintage, six-string, acoustic guitar, peppered with banjo plucks, and the crisp ring of a distant electric hardbody, the gentle crooning of John Denver filled your ears.

“He was born in the summer of his 27th year

Coming home to a place he'd never been before

He left yesterday behind him, 

You might say he was born again

You might say he found a key for every door...”

Your eyelids creaked open, as dim lights swam in your vision. Your eyelashes fluttered. The ceiling foreign. The room cast in shadow. A machine steadily beeps, off-tempo from the music. Your eyelids are heavy. 

Why?

“...When he first came to the mountains his life was far away

On the road and hanging by a song...”

You drew back the curtains of your gaze again, going crosseyed for a moment as they attempted to adjust to the light. You focused on a single, blurry shape, willing it to be still and come into focus. 

You squinted, your head aching. Your chest felt sore. Like you’d worn a vise as a bra. Or spent a day as a shake-weight in a gym for giants.

Your vision sharpened. It’s Peter’s eyes—doe-like, dreamy, warm, and so, so tired—that pulls you from your slumber.

He’s so pretty, you thought, and your lip stung from the grin that stretched your face. He sat in a chair at your bedside, dressed in wrinkled clothes that were a little too worn to be clean.

You blinked a few times and really took in the sight of him. 

Dark circles colored heavy bags under his eyes. He’s even more pale than usual, you noted. His skin looked dry, like all of the moisture had been squeezed from his body. Through his bleary eyes, you assumed, observing how bloodshot they were. 

Peter was worse for wear. 

But he was so damn pretty. 

Your heart ached at the sight of him. And seeing your eyes illuminate had a similar effect on his. Despite looking utterly exhausted, like he’d been awake for a few millenia, his cheeks pinched up and he could no longer hide his teeth behind his lips.

He smirked at you, then glowed as he drank you in.

Despite this, there was a melancholy in his red-rimmed eyes.

You gazed around at your surroundings. A darkened hospital room. You were in a hospital bed. 

You remembered where you’d been and realized you weren’t where you were—the jarring discrepancy confusing and overwhelming you. 

“Hey, hey, hey, shh, you’re okay,” Peter whispered, leaning forward out of the chair. Instinctively, he reached up and brushed a lock of hair from your face. He shifted his body closer to you, scooting in the chair, like he was magnetically charged to gravitate to you. 

“You’re okay,” he cooed. “You’re in the hospital. You’re safe. You’re... you’re gonna be okay.”

You were dead, you recall. 

You were sinking, lungs filled with water, brain shutting down.

You glanced over to see an outdated clock radio plugged in on a table nearby, this one with a 30-pin dock meant for a first-generation iPod. You gaze at the retro white device, recognizing the music.

“...But the string’s already broken and he doesn’t really care

It keeps changing fast and it don't last for long...”

You blinked. Your jaw hung open. Tears pricked your eyes. 

“This song,” you breathed, and probably sounded crazy. You felt giddy. You felt like laughing and crying and screaming at the top of your lungs. “It’s... it’s not Asia...”

“Uhm, no,” Peter replied. He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s John Denver. Sorry. It’s lame. I, uh, I didn’t get a chance to make a playlist, or anything—”

He swallowed hard, his shoulders tense. He looked away from you—to the wall, to the floor, to the space on the pillow next to your head. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. It looked painful, like a rock is lodged in there.

“Wha-what day is it?” you stuttered, gazing up at him. You’re still trying to decide if you’re dreaming. If this is Heaven.

Peter’s brow quirks suspiciously. “Wednesday,” he replied, and you take pity on the exhaustion in his voice. “You’ve been out for almost 20 hours—”

You laughed. “It’s Wednesday?”

He stared at you, his concern growing. “Y-yeah...?”

You giggled uselessly, relishing in the sensation of hot tears streaking your cheeks. “It’s Wednesday!” Your chuckling grew louder, until your throat trips and you cough. Your lungs feel like paper mache.

“Easy, take it easy,” Peter softly admonished you, as he brushed his hands over your face possessively. He didn’t take them off this time. You don’t want him to. “You need to rest,” he replied. “You... got banged up... pretty bad...”

You gazed at the redness of his eyes, and realized what must have happened. You’re stricken with guilt. “I’m so sorry, Peter,” you muttered, but you couldn’t stop smiling.

He shook head, refusing to make eye contact. “S’okay. You’re okay.”

“No, no—”

“You’re alive,” he bit off, a little more firm than he needed to be. “You’re going to be okay. That’s all that matters.” 

His thumbs rubbed circles into your jaw. You sensed that he was at war with himself, debating between pulling away from you and stapling himself to you. His fingers gripped you with a compulsive anxiety. A phobia that he would be forced to let you go, and this time, lose you forever.

“I’m so sorry I hurt you.” You looked up at him like you were staring through pearly gates. Like you could see souls being formed with the stars. “I didn’t mean it, didn’t mean any of it—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he repeated, but the tears welling in his eyes told you the opposite. “None of that matters,” he stammered, still unable to look at you. 

He felt so far away. You needed him closer. You needed to be wrapped around him, smothering him like a koala. 

You giggled and pulled at his arms, squirming in the hospital bed. The movement made you wince. You felt your pulse in your head. 

“Just relax,” he fretted, pinning your shoulders down gently. The weight of his palms felt divine. “You gotta rest, Bug. Doctor’s orders.”

He pinched his face, like he’d bit his tongue. That caught your attention. You stared up at him, noting the discomfort he was failing to hide from you. He hadn’t looked at you yet.

“Bug, listen. There’s—” He winced again. “You were out a while. The-the doctors, they ran some tests, and... um, they... Somethin’ came up on the MRI.”

You study the brown of his eyes. It reminds you of whiskey. Of chocolate. Of mahogany. 

He struggled to speak, failing to keep his voice calm. “They, um... They s-said there was, uh, a-a shadow of some kind. On your brain.”

You curved your eyebrow as you focused on his mouth. Simultaneously listening to the words on his lips, and watching how his lower lip quivered. You wanted to kiss it. To steady it with your own. Your fingers ached to pull him in.

You must have been squirming again, because before you knew it, Peter grasped your hands up in his, holding them tightly to his chest. He hovered over you, practically whispering in your ear.

“You were already under,” he quickly explained, the rest of the words tumbling out at once. “The-they did a biopsy. Just a little cut, and-and they said they were going to send the tissue off for a-a lab test. And... and when it comes back, we’ll know more about it, but... but the doctor said, he said it was good, whatever it is. Good that we caught it early. He said—” 

Peter’s voice broke, and then his eyes met yours. They welled up with tears. He looked deeply shaken, pulled taut. Like his limbs were made of matchsticks and he would crumble or go up in flames at any moment. 

He looked so afraid. 

He looks as scared as you should be. Your brain moves like molasses to catch up with the fact that it nearly caused your ultimate demise. 

Your mind spun with what-ifs and destiny and alternate universes and higher purpose and you have to stay focused on the chocolate of his eyes because that’s the only thing that mattered to you. 

Peter swallowed hard, digging out his voice. “They said that you coulda had an aneurysm any day now. Like, you’re there one minute and just... you’d be gone.”

You gazed up at him, spotting the tremor in his chin again. He bit down, to keep it steady. You wanted to pepper his chin in kisses for the next 100 years, or 100 minutes, or 100 seconds. Whatever you could get.

“I, uhm,” he struggled to continue. “I don’t know what I woulda done if... you... if you’d...”

He doesn’t finish the sentence. He can’t, you realized. 

“Pete,” you softly replied. 

He looked up at you, and he’s so beautiful, it hurts. 

You gazed lovingly at him and showered him with adoration. Looking at you is too much for him. 

His brow creased with sorrow as he buried his face in your joined hands. Shoulders shaking. You felt him sob into your skin, tears soaking your hospital gown. 

“It’s okay,” Peter said with a sniffle, for both of you. He pulled himself upright. He was trying so hard to stay strong. “S’gonna be okay. You’re going to be okay. I-I promise, whatever happens. I’m not gonna leave your side. We face it together. I don’t care if I’m not with you, or we’re not together anymore. It’s—-this isn’t about me. I’m there for you. ‘Til the end, okay? I swear to you. It’s going to be okay.”

You watch him like you’re watching a sunrise. Like a rainbow is forming behind him. Sunlight piercing heavy rain clouds. You’re in exactly the right place. Exactly the right moment.

Time is meaningless. Time is priceless. Time is everything.

You cried happy tears. “I know.” 

If he asked you to marry him right now, you’d say yes in a heartbeat. 

You couldn’t help yourself—you ran your fingers through his hair. Across his chin. You wanted to map every freckle with your fingertips. Draw invisible lines in his skin. “I know it will, baby, I know. I believe you.”

His expression softened at your smile. He let himself get lost in it. Letting waves of hope crash over him and pull him along with the tide. His lips curved gently, and he returned it. The muscles in his body relaxed slightly.

“We’re gonna be okay,” you promise him, with no real way of knowing.

No way of predicting the future. 

And yet, no doubt. 

“Because today is Wednesday,” you explain, heart floating in your chest, swelling with gratitude. “And we have today.”

The End.

A/N: Thank you for riding with me for this story. I hope that it brings you peace and healing and happiness.

Take care of yourselves!

Did you like this story? Please share your thoughts with me via comment, ask, or reblog! Thank you for reading, and thank you for supporting fandom and fandom writers!

[lovesick-feelings]

I have to admit, I have somewhat of a weak spot for Music Man original, what sort of headcanons do you have for him?

Thank you for requesting this, dear reader! (♡°▽°♡) If it wasn't for this, I'd never realize how little original Music Man content there is! I think i'm the first person to do a Music Man x reader because while I was trying to find some inspiration, I could not find a single one that wasn't about DJ Music Man. (=ʘᆽʘ=)

❥ How Helpy was capable of fishing out an 8-foot animatronic from the children's ball pit, you will never know, but you're managing an ever-growing restaurant. You're not gonna question it. 

❥ Music Man is truly grateful for his second chance on the stage. Being stuck in an auction wasn't fun, but thanks to you he can now let his true talent shine! Please, come see his shows anytime! It’s the least he can do for you. The more you come to see him, the closer you two become. It becomes part of your routine to greet and chat with the music man before opening. 

❥ Being an enthusiastic musician, he plays you songs of all kinds! The joy it brings you makes him want to play your favorite melodies all day! While he may not be the best dancer, that won't stop him from doing a lil' jig. He’d love it if you joined him too. You could be the most horrible singer/dancer on Earth; he’ll join you. Maybe give you a few lessons! 

❥ He can’t help but look your way every time you appear. Did he mention how stunning you looked today? Your bright smile makes him want to shower you with admiration. If you're uncomfortable with it, of course, he’ll hold off the praises back. He doesn't want to come off as too overbearing. Just know he means every word.

“You are simply splendid, my little melody! Now, what can I play for ya next?!”

❥ As your connection with Music Man grows, he becomes more possessive. It comes off very lowkey so you don't even realize he’s taking up your time. Even though he knows he cannot have your full attention 24/7, he’ll try to squeeze you in for an extra five minutes. Next thing you know, he’ll come after your lunch break for a talk. 

❥ If there's anything quick to annoy Music Man, it’s when others interrupt your time together. He isn’t one for violence (such uncivilized acts 🧐) but that won't stop him from sending out ominous threats. He really can't stand their noisy, annoying voices talking off your ears about how their day went. He doesn't know how you do it. Those “friends” of yours are an annoyance!

❥ Of course, this isn’t your fault, little melody! He just wishes you were a little wiser with who you choose to be with. Or maybe you’re too nice to tell them to leave you be. No matter, he'll help you turn you in the right direction! The "advice" he gives is often sugar-coated to make his words seem more beneficial to you. It's so hard to see through it with the gentleness and concern of his voice. Music Man has always had his heart in your best interest. Maybe you should reconsider who you associate yourself with.

❥ If you stray from Music Man, it's more likely he'll take more… drastic measures. He would never hurt anyone, but nobody said anything about a little scare. Besides, he already gave the pests so many warnings. Why not give a final reminder? Music Man already knows he has an unsettling appearance; he's going to intimidate anyone he deems a nuisance. Lord have mercy on the poor soul who is alone with him. Nothing like cornering people in a pitch-black room. 😁

❥ Music Man is 100% aware of his wrongdoings, he just doesn't want to admit it. Besides, you don't seem to mind it, so why should he? 

❥ What!? Your friends refuse to contact you and they are now in a psychiatric hospital?  My what barbarians! He’s not surprised. I mean, what type of lousy friends would leave without saying goodbye? Oh well, at least he’s here to take care of any of your needs or wants dear.

“Oh, no need to worry your pretty head for the others when you have me, my little melody!”

[mizunetzu]

Heyo!! Can I request a Kuroo x male reader, where yn goes to give him a love letter one day, but he sees him with his new girlfriend??? And he’s like-sad and he tears up the note and he moves on??? But then one day kuroo asks to talk to him, and he confesses to reader, but since reader already moved on he doesn’t accept??? Angsty ending if you will 💔💔💔 thank you, Mr. Mizunetzu !!

Hi paola ily paola hee hee

——————

Kuroo x reader - you did once...

⚠️Warnings - Kuroo gets a gf, angst, not so much of a good ending?

Pronouns- male, he/him

You can find part two here!

——————

“(Y/n), can I talk to you real quick?”

(Y/n) looked up from adjusting his loose kneepad, and wiped a bead of sweat rolling off his face. He turned his head to his teammates still on their diving punishment, and looked back at Kuroo. They just lost to another school again, but he got his punishment done rather early. “Mm? Okay..?”

He rose to his feet, following Kuroo out the gym door. The walk to a secluded place far, far away from the main gym was silent and awkward, not to mention suspicious. If Kuroo wasn’t one of his good friends, he would’ve thought he was about to be kidnapped. Or murdered.

Eventually, they stopped where the fenced pathway met the grass. Kuroo stopped ominously, further proving (Y/n’s) ‘serial killer’ theory. He turned around, facing (Y/n), and leaned on the railing.

(Y/n) stiffly held his hands behind his back. “So...” he rocked on his heels, trying to seem as casual as possible. “...what did you...need...?”

He was met with no response. Kuroo, instead, gripped the railing tighter, his knuckles turning a pale white. His eyes were downcast and he was sweating like crazy. He looked like he’d seen a ghost.

(Y/n) stepped forward and crouched down, so he could see Kuroos face behind the mop that was his hair. He rested his palms on his knees, trying to decide what to say.

“...I...think your hair looks nice...today...”

If it’s one thing he hates, it’s awkward silence. Not to mention the suspense of waiting on someone to say someone possibly life changing. I mean, why else should he drag him out miles away from the gym during training camp?

“Uh-If we don’t hurry up, we’re gonna miss our next match-“

“I need to get something off my chest.”

(Y/n’s) throat closed up. It was simple. The secluded area, Kuroo flushed face, fiddling and chipping the rust off the railing. He didn’t know how he didn’t see it before. He’s been in this situation plenty of times, with girls he can’t even remember the face of. But oh how much he’d love to be in this situation a few months ago.

————

‘Just do it. just do it. God, just do it. Worse comes to worse, he’s straight. It’s not like he’s the type of person to de-friend someone because they like them!’

(Y/n) gripped the white envelope behind his back harshly, crinkling it on the corners. It had a red, heart shaped sticker on the seal flap, with the words ‘To Tetsu’ written in dark pink across the back.

Both Karasuno and Nekoma were bidding their new friends goodbye, all scattered across the parking lot of Karasuno. (Y/n) paced around awkwardly, looking for Kuroo’s familiar mop of black, messy hair. He was nervous, to say the least. Very nervous.

“Ne, Kenma,” (Y/n) placed a sweaty palm on Kenmas handheld game, pushing it down lightly and forcing him to look up.

“Mm.”

“Have...have you seen Tetsurou? I need to give him something.”

Kenma hummed in acknowledgment, and nudged his head to the side. Sure enough, Kuroo was there, off in the distance and talking to someone he couldn’t make out. His back was facing towards them, and his hand was on his hip. (Y/n’s) heart pounded even more.

“Th..an..k...y-you...” (Y/n) gave a lopsided, very stressed out smile, and limped his way over to Kuroo. Kenmas eyes were drawn to the extremely obvious love-letter being wrinkled by (Y/n’s) sweaty hands. He pursed his lips.

He then looked up to the petite girl chatting with Kuroo. It wasn’t visible in (Y/n’s) line of sight, but it was to Kenma. He almost felt kind of bad.

(Y/n) stopped dead behind Kuroo, his eyes fixated on the ground as he ran through his memorized confession for the millionth time that day. He tapped on his shoulder, keeping the letter flush against his back with his other hand.

Kuroo turned around, and that was when his eyes landed on the brown-haired girl wearing an obviously oversized Nekoma jacket. From context of the scene, (Y/n) supposed it was Kuroo’s. He gripped the letter tighter.

The girl walked forward and extended her hand out. Her bubbly aura practically suffocated (Y/n). “Hi! You must be ‘(Y/n)’. Tetsu was just talking about you! You two are like—buddy buddies right?”

‘Tetsu.’ That was (Y/n’s) nickname for him. Only he got to call him ‘Tetsu’...and who gave her the right to call him by his first name?

(Y/n) glanced at Kuroo. Kuroo shoved his hands into his pocket and grinned. It wasn’t his usual shit-eater smirk, rather a genuine, lovesick dopey smile. A smile (Y/n’s) never seen before, not directed at him at least. It was a sight he wanted to burn into his mind, but at the same time, he wanted to slap that smile right off his face.

“(Y/n), this is Yumi-chan. She’s our new manager.”

Kuroo stepped behind Yumimite, and draped his arms around her dainty shoulders.

“She’s also my new girlfriend~”

“Oh-hush it, you!” Yumimite turned around and berated Kuroo with small punches, earning a playful chuckled from the Kuroo. (Y/n’s) grip on the wrinkled letter loosened.

“...ahaha! Congrats..! When...when did you two get together?” If (Y/n) was good at anything, he was good at pretending to be interested in something. Maybe he should’ve joined the drama club instead of the volleyball club.

“Mm. We got together just last week. She gave me a love letter.” Kuroo patted the girl on her head, ruffling her neat brown hair and making her blush red. It looked like it felt nice. He wondered how it would feel to have Kuroo’s undivided attention, to be pat on the head like a blushing schoolgirl. To be a small, pretty girl next to Kuroo, to have the ability to call him ‘his’. All his nervousness simmered away, replaced by a strange ache of numb.

“Well, that’s awesome dude! Honestly, I don’t know how you managed to snag a girlfriend before me...” (Y/n) slouched dramatically, quickly hooking the letter in the waistband of his volleyball shorts and tugging his shirt over it. “Especially such a cutie like her! I’m (L/n), by the way...”

Kuroo chuckled, slinging an arm around Yumimite. “Don’t go flirting with my girl now. You have plenty of girls practically throwing their panties at you.”

‘Yeah...but I’m gay, Tetsurou. For you no doubt! I-I love you-!’

(Y/n) almost wanted to yell that out. And he almost did. But he chose instead to keep silent and laugh in response.

(Y/n) bowed slightly. “Anyway, it was nice meeting you. I just wanted to say hi to Tets-uh, Kuroo...”

Kuroo tilted his head at the use of his last name, but brushed it off when Yumi hooked her arm in his. The couple bid their goodbyes, as they turned around and walked off. (Y/n) followed suite, turning around robotically and marching off.

Once he was a good enough distance away, he stopped behind a trash can and fished the letter out from his sweaty back.

He watched as the big pink words ‘To Tetsu’ bled and distort with every falling teardrop rolling down his cheeks. The water expanded and smudged the ink lighter and lighter until the words were practically indecipherable. You couldn’t tell it was a love letter anymore. Especially because (Y/n) ripped and trashed it up til it was a pile of pink and white paper shreds.

He tossed the stray flakes of soggy paper into the trash bin, watching as it fluttered and twirled tauntingly down the trash can. He quietly scrubbed at his red hot face, probably soaking his shirt with his salty tears. He rested his hands on the edges of the bin.

“Okay...” (Y/n) stretched up, spitting onto the concrete. “I...wonder...if my favorite ramen place is open...”

Strangely he didn’t feel devastated, or heartbroken at all. He just felt sort of numb. He didn’t feel the need to blast heartbreak music and cry out on his bed for hours on end. In fact, he was glad. Albeit a bit raw, and maybe a bit tired, but glad.

He got closure for the confusing feelings bubbling down his throat ever since he’d met Kuroo Tetsurou. He got his answer, and even if it wasn’t the preferred one, it was something.

The recovery process was easier than most people would think. It only took a couple long days to get him back to his prime condition. It was a given, since (Y/n) had so much other things to be worrying about. Midterms, volleyball practice, his friends. It’s a given that he would move on the things that was no longer on his priority list.

And Kuroo Tetsurou was no exception.

——

It was kind of pathetic to see such a high strung man like Kuroo so shaky and nervous. Though, he felt the same way three months ago, spending the whole golden week perfecting a letter he never got to read. What a hypocrite he was.

(Y/n) cleared his throat. “So...what did you wanna say?”

“I-just,” Kuroo swallowed thickly. “Ah-I...give me a second...”

“Okay, take you time, Kuroo~” he stood back up to his full height, and leaned on the rail across from him. It was obvious they weren’t gonna get anywhere. “So...hows ‘Yumi-chan’ doing?”

“Ah. We broke up. She’s gay. She has a girlfriend now.”

“Aw, I’m sorry. Though, good for her for snagging a girlfriend. No offense.” Kuroo mumbled out a ‘none taken.’ (Y/n) continued.

“Was that what you wanted to talk about? Her breaking up with you?”

“No! Actually, I broke up with her first. And it was...it was kinda mutual.” Kuroo sharply inhaled. “But it does have something to do with what I need to tell you.”

How could he be more obvious. (Y/n) forced a smile. It felt mandatory now. “Really? That’s interesting. Do tell.”

‘Please...Please don’t say it.’

“I broke up with her...because I had these...feelings.”

‘Please don’t say it. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to see it. I don’t want to read it. I don’t want to know it.’

“And you know how she’s gay? Well, I think I am too.”

‘No shit Sherlock. I don’t wanna hear it. You’ve been fiddling around with your hands like a schoolgirl. Stop it, so we can just be friends like we used to be. Don’t make it awkward. Don’t make me hear it. Please.’

“And...well...”

‘Don’t make me look at your crestfallen face when I say no. It’s too much for even me to handle. I don’t want to see that.’

(Y/n) knitted his eyes shut. A fierce shudder threatened to rattle him and cover Kuroo’s mouth, but he kept still, as difficult as it was. He braced for impact.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

There it was.

(Y/n) pursed his lips and let his smile finally drop. Kuroo looked up from his trained gaze on the ground, only to be met with (Y/n’s) pitiful expression. (Y/n) never saw his face go from hopeful and love struck to devastated and heartbroken so fast.

(Y/n) cleared his throat. He was going to lay him down gently if it was the last thing he did. “...uh.”

He never said it’d be easy, though.

“If it makes you feel better...I did like you once, Tetsurou.” He only used his full first name during important situations, as he switched to using his last name instead of his first a long time ago. A lump grew in Kuroo’s throat.

Kuroo jabbed at his chest exasperatedly. “T-then what’s the problem?! We both-“

“The problem is I don’t love you. Not anymore.” Kuroo fell silent. He was so prepared to do anything it took to win over (Y/n), but after standing in front of him now, it was clear. Watching as he looked down at him with a pitying expression that made his brain go numb. He would get no where if he tried.

“...a-anymore? You liked me before? When!? Why didn’t I know?!” Kuroo grasped fistfuls of his black hair, a cold sweat condensing on his forehead. He was so animatedly desperate it was kind of sad.

“Not too long ago. Though, you kept me waiting since forever. And I thought I could wait forever.” A sorry chuckle emitted from (Y/n’s) lips. “I watched you go though girlfriend after girlfriend, Tetsurou. You even introduced me to Yumimite when I was going to confess to you. How do you think that felt? Even I got tired of waiting.”

“You...you were...” Kuroo had never felt so helpless. (Y/n) shrugged.

“I would give you the love letter I wrote for you that day, but it’s in a trash can somewhere. Ripped to shreds. And I don’t remember the words I wrote. I’m sorry, Tetsurou.” (Y/n) sighed and patted Kuroo on the head.

“You missed your chance...”

Kuroo’s eyes stung, threatening to unleash hell, but he promised himself he wouldn’t cry. No matter what. Instead, he rubbed the back of his neck and stood back up.

“I never stood a chance, did i?” Kuroo chuckled. It was a sad chuckle, one that made (Y/n) want to cry aswell.

“That’s the sad part.” (Y/n) pressed his lips into a fine line, turning it into a smile conotated with pity.

“You did once.”

——————

Go sit there and stare at the wall in silence as you feel bad for Kuroo getting rejected by you. Go on, stare. Maybe then I’ll consider a part 2 (and if people comment or reblog asking for a part 2, hee hee.)

[booksweet]

Could I request a Gojo fic/drabble/whatever based around Halsey’s song Colors?? I feel like it fits Gojo perfectly. Angsty. Fluffy. Whatever you’re feeling.

Hollow Purple

starring: sorcerer!Gojo x human!reader

synopsis: there was happiness when blue and red met, but they didn't know grey would claim their place in between them.

contents/warnings: ANGST, SFW, slightly mention of blood, trauma, violence (if I miss something, please warn me), both reader and Gojo are 18+

WC: + 2k

A/N: hello, anon! I swear to god I tried to make it a fluff, but I coulnd't, it screamed angst on my mind. This request reminded me I'm into writing pain stuff like my heart was broken a thousand times, and I wish I could say sorry for the pain, but I'm NOT hahaha no regrets. Enjoy!

tags @noritoshiikamo

main navi | masterlist

You were gone. You were gone and destroyed every piece of him, every inch of him were carved by you.

He knew by the first time he saw you that you'd have so much power over him, you could end him without even using words.

And that's what happened.

You with your beautiful eyes, and beautiful red dress. You broke him.

His blue eyes now devoid of bright, of color.

But he knew it was his fault.

His fault to insist bringing you to his world while you should've had stayed in yours, oblivion to everything related to jujutsu. Yet, he couldn't regret it. He would never regret meeting you, and being with you this whole time until you got apart.

There he was, above the skies, searching for cursed spirits who ran away from him, their fear reasoned since he was the strongest above all. He couldn't care less about their feelings. Within the curtain, without non-jujutsu sorceres, he just wanted to finish that spirits as fast as he could to call his day off and eat some sweets.

"Guess I'll have to go a little rough now, uh?" With a movement of his hands, he felt his cursed energy shaking inside him like an ocean of power, such powers had he overwhelmed by years until he could plenty control them.

But suddenly he felt another presence, aside cursed spirits and jujutsu sorcerers, he felt a human presence. With a frown of his browns, he took off his blindfolds, revealing beautiful blue eyes, in order to find out who or what was that feeling. His flowing energy all at once disrupted.

And then, he found you. He found you walking calmly through the lonely streets wearing a red dress he could never forget. "What an interesting..." He muttered checking out if you were truly human, six-eyes working hard to find it and, when he was certainly of it, his interest on you just grew even harder.

You were about to cross an alley between two buildings and he took the chance to teleport there by connecting his hands. You took a few steps and stopped to admire some store's window and he couldn't help but wonder how you were still there in that chaotic place so relaxed and withou fear.

"Who are you?" He came closer to you and you stepped back with surprise, staring at that tall white-haired man with suspicious eyes and a smirk on his lips.

"Who's wanna know?" Your hands ready to punch his face if he dared to try something on you. His growing interest reached alarming levels as his heart bumped hard on his chest.

"I'm Gojo Satoru," He said without approaching you, and with a bow, he added. "The strongest above all. At your service."

"The strongest?" You said while lifting your chin up to him in defiance. "Oddly of you to say that, isn't?"

And he at that right moment, he knew he was lost. He was lost to you.

- x -

He was supposed to protect you, he was supposed to take care of you ever since you met. Instead, he brought you danger, he brought you pain, he brought you despair.

What's the point of being blessed with six-eyes if he couldn't protect the only one he cared the most?

Not a bless, but a curse. A sin held upon his shoulders. A burden so heavy he couldn't breath.

A sin so harmful that had stained you. Your naive soul. Innocent. Heavenly.

And he missed you. He missed your red lips. You red clothes. He missed how your smile seemed to warm him just like the red sunset you two watched once. His blue eyes missed staring at your for hours, drowning in yours.

Blue and red.

Red and blue.

Two parts independent from each other, yet they floated against them, their souls wiling to be one.

Convergence and divergence.

Divergence and convergence.

And when both opposites reunite...

The second time you met, Gojo wasn't on a mission and you weren't in danger at all. You had an average day and stopped by a coffee shop to drink some hot coffee, eat your favorite sweet and maybe read your favorite book just to get away from craziness of your life, you wanted to relax. You were at your favorite table, alone, and the costumers were passing around you and you weren't giving them attention when the doorbell left out a "ring!".

He couldn't help but desire some sweets, it was his nature as sweet-eater. He knew he would bring attention to him, he was tall, handsome as hell and was wearing a blindfold, of course everyone would've looked at him.

But you hadn't looked at him. You didn't even take your eyes out of the pages to check what happend at the cafe. Nevertheless, once again you caught his attention and he recognized you from your first meeting. "What do we have here?" He muttered with a glimpse of a smile on the corner of his lips.

He ordered a chocolate cake and signed the waiter to take it to your table. Meanwhile, he moved his long legs on tour way, like you were a force bringing him closer and closer each step. He moved the chair loudly and had his seat in front of you. "Hello, Y/N! Long time no see, ugh?"

Surprised by his suddenly entrance, you put your book down and looked straight at him. That weird man you met months ago, still you felt different about him. "Long time no see, strongest above all" you replied playfully. "What bring your majesty up here?"

— x —

When you third met, it was your first date. That turned into a second, and then a third, a fourth... And suddenly you were about all his life, above your weird friendship. All at once you became the one he needed the most to feel himself.

Yet he chose not to tell you about jujutsu. He chose not to tell you about his powers. About why he couldn't stay a little longer with you at your place. About where he would've been travel out of city for weeks without giving any news if he was okay.

He dissapeared for weeks in a roll. And you worried about him. About his blue eyes. You worried about never going to see him again, even though you didn't figure out what you feared at all.

Once, he came back of one of those long trips, after several weeks of nothing about him, but what he gave you to remind of him — his shirt, a photograph of you two, one of his blindfolds.

And you couldn't help but cry while kissing him. You couldn't help but to say you loved him you never wanted for him to disappear. And he would retrieve, he would say he loved you so hard you had him in your hands. He was yours to be loved, to be destroyed.

The strongest on his knees at a human's mercy.

Had never his eyes sight such a colorful being, such a colorful existence. He was at your mercy, his existence, his entire being was yours to paint, to stain, to rip him apart if you wanted.

And then, when you two lay down together, messy sheets and pillows. Blue and red met once again, but not apart, they were together. That time blue and red turned into a beautiful tone of purple.

— x —

Someday you would find out, he knew it. Yet, he still longed for time to be with you, time to be himself without necessarily being the strongest, the head of his clan, the balance between cursed spirits and jujutsu sorcerers.

But he knew he had no time, you had no time with him. There wasn't enough time with jujutsu and curses. They would've come for you by anytime.

He masked his worries from you. He always seemed so happy in his nonchalant and playful way. Always trying to annoy you and make you laugh everytime you spent together.

You mocked the "strongest above all" out of him every opportunity you had. And this had him caring about you more and more.

But then it wasn't a joke anymore.

Jujutsu were real.

Cursed spirits were real.

And you were just a human.

Alone.

Blood. Red. Everything is red. Everything is blood. Pain. You were in pain screaming. You couldn't see what hurt you, but that ominous feeling was still there in your place. "What happened? What happened? Who are you? Who are you?" You couldn't help keep muttering it like a prayer, thinking of Gojo who was to come by and see your hurt state.

But Gojo Satoru felt the overflowed cursed energy arisen from your place. His bare eyes naked with worry and, for the first time, fear. And then he broke. Every piece of him.

He found you on the floor, muttering non-sense words — including his name in your dizzy state — blood running over you limbs, torso and head. A cut on your beautiful face. And above you, at the ceiling, that goddamn cursed spirit laughing out loud mocking you. Mocking your pain. Your despair.

He ran out of control. He released this powers untamed, uncontrolled. In a blink of an eye he exorcised that cursed spirit from existence. He was furious, feral. He could bring fire to the world if it means to keep you safe, to keep you alive. "Y/N?" He came closer to you, checking out your pulse as his hand held your wrist. It was so weak his heart almost stopped. "Don't leave me, please. You don't deserve to die."

— x —

When everything fell apart, he took you to Shoko at Jujutsu High nursery. She healed your physical wounds in silence while he stayed by your side. You kept unconscious the process, sometimes mumbling while your expression turned into a painful one.

When you woke up at his place, you said nothing. Nothing came out from your mouth, even though he tried to make you speak. He kissed your forehead, your cheeks. You could hear him say "Love, love, love, please, talk to me" in a desperate broken tone.

Yet you couldn't say a thing.

When purple turned into grey, everything faded away. Everything blurred.

Happiness overpowered by despair and pain. You were broken such as the beautiful thing you two had.

"Y/N, please, please, I'm begging," Once more his voice muffled on your ears. Why they hold such pain? "I'm on my knees, Y/N, please, come back, come back to me."

He told you the truth about him so many times expecting some reaction, something from you. Yet he received anything at all. You were numb to reality, there was nothing he could do about that.

But one day, after weeks and weeks of him trying to call you back, you spoke for the first time. Pale eyes meeting him lifeless. And he felt his world falling apart again. "I want to go" You whispered and he widened his pretty eyes full of tears.

"What, Y/N?"

"I want to leave. I wanto to go away from here. Take me out, take me out, take me out..." You kept saying repeatdly, each time a knife stabbing his heart.

"Y/N, love..." He tried to touch your hair, but you moved away from him.

"No, no," You muttered afraid. "It's your fault. The monsters. The blood. The pain..." You shrunk yourself in your bed, crying. "The nightmares. It's your fault." Your crying getting louder and louder. "I wish I could forget you."

"Y/N, I-I," He struggled his words, afraid and crying. "You know I can protect you, you know I will."

Your voice cold in his ears aside your tears. "No, you can't."

— x —

Blue bright eyes once, but not anymore. Not when the reason they shone for now It's gone. When you've chosen to forget him since your accident.

That was what you asked, to forget. To forget the pain, the blood the nightmares, him...

It was quite easy to manipulate your memories, cursed energy manipulation and then it's done. Not that it means it did not hurt him, but it had to be done.

When light came back to your eyes, Gojo's bright faded away.

When you smiled red, blue was not his color anymore.

When your life was colorful, his was grey and devoid of any color.

Red and blue turned into purple. His heart was craved by yours, when you were together.

Purple danced in front of his eyes as his memories overflowed his mind. Blue eyes crying because of red.

Blue eyes seeing grey because now red is gone forever and blue is alone.

[baepsaesbae]

Heal Me, Kill Me Ch.5 (Final Chapter)

Pairing— Kim Taehyung x female reader

Genre— Vampire!Taehyung x Vampire Hunter!reader, SMUT +18, angst

Warnings— Unprotected explicit sex, fingering, blood mentions, death, oral (f and m receiving), creampie, overstimulation 

Word Count— 6.3k

Summary— You’re one of the best vampire hunters in the world. That’s to be expected when your parents are the best of the best. Your life had solely revolved around ruthlessly killing vampires, making you a cold blooded machine. However, things take a turn once you meet Kim Taehyung, your latest target.

A/N— Huge shoutout to @dee-ehn for this beautiful banner! Thank you to everyone who has given this series a read. It’s very special to me and it’s bittersweet that it’s now over. Please let me know what you guys think!

“Let me get this straight, the VEC HQ is completely gone? Wiped out?” you questioned as you tried to grasp the situation.

“Apparently they were hit with a massive ambush. A huge horde of vampires led under a single commander, it seemed like. I got a call during the middle of the raid. All I could hear were screams and the caller’s laugh. I was given a time and place for a meet up,” Yoongi explained further. 

“Perfect, let’s go burn the sons of bitches,” Jungkook got up energetically.

“There are only four of us,” Taehyung observed with a judgmental glance towards the young man. 

“There are only THREE VEC members left. The only reason you’re still alive is because ___ insisted on it. Mark my words, one slip up, and you’re dead. Got that?” Yoongi corrected him. Taehyung solemnly nodded. 

“So, what do we do? HQ is gone, but surely we can contact the other agencies around the globe,” you suggested.

“Already tried that. They saved the best for last. There is no one we can ask for help,” Jungkook shook his head. 

“I can go. Alone, I mean. To the rendezvous point you were given,” Taehyung offered. 

“And do what? Join forces with them?” Yoongi glared. 

“An attempt at diplomacy would be ideal. Should they choose violence, then so be it. If I die, I die. But at least you will be safe,” Taehyung looked at you while he said that last sentence. 

“Sounds good to me--”

“Absolutely not,” you interrupted Yoongi, “If we really are the last people qualified as vampire hunters, I say we go down swinging. I can’t just sit by knowing there are murderous vampires on the loose. We all took an oath to protect mankind. I intend to keep that oath.”

Yoongi and Jungkook exchanged looks. Jungkook was all for it, eager to let out his rage. It took a bit more to convince Yoongi, but he reluctantly agreed. He really took to heart what you said about the VEC oath.

“Here are the coordinates I was given. We have three days to get there,” Yoongi brought up the site on Google Earth.

“What the hell? That looks like an abandoned castle. That’s kind of badass. Major Castlevania vibes,” Jungkook gawked as he zoomed in closer.

“I know this place,” Taehyung said quietly. 

“You do?” the remaining VEC members asked in unison.

“I believe so. And if who I think is involved truly is involved...I fear we may be in deeper trouble than I thought,” he said ominously. 

“Fuckin terrific,” Yoongi grumbled. 

“Thank god Yoongi brought the private jet over here,” you sighed as you watched the trees below you grow smaller and smaller.

“Thank god I have the credit card for the VEC funds. I would be remiss if we lost all that money,” Yoongi called back using the intercom. 

“Flying via private jet is probably one of my favorite parts of the job. Hey, you good over there, Fangs?” Jungkook coined a nickname for his new vampire acquaintance. 

You looked over to see Taehyung’s face paler than usual as he tightly gripped the armrests of his seat. He slowly looked over towards the pair of you and nodded, though he was clearly lying. You couldn’t help but chuckle at him. His fear of flying was adorable, who would’ve known that an undead creature could be scared of planes?

“I’m gonna go join Yoongi in the cockpit, I love the view from there,” Jungkook said to no one in particular as he stood up once cruising altitude was reached. 

You unbuckled your seat belt and went over to comfort Taehyung, who looked queasier by the minute. You handed him a bottle of water.

“Sorry, we don’t have any blood bags on the plane,” you joked.

“I appreciate the gesture, darling,” Taehyung meekly smiled.

“I didn’t know you were scared of flying,” you said with an amused grin.

“I’ve never been a fan. People traveling in the air? It’s just not natural,” Taehyung shook his head in distaste.

“I don’t think you’re one to talk about what’s natural, but I get that. I wish there was a way I could get you to unwind. We have quite a long way to go before we reach our destination,” you straddled his lap and ran your fingers through his hair, “I can get off if you feel like you need to puke,” you quickly added.

“No, I think a distraction is exactly what I need,” Taehyung’s eyes darkened as he unbuckled his seat belt and gripped your hips.

Your hips began to move on their own as they grinded against him. You could feel his clothed erection growing under you, which only spurred you on more. Taehyung leaned forward to kiss you, and accidentally bit your lip in his excitement. He quickly lapped up the small dribble of blood that surfaced, and that alone seemed to make him more ravenous. Taehyung started to guide your hips, pushing you harder and faster against him.

“You want me?” Taehyung exhaled against your lips.

“I need you. Take off your pants, Tae,” you instructed as you climbed off of him.

“The others won’t intrude?” Tae asked with a smirk as he tugged down his pants.

“Yoongi is flying the jet, and I don’t give a fuck if Jungkook walks in on us,” you answered as you sank to your knees. 

You wasted no time in taking a firm hold of Taehyung cock. Your now ice cold hand caused Taehyung to shudder, a feeling he would now have to get used to. Luckily, the friction from your quick pumping warmed him back up, and he was able to fully enjoy himself. How could he not, when he sees your eager eyes gazing up at him with your lips wrapped around his tip. Your tongue swirled around his sensitive head, making a small moan escape from his lips.

“You have to be quiet, or else I’ll stop,” you warned him. It felt good to hold somewhat of a dominant position over him, but also you would rather not be walked in on. Taehyung nodded his head and licked his lips as you returned to the task at hand. 

Drool dripped down his long cock as you bobbed your head up and down. You tried to fit as much of him in your mouth as you could, but his sheer size made it damn near impossible. Taehyung couldn’t help himself as he grabbed the back of your head and shoved his dick further down your throat. You gagged as he took control of your mouth, but he stopped as soon as he saw tears welling in your eyes.

“I’m sorry darling, did I hurt you?” he asked with concern as he stroked your cheek.

“I’m fine, it’s an involuntary reaction. You’re too sweet,” you smiled as you stood up and unbuttoned your pants, “But since you made me cry I guess it’s only fair for you to make it up to me.”

You straddled over Taehyung, teasing your bare pussy over his hard cock. You wanted him to feel how wet you were before he even penetrated you. As much as you wanted to milk this moment, you really would rather for Jungkook to NOT walk in on you in the middle of getting down and dirty. 

You slowly lowered yourself onto Taehyung’s dick, softly gasping as he stretched you out. You both let out a blissful sigh once you reached his base. You took your time fucking him slowly, as this was one of the few times that you had control in an intimate setting. Taehyung gripped your hips harshly; his eyes begged for you to go faster. Lust took over and you gave in. You began to ride him harder and faster, and soon it was a struggle for both of you to stay quiet. 

Lewd wet sounds echoed around the cabin as you hid your face in the crook of Taehyung's neck at a poor attempt to muffle your moans. Taehyung in turn could barely hold back his deep grunts since he took control with a tight grip on your ass as he fucked upwards into you. With Taehyung drilling into your sweet spot with inhumane speed, the intensity made you clamp down on his neck hard enough to draw blood. Taehyung came quickly after you bit him, releasing his load into your ravaged pussy. 

You licked at his wound, his blood only adding to the euphoria pulsing around your body. Taehyung kissed you passionately before you hopped off in search of napkins to clean yourself off with. The sound of the cockpit door opening sent you and Taehyung into a frenzy. Clothes were put back on in record time and you both were sitting properly in your respective seats when Jungkook came to rejoin you.

“You’re looking better, Fangs,” Jungkook observed. 

“I just needed some time to adjust,” Taehyung said smoothly. 

“You guys know we have cameras and microphones rigged around this cabin right? And it’s all viewable from the cockpit?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow.

Taehyung’s eyes grew large and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. Neither of you could make eye contact with Jungkook, who was looking at both of you expectantly. 

“This is why I do not appreciate modern technology. Personal privacy is a thing of the past,” Taehyung confessed.

Jungkook burst out into a fit of laughter, clutching at his sides as he tried to talk.

“I was fucking with you. I mean yeah there are cameras and shit but security is in the back and gets sent directly to HQ. Which no longer exists. Fuck, you guys are so horny,” Jungkook laughed.

“Fuck off Jungkook,” you rolled your eyes and turned away to hide your reddened cheeks. 

“How’s it feel being part of the Mile High Club?” Jungkook slung his arms around Taehyung’s shoulders from behind. 

“I am assuming that has something to do with intercourse in the sky?” Taehyung questioned. Jungkook nodded excitedly.

“In that case, I rather enjoyed it,” Taehyungn concluded thoughtfully.

“Tae! You don’t have to indulge this idiot,” you cried out.

“Thanks for being honest. Yoongi and I made a bet. He’s gonna be so pissed,” Jungkook sing songed as he walked back towards the cockpit.

You and Taehyung quietly listened as you heard Jungkook say, “Hey Yoongi, time to cough up that $200!”

“Are you fucking kidding me? What the hell ___! God dammit,” Yoongi exclaimed loud enough to be heard clearly through the door (and with your heightened sense of hearing).  

The decrepit castle basked in the pale moonlight as the four of you peered at it through the bushes. The rest of the plane ride was awkward and Yoongi hadn’t been able to make eye contact with you since. He kept shooting death glares at Taehyung while Jungkook kept making funny faces at the both of you. You sighed knowing odds were that the castle was filled with bloodthirsty vampires guarding the strongest one of them all, and the only ones going up against them was your ragtag team. You suddenly made peace with dying...again. 

“So what’s the plan again?” Jungkook asked.

“I can go and try to reason with them. If you hear the sounds of an altercation then that would indicate your cue to join the fight,” Taehyung offered.

“I’m not risking you turning over to their side just to screw us over,” Yoongi sneered. 

“Yoongi he wouldn’t--”

“That’s reasonable. What other plan do we have then?” Taehyung interrupted your oncoming protest.  

“We go all at once. A cool final last stand thing. The grand finale. I don’t want to go into hiding and spend the rest of my life trying to pick these suckers off one by one. They’re all here. Or at least, the one that matters most anyway,” Jungkook gave his input, “Oh, but you matter to me, Fangs,” he shot a smile at Taehyung, who gave him a small polite bow to show his gratitude. 

“So we go in guns blazing?” you asked to sum up the plan. The men all nodded in agreement. It was now or never. Jungkook was right, this was a prime opportunity to take out the ring leader. 

All of you sported long black trench coats that concealed many weapons. Guns with blessed bullets, blessed blades, and water guns filled with holy water (Jungkook’s favorite) were among the vast assortment. You subtly left out wearing crucifixes as you normally would, hoping that no one would notice. Taehyung didn’t need any fancy weaponry, but Jungkook gave him a coat so that he could “match the team in its kickassery”. 

Yoongi was staring at something in his hand away from the others. You approached him slowly. You didn’t know what to say to him on the potential last night of your lives, but you hoped something would come to mind.

“Whatcha got there?” you questioned, peering over his shoulder. 

“An old picture. Have you ever seen this before? Here,” Yoongi handed you the picture. It was old, and the camera quality was not the greatest. However, you were able to make out a smiling Yoongi off to the side.

“Wow you look the same,” you joked.

“This was my VEC graduation picture. See anyone else you know?” he asked. You examined the picture a second time.

“Mom and dad…” you trailed off. They were practically strangers to you. It was odd seeing them like this; young and happy, not knowing their grim future. Before you knew it, you were crying. You didn’t realize it until Yoongi called your name with concern.

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s going on,” you apologized while wiping your tears away, “I guess I just don’t want to lose you too.

“I couldn’t bear to lose you either, ___. I promise I’ll do everything I can to protect you. But knowing you, you’ll probably be the one saving my old ass,” Yoongi chuckled as he patted you on the back.

“Guys! We gotta go!” Jungkook beckoned.

If this were a movie, the scene where the main characters walk in slow motion like badasses towards the enemy would be playing. However, this was not a movie, and you were scared shitless. Sure, you technically were a vampire now, but that won’t stop them from killing you again. 

“I know I said this place was cool before, but now it’s giving me the creeps,” Jungkook whispered as you all followed the rugged path that led to the stone bridge in front of the main gate.

The once grand door was now ripped off its hinges, laying a few yards away from the entryway as if it was carelessly cast aside. You took a deep breath as you followed Taehyung into the castle. Beams of moonlight illuminated the castle in rays as it shone through cracks and holes in the walls. The castle was oddly bare, most of its belongings were probably looted a long time ago. All that was left was memories of the past that no one cared about and a few rats that have lived there for decades. 

Your party made it to what must have been the throne room. There was not a single sign of life. It was eerily quiet, and the only movements you saw were those of the vermin that dwelled within the decaying walls. The throne room was dark, and Jungkook led the way with a single lighter. 

“What the hell? Is this place really empty--”

“Welcome, honored guests!” a loud voice boomed as braziers suddenly lit up the room. 

You cowered at the sudden brightness. Once your eyes adjusted, you saw a single figure sitting in the throne at the front of the room. One of his legs was slung over an armrest as he rested his chin on his hand over the other. He depicted a spitting image of a cocky King drunk on power. 

“I’m so thrilled you all could join me this evening. Oh, what’s this? An old friend? How serendipitous,” he sat up straight now as he leaned forward to get a better look at his visitors. 

“Why did you summon us here?” Yoongi cut right to the chase. 

“Very blunt and straight to the point are we? You must be the failed VEC’s headmaster. Min Yoongi, was it? I wanted to talk business. But I must say, this is a rather odd bunch you have here,” the man chuckled, “Are you aware that there are vampyres amongst your company?”

“Yes, this one--wait, vampires? With an ‘s’?” Yoongi’s face scrunched up in confusion. 

“Oh yes, that girl over there,” the strange man gestured towards you with his chin.

“What?!” Yoongi yelled with incredulity, “Taehyung, if we get out of here alive I’m gonna murder you myself!”

“It was my decision! I asked him to do it!” you admitted while jumping in front of Taehyung to protect him from a furious Min Yoongi. 

“Hah, I knew it,” Jungkook said with a devious grin.

“You know what? I’ll beat all of your asses after this,” Yoongi hissed before turning his attention back to the man on the throne, “Anyway, what do you want?”

“I simply wanted to negotiate with you Mr. Min. But I believe we’re all in for a rather interesting night,” the man licked his lips, “Tell me, how long has it been, Taehyung?”

In an instant, Taehyung was strangling the man on the throne. He was so fast that you didn’t even register his movement until you heard him yelling.

“You bastard! You ruined my life! Over and over again! Now I can finally kill you with my own hands,” he growled with a murderous look in his eyes that you have never seen before. 

“Taehyung stop! You’ll have your chance with him, but for now we need answers,” you pulled Taehyung away as Jungkook put the vampire in blessed restraints. 

“Ouch, that hurts,” the vampire pouted, “Still just as dramatic as ever I see, Taehyung. I like your spark though. Almost the same as the night we met, all those years ago.”

“I will kill you,” Taehyung threatened. 

“What did this guy do to you, Fangs?” Jungkook asked.

“He’s the one that turned me,” Taehyung admitted. 

“Can you believe that? It feels like it was just yesterday when I slaughtered your little village. How silly was it that all the men were in the tavern, drinking and fucking whores while their families were left unattended. That didn’t sit right by me, I’m a man of morals. So I killed everyone in the tavern after I had my fill of lonely housewives and innocent children. Except Taehyung. He was the only man who was ever able to put a scratch on me. I forgot I could even bleed, it was honestly a refreshing sight. In the spur of the moment, I rewarded him with eternal life. Could you believe my surprise when he said he didn’t want to be my henchman?” the detained vampire explained. 

“You killed my family and everyone that I knew! Of course I wouldn’t want to be your stupid sidekick, you daft idiot,” Taehyung rebuttled in disgust.

“It was a shame. Poor sweet Maggie didn’t deserve what happened to her,” the vampire looked down at the ground somberly.

“You...you did what?” Taehyung interrogated with a shaky voice. 

“I managed to catch a glimpse of you and your happy life in London. Excuse me for being a little petty about you declining my offer to be my travel buddy. I get lonely, you know. Every other vampire I turn becomes such a drag and I end up killing them myself. So I gave a little tip to the VEC and the rest is history,” the vampire shrugged. 

“Hoseok you snake! You’re the scum of the Earth! I’ll tear your throat out,” Taehyung screamed as he shook off Jungkook and lunged at the captured vampire. Taehyung slashed a giant gash in the middle of Hoseok’s chest, spewing blood everywhere.

“If I die, so do they,” Hoseok said nonchalantly as Taehyung was about to sink his fangs into his jugular. That made Taehyung reluctantly pause and shrink back.

“Taehyung, you can have the honor of killing this piece of shit after I’m done talking to him,” Yoongi stated, “Your name is Hoseok?”

“Jung Hoseok, at your service. I’m thinking of J-Hope as a street name if I decide to make my dancing skills public. Not to brag, but I’m also the strongest vampire to ever live. I normally don’t bleed this much, it’s embarrassing,” Hoseok looked away bashfully as blood flowed freely from his chest.

“Why did you say that if you die we die?” Yoongi asked with urgency. 

“Well because there are roughly 100 vampires who haven’t fed in a month waiting at my command. My dominion over them is the only thing keeping you safe. With me gone, they’ll be free from their invisible leashes,” Hoseok smiled.

“Nothing is stopping us from dragging your sorry ass away from here,” Jungkook snarled.

“You think they’ll idly sit by and watch their master be whisked away in shackles? I can tell who wasn’t top of their class,” Hoseok giggled. 

“What was the deal you had in mind?” Yoongi kept up his stoic act.  

“Total immunity. I’ll even have all 100 henchmen kill themselves as a show of good faith,” Hoseok flashed a sly smile. 

“No can do, I already promised Taehyung he could kill you,” Yoongi sighed.

“Is he part of the VEC? The deal would have to last for the rest of eternity between me and the VEC. If I die in a vampire fight then that’s on me,” Hoseok tilted his head in confusion. 

“Give me a minute to discuss this with my colleagues,” Yoongi said before leading you and Jungkook to the opposite side of the room, “What do we do? His offer seems too good to be true.”

“It seems fair since he said he’d kill off his henchman on his own. I’m sure Taehyung can kick his ass,” Jungkook added. 

“And if Tae loses? Then we have nothing that’ll stop him from killing us. It’s too risky. I don’t trust him one bit,” you concluded. 

“We can’t possibly win against him plus 100 starving vampires. We’ll be dead meat in seconds,” Yoongi argued. 

Meanwhile, Taehyung looked down in disgust at Hoseok as they had their own conversation.

“I think we were fated to be together. I never thought you’d be here,” Hoseok batted his eyes at Taehyung.

“You’re lucky they’re here to stop me. Otherwise you’d regret letting me live,” Taehyung snapped.

“So why are you here? I’m guessing it has something to do with that girl. Don’t tell me, did you turn her?” Hoseok’s eyes grew large, “Wow, you’ve grown stronger than I could have hoped! If we combine our powers we can rule this world.”

“You’re delusional if you think I’d join you after all of this.”

“Then I’ll enjoy tearing apart your plaything in front of your eyes,” Hoseok smirked. 

“If you lay a finger on her then I’ll--”

“We’ll accept your terms after a few more clarifications,” Yoongi interrupted, “First of all, we don’t think we can trust you. After all, you wiped out the VEC HQ. I have no doubt that the global branches have fallen as well. There’s nothing stopping you from killing us as soon as we let you free.”

“We both know that you never would have agreed to meet with me if I hadn’t done anything drastic. I needed to get rid of the grunts to get to the King, simple as that. Believe me, if I wanted you dead you all would have been slain the moment your fancy plane landed,” Hoseok shrugged.

“Then why did you let us live? Why go through the trouble?” Jungkook questioned.

“For the drama of it all, dear boy. When you get to be as old as I am, living gets boring. I’m not sure if you could tell, but I live for theatrics and thrill. Oh and I’m planning on taking over the world or whatever,” Hoseok admitted happily. 

“And you think we’d let you get away with that?” Yoongi scoffed.

“I’m simply offering you a little peace offering. Of course I wouldn’t hurt you three, and you’re all welcome to kill any vampires that come across your path. It’s more of a mutual immunity actually. This benefits you people more than me. If you disagree, you’re dead anyway,” Hoseok smiled wide enough to show off his fangs.

“Fine. The VEC accepts your terms. You have my word that the VEC will never harm you,” Yoongi declared, “But first, we must see your troops fall with our own eyes.”

“Pleasure doing business with you, I knew you’d be smart. And that’s fair,” Hoseok whistled and the ground began to rumble as an army of vampires came running into the throne room. 

The soldiers made orderly lines and awaited their orders. Some of them salivated at the sight of your party, but they didn’t dare move an inch without permission. They were the most ravenous vampires you’ve ever seen, and would want to avoid fighting them at all cost.

“My dear underlings. You have all served me well. You’ll be in my heart as I create a new world. I ask one last thing of you. Rip out your own heart to show your devotion to me. May your souls rest in peace,” Hoseok gave a short uninspiring speech.

You watched in horror as the army chanted “Long Live Hoseok” along with random whoops and hollers. They were extremely lively and hyped up as they plunged their own fists into their chests. Fountains of red erupted across the room as they ripped out their own hearts. You let out a sigh of relief as you watched the last soldier fall. 

“That was wild,” Jungkook said with a deer in headlights expression. 

“Really makes you feel something huh? A deals a deal,” Hoseok chirped up expectantly. 

Hoseok was tackled to the ground as soon as he was released. Taehyung yelled with fury as he reopened the nearly healed gash he inflicted earlier. Hoseok reacted by hurling Taehyung into the opposite wall. 

“I haven’t had a real fight in ages. Don’t disappoint me, Taehyung,” Hoseok laughed as he spat out blood.

A rock was hurled at incredible speed from where Taehyung landed. Hoseok was quick enough to dodge the rock, but not Taehyung. Once again, the vampires were on the ground and Taehyung was aiming for Hoseok’s throat. Jungkook shot a blessed bullet into Hoseok’s leg, causing him to howl out in pain.

Hoseok tossed Taehyung aside with newfound strength as his eyes glowed red. He set his sights on Jungkook and his lips curled up into an evil smile.

“You dare to break the contract, boy? I’m gonna make you regret that,” Hoseok warned.

Another blessed bullet lodged itself into Hoseok’s back, making him crumple to the ground. He turned in distress to see you wielding the gun with a cocky smirk plastered on your face. Yoongi kicked him onto his back, and spat in his face. With a quick motion of his arm, a wooden stake peeked out of the opening of his sleeve. With a yell, he plunged the wooden stake into Hoseok’s chest.

“Filthy liars,” Hoseok sputtered as blood dribbled down his chin.

“We agreed that the VEC would never harm you. However, you singlehandedly dismantled the company and the establishment is no more. I was the headmaster, but now I’m just a jobless son of a bitch,” Yoongi said triumphantly as he pushed the stake deeper.  

“We did it Yoongles!” you cheered before you heard the sounds of bones breaking. The smile dropped from your face instantly as you zipped over to Yoongi.

“An eye for an eye. Well played, Mr. Min Yoongi,” Hoseok croaked with his hand buried in Yoongi’s chest.

Taehyung quickly decapitated Hoseok with a strong kick. Hoseok’s body turned to dust as his head rolled across the floor for a few seconds before it also reverted to nothingness. 

“Yoongi! Yoongi!” you cried as you cradled him in your arms. Warm blood gushed out of his chest as he struggled to keep his eyes open. Jungkook sank to his knees beside you and held onto Yoongi’s hand. 

“Taehyung, go start up the jet! We have to get him to a hospital!” you demanded with tears running down your cheeks.

“He doesn’t know how to,” Jungkook said softly, trying to comfort you.

“We have to help him!” you sobbed. 

“___,” Yoongi whispered weakly. 

“Shhh, you’ll be okay. Don’t speak,” you begged. 

“Love...you...Be...happy…,” Yoongi rasped before gagging on his own blood. 

You and Jungkook cried over Yoongi’s body for a long time after it had gone cold. Jungkook held you as you cried into his chest as you soiled his clothes with tears and snot. To be fair, his tears and snot ended up all over your hair. Taehyung wanted to comfort you, but he knew Jungkook was a better fit for this job. Afterall, Yoongi was special to both of you. He was the parent neither of you had, and always took care of you guys in his own special way. 

After the sobs subsided, you and Jungkook stared blankly at the body before you. You’ve always been surrounded by death, it never bothered you. You didn’t need emotions in this line of work. You never thought you could feel pain like this. 

“He was a hero. I’m sorry for your loss,” Taehyung finally spoke as he placed a hand on both of your shoulders to show his condolences.

“Thanks, Tae.”

“Thanks, Fangs,” both you and Jungkook said in unison. 

Yoongi was buried outside of the castle, in the clearing where the private jet landed. There were no fancy rituals or blessings. Only a few words of gratitude uttered by both you and Jungkook. It was still too soon to say much more before either of you would start crying again. The feelings were there, and that’s all that mattered. 

The sun began to rise as the three of you sat inside the private jet in silence. You were lost. The VEC was truly no more. The biggest vampire threat (that you weren’t even aware of until a few days prior) was defeated.  Now what?

“What are you going to do now?” you asked Jungkook. 

“No clue. I guess I’ll travel. I have nothing else to do,” he shrugged, “What about you guys?”

“I think I want to open up a flower shop,” you said absentmindedly.

“A flower shop? Like the one Yoongi set up for you?” Jungkook was confused. 

“Yeah. I can either try to make that one work or start up my own elsewhere. I don’t know. I just think that would...make me happy,” you answered softly.

“Would you like some help with that?” Taehyung asked as he interlocked his fingers with yours. 

“Who else is gonna teach me how to make such beautiful bouquets? Plus I don’t have a green thumb so I’ll need you to help keep the plants alive until we can sell them,” you answered and squeezed Taehyung’s hand. 

“It’ll suck now that we don’t have a job but--wait,” Jungkook scrolled on his phone, “___, check your bank account.” 

You stared in disbelief at the obscene amount of extra zeros that had magically appeared in your balance. Yoongi must have transferred what was left of the VEC funds to you and Jungkook at some point. Thinking about Yoongi looking out for you one final time made you tear up again. 

“I’ll drop you guys off wherever you want. I’m assuming neither of you know how to fly so I’m calling dibs on the private jet,” Jungkook stood up.

“Bold of you to assume I don’t have a piloting license, but you can take it since Taehyung hates flying,” you rolled your eyes at Jungkook before continuing, “Tae do you want to go back to your estate?”

“We don’t have to. I like the idea of starting anew,” Taehyung smiled.

“How does Paris sound?” you offered. 

“C’est magnifique. I’m sure we’ll find a way to start a successful flower shop there,” Taehyung nodded in agreement. 

It had been five years since the VEC was destroyed. You never knew what a normal life was like, but now you wouldn’t trade it for the world. Sure, your new “normal” still technically wasn’t normal since you needed to consume blood to live and the sun was your mortal enemy, but you made it work. 

Business was booming. “Min’s Blossoms” was the name of your flower shop, and every day was an adventure. Having Taehyung as your business partner proved to be more beneficial than you thought. Other than his floral expertise, his appearance is what really got the business off the ground. Apparently, rumors of a mysterious and handsome man who worked at a local flower shop were being spread around the city. Women flocked to the store to catch a glimpse of Taehyung, and soon they all started buying flowers just for a chance to talk to him. Taehyung was worried that that might upset you, but you reassured him that you were happy that the store was doing so well so early on.

Now Min’s Blossoms had become part of the Paris landscape along with all the other little fancy boutiques. Taehyung was in charge of putting together orders, while you handled most of the business side. Your teamwork was impeccable and made even the busiest days enjoyable. 

“Are you happy?” Taehyung asked one morning while in bed.

��Honestly, I didn’t think it was possible to be this happy,” you rolled over to kiss his forehead.

“Do you ever miss your old life?” he prodded.

“Why so many questions today? As much as I loved brutally murdering monsters and constantly putting my life on the line, I would say no. This life is more pleasant. How ironic is it that I had to die in order to truly live,” you stared off into the distance as you uttered that last sentence.

“My apologies, I only wanted to ask since I know you tend to get pensive during this time of the year,” Taehyung stroked your cheek. 

“Thanks for always being so sweet to me. I love you, Tae,” you whisper before leaning in for a kiss. 

What started as an innocent kiss soon turned into something more tainted when your hand found its way to Taehyung’s already hard cock (who knew vampires can still get morning wood?). He didn’t let you take the lead as he pushed you flat on your back and pressed his thigh against your cunt. You giggled as he kissed a trail down your neck and over your collarbones as he fondled your breasts. He latched his mouth onto one of your breasts and his tongue swirled around your nipple as his free hand ripped off your panties. 

Taehyung’s fingers slipped inside you easily since you were already sopping wet for him. He smirked as the curl of his fingers made you moan and squirm beneath him. Taehyung pulled away from your breast with a satisfying “pop” and slid down to face your bare pussy. He licked shallow stripes along your folds to tease you, and let out a low chuckle when you whined for more. He placed a finger on your clit and started to rub it rapidly, not giving you any time to adjust to the intense sensation. It only took a few seconds before you were moaning and shaking at his touch.

Taehyung wasn’t finished. He went back to eating you out while pumping two fingers inside of you. The overstimulation had you seeing stars. You cried out as you came again, drenching his chin with your juices. Taehyung gave you a satisfactory grin as he rose from between your legs to align his dick with your dripping pussy.

You groaned as he filled you up. He went slow at first, his eyes closed with pleasure. You gazed at him fondly while he fucked you. He was so beautiful even when your cum was on his chin and his sweaty hair was stuck to his forehead. Taehyung opened his eyes and looked down at you with a smile. He leaned forward to kiss you once more as he snapped his hips against you. 

“You’re gonna make fun of me for cumming so soon. But I can’t help it when you’re wetter than usual,” he panted as his strokes became sloppier. 

“I won’t complain, you already made me cum this morning, now it’s your turn,” you answered between moans. Taehyung grunted as he came inside of you, his hot semen filling you up. He gave you one final kiss before collapsing beside you. 

“You know, you never told me how I saved your life,” you said after a while.

“Hmm?” Taehyung hummed.

“You mentioned it the night you turned me,” you clarified. 

“Ah, yes. My life had been meaningless for a long time before you came. For a while I was contemplating on ending it myself. But you came along and rescued me. You gave me purpose again,” he explained.

“Wow. Not to be cheesy, but you did the same for me. Honestly my life was mundane before you,” you blushed.

“Surely the best vampire hunter in the world led an exciting life,” Taehyung teased. 

“I suppose I did, but I would take a lifetime with you over it any day,” you smiled, “I love you, my little vampire.”

“I love you too, ___. There’s no one else I’d rather spend eternity with.”

Published December 14, 2020. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed. All Rights Reserved © 2020 Baepsaesbae.

[queenxxxsupreme]

I was wondering if you could write something with a plus sized reader? It can be any of the witchers and/or Jaskier (although I think esk, lam, & jask would work best). Can be more focused on them finding the reader attractive/hot? I see lots of fics and headcannons abt plus size readers that are all about insecurities and finding the reader beautiful and aethestically pleasing. I'm plus size and I think I am beautiful, just not... attractive. looking hot and looking pretty/beautiful are different. idk if that makes sense I just want someone to think I'm hot. It can be NSFW or funny and fluffy. if you aren't comfortable writing this that's cool too. I just really like your writing. You have created a really welcoming community/page and I felt comfortable enough asking. I appreciate it so much. Thank you. 💜

A/N: I love this ask!!! Though I’m not sure I followed the prompt properly…. :( I wanted to do Lambert very badly which is part of the reason why it took so long to do but I couldn’t make it work with the prompt so I ended up doing Jaskier. I hope you liked it babe!

Warnings: no smut but Jaskier is a cheeky bastard and suggests NSFW 18+ things so if you aren’t into that please don’t read! also mentions of poor self image but Jaskier makes it better

***

You watched the tailor and seamstress murmur to each other in a language you didn’t understand. The seamstress said something, gesturing to the skirt you wore. Then she looked back at the tailor who shook his head disapprovingly. 

Their eyes seemed to drill holes into you. You suddenly felt so stupid for letting Jaskier talk you into coming to this expensive shop to be professionally fitted for a dress to match his outfit for the gala in two nights. 

But he was just so excited about the gala. It was the first time you’d be meeting the famed Geralt of Rivia as well as a few of Jaskier’s other friends he had met on his journeys with the witcher. 

You felt saddened that he was so eager to take you to the gala. Surely you'd only make him look like a fool in front of his friends and comrades. 

“Dear? Are you listening?” Jaskier placed his hand on the back of your calf as he moved around the stool you were balanced upon. 

You brought your eyes down to him. 

“Hm? Oh, erm, yes. Of course, I-I was.” 

He frowned. 

“No, you’ve got something else on your mind. What is it?”

You shook your head, smoothing out the material to your dress. 

“Nothing, Jask. It’s fine.”

“Tell me, please.” He reached up to take your hand in his, brushing his thumb along your knuckles. 

You kept your eyes on him for a few moments before looking in the direction of the seamstress and tailor. They no longer looked at you but they were still gesturing in your direction. 

“It’s just silly, Jaskier.” You shook your head. 

“You look upset, darling. It’s not silly if it’s upsetting you. Step down for a second, my sweet.” Jaskier held your hand as you stepped down from the stool. He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, looking at you with furrowed brows. “Please tell me. Did something happen?”

You shook your head, chewing on the inside of your cheek. 

“Can you understand what they’re saying?”

“Of course.” Jaskier nodded. “They’re talking about putting ruffles in your skirt. Alma thinks a few would be a good idea to add some at the bottom but Derion is completely against the very thought of ruffles.”

You could practically feel the weight lift off of your shoulders. You almost laughed. 

“Really?”

“I know. I don’t think ruffles are a good idea, but Alma is an incredibly talented seamstress. She has an eye for creating beauties. But sadly ruffles will not be happening today.” Jaskier waved the two over. “With all do respect to you, darling Alma, I think we should pass on the ruffles this time.”

“Bastard.” Alma swatted her hand in his direction. 

“Let’s move on from the skirt.” Derion waved his hand dismissively. “For the bust. It’s the most important part. It will take Alma hours to bead together intricate detailing to match your doublet, Master Julian. She needs to know how you’d like it done in order to begin working.” 

“Right.” Jaskier placed his hand on the small of your back. “I’m thinking a rather cheeky neckline. Perhaps an off the shoulder neckline that goes a little deeper than what’s traditionally seen.”

“Jaskier!” Your cheeks flushed as you looked at him. 

“Darling, it will be absolutely fantastic! Show a bit of your chest off! Show everyone how sexy you are.”

“Jaskier.”

“It appears as though you have yet to come to an agreement on a top.” Derion spoke, looking between you two. “When my lady decides on what style of top she’d like, please do let us know. Until then, Alma, let’s continue with the skirt while they chat.” 

You watched the two move towards the desk off to the side of the room. 

“Jaskier–,”

“Just picture this, my love.” Jaskier cut you off, his hand leaving your back as he moved to stand in front of you. “The corset is supporting your bust, holding the girls up and putting them on display–,”

“For the entire gala to see?” You widened your eyes. “What are you trying to do? Make your friends think I’m some strumpet?”

“No! No! Of course not! I think you’d look sexy like that.” Jaskier put his hand on your hip. “And the corset will accentuate your figure–,”

“The figure I don’t have.” You turned away from him, making your way towards the chairs that sat near the windows. You were thankful the curtains were drawn. This gave you some privacy from the outside world. 

“What? That’s ridiculous. You have a figure. A marvelous one at that.” Jaskier followed behind you. 

“I have the same figure as an apple, Jaskier. Or a pumkin. Round and-and large and just.... There’s nothing you should be so eager to show off at the gala.” You sat down in one of the seats, your voice quivering as you fought to keep your emotions at bay. 

Jaskier knelt down in front of you, his hands taking yours in his own. His touch, calloused from years of playing instruments, was warm as he gave you a squeeze. 

He didn’t know what to say at first. He was upset with himself for having not noticed that you were uncomfortable earlier. He was upset with himself for making you uncomfortable.

“Love-,”

“And don’t- Jaskier, please don’t try to tell me I’m not.” You whispered, unable to meet his gaze as tears blurred your vision. “I know I am. If you deny it, it’ll be like denying that the sky is blue or that-that grass is green.”

Jaskier nodded softly, understanding your words. He let the silence sit between you for a few more moments. He reached up to wipe your cheeks. Then he moved to sit in the seat next to you, keeping your hands in his.

“You know, my favorite shade of blue is just after the sun sets.” He murmured. “It’s dark and it’s ominous, but it’s stunning to see planets begin to show even though the sun hasn’t set yet. It’s like they’re beginning to come out of hiding. And my favorite shade of green is much more specific than that. Do you remember that time we laid in the lupin field just outside of Cintra all day?”

“Of course I remember that.” You sniffled, a little smile coming to your lips. “You read and sang to me all day. It was a beautiful day.”

“That day is my favorite shade of green.” Jaskier rubbed the back of your hand. He leaned in to kiss the corner of your eye. “And that night…. That night was when I realized my favorite shade of blue, you know?”

Your heart began to race a little quicker. That evening in the lupine field had been rather romantic and intimate. It was one of your favorite memories with the bard. 

Jaskier took a deep breath, looking across the room to the seamstress and tailor for a moment to make sure they were occupied with something else. 

“Dear heart, you know I would make sure the dress they create makes you look nothing short of the goddess you are.”

“I-I don’t…. I don’t have that same faith, Jaskier.” You shook your head, looking away from him to one of the paintings on the wall. It was of a beautiful woman in a stunning violet dress. She was thinner than you and the dress she wore made sure to show what curves she had off.

“You don’t have faith in me?” He asked softly.

“I don’t have faith in myself. You keep saying I’m going to look sexy and that you want to put me on display-,”

“Y/N, I was only joking. I’m so sorry if it made you uncomfortable. I meant absolutely no harm by it.” Jaskier put his hand on your knee. “I just- My gods, Y/N. The very idea of you in the dress I envision. Everyone is going to be fucking staring. On second thought, perhaps it wouldn’t be a good idea to put you in a dress similar to that. In the off chance that I’d be able to take my eyes off of you, I’d have to fight anyone who dared to look at you.”

He wore the biggest grin on his lips and you knew he meant well by it. He really did. But your stomach churned at the thought.

“They’ll be staring because I’ll look absolutely ridiculous.” You turned your head away from him. “Ladies like me weren’t made for galas and ballgowns.”

“I happen to think you are perfect for a ballgown, my dear.” He leaned over to kiss your ear. “I know you don’t see it, but you are absolutely sexy. Hell, if I had a say in it, you wouldn’t even be wearing a gown. But there are going to be other people there and I can’t have anyone else seeing your gorgeous body.” 

Your cheeks flushed.

“Can I offer you a little deal? A peace treaty?” Jaskier suggested. You looked at him, meeting his blue gaze. “They have a dress cut similar to the one I’d like to be made for you. Can you try it on for me before we make any decisions today?”

You nodded your head, letting out a little breath. You would at least try it on and let him see how ridiculous you’d look. If you proved him wrong now, maybe he’d listen to you in the future. 

“Will it fit me?”

“They can make it work for you so you can at least get an idea of the style.”

“Okay.”

“Excellent.” He gave you a kiss on the temple before going across the room to Alma and Derion. He spoke to them in the language you didn’t know. It was a beautiful language. As he said the words he had the ability to make it sound otherworldly. How could one man, a human no less, make words sound angelic? 

Derion and Alma left the room together. Jaskier clasped his hands behind his back, leaned forward to watch where they had disappeared. Alma returned moments later alone. In her hands she held a dress. 

The dress was dark green but that was all you could tell.

“I’ll give you a moment to get dressed. Take good care of her, Alma.”

“I will. You worry about yourself, Master Julian.” Alma waved him away. 

You wanted to object, to say that you could get dressed by yourself, but you knew very well you wouldn’t be able to. You didn’t want to rip the dress. The material was probably more expensive than you could afford. 

“Take off your dress, darling.” Alma placed the dress over a nearby chair. “I’ll grab pins so that we can pin the dress in place.”

“Pin?” You repeated. “In place?”

“Yes, darling. It wasn’t made for your body. We need to make the dress work for your figure so we do that by manipulating the fabric with pins. Don’t worry, you won’t feel a thing.”

***

Alma called for Jaskier after the dress was situated properly on you. 

You nervously moved back and forth as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other to get a better look in the mirror. 

The dress fit you decently. It was loose fitting in the chest but Alma fixed that with pins. She pinned a few other spots too but they were in the back so you couldn’t see all that well. 

The material was a beautiful emerald green silk with darker green embroidery around the bust. The off the shoulder neckline wasn’t terribly low in the middle where it dipped down, but it was lower cut than what you would usually wear. 

“Now remember, darling. The corset will be tighter on you and be providing support.” Alma spoke as she moved around the stool you were resting on. 

“My gods, Y/N! I love it!” Jaskier clapped his hands together. “Just wait until we get it in the blue to match my doublet!”

“Alma!” Derion called for Alma. 

Alma excused herself, leaving you alone with Jaskier. 

He moved around the stool, admiring the dress on you. 

“Before I lose myself in my own thoughts, love, what do you think?” Jasier clasped his hands together and held them near his mouth. 

You looked back to the mirror, shifting a little. 

“I don’t…. hate it as much as I thought I would.” You admitted. 

“But do you like it? Are you comfortable with the style? Be completely honest with my, darling. If you aren’t, there is no worry at all! I’ll have them make a style you are comfortable in. I want you to be comfortable first. No matter what you wear you will be absolutely gorgeous and breathtaking and I will be ripping the dress off of you come the end of the night.”

“Jaskier.” You scolded. He gave you a cheeky smile. “I do like the cut and I like the off the shoulder part, but perhaps if we could add sleeves to it?”

“Of course! Oh that would be stunning! I’ll let Alma and Derion know. Anything else you want to add or take away?”

“I don’t think so.” You looked back to the mirror. “I think I’ll like it more once it’s in the blue. I do like the green, but the blue will match your doublet for the gala. And the green makes me sort of feel like a melon.”

Jaskier frowned.

“I wish you’d stop comparing yourself to fruits.” 

“Would you rather a toad? ‘Cause I look like one of those in this dark green too. A rather large toad.”

“If you are a toad, then what would that make me?” He held his hand out for you so he could assist you in stepping down from the stool.

“My pretty princess.” You giggled. 

“Hmm. Well you are the sexiest toad I have ever seen.” He pulled you into his arms. “But I rather like calling you a fruit. You taste just like one-,”

“Jaskier!”

Taglist: @pressedinthepages @mishafaye @whitewolfandthefox @wolfyland07 @belalugosisdead @persephonehemingway @keira-hulmaster @dinonuggs69 @greatestauthorofmygeneration @shadow-hunters-lover @dancingwith-thesunflowers @tedi-fach-las @thecomfortofoldstorries @natkowaa @disasteren @weathervanes-my-oneandlonely @onlyhenrys @wackylurker @criminaly-supernatural @magpie343 @permanently-exhausted-witcher @genderfluid-ho @the-space-between-heartbeats @havenoffandoms @carriebee1 @ger-bearofrivia @naominami @writingawaymylife @reaganjenelle @theawkwardpedestrian @scarlettwitcher @badassspaceprincess @just-a-sad-donut @summersong69 @an--actual--human--disaster @rubyqueen819 @omgkatinka @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @vonxcon @mazakeen @bravelittlesunflower @thereagles @awkward-turtles-world @menalliha @cotton_mo @maan24 @thefirelordm @monkeymo @krenee1drful @nympha-door-a @unadulteratedtreecrusade @Aquarius-pisces-rose @mentallyscreamingsincebirth @fl0ating @sometimesiwrite @you-fxcking-wish-bish @thanks-bruh-for-nothing @maan2442 @thegaydeath @creatingstuffinpeace @wellthisstinks @andyrazzledazzle @ameliasmistake @winterwolf @caraqas @bluscryn @thefirelordm @y-napotat @henrycavillbesty @ta-ka-shi-ma @sulkyshengshou @spaced-out-state @thecollection @mayday1284 @babietrain @wandering-poetess @redneckstrash

If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

[hopelikethemoon]

today (Javier x Reader) [smut]

Title: today Length: 3,200 Warnings: Angst, rough sex (shower sex, biting, unprotected), lots of fluff, parenthood, blood.  Summary: Set a year after maybe, Javier and Reader come to terms with their relationship.  Notes: So I’m literally terrified that this drabble will not hold up to the glory of maybe and I almost didn’t publish this. BUT I AM CAUSE YOLO. Shoutout to @rzrcrst​ for providing me with the best possible name for the baby. 

The morning sun still managed to get through your opaque curtains, cutting harsh shadows across your bedroom as it shone brightly past the vinyl blinds. You nestled a little deeper into your pillow, trying to cling to those last few precious moments of sleep. Any second now your daughter would start crying — the new normal for your daily sunrises. 

Javier, however, seemed determined to find a new morning ritual. 

Now that you were awake, the possessive arm that he always kept wrapped around you had started to move downwards. Fingertips trailing over your stomach, tracing over the stretchmarks there, worshipping your soft flesh. You sighed softly as his hand moved lower beneath the waistband of your sleep shorts, slipping between your thighs. 

“Morning,” He whispered as he pressed his lips to your shoulder as he dragged his fingers between your folds. You had lost count of how many mornings he had tried, in vain, to initiate sex. You could feel his stiff cock straining through his boxers and pressing against the back of your thigh as he curled close behind you. 

You reached behind you, pushing your fingers through his hair as you parted your thighs for him. As much as you wanted him, you knew it wasn’t meant to be. Like clockwork your daughter would start crying — ruining any chance for waking up in your favorite fashion. 

Three. Two. One. 

Javier pressed his face into the crook of your neck and groaned, “Every damn morning.” He complained, pulling his hand out from between your thighs, releasing you so you could go to her. 

It had been months. You had still been pregnant the last time you had Javier between your thighs. You missed it — desperately — but there just wasn’t any time. 

No one at the DEA knew who the father was. You had both decided, early on, that it was for the best. Sure, some of the guys treated you like a two-bit whore when you said you didn’t know who the father was, but at least they weren’t trying to edge you out of the department because you were fucking your partner. 

By the time you emerged from the nursery with a freshly changed and fed baby, Javier was already showered and dressed, sitting at your kitchen table nursing a cup of black coffee. You gave him a sympathetic smile, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek. “Maybe tonight?”

Javier pursed his lips and shook his head. “I got stuck on the stakeout.” He took a sip of his coffee, before sitting it further up on the table so he could take Josie from you. He held her up in the air, much to her enjoyment. She adored him, almost as much as he adored her. 

“I just fed her,” You warned him, running your hand over his shoulders before you headed towards the fridge to retrieve milk for your cereal. 

“I don’t know how people do it,” Javier remarked, glancing back over his shoulder at you. “I had friends back home in Texas who had kids stacked up.” 

You laughed as you moved to settle down beside him at the table.  “Yeah...I have no idea how people have Irish twins.” You made a face. “If she’s not screaming, we’re both too tired...” 

“I can’t believe I’m admitting this aloud, but I’m getting fucking tired of my own hand.” He complained, before showering his daughter with kisses as he bounced her on his lap. 

“Her first word is going to be fucking if you’re not careful,” You teased. “Which is ironic, all things considered.” 

Javier gave you a dirty look, though his lips still quirked upwards with amusement. “She’s going to be four months old in a week.” He reminded you. 

“I know.” You propped your chin up on your palm as you watched him with her. No one at the office knew what he was like within the safety of your apartment. “How late do you think it’ll be tonight?”

“Probably late enough that I’ll just go take a shower and head into the office.”

You nodded, scooping up some cereal then. “I figured.”

“You do still want—“

“Yes.” You answered before he could even finish the sentence. “I keep hoping one morning she won’t interrupt us.”

“Knowing us, we’d just worry about why she wasn’t crying.” Javier rolled his eyes, before talking in a teasing voice to her. “Little Miss Josie enjoys interrupting mommy and daddy. Don’t you?” He tickled her sides and she squealed and giggled. He glanced up at you, “You’re sure…?”

“Javi.” You laughed, your cheeks turning red. “Trust me, I miss it just as much as you do.” 

He smirked. “You’re driving me crazy, baby.” Javier snorted, glancing down at his daughter. “You too, Josie.” 

“Luckily it’s a short drive.” You taunted with a self-satisfied grin, finishing off the last of your cereal and holding your hands out for her. “Good luck tonight, in case we don’t get a moment alone at work.” 

Javier rose to his feet, settling his hand at your hip as he looked between you and Josie. “I’m gonna miss my girls tonight.” 

“We’re going to miss you too.” You tilted your chin, smiling up at him as he leaned down to kiss you. Josie squawked over not being the center of attention, her chubby little hands grabbing at your faces. 

“And I’ll see you tomorrow, lil’ miss.” He took her from you once more, playfully lifting Josie up in the air just to make her giggle. Javier grinned at you as he cradled her against his chest. Despite all of his initial hesitations about parenthood — he’d become an incredible father. You were fairly certain Josie was well on her way to being a daddy’s girl, just from how her sweet face lit up whenever he was around. 

——

The rest of the day went by in a blur. 

You dropped Josie off at the sitter down the hall from your apartment, a sweet older woman who you were certain Josie would grow up to call her abuelita. The nice part was that she had zero connections with the DEA, which meant both you and Javier were listed as her emergency contacts. One of the few places he was free to be acknowledged as her father. 

Work dragged on for an eternity. Javier spent most of the day in and out of meetings in preparation for the stakeout, looking more stressed than usual. Especially when the CIA showed up for one of the late-afternoon briefings. 

“Seems like a shit show,” You remarked to Javi as he came back from the break room with a styrofoam cup of stale coffee. 

He grunted his response as he sank down at his desk across from you, glowering in your direction. “You have no idea.” 

You weren’t alone in the bullpen of desks. 

Chris, one of the lower level DEA agents, chimed in. “I guess every stakeout can’t be at a brothel. Eh, Peña?” He laughed, like it was the funniest damn thing he’d ever said. 

“Damn shame.” Javier offered with a blasé tone, sipping at his coffee. Even though you’d lowered your gaze back to the mounting stack of papers on your desk, you knew he was watching you. 

You’d managed to keep the charade in place for a year now, but sometimes it felt like the universe was testing your patience. Mostly it was just Chris, trying desperately to seem like he fit in around the office. He was obviously supposed to fill the void that Murphy left behind, but instead, he just became the gopher for whatever task Javier wasn’t in the mood to put up with. 

“How’s the kiddo?” Chris asked as he leaned back in his seat and propped his legs up on his desk. 

“She’s fine.” You answered crisply, offering a faint smile before shuffling your papers like you were busy. 

“My girl’s been nagging me about kids. I told her — I don’t know if that’s for me. You know?” He wadded up a piece of paper and chucked it across the room, where it joined a pile of crumpled papers that hadn’t made it into the bin. “When’d you decide kids weren’t for you, Peña?”

Javier snorted, “I ain’t dead yet.” 

Dissatisfied with Javier’s answer, Chris turned his attention back to you. “Well, I think it’s real modern of you to be a working mom. “I think Van Ness was raised by a single mom. He turned out okay.” 

“I’m sure Josie will turn out just like her mom,” Javier interjected, getting up from his desk to throw Chris’ paper mess away in the bin. He passed behind your desk and gave your shoulder a friendly squeeze, though you knew exactly what those three little squeezes meant. “I hate to abandon this riveting conversation, but I gotta head out.” He nodded his head towards Chris, before leaving with a lingering look in your direction. 

——

The little chain attached to your bedside lamp clinked against the metal base as it swung freely. The warm golden light cut through the darkness of your bedroom, casting ominous shadows across Javier’s face as he stood in the doorway. You were relieved, at first, to see him — until you took account of the dark stains that colored his pale blue shirt. The crimson that was smeared across his cheek.

“Javi—” You started, throwing your covers back as you moved towards him. “What the hell happened?” Your eyes raked over him, looking for the source of the blood. “Are you hurt?”

“Daniel.” He answered lowly, “He got shot.” 

Javier flinched when you reached out to touch him, his hand flying up to grab your wrists. He squeezed it tightly, just this side of pain. You could feel the tension radiating off of him, the barely contained rage flowing through him. The after-effects of a firefight. 

“Don’t.” Javier warned as you started to reach out for him with the hand that wasn’t caught in his vice-like grip. 

“Tell me what happened.” 

He looked away, brows furrowed and his jaw working tightly. “The intel was bad. Shit was a setup.” He loosened his hold on your wrist, letting his arms drop down by his sides. “He’ll live. Barely.” 

“Good.” Your heart was still racing from the alarm of being awoken in the middle of the night. Javier was lucky you recognized his footsteps, otherwise, you would’ve been forced to use the gun in your nightstand. “You didn’t answer me.” 

“I’m fine.” He gritted out, but you knew that wasn’t the case. Maybe he was physically unharmed, but his demeanor told another story. He’d been through hell and back and his first instinct was to come home to you. Bloodied and brooding, you were the person he sought out when nothing made sense. 

Javier didn’t pull away when you reached for him again. You brushed your fingertips over his forehead, trailing them down along the rise of his cheekbone. His expression softened subtly as he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. “Let me take care of you.” You whispered, taking his hand into yours. “You need a shower.” Not only was he covered in blood, but you could smell the adrenaline-fueled sweat clinging to his skin. 

He nodded stiffly and let you guide him out of your bedroom and down the hall to the bathroom. His clothes came off easily, his ruined shirt abandoned on the floor, joined moments later by his dark denim jeans that were darkened in spots by Daniel’s blood. 

Neither of you spoke as you helped him undress. Words just weren’t necessary as you turned the shower on and watched him step behind the sliding glass door. Nothing even needed to be said when you followed him in, still dressed in your sleep shorts and a tank top. 

The warm water washed the blood off his skin, turning the water red around your bare feet. You dragged a washcloth over his neck and jaw, wiping away what the water couldn’t claim. Your soft touches couldn’t ease all of the tension in his body. He was holding it all in, desperate to keep control of his emotions. 

Javier crowded you back against the wall of the shower, breathing raggedly as he stared down at you — like a predator with its prey. Something snapped; the tension, the desire, the rush of emotions. His fingers clawed at your sleep shorts, dragging the damp fabric down your hips. You surged up to kiss him, fingers curling around the back of his neck as your mouth slanted against his. A clash of teeth, a twist of tongues, desperate and bruising and fueled by a need. 

He tore at your tank top, freeing one breast and roughly palming at it. It had been months since you’d been touched like this. Any attempt at intimacy had come from early morning interrupted fumbles and half-asleep groping that inevitably ended in snoring. 

“Please.” You hissed out, fingernails dragging down the back of his neck, pressing close to him. His rigid cock was trapped between your bellies and you groaned at the mere thought of having him in you again. 

Javier’s teeth dragged over your bottom lip with just enough pressure that you were certain your lip would be swollen tomorrow. You didn’t care. You’d wear the marks he gave you, in trade for the ones he wore that were beneath the skin. 

His fingers twisted in your hair, a harsh grip as he turned you around to face the wall. Your tender breasts pressed against the cool tile, a shiver racing down your spine. He kissed the back of your neck, tongue tracing water droplets that cling to your shoulder. His teeth found purchase on a tender spot of skin where your neck became your shoulder and you tried not to cry out. 

You wanted Josie to stay asleep. You needed Javier too much to stop. 

His fingers grabbed at your thigh, fingers pressing into soft flesh harshly enough to bruise. He used his knee to nudge your legs apart wider, positioning you just right. 

Javier released his grip on your hair, using his hand to cover your mouth. Your teeth scraped against his palm, finding purchase in the skin to muffle the moan that escaped you as he guided his cock into you. He pressed in until your ass was pressed against his hips — filling you completely. 

You pried his hand off your mouth, panting out his name. He wasn’t moving and you desperately needed him to move. You clenched around him, trying to spur him on and it worked. 

He fucked you like his life depended on it. All of that tension he’d balled up inside of himself came flooding out of him with every brutal snap of his hips. You were trapped between the wall and his cock — fingers grabbed at the forearm he had securely wrapped around your waist, keeping you pinned against him. 

His other hand was wedged between your thighs, roughly stroking at your clit in time with his pace. It almost hurt, how hard you came apart for him. Your body bowed back against his chest, hands uselessly grabbing at the wet shower wall for support. 

Javier’s teeth left a mark on your shoulder as he followed behind you. All it took was two sharp thrusts and you felt him spill within you, his cock throbbing as you clenched around him desperately. The water had gone cold above you, but that wasn’t the only reason you were trembling. Despite how roughly he had handled you, in the aftermath he lavished your tender skin with soft kisses and touches, trying to ease the pain he’d caused.

It wasn’t until Javier’s cock slid out of you and you were able to turn around to face him that you saw how red his eyes were. If you didn’t know better, you would’ve mistaken his tears for the water droplets flowing down his cheeks from the showerhead. But you knew him. Better than anyone else did.

Javier wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. You didn’t care how cold the water got above you, you played with his hair and held him while he sobbed into your shoulder. 

——

When the first light of morning crept in through your windows, you were surprised to find the bed empty beside you. Instinctively, you got out of bed and made your way down the hall to the nursery. Your heart clenched as you pushed the door open and found Javier inside. 

He was sound asleep on the floor beside Josie’s crib, his hand wedged between the gap in the bars. Josie had fallen asleep with her little hand wrapped around his fingers. You quietly stepped further inside, leaving the door partially open so the sound of the door shutting wouldn’t disturb them. You moved towards the rocking chair in the corner of the room, taking the blanket off the arm. As you turned back around, Javier stirred — blinking groggily up at you. 

You pressed a finger to your lips to keep him quiet as you sat down on the floor beside him. You unfolded the blanket over your laps, settling yourself into his side, resting your cheek against his chest. 

Javier kissed the top of your head, curling his arm around your shoulders. “I want to tell them.” He whispered into your hair. 

You shifted beside him so you could cup his cheek, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips. “Then we’ll tell them today.” 

Daniel getting shot had broken something within him. He hadn’t said it, but you knew. You understood it. That fear. Now that you had a kid, the DEA didn’t put you into as many dangerous situations — but Javi was still out there getting shot at, playing Russian Roulette with his life. It could’ve easily been Javier who had gotten shot last night and you wouldn’t have known until you walked into work and read a report. 

“Javi,” You started, tracing your fingertips over his collarbone as you watched him. 

“Mhm?”

“I want you to move in.” 

Javier grinned back at you, his fingers squeezing your shoulder three short times. “Thought you’d never ask, baby.” 

Josie whimpered softly in her crib and you couldn’t help but laugh. “I was wondering when that was going to happen.”

Javier got up to get her before joining you on the floor again, leaning back against the crib. “You’re going to get so sick of me.” He said in a teasing voice to Josie as he propped her up against his bent knees. “Daddy’s going to be here all the time now.”

You scooted close, resting your head on his shoulder. “I don’t think she could ever get sick of you.” 

“What about you?”

“Jury’s out on that one.” You pulled back a little to look at him, lips pursed together thoughtfully. “There’s always the potential.” 

The morning felt like any other. 

Javier dressed while Josie nursed. He had coffee made and on the table when you came into the kitchen. He entertained the baby while you made yourself a bowl of cereal. 

But today he didn’t leave before you. 

Today, your car didn’t leave the parking lot. 

Today, Javi drove to work with his hand on your thigh, rubbing those annoying little circles of his into your leg. 

Today, you stole a kiss from him in the elevator. 

Today, you didn’t care what anyone thought. 

Today, Javier wasn’t just your partner — he was Josie’s father. 

[accioromione]

Things that people/characters judge Ron by /use as a joke that makes 0 sense to me

So as we all know. We read the books from Harry’s point of view. Here are my issues with how Ron was treated. 

1. His food habits - this has to be the most annoying part about the series. J.K Rowling is partly to blame. She is always highlighting how Ron’s on his ‘sixth chocolate frog’ or how he’s always hungry, or going further on about his food habits, that it overrides moments of when Ron shares food or plates it for other people. For instance

 'Course, once Dumbledore turned up on your side, there was no way they were going to convict you,' said Ron happily, now dishing great mounds of mashed potato on to everyone's plates. 

One sentence, simple, no elaboration, just a simple ‘on to everyone’s plates’, much easier to forget than something like this

'Oh, yes,' said Nick, who seemed glad of a reason to turn away from Ron, who was now eating roast potatoes with almost indecent enthusiasm. 'Yes, I have heard the Hat give several warnings before, always at times when it detects periods of great danger for the school. And always, of course, its advice is the same: stand together, be strong from within.'

 'Ow kunnit nofe skusin danger ifzat?' said Ron.

 His mouth was so full Harry thought it was quite an achievement for him to make any noise at all.

 'I beg your pardon?' said Nearly Headless Nick politely, while Hermione looked revolted. Ron gave an enormous swallow and said, 'How can it know if the school's in danger if it's a Hat?'

 'I have no idea,' said Nearly Headless Nick. 'Of course, it lives in Dumbledore's office, so I daresay it picks things up there.'

 'And it wants all the houses to be friends?' said Harry, looking over at the Slytherin table, where Draco Malfoy was holding court. 'Fat chance.'

 'Well, now, you shouldn't take that attitude,' said Nick reprovingly. 'Peaceful co-operation, that's the key. We ghosts, though we belong to separate houses, maintain links of friendship. In spite of the competitiveness between Gryffindor and Slytherin, I would never dream of seeking an argument with the Bloody Baron.'

 'Only because you're terrified of him,' said Ron.

 Nearly Headless Nick looked highly affronted.

 Terrified? I hope I, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, have never been guilty of cowardice in my life! The noble blood that runs in my veins -'

 'What blood?' asked Ron. 'Surely you haven't still got - ?'

 'It's a figure of speech!' said Nearly Headless Nick, now so annoyed his head was trembling ominously on his partially severed neck. 'I assume I am still allowed to enjoy the use of whichever words I like, even if the pleasures of eating and drinking are denied me! But I am quite used to students poking fun at my death, I assure you!'

 'Nick, he wasn't really laughing at you!' said Hermione, throwing a furious look at Ron.

 Unfortunately, Ron's mouth was packed to exploding point again and all he could manage was 'Node iddum eentup sechew,' which Nick did not seem to think constituted an adequate apology. Rising into the air, he straightened his feathered hat and swept away from them to the other end of the table, coming to rest between the Creevey brothers, Colin and Dennis.

 'Well done, Ron,' snapped Hermione

As you all see, J.K Rowling went out of her way to make the way Ron is eating noticed, and the way Harry and Hermione react to it. I absolutely hate this. I hate how the characters look at his food habits and I hate the way readers now remember him by. Ron is about 6′3 (maybe even taller), he is a teenage boy who is GROWING, and is also skinny. It is COMPETLEY NORMAL for him to eat like how he does. He is the YOUNGEST SON of 5 older brothers, he is used to having to eat food quickly. I don’t understand why this became a thing of judgement, he is allowed to be hungry. When other character’s are hungry, it’s fine, no one addresses it, but when it’s Ron of course Hermione has to look disgusted. Meanwhile, look at the reaction’s the occur when Harry is hungry... 

"So you persuaded Horace Slughorn to take the job?"

Harry nodded, his mouth so full of hot soup that he could not speak.

"He taught Arthur and me," said Mrs. Weasley. "He was at Hog-warts for ages, started around the same time as Dumbledore, I think. Did you like him?"

His mouth now full of bread, Harry shrugged and gave a noncommittal jerk of the head.

"I know what you mean," said Mrs. Weasley, nodding wisely. "Of course he can be charming when he wants to be, but Arthur's never liked him much. The Ministry's littered with Slughorn's old favorites, 

No looks of disgust from Mrs. Weasley? If it was Ron I bet you Mrs. Weasley would have been like, ‘slow down Ron!’ or something to shame him for being hungry and this is just not O.K. LET RON EAT. LET HIM BE A GROWING BOY. WHY DOES HE HAVE TO BE SHAMED FOR BEING HUNGRY? 

Okay onto number 2. His insecurities. 

In my opinion, it started off O.K and then after GOF it became something that was like..characters were like ‘yeah O.K Ron’s insecure we get it,’ like in GOF Hermione goes from understanding him to the point where she explains to Harry, don’t you see, it’s hard for him always being compared to people, to OOTP where she’s like shut up with your jealousy Ron you’re sooo annoying. It particularly pisses me off in HBP when Hermione is like going out of her way to compliment Harry and Ron is clearly annoyed with it. And Hermione just ignores Ron like it’s an inconvenience that he’s insecure. I personally would never go out of my way to compliment one friend and ignore the other, especially when tha other friend looks bothered. We see this trend with other characters, who make fun of him for being insecure. The whole Weasley is our King is literally a song that abuses Ron’s lack of confidence in order to make him choke up in quidditch, and no one thinks nor cares about the seriousness of just how insecure Ron is that even other houses can recognize it to use it for their advantage. They just roll their eyes at it like ‘ugh Ron stop being insecure’ and I feel like he deserved more sensitivity, rather than make it like, Ron needs to stop being an insecure prat. Harry is the KING of brushing out other peoples problems because he’s Harry Potter and he has BIGGER PROBLEMS. They ignored Ron to the point where Harry was surprised as to what was coming out of the locket, Harry should have known, he should have not treated it like a minor inconvenience. 

Number 3. His lack of ‘compassion,’ or ‘empathy’ 

We see it highlighted a few times. Harry has described Ron as lacking empathy in situations, or in being too blunt. And these situations tend to be, well, not serious situations, they’re also situations where he is 14 years old. However, when Ron is showing empathy and emotion it’s always brushed off. Like how he cried during Dumbledore’s funeral. Or how he was dealing with Harry’s tantrums, or how he was able to diffuse tension with jokes. It makes Ron appear as if he’s emotionally underdeveloped, but this is not the case, Ron lacks in lady knowledge, what teenage boys don’t? The reality is that Ron knows when to be serious, he IS emotionally mature. When Sirius dies he doesn’t interrogate Harry like Hermione does, he knows when to draw the boundary and respect space. 

Number 4. His status.

It’s often highlighted how he is poor, is a ‘nobody’, or is Harry’s friend by other characters. We see it in HBP with the slug club, we see it with the Slytherin’s. Here is my issue with this...yes he is a Weasley..but let’s look at all the Weasley’s. We have Bill, a curse breaker who married a Veela, Charlie a dragon hunter, Percy, who is high up in the ministry, Fred and George, who have a funny swagger and are popular with everyone, and Ginny, Ms. Badass. I just don’t understand why he was the only Weasley who really got made fun of for being well, a Weasley, why was it RON? Even in the slug club I don’t get it, Slughorn liked people with connections,��wouldn't he have had connections by Bill being is brother, or like his aunties? Cormac was taken in because of his uncle...And of course Ginny get’s invited. 

Number 5. The downplay of his accomplishments and the highlight of when he messes up. 

By convenience we don’t get to see How Gryffindor won the quidditch cup in fifth year because of Grawp, but we got to see him failing miserably before-hand. We don’t see him duelling the death eaters in the ministry, but we see him with the brains, although we know what he’s done, due to another character, or Ron telling us what he’s done, the readers get a limited amount of how many times that is actually described. 

Number 6. The tone J.K Rowling uses with Ron’s descriptions. 

Huge pet peeve of mine was how J.K Rowling decided to describe Ron’s owls marks. She gave Harry’s all laid out, and all we get for Ron is ‘Harry saw no O’s’ only to see that next book, they’re cleared for the exact same classes, meaning he got Exceeds Expectations in everything Harry did, like wtf? With ‘Harry saw no O’s’ that could mean 11 P’s, the only reason we know this is not the case is because Ron highlights how he only failed divination and history of magic, and how Molly says he got more than the twins combined. Without this, readers could have assumed anything as all they had to go by was ‘Harry saw no O’s,’ UGH it still bothers me. 

All in all, I think there was a tone implied in the novels that tried to downplay Ron’s character. And it’s sad because I think J.K Rowling knew she created such a likeable complex character, so she downplayed it. Making Ron suffer in the process. 

[atomic-taco-muffin]

Can you make a part 13 to the “MHA x Fem!Reader: Kingdom Hearts”

Kingdom Hearts Part 13

Warnings: Angst?

Rating: SFW

(A/N: this took forever!)

After Sora was able to save you and everyone else's hearts, he stood on the wasteland, his right hand clasped firmly in Kairi's left and your right hand in his left.

"You okay?" Kairi asked.

"Yeah. Thanks, Kairi," Sora said.

You and Kairi smiled back at him. When Sora looked around you all, he saw that all the others were there, too.

"it did work," he said. He felt the tight knot of emotions within him slowly coming undone. The despair had threatened to consume him--but it was thanks to all those he saw here now that he had made it back, including you and Class 1-A. Sora slowly released his grip on your and Kairi's hand. Everything was going to be okay. Donald and Goofy smiled valiantly.

"Of course!"

"Now point us back at those bad guys!"

The enthusiasm of you and everyone else filled Sora with relief, and he faced forward again.

"Right!" he said.

You all quickly agreed and got moving. Master Xehanort and his cohorts--the Real Organization XIII--awaited you all across the wastes.

Ventus was the first to catch sight of the figure up ahead amid the whirling dust.

“Terra!” he shouted, running off before you all could get a word in.

Aqua started after him, calling his name with a hint of apprehension. Ventus was unaware that Terra’s body was under Xehanort’s control. 

“That’s not him, is it?” Sero asked Denki, who nodded in response.

“Terra! We found you!” Ventus exclaimed as he took his friend’s hand. 

“Terra, please say you’re in there,” Aqua said in a more cautious voice. 

Instead of replying, Terra observed her quietly. His blue eyes seemed to stare right through her, and she placed a hand on Ventus’s shoulder to draw him away. 

“What gives, Aqua?” Ventus asked. 

“I know that you’re not him,” Aqua said as he placed herself before Ventus protectively. “Now, let our friend go!”

That was when Terra’s hair turned white, and his blue eyes turned to gold. 

“He is their thirteenth,” Mickey said softly. 

“Today is the day you all lose,” Terranort quietly told you all. 

“What?!” Aqua cried. A dark fog began to congeal behind Terranort.

“Before you even face the thirteen, every last one of you will be torn to heart from body. But fear not. The χ-blade will still be forged,” he said. 

He called his Keyblade to his hand. Beyond the dark fog, atop the cliffs looming above the wasteland, countless Keyblades stood thrust into the terrain like grave markers. 

“We’re not gonna lose to you,” you said. 

With a smirk at your challenge, Terranort launched himself at Ventus, closing the distance in a single moment, and dealt the boy with a devastating blow with his Keyblade--or he would’ve, if someone didn’t intercept the attack. 

“Who are you?” Terranort asked. The one who blocked and knocked away Terranort’s Keyblade was a man clad in armor. 

“Got you, Xehanort,” he said, forcing the possessed figure back. 

“Who is that?” Ochako asked. 

“Terra?” Aqua asked softly. That armor had once belonged to her friend. And what lay within it now...was Terra’s lingering will. Though there was no one physically in the armor now, the thoughts and desires dwelling within it were still fighting to protect everyone. 

“That’s Terra’s lingering will. After Xehanort possessed Terra, he was separated from his armor and that created the Lingering Will,” Denki said. 

“This is impossible!” Terranort said as he seemed panicked as the Lingering Will strode ominously toward him. 

“How I’ve waited for this moment.” 

Its Keyblade lashed like a whip and wrapped around Terranort’s weapon, and the Lingering Will yanked back its Keyblade with enough force to fling Terranort into the air. 

“Woah! That is so manly!” Kirishima said. 

“Stop saying manly, shitty hair! It’s getting annoying!” Bakugou said. 

“I ain’t gonna stop, Bakubro!” 

Terranort quickly let go of his ensnared Keyblade and adjusted his trajectory in midair so he could attack his armored foe head-on. But the Lingering Will’s Keyblade transformed into what looked like a giant cannon and released a blast of light. 

“Okay...That’s cool!” Sero said. 

“I need something like that!” Bakugou said. 

“You already have gauntlets, Kacchan,” Izuku said. 

“Shut up, you damn nerd!”

Terranort let out a cry of anguish as the beam sent him hurtling back. As soon as he had recovered his Keyblade, he was forced to fend off a furious assault. 

“Terra!” Ventus shouted. 

“No, Ven!” Aqua stopped Ventus as he tried to join the fray. 

“But--”

“Them first,” Aqua said as she turned around. Ventus followed her line of sight to a vast throng of Nobodies, Heartless, and Unversed that practically filled the sky--and was coming right at you all. The ground shook as an inky darkness spread--and from it emerged the Demon Tide. 

“We’ll hold off the others.” Aqua and Ven charged toward the advancing army. 

“Okay. We got this!” Izuku replied, and then he, Class 1-A, you, Sora, Donald, and Goofy turned to take down the Demon Tide. Riku, Mickey, Kairi, and Axel readied their Keyblades for battle. 

Sora hacked away at the Demon Tide, which was like a tsunami composed of hundreds of thousands of Shadows. Goofy did his best to fend off any attacks on Sora, but whenever the Heartless managed to land a hit, you were right there to patch him up with your quirk. (Take some notes, Donald!)

Meanwhile, Riku and the king fought the horde of Heartless, Nobodies, and Unversed while getting help from most of Class 1-A. 

“You two hanging in there?” Todoroki asked. 

“We’re fine! What about you guys?” 

“Eh, can’t complain. We’ve dealt with stuff like this before,” Kirishima said. Riku risked a quick glance on Kairi, who was fighting along side Axel. Ochako and Momo were also there with them. 

“I’ve got this!” Kairi called out as she parried an attack from a Nobody. 

“Nice one, Kairi!” Ochako said.

“Thanks!” 

“Glad I got you girls in my corner!” Axel said. 

“Right back at you, Axel!” Momo said. Axel threw his Keyblade at the enemy. 

“I just wish I felt better about all this.” Across the battlefield, Ventus, Aqua, Iida, and Denki were going head-to-head with a giant Heartless. 

“Aqua!” Ven shouted as he dashed over to his friend to protect her from a punch by a huge Heartless that sent her to her knees. He caught the follow-up attack that was intended for her with his Keyblade. He took advantage of the recoil to rush in close and help Iida and Denki finish it off.

“Thanks, Ven! You’re my favorite!” Denki said. 

“Huh?” Ven asked 

“It’s a long story,” Iida said. 

“Now isn’t the time to talk,” Aqua said as she got to her feet and moved off to confront more Heartless. 

The Heartless, Nobodies, and Unversed kept coming--no matter how many times you all struck them down, there were always more to take down. It seemed like the darkness was blotting out the sky itself. All the same, you all wouldn’t give up. 

“Let’s end this!” you shouted as you dealt the Demon Tide an attack so fierce that the whole shape of the mass shifted. 

“C’mon...” As you came back to the ground, you and Sora watched as the Demon Tide began swirling around itself in a vortex. 

“Something’s wrong,” Mineta said. 

“Look out!” Tokoyami shouted.

All the Heartless, Nobodies, and Unversed were sucked into the winds it had stirred up, forming a colossal hurricane of Darkness. 

Soon, Riku, the king, Kairi, Axel, Aqua, Ventus, and Class 1-A were staring in awe as well. 

“What now?” Goofy asked as he edged backward, using his shield. 

“Sora?” you and Donald asked with an uncertain glance. 

“I’ll stop it!” Sora broke into a run, knocking aside any Heartless that got in his way as he made a beeline for the Demon Tide. 

“Sora!” you all shouted behind him.

Just as Sora sprang into the air and was about to come down on the Demon Tide with his Keyblade, a blinding light engulfed him. 

“Need some help?” Standing within the light was a boy Sora had never even seen before, let alone met. The boy had silver hair and a red scarf around his neck. 

“Huh?” Sora gasped, then found himself back on the ground again. When he opened his eyes, thousands of Keyblades were flashing through the air above him. You and Sora leaped onto the swarm of Keyblades and rode it straight toward the dark vortex. The Keyblades plunged into the Demon Tide and scattered it. 

The surviving Heartless of the Demon Tide came back together to form what resembled a black comet heading for you and Sora. But the Keyblades fanned out to shielded the two of you from the onslaught, and together with all of them, you and Sora became a ray of light and sliced the dark mass apart. 

Once you and Sora landed back on the ground, the two of you looked up at the thousands of Keyblades. Their purpose served, the proud weapons burst apart into glimmering shards. 

“Sora! (Y/N)! Are you okay?” Izuku called, running over. 

“Yeah,” Sora replied with a smile. You smiled too and gave Izuku a hug. 

“What the hell was that?” Bakugou asked, looking up to where the Keyblades had been a moment ago.

“Keyblade wielders...from long ago,” Aqua said. 

“It’s the light of the past,” Ven added as he, too, looked up at the sky. 

“Look,” Kairi said as she spotted someone and pointed. 

“Just send out the Big Bad,” Axel grumbled. 

“I can just tell that you and I would make good friends,” Bakugou said.

The one strolling towards you all across the empty battlefield...was Riku--a Riku that as a little younger than the one with you now. He snickered at you all. 

“You!” Riku shouted, taking a step forward. Mickey quickly stepped over to hold him back. 

“The Organization’s been using hearts. Ones Xehanort got to in the past and has influence over. So that must be you from when Ansem has control over your heart,” he said.

“Yeah. How could I forget?” Riku said half to himself, lowering his head for a moment. Amused by his chagrin, Repliku opened his eyes, bared his teeth, and laughed loudly. 

“I’d say that was our finest hour,” he said. Riku returned his gaze of his younger self.

“Wrong. My hour of weakness,” he said. 

“You sure? How about we find out?!” 

A black miasma billowed up from Repliku, and then, from behind him, a gigantic shadow shaped like Xehanort rose ominously. It extended its arms to the sides, filling the sky. 

“What is that?!” Mineta cried. 

“A real test for the Mark of Mastery!” Repliku cried. Xigbar chose that moment to make his entrance. 

“Dude, who the hell is that?” Sero asked Denki. 

“That’s Xigbar,” Denki replied. 

“We gotta make sure you’re not blundering your way toward a second failure,” Xigbar sneered. 

“Blundering? I’ll have you know we failed with style, chief,” Axel replied. 

“At least you admit it. Well, if you guardians think you brought the goods, you’ll have to prove it to the old guy one last time. Kid, take it away.” 

Repliku let out a bellow, causing the dark figure looming behind him to swell even larger. Several Demon Towers burst from the ground around you and the others. Repliku made a shadowy exit of his own, leaving the world shrouded in darkness. 

The Shadows were so great in number that it was hard to tell if they were a tower, a tide, or even individuals at all. One thing was certain: There were enough of them to consume the world. The creatures attacked haphazardly, and while you and the others dispatched any that came your way, there was no end in sight. It wasn’t just Shadows--or even Heartless--that threatened you all, either. There were also Nobodies and Unversed among the throng. 

“Form up! Now!” Izuku shouted. 

You all gathered in a circle, but you were all pressed back in on one another. Within the defensive ring, Mickey looked down at his Keyblade. He started to raise it--only to be stopped by Riku. Mickey looked up at him, but Riku shook his head quietly. 

“If you try to use time magic against these numbers, you won’t have enough strength for the final battle,” Riku said. Mickey lowered his eyes sadly. 

“I’ll try and break through,” Aqua called. “Everyone, get ready!”

“Alone? That’s crazy! I’ll help!” Ven said. Both of them struck at the Heartless, but no more than that.

“Two is no better,” Kairi said. 

“Yeah, splitting up is a bad idea!” Axel added, punctuating the statement with a swing of his Keyblade. 

“I agree with flamsi-locks there!” Bakugou said.

“Are you always like this?” 

“Hell yeah!” Even as you all argued, more and more Shadows were fallen from the sky like black rain. 

“There’s way too many!” Goofy yelped, dropping into a fearful crouch. 

“We’re finished!” Donald said as he quickly joined Goofy. Just as you were all about to give up, a feather like sword landed in front of Sora, taking down a Heartless. (you know I had to add our favorite bird man)

“Is that a...” he asked. Suddenly, an orb of light lanced through the gloom overhead and fell upon your foes. 

“Hey! Did we just missed the party?” someone asked. You and Class 1-A recognized the voice and saw Hawks swoop down to you all. 

“Hawks!” you and Class 1-A exclaimed. From behind him, pro heroes from back home arrived, including...

“Dad!” you exclaimed as you ran up to Aizawa. From next to Aizawa you saw Present Mic. “Where’s Eri?”

“Don’t worry. Shinsou’s watching over her,” Aizawa said. You smiled and watched as the light grew into a radiant column that sent the Shadows flying every which way, and you all has to shield your eyes against it. When you all opened them again to see what happened, there was Master Yen Sid, standing there in the flesh!

“Master Yen Sid!” you and the others exclaimed. 

The sorcerer, who was also a Keyblade Master, clapped his glowing hands together, then quickly held you all aloft, releasing a burst of light that destroyed any Shadow it touched and created a pathway straight through the horde.

“Go, my champions. I will hold them all here for as long as I can,” MYS said. 

“We’re not leaving you behind!” Mickey cried. Donald and Goofy looked at each other and then, with a nod, ran over to Yen Sid’s side. 

“You guys go on!” 

“Me and Donald will stay here. The two of us’ll back up Master Yen Sid!” The two of them readied their weapons to protect the sorcerer’s back. 

“Donald...Goofy...” Sadness filled Sora’s voice. They had stuck by his side through all his adventures thus far, and he hated to leave them. You ran up to Sora and gave him a comforting hug. 

“You’re a whole pint by yourself, Sora,” you said. 

“Don’t worry. We’ll catch up with ya in just a bit!” Goofy added. Sora and Mickey looked at their friends. 

“Okay!” 

“We’ll regroup later!”

“Make haste!” MYS shouted. You and the others, including the pro heroes, ran down the glowing path the sorcerer had cleared. 

[cosmiclatte28]

Over Cups of Coffees (Sehun x reader)

warning : fluff! flirty sehun! 

enjoy! 

"One ice Americano," the tall guy with ominous aura places his order, for a second the café suddenly feels frozen. He looks and sounds cold, but once he steps into the counter in front of you, you feel the blazing sun of summer, the cute shy smile, and a gentle stare.

"One Americano, less ice?" you question him even when you remember his order nicely in the back of your mind.

The man across you smiles, "You remember?"

You smirk, deep inside your heart you wonder how one could forget if thats the only thing he orders in every single visit.

You take his card, swipe the bill, and rush to brew his cold coffee.

Ever since the cold and hot man enters that door last week, you quickly fell for his demeanor aura. You learn his name when he ordered his first cup of coffee in a bubble tea shop. Though you find it weird why he bought coffee when you guys are known for bubble teas, you did not reject his orders; you even wished with all your heart he will be a regular here.

"One ice Americano coffee to go, for Mr. Sehun," you scream out his name, and when he walks to take the bag, your hand swiftly drops in a piece of cookie inside the paper bag. He saw you and almost say you misplaced an order, but your whisper silence him.

"Its a complementary," You panicked, "Special for the customer who has the queuing number 100."

You see him smile and you hear your coworker stifling a laugh.

"Thank you," Sehun smiles and nods his head as he takes his order, "Thank you, see you!"

He leaves the counter with his expressionless face and your shift continues. You take more orders from other customers.

One of your coworker nudges you when the rush hour is over, and the café is a bit empty. "What was that, did you put in your number on the cookie earlier?" the elf-eared tall man teases you.

You blush, when your mind teases you back with the phrase Sehun said before he left.

"Stop it Chanyeol, I did not drop my number in it. Seriously, I just wanted to treat him a cookie, whats wrong with it?" You shrug your shoulder and choose to leave to take a short break. Well, secretly you scream out of joy when you reach the storage room. Sehun, the man who creates butterflies in your stomach is slowly recognizing you.

The next day, your shift starts and as time ticks by, your heart beats faster as you expect the presence of Sehun. He shows up in his regular time, with his regular cold face just that today he looks a bit tired and annoyed. You pull up your textbook-smile and try your best to control your heating face.

"Welcome, Is it another usual menu, or are you interested in trying todays special menu?" You flash a concern look to him. He catches your attention and runs his eyes through the menu. He sighs and inserts his hands into his pockets.

"Do you have any recommendation for a bad day?"

You nod in a second, "Are you okay with Chocolates?" he nods, you type in a menu and he seems to agree with what you call 'House favorite chocolate bomb bubble tea'

Sehun hands you his card and surprises you when he asks for a table number. He brings his number and sits on the corner, the secluded chair near the windows.

You are quite surprise, he never dines inside. With a question mark in your mind, you prepare his drink and once again sneak in another slice of red velvet cake. Chanyeol catches you again and smiles widely while wriggling his brow, "Go, and take that order to his table. Let me take over the cashier and orders."

You thank him and after tidying your appearance, you deliver the drink and cake to the man sitting alone and lost in his thoughts.

"Here's your drink, and I bring you a cake to cheer you up." You move the drink and cake from your tray to his table.

Sehun's cold façade melts away when he sees the red cake and your sweet attention, "Wow! Am I the 100th customer again today?" He laughs at his own words. You feel like melting into a puddle right then and there.

He takes his time enjoying the cake and reviving his mood with your special brew, you are once again busy behind the counter and running over making different orders of drinks. You can still see Sehun from several quick glances, and that is enough to make you energized until your shift end.

After 10 minutes, the tall man in suit fleets from his chair and queue into the line in front of me. You are perplexed when he shows up again with his shy smile,"I'm here to pay the red velvet and I want the cookies you gave me yesterday. I want two of them, all packed to go." You swipe his payment only for the cookies, the red velvet is from you.

"For someone?" You ask when you take out two fresh baked cookies and wrap them nicely inside a bag.

Sehun shakes his head, "It's for me, and Im working overnight today. The cookies will be my acquaintance tonight."

"Have strength! Good luck," you send him off with a wave of hand.

Thats the last time you ever see him. For a good one week, you never see his nose. Chanyeol teases you repeatedly for waiting and hoping like a fool, but you shush him off. One week feels like a month and the nosey customers really drain your energy.

One night when Chanyeol is already mopping the floor and you're already turning over the chairs, the door opens and a young man in a tidy suit surprises both of you. Chanyeol glances at the door sign; it clearly is turned over already, why is he here.

"Sorry, are you closed already?" the man you missed for one week questions the two of you.

You quickly leave your current work and take over the counter, "No, we can make it work for you. We still have 5 minutes to the closing hour, but feel free to take your time."

"Usual order?" You ask while turning on the brewer and cashier, Sehun nods then take a seat at one of the table you haven't turn over.

Chanyeol bids you goodbye after his mopping is done, and you're left alone with Sehun.

"Please make yourself a drink, can you sit with me for a while tonight? Drinks are on me." he sounds hopeful.

You take his invitation, making yourself a cup of warm coffee. You carry the dark liquids and a plate of cake from the storage.

You take your seat across him, he has his coat off already and he looks breathtaking in his white shirt and loosen tie. He is busy with his cold drink, and you preoccupied your nerves with the warm caffeine. Your heart is almost bursting out of joy, here in front of you the man you crushed, you finally get the chance to sit alone with him only. You don't care what your boss will do to you, if he ever finds out about this.

Sehun picks the fork and pokes the cake, "What is this?"

You snap from your daydream, "Oh, thats a new menu. A rainbow cake, were going to release them tomorrow." He raises his brow in curiosity,

"Each color has different flavor. Please try them." You look at him expectantly when he takes the red part into his mouth. He savors the taste, munches, pokes into the next color, tastes them and when he reaches the 7th color he finally makes his comment.

"Hmm it's cool, a nice idea! It also tastes good. I am sure buying this again." Sehun's eyes brighten and he gulps down his coffee to clean his palettes.

"(y/n)," Sehun surprises you by calling your name. You almost ask where did he learn your name, but you realize you wear name tags every day. "Thank you for opening the café for me, and thank you for sitting here with me tonight."

You shake your head and hands, "No, it's not a problem Sehun. Besides, I can probably help you if you need someone to talk and share stories too. Only if you're willing too," You panicked.

Sehun thinks for a quick second and smirk, "You're probably right. I need to share what's bothering my mind. Great idea!"

It sure is a great idea for Sehun, but not for you. Sehun has just finished his story about his break up with his so called girlfriend he loved dearly. You are actually surprised to find out he has been dating for one year and got dumped last week, because poor Sehun caught her kissing another man in the park. She chose the other guy over him. Sehun concludes that he's now traumatized and he will be staying away from falling in love for a moment. He is hurt, and he doesnt want to fall in love now.

You made a mental note about this, and continue to talk about more things. As the night deepens, the cake vanished, and the coffees finished, you learn each others hobbies and favorite singers.

Sehun helps you clean up the table and turning over the chair. He drops in extra tips into the jar, then he waits for you outside as you turn off all of the machines, lights, and lock the door.

"Thank you for listening to me tonight," Sehun bashfully looks into his shoes.

"Its nothing big, Im happy if youre feeling better now. So, good night Sehun," you wave your hand to him when your bus arrives. He waves his hand back at you and descends into his car.

After that night, you remember his words where he did not want to fall in love yet. That morning, you ensure your heart that the feeling must stop. You ask Chanyeol to switch with you and take over the cashier. You choose to work in the kitchen with your other coworker, Baekhyun. You're not going to fall more into Sehun, no you need to stop before you hurt yourself.

You tell Baekhyun why you're here now and the cheerful man just pats your back, "Aw, you're burying a feeling. It's okay you still have me and Chanyeol. We're both still free and available for blind dates." He winks and succeeds in cheering you up.

Weeks passed by, you work in nice union with Baekhyun baking cakes, and preparing bobas. Your life is bright again even without seeing Sehun, until one day Chanyeol barges into the kitchen and smirks, "(y/n), he's here and he wants to see you. I can't hold it anymore, I've been telling him lies that you're not here anymore, but turns out he saw you and he wants to see you!" today.

"Who?" Baekhyun asks

You freeze in your place, is it really the same man you're thinking of?

Chanyeol sees your reaction, "You want me to shoo him off?"

You shake your head, Chanyeol suddenly remembers something, "Ah yeah, he told me to tell you this. He's ready to try it again. I don't know what he means but he told me to deliver that message to you." Your eyes widen and you turn your body to exit the kitchen door, leaving the two men puzzled.

You quickly run your eyes through the customers inside the small café, but he's not there. Your eyes catch him leaving the door with a glass of Americano in his right hand and a small pack of cookies on his left.

You did not meet him yet, but you know when you will see him again.

Thats right, tomorrow.

The last rays of sun lights are slowly fading off, the sky is beautifully painted orange and purple. You tighten the apron over your waist and with the textbook smile youre taking in orders and payments once again.

"Good afternoon, what can I help you with? Maybe a special menu today? Rainbow bubble tea made especially for you." You wink at the man in front of your cashier counter.

He chuckles, "I'd take that as a yes, if you're going to sit with me in that table at the corner."

You blush and punch in his order, "That means youre having Americano today, because I am not free until my shift ends at 9."

He glances at his watch, "Three hours is nothing compared to a week. Please add a slice of rainbow cake too! I am waiting for my date until 9 tonight." He offers you his deadly smile, and you cannot feel your legs.

Chanyeol and Baekhyun heard everything, when Sehun goes away to his chair; the two men take their cue to mess with you.

"What do you want for a drink? Let me prepare it for you." Chanyeol takes over the cup in my hand and makes the order.

"Of course strawberry boba, right?" Baekhyun winks and walks to take a slice of rainbow cake and cheese cake.

"You love my cheese cakes right? Now, go sit with him and we will take over your part." Baekhyun unties your apron and pushes you to Sehun's table direction.

What? you're surprised with the sudden situation.

"Go get your love, good luck!" the two men unite and push you into his direction. Sehun turns his head and sees you walking to him. He smiles and gets up to pull out your chair.

"Guess this is it, I don't have to wait for three hours by myself, and my date is here already."

[saint-kore]

Give In To Me [18+] (Commodus x Reader)

♡ A/N: Howdy everyone! I’m back with a one-shot for you all. This one-shot is dedicated to the very lovely @captain-el-writes​ . Thank you so much for this idea. I really had a great time writing this so I hope you love it! The ending is kinda of open because I plan on writing a part 2 to this as well. I wanna get started on that as well as the sequel to the Jimmy Emmett fic but in due time, of course! So here you go, enjoy ;) -Persie♡

♡ Word count: 4,464 ♡

♡ Contains: Very NSFW, SMUT, oral sex of all kinds, rough sex, moderate dirty talk (because why not? lol)♡

The sultry heat of summertime Rome laced through the air of the darkening evening, the sleepy sun settling low in the sky. The friendly wind greeted you, a smile gracing your features in appreciation. The deep orange, pink and lavender hues illuminating your features from the wispy white curtains as you listened to Lucius read to you. The story he told seemed to blur against your own thoughts, looking out at the people of Rome readying themselves for slumber. The playful breeze touching on the olive trees, the heady scent gracing the air in return.

“Y/N…,” Lucius spoke, snapping your out of your reverie. You glanced over at him, an amused yet slightly embarrassed smile as he regarded you with his blue eyes. He seemed to be oblivious to your daydreams, a big smile on his small face. “Did you like that story? It’s one of my favorites,” he said, the sparkle in his eyes seeming to grow brighter in anticipation.

“I loved it, Lucius,” you confirmed, much to his delight. You combed your hand through his hair, smoothing his hair back from his smooth face. In the time that you have known him, you could see his growth. His face changing from its cherubic, angelic features to its growing angular shape that showed that he was nearing the cusp of adolescence. “Come, it’s time for you to get ready for bed,” you said as you rose to your feet.

“Uncle says that great leaders have no time for rest…,” he spoke, making you pause for a moment before continuing with his bedtime routine. The mention of Commodus was enough to make your blood run cold and your body vibrate all at once. It was a strange and exotic feeling to you; the few glances that you have gotten of his sharp green eyes sent shivers down your spine. Being a servant girl, you made sure to keep your eyes down out of respect for his Majesty but you could always tell when he was looking at you. The heated yet curious glare would burn through the fabric of your tunic, even over your curves that the cotton fabric clung to generously. The deep blush that would erupt on your features would always earn a hushed chuckle from him, making you wish that you could look up, just once, to see the mirth in his handsome features or whenever he would ask you to do mundane things to keep you in his presence longer than needed. It would get to the point where your normally precise, gentle hands would become shaky with the mix of fear and eagerness of what the unpredictable ruler might do in your presence. It excited you…

Even though you were certain that the Emperor only looked upon his sister with the eyes of a lovesick suitor, he was no stranger to using maids and female servants to fulfill his lustful needs when he saw fit. He was never one to be gentle and depending on who you asked, it was either the best or worst night that they’ve had with a man. The thought that you might have the Emperor’s eye made your heart form a pounding rhythm, your chest shaking from the impact. You wouldn’t dare be so bold to ask him, of course, but you couldn’t help but wonder.

“Y/N,” a soft voice spoke up. You paused, finally being able to get Lucius to lay down for bed and looked up to see Lucilla. She regarded you with a kind look as she usually did, the cloud of sadness in them growing in them by the day.

“My lady,” you greeted as you stood straighter, giving a small bow in which, she gave a quiet nod. She then focused on Lucius, her gaze growing into one of adoration as she sat on the edge of the bed. She kissed his forehead softly, closing her eyes before pulling back. Her silk lavender stola draped gracefully upon her slender frame as she stroked her sleeping son’s head. The soft brown curls framing her face brushed along her cheeks, moving a bit with every slight movement she made. You patiently waited for her next word or request, a small sigh leaving her.

“Commodus has requested your presence,” she finally spoke, making you feel as if someone had poured ice down your back. You clasped your hands in front of you trying to busy yourself from what she had just announced, bringing it to her side. She detected your nervousness, taking the bowl from you and sitting it to the side with care.

“He will grow angry if you keep him waiting. When I left him, he was already restless…,” she warned, her voice remaining even and gentle as she pulled the pins from her hair to let her wavy tresses down upon her shoulders. “I understand your worry, but you will make it worse for yourself. Go to him…,” she repeated. You shifted on your feet, hesitating to move from where you were rooted. Lucilla gave you a knowing gaze, silently urging you to go on. You gave a short nod, silently bidding her goodnight as you left her chambers and walked down the dim hall leading to Commodus’ chambers. Your body felt heavy, let out a huff of short-lived confidence as you pick up the pace. Your gaze flits over to guards, standing stoically and ready for action against the marble walls.

You reached the smooth double doors that were all too familiar to you, the intricate details carved into the gilded exterior spiraling elegantly amongst each other in the design. You lingered around the door, jumping when the guard moved to open the door for you. You immediately greeted with the scent of imported Egyptian jasmine, juniper and fresh woody musk that you had come to know as the Emperor’s favorite scent. The fragrant aroma seemed to pour from him, blending well with his own natural fragrance. You looked around the lavish chamber, your meek footsteps bouncing off the walls as you walked further in. You paused when you finally saw him, feeling the blood drain from your face. He stood with his back to you, looking at the now dusky sky from the balcony. His cape moving in the soft wind.

You watched him for a moment, placing a hand against your chest to try to ease the chaotic thumping. Your hand slowly rubbing the middle of your chest, taking a slow breath. Before you could even open your mouth to speak, Commodus’ voice suddenly spoke before you.

“I was wondering if you would come…,” he spoke, his head turning a bit towards your direction before moving to look at you fully. The dark circles under his eyes made his irises stand out more as he stared at you, an ominous coil squeezing at you as it continued. His pink lips parted before he quirked an expecting brow at you. You quickly lowered your head, forgetting yourself as you quickly bowed.

“Please forgive me, your Highness. I did not mean to look upon you so boldly,” you said gently, keeping your voice even and soft. You blinked when you heard him approach you, his footsteps sounded as loud as your heartbeat. A patient hand touched your chin, lifting your head up to gaze upon his handsome features once more. Commodus stroked your chin slowly before moving down to clasp your neck, smirking when you eyed him warily. He tested your will, giving your neck a light squeeze and enjoyed the soft gasp that erupted from your pouty lips. “Where were you, little bee?” he purred in a honeyed voice, stroking your smooth throat with his thumb. “I’d sent for you,”

“Your nephew kept me busy, Your Highness,” you replied, your voice not above a whisper. “I…I was getting him ready for bed until his mother had returned…,”

Commodus purred softly in reply to your explanation, tucking a loose strand away from your face. His fingertips dancing along your cheek, pulling a shiver from you at the sensation. He pulled away, the hot touch of his hand against your throat leaving you and you suddenly missed the feeling. You gently touched where his hand had once been, your skin tingling in response as if it was hoping that his touch would return as well.

“Y/N, is it?” he said, glancing back at you. You kept your hands at your sides, giving a soft nod of confirmation as you followed his movements. He gestured to platters filled with fresh bread, fruits, vegetables, sliced, smoked fish covered with spices along with large bottles of wine. “Come, enjoy…,” he offered, much to your surprise. You clasp your hands in front of you as you walked over to the table. He watched your every move, smirking as he poured you some wine in a fine gold goblet, amethyst gems glistening in the light. You timidly took the goblet from him, taking a slow sip of the cool, surprisingly sweet wine. You had never tasted anything like it, making you quickly drink down the rest of it, much to Commodus’ amusement.

“Did you enjoy that?” he asked with a mischievous grin. You blushed as he poured you some more, filling the goblet to the brim. His eyes followed the rim of the cup to your lips, watching you quickly take drink so that the sweet red liquid wouldn’t spill over. “It’s one of my favorites. The finest Rome has to offer…,” he proclaimed, a sparkle of pride shimmering in his eyes. You let the sweetness coat your tongue before further indulging yourself in the fresh food presented to you, indulging in each platter. You had never tasted food like it; you had given in to temptation every once in while by sneaking a fresh bread or even cuts of exotic fruits but never often. Commodus watched you, almost curiously, slowly sipping from his own goblet of wine. He looked away from you and focused on the wall, taking another swallow of wine before sitting the goblet down on the table.

“Y/N, do you know why I called you here?” he murmured, his eyes shifting towards you one more as he removed his cape. You looked at him, your mouth filled with pieces of apple and sweet bread before quickly washed it down with a few gulps of wine. You felt pleasantly lightheaded from drinking so much wine so quickly, but you found your words once he glanced back at you.

“I do not, Your Highness,” you said softly, slowly twirling your empty goblet in your hands. You glanced away, a dusky heat rolling in your lower belly as you heard him shift and come behind you. You could feel his heat once more, resisting the urge to lay back against his chest. You held back a breath as his hands came up to tenderly caress your jawline before moving to your low hair bun, loosening it so that your glossy hair tumbled down your shoulders and back. He smoothed the hair back, his fingers grazing your temple. His hands smoothed down your shoulders and nuzzling behind your ear before burying his face in your hair. The intimate act made you as stiff as a statue, wanting to move to look at him but didn’t want him to stop.

“I’m actually a little astonished, Y/N…,” he spoke, his breathing moving from your hair until his lips settled near your ear. “I’ve been watching you. There have been a lot of maidens who have served our family and pleasured me but none like you, dear Y/N. You have honestly captured me with this skittish coyness that you present to me…,” he said, the purry tones of his voice making you bite down on your lip.

“You tease me endlessly with the soft call of your curves…aching for my touch,” he continued, his hands moving from your shoulder, smoothing over your breasts. His strong hands pushing your breasts together through the thin cotton fabric, a small moan erupting from you. He pressed against you, his body melding against you as his hands moved to latch a firm grip onto your hips. His breath became labored, pressing his soft lips more against your ear as if he were trying to contain himself.

“Would you deny me if I invited your presence in my bed, lovely Y/N…?” he asked, one hand leaving to stroke your midriff slowly and even gripping at the fabric as if he wanted to rip it off of you.

Your mouth went dry, gripping the base of the goblet in your hand which he quickly swiped away from your hands after a moment of breathy silence between you both. He tossed the goblet; your eyes watching it roll on the polished marble, little droplets of scarlet wine marring its purity. He suddenly turned you around, his eyes boring into yours.

“Your emperor requests an answer, my lady,” he whispered against your lips, his hands already tugging at his own garb. The fabric easily coming loose under his tenacious fingers, breathing heavily against your lips before gripping your throat once more. His heaving chest exposed to you, the pale flesh looked slightly damp from the heaviness of the garment that was now falling from his shoulders and torso.

“I would never deny you; I wish to serve your every need, Your Highness…,” you managed to say, gripping at the table behind you. He smiled against your trembling lips, squeezing your neck slightly as he caught your bottom lip between his teeth. He groaned in satisfaction at your submission, his ego swelling as he nibbled on your lip before capturing your lips in a deep, rough kiss. His tongue pushing and swirling around yours, the taste of the wine still prevalent. You hesitated before allowing your hands to touch his hair with care, your fingers running through the short chestnut brown locks. He let out a growl in response, suckling on your tongue before pulling away.

“Disrobe,” he commanded, stepping away from you. “Tonight, I plan on devouring ever inch of you…,” he added with a lustful moan, sitting on the bed to watch you as undress before him. You stepped a little closer, your trembling hands moving to pull at the sash around your waist. You heard a hum of appreciation leave him as your tunic fell from your body.  The cool air made your skin turn to gooseflesh with a tremble, your nipples instantly perking at the change in temperature. Commodus leered at you with heavy-lidded eyes, his lips parted as he forced himself to keep his breathing steady.

“Look at you…you’re practically ripe from the promise of ecstasy,” he moaned, gesturing for you to come to him. You drew closer to him, your tongue running over your lips in effort to taste the ghost of his demanding lips once more. He quickly stood and bent you over the bed, your upper half pressed against the soft bed. You blushed once you felt him run his hands over your smooth backside, whispering lewd praises that only your ears could hear. He gripped and kneaded the soft flesh with a hungry groan, pulling his hands back to smack your ass hard. A surprised squeal erupted from you followed by a series of cries and moans as he continued, even placing some strikes against the back of your thighs. You trembled against the bed, clenching at the bedding with a firm grip. When the strikes finally subsided, he gently stroked your now sore cheeks and even cooed affectionately as he knelt behind you. A shuddering groan left him as he spread you open, your arousal glistening and dripping down your womanhood.

He let out a whimper as he licked a strip from your jewel to your quivering slit, moving his swirling back down to latch onto your clit. Your hips bucked involuntarily, moaning loudly as your hands clawed at the bed. His moans vibrated against you as he feasted on you, your moans spurring him on to continue. His hands gripped your cheeks, spreading you more as he dipped his tongue into your wetness. His tongue moving around your tight walls, moaning as your wetness sweetened his tongue. He pulled back momentarily, licking his lips wolfishly. When he returned, he licked his way up to the tight ring of muscle, flicking his tongue against it.

You blushed heavily and immediately tried to pull away only for Commodus to grip your thighs harder, digging his nails into your skin as a warning. Your eyes rolled back, your body soaring with pleasure as he alternated between suckling at your opening and your clit to placing generous licks against your rosebud. You felt your body coil as you readied yourself for the orgasm clawing its way through your body. Commodus felt needy and this only made his desire grow, suddenly shoving two fingers into your dripping slit as he continued to lick and lavish your rosebud with attention. He felt your walls tighten around his fingers, thrusting them deeper and deeper inside of you as he urged you to come undone. You whimpered and cried out passionately once you came, your essence coating his fingers as they continued to plunge into you to help you ride out your orgasm. Flushed, Commodus finally pulled his fingers out of you and stood upright once more.

You struggled to turn to look at him, letting out a weak moan as you gazed up at him through your rose-colored pleasure. Your lips parted once he brought his fingers to his mouth, cleaning his digits of your release. He swallowed hard as he stared down at your naked body, a strangled moan escaping him.

“How foolish have I been to deny myself the sweetest nectar I’ve ever tasted from a woman for so long,” he shuddered.

“Your Highness…,” you started before he cut you off.

“Commodus,” he corrected, working to remove the rest of his attire. He made quick work of the rest of his clothing, the sound of shuffling and the fabric hitting the floor filled your sensitive ears. You let out a quiet moan when you felt him kissing and tongue at your navel, licking his way up the valley between your breasts. “I want for my name to be familiar on your lips, in all of your moans and cries…,” he whispered, nibbling at one of your sensitive nipples before sucking hard for a quick moment. A smack at your thigh made you quickly move more on to the bed with him following close.  His eyes glittered as he stared down at you as you stared back, taking in his form. He wasn’t spectacularly muscled, but it didn’t take away from his attractive features and overwhelming sexuality and dominance.  You reached out to touch his stomach, feeling him almost falter at you touching him so intimately. You brought your other hand forward, pressing it again his stomach before smoothing up his chest and running back down to touch his thighs. The wispy hairs rising at the attention as you stroked his inner thighs, his hard shaft twitching between his legs.

A faint smirk appeared on his face as he suddenly moved up until he was straddling your chest, the tip of his lengthy member brushing against your nose before he began to stroke himself in front of you. A small pearl of precum formed at the spongey pink tip before dropping onto your lip. Your tongue quickly licked it away, shivering at the taste. Commodus’ eyes glazed over as he let the head of his rub against your plushy lips, begging for access. You immediately opened your mouth, welcoming his hot length into your mouth. A loud moan immediately left his lips, thrusting his hips forward to push more of his shaft into your soft, wet mouth. He panted, reaching down to cradle the back of your head as he began to slowly thrust into your mouth. You kept up with meeting his thrust, gagging slightly as he scooted forward even more. A possessive moan escaped his lips, his head falling back as he sped up his thrusts. You slid your tongue beneath the underside of his cock, the angry vein responding with a speeding throb. He shuddered, his brows furrowing in pleasure as his shaft pressed against the inside of your cheek before shoving down your throat. You did your best to breathe as he held you there, your gagging making your throat clench around his throbbing shaft.

“Take me now…,” Commodus moaned out to the heavens, giving you a few more breathless thrusts before you felt his hot seed spill into your throat. He gripped the back of your head as he let out a groan of completion, gripping your hair as he gave shallow bucks into your mouth as he emptied himself into your mouth. Your eyes were screwed shut, swallowing down as much of his seed as you could as some of it managed to dribble from your mouth when he finally released you. You coughed, immediately taking a much-needed deep breath. The sound of his chuckling filled your ears as he moved off the bed, trying to catch your breath. Your hazy eyes looked up at him when he offered you another cup of wine that you drank down without a word, the cool liquid settling in your belly pleasantly.

Commodus drank from the bottle, his lean body bending as he turned the bottle up before sitting it to the side. His member still hard, hitting his lower belly as he moved to get back on the bed with you. His tongue licked away the wine from your lips, grinning down at you.

“Are you ready for me?” he purred, his voice pulling you in once more as your legs immediately fell open. He moaned in delight at your eagerness, pushing your legs up roughly to lick up your wetness a few times before roughly turning you over. He arranged you as if you were a doll, your back arched with your face buried into the pillow in front of you. You gripped and held the pillow as you readied yourself for what was to come next. Your ass was still sore from the spanking that you received before; you were even sure that you had other bruises that you would feel in the morning. You felt his hands smooth down your spine and over your sensitive ass. You moaned into the pillow when you felt his hard cock brushing against your inner thigh. His mouth followed his hands, placing soft kisses up your spine and between your shoulder blades. One of his hands came up to wrap your hair around his fist, keeping a good grip as his tip nudged at your creamy slit.

“Commodus, please…,” you mewled passionately, making his movements pause for a moment. You had thought you had done something wrong, opening your mouth to apologize to him until he slid inside of you completely without warning. You moaned loudly, the grip in your hair tightening as he set into a punishing rhythm. You felt like climbing the walls as he thrusted deep and hard inside of you; your hands clawing at the silk sheets and pillow beneath you. The sound of his hips smacking hard against you was vulgar enough but your loud moans and whimpers added to it all, his name fervently coming from you which made him pull your head back as he slammed into your quivering cunt.

“Yes, Y/N. Call for me, let the world know who owns you…,” he growled, giving you a hard smack across your ass as he continued. You tried to bury your face into the pillow only for him to pull your head back up, his other hand coming around to grip at your neck.

“Don’t you fucking dare defy me…,” he warned, turning your head so that he could stare into your eyes. His hips began to move faster, his shaft stretching your walls and moving deeper inside of you. “I want to hear every single whimper that comes from that pretty mouth. I want to hear you scream…,” he growled, giving you a particularly hard thrust that earned a passionate cry from you. The sound of the both of you panting and moaning out filled the air. You didn’t care if anyone heard you but his grip tightening on your neck made your cries even more laborious. You moved your hips back against him, making him moan your name in approval and latch onto your neck, marking you with a hard suckle. His growls and moans began to get louder, his hands moving to roam over your body in a greedy frenzy before wrapping an arm around your waist and his other catching you in a lock around your neck. It was as if you would disappear after he found his release, his hissing breaths and moans filled your ear as he roughly handled you.

“Mine…,” he said through gritted teeth before he let out a trembling groan, mixing with your own moans of thirst and lust. His hip movements began to become erratic as he got closer and closer to his release; you were getting closer as well. Your wet walls tightening around his pulsating cock. He had a vice grip on your hips, his jaw jutting out as he slammed one, two, three times before spilling his seed deep inside of your canal. His orgasm set off your own, your eyes rolling back as you came. Panting and moaning his name as he held himself into you; a loud, deep moan of completion left his body as every single drop of his seed glazed your walls. Shaking, he finally moved from you and collapsed beside you on the bed. You moaned quietly as laid beside him, completely spent from your activities. You felt his sticky seed on your thighs, blushing as you pressed your legs together as you laid on your side.

Commodus looked over at you, his eyes heavy as he drew a little bit closer. He moved away the strands of hair sticking to your damp face. His warm breath fanning against your face, making you close your eyes.

“Bathe with me, stay with me tonight…,” he requested silently, a request you knew you would not deny. “I don’t want you to leave my bed…,”

A smile formed on your lips, your lips moving to kiss at the bridge of his nose. “As you wish, Your Majesty…,” you replied.

You spent the rest of the night with Commodus; eating, bathing and making love through the dark hours until the morning when you were both tangled in each other’s arms in bed under the rich blue silk sheets.