#so now youre stuck in that position until they wake up and move somewhere else

[swordmaid]

the fact that my sims astarion can't sleep on beds anymore bc he has that negative vampire trait that only allows him to sleep in coffins, but if he goes to bed cuddling with shri'iia he's able to sleep normally and restore vampire energy that way. IMMEDIATELY adding this to my canon.

[oceanlue]

Auron as a hybrid cat 🐱

This man..or cat is such a sneaky little thing

He knows that he is hot and will use it to his advantage

But him as a cat would be very interesting to say the least like during in public he wouldn't want any attention he wouldn't even give anybody the satisfaction of anything that came from a cat

But when he's alone with you or alone somewhere where it's just the two of you like in his house he would be all over you he would lay down on your lap and ask you to pet him..... more like demand but...

And you would be the first person besides himself and his hair stylist to touch his hair and let me tell you it is soft

He even purrs a little bit if you're quiet enough you can hear him purr

But he also does things to you that cats do to themselves too like he will nudge his head into your hand when you go to say hi to him and private of course

He will hug you from behind and Whisper things into the ear as he does a little kitty kiss on your ear that gives you shivers(oh my😏)

When you two are alone he is such a big cuddler even though he said that he does not like cuddles we know he is lying

If you're lucky enough if he has a good day he will let you pet his ears

And sometimes when you do he gets a little too sensitive or in his case vulnerable

And surprisingly he does a little.....you know........" Nyan~"......holy shit ... consider you're still alive and lucky

Unfortunately you do not move after he says that you're just like standing like a statue confirming the information that you just heard

Aruon notices that you didn't pet him more so he wonders what your freaking doing and he realized what he said and now he's embarrassed of course he won't show his face to you

But knowing that he just did what he thought he would never do in his life got him so embarrassed that he doesn't show his face to you after that it would take a lot of convincing to make him face you again

But once you do he just forgets it like it ever happened and it just enjoys napping with you

The way this dude naps is ridiculous once you guys get into bed he will fall on top of you and will not move so you're basically just stuck there until the morning

Nwsf

This man is so weird in so many ways when it comes to the devil's Tango~

He likes a lot of bondage we all know that it makes him feel powerful knowing you can't move it an inch and only he can release you

And of course he grows like to make you stop wiggling around

And as he has you in doggie position he will bite your neck to make you stop moving and surprisingly it does work

Also since he is part cat he will have a knot

Hehe

And he will enjoy your suffering of not able to move knowing it's driving you crazy

But after all that you have to care is hella awesome he will hug you he will cuddle you he will give you water and a snack and he will even praise you lots (that's much more praise than I got when I was a child)

All in all this cat would love you till the end just in private and not around everybody else

He loves you and you love him

(Not mine, everything goes to the creator @world-future-star )

[arvinsescape]

Subspace.

A/N: This has been in my drafts for aaaaaggggeees, I actually forgot I’d written it 🤣, another different sort of writing and I hope you all enjoy (Please remember this is a work of fiction)! 💕💕

Summary: The first time Tom realises his girlfriend is stuck in subspace.

Warnings: Mentions of sex (Minors do not engage), talks of a dom! x sub! relationship, swearing, mentions of an injury.

Something is wrong with you and Tom can’t put his finger on it. You’re not yourself and haven’t been since last night. You seem almost out of it, as if you’re here but at the same time not.

“Shit.” You muttered out as you caught your foot on the edge of the couch and fell onto your knees. This is what Tom is talking about, you’re not usually this clumsy but this morning? You’ve had his heart hammering in his chest more times this morning than you have in the last year of dating.

“Darling, are you okay?” Tom asked as he helped you to your feet, a complete look of concern in his eyes.

“Yeah, just lost my footing.” You smiled as you flopped onto the couch. “Think my legs are still recovering.” You huffed out through a laugh.

“Are you sure? You’re a lot clumsier than normal.” Tom was concerned now, it was growing inside his stomach and he couldn’t shift it, he just couldn’t put his finger on what was going on with you.

“Like I say, I think my legs are still a bit shaky from last night.” You shrugged as you trained your eyes onto the TV.

You’d had an intense session last night, you’d had multiple orgasms and both of you had had earth shattering ones to finish off, the kind that knocked him out almost completely, how tired he was washing over him in an instant. It had been one of your more intense sessions in fourteen month relationship, although you had a dom, sub relationship it was never too out there. Orgasm denials, multiple orgasms, light choking, him tying you up were as far as you’d ventured so far.

**

Tom only grew more concerned as the day went on, especially when he walked through to the living room at 1pm and found you still on the couch. You were in the same position he’d left you in almost two hours ago.

“Darling,” Tom asked and you mindlessly hummed in response. “You’re meeting your friend in twenty minutes.” He pointed out and he watched as you picked your phone up and checked the time, panicking as you saw it.

“Shit, shit, shit. Lost track of time.” You said as you shot past him and upstairs. Of course Tom understood that anyone could lose track of time, it just happened. But you? No, you were the most organised and punctual person he knew, if you said you would be somewhere, you’d turn up ten minutes early, you didn’t do late.

You quickly rushed out a ‘love you’ with a quick kiss to his cheek as you practically ran out of the door. Tom found himself thanking the Gods that you weren’t driving with how you’d been this morning.

**

You came back a few hours later, rushing into the living room and practically throwing yourself at him. You were cold from the winter air and it made Tom shiver slightly at the sudden temperature change he was experiencing.

“You okay?” He asked as his hand came to the back of your head, your face stuffed into his chest.

“I missed you.” You sniffled and Tom was taken aback, this was normal when he’d spent weeks away from you, but hours? You were a pretty independent person, although you and Tom were extremely close, you were by no means completely attached at the hip.

“I missed you too.” Tom comforted as he squeezed you, you pulled yourself closer, making him shift so you could straddle him. Clinging to him as if he’d disappear, although you were a cuddly person by nature you were usually happy just cuddled into his side as you watched TV. 

“You did?” You asked as you pulled back to look at him, excitement in your eyes, almost like a child. Tom furrowed his brows, this was unusual, like he says, you’re an independent person, you were acting like you needed him to say it, needed him to reassure you.

Of course, there had been times where you had needed that from him, when the media or the fans had been pretty hard on you but as far as he was aware that wasn’t the case right now.

“Of course I did.” Tom reassured as he ran his thumb over your cheek and you leant into the minor touch, making Tom take your face in his hand. You seemed to be craving his touch, it seemed to be something you needed he observed over the next hour.

You stayed in his lap, whining when he stopped running his hand over your back or through your hair. Nuzzling so far into him that he was sure you were trying to get inside him, when he got up to go into the kitchen you’d trail behind him like a lost puppy. All of your behaviours making Tom grow more and more concerned over you.

In the last few hours you’d seemingly lost coordination of your body, lost track of time and now you were almost emotionally and physically needy. Not that Tom would ever call you needy, or mean it in a bad way, he just didn’t know how else to describe how you were being.

**

The last straw came when you were making a brew for the two of you, after spending all day seemingly trying to make him happy, needing confirmation from him that your actions were indeed making him so.

“Did I put enough milk in your tea?”

“Yeah,” Tom furrowed his brows, “why?”

“I can make you another if not.” You panicked.

*

“Did I get the right one?” You asked as you brought a blanket down from the bedroom.

“I never specified which one I wanted.” Tom laughed and watched a panicked look escape you.

“Well when you said a blanket you must have had one in mind, I can go and get it.”

“Darling, calm down.” Tom said with furrowed brows as he forced you to sit with him and trying to stop your panic.

“I just want to make sure you’re happy. That I’m not misbehaving.” You said through a panicked voice and Tom’s concern hit a level he wasn’t sure was possible. Misbehaving? You weren’t a child, you weren’t his pet.

“Baby, you do make me happy.” Tom said. “What’s going on with you? What do you mean misbehaving?” Tom asked and he watched as you shrugged.

“I just want to make sure I’m being good.” You shrugged as you settled back down.

*

Tom watched as you filled the cup in your hand, the water rising and before Tom could stop it happening, it happened. The water overflowed and poured out onto your hand, you hissed in pain as you pulled it from the cup, putting the kettle down as you did.

“Fuck darling.” Tom panicked as he instantly grasped your arm and shoved your hand under the cold tap.

“That hurt a bit.” You said and Tom’s eyebrows shot up.

“A bit? Y/N/N, you’ve just practically scolded yourself.” Tom panicked as he continued to keep your hand under the cold tap. “Where were you?” He couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“I don’t know, I feel a bit,” you paused as you thought of the word. “Floaty,” you settled on.

“Floaty?” 

“Yeah, I feel like I keep drifting off today. I’m sorry, have I upset you?” You suddenly asked, eyes finding his.

“Upset? What? Darling, what is going on?” Tom asked as he placed both his hands on your face. You’d just burnt yourself and you seemed more concerned about whether he was upset than your burnt hand.

“I don’t know.” You admitted as tears sprung to your eyes.

“Oh sweetheart.” Tom said as he pulled you into his chest, making sure your hand stayed under the tap. He held for a few minutes, placing kisses into your hairline as your silent tears wet his t shirt. He pulled back after a while, pulling your hand from under the tap to examine it, he was relieved to see no blisters, that you were extremely fucking lucky and had avoided a trip to A & E.

Your hand was still red raw and had a heat to it so Tom grabbed a tea towel and drenched it in cold water, wrapping it around your hand.

“Tommy, I’m tired.” You said almost childlike, almost as you do when you’re in a drunken state. “I’m really tired.” You said again.

“Okay, I’m gonna go and grab some burn cream and then I’ll put you to bed, okay?” He reassured as he led you upstairs and into the bathroom. Once in there he quickly applied the cream to your hand, he was thankful Sam had talked him into buying some, the chef in him reminding the family how bad burns could be. Once he’d dressed you, he helped you get into bed, pulling the covers over you.

“Wait, where are you going?” You asked as Tom was about to leave the room. “You’re not staying?” You asked in a small voice. Your behaviour had certainly taken a turn over the day.

“I can if you want me to?” He said and he watched you frantically nod your head. He cuddled you until you fell asleep and then carefully removed himself from the bed, careful in his every move not to wake you.

It wasn’t long before he was dialling his best friends number and asking him to come over.

“What’s up?” Harrison asked he plopped down on the couch next to Tom.

“Y/N/N.” Tom sighed and Harrisons brows shot up in concern.

“Has something happened? Is she okay?” 

“I don’t know.” Tom huffed out as he ran a hand through his hair. “She’s not been herself today and I don’t know what to do.” Tom admitted.

“How’d you mean?”

“Well for starters she spent most of this morning tripping over things. She lost track of time earlier on today, you know her, she doesn’t do that.” Tom sighed and Harrison shrugged.

“Maybe she genuinely did, we can’t all be perfect.” Haz laughed and Tom looked at him seriously.

“Haz, she’s been, needy. Like I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, just out of character. She told me she didn’t want to ‘misbehave.’” Tom said and Haz furrowed his brows in thought.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.” Tom shrugged.

“Are you guys like, you know.” Harrison started nervously before collecting himself with a deep breath. “Do you have a dom, sub dynamic?” He asked and Tom furrowed his brows for what felt that the millionth time that day.

“Yeah.” Tom answered carefully.

“And is she the sub?” He asked.

“Harrison.” Tom warned, he wasn’t one to discuss the ins and outs of his sex life with other people, he saw it as a private thing between two people.

“Just,” Haz sighed. “Hear me out, please. Is she?”

“Yeah.” Tom answered again, carefully.

“Have you had a session recently?” He asked again and Tom nodded in response, he was lost, what the fuck did this have to do with anything? “When you engage in your dom side, do you, you know, like ‘punish’ her for misbehaving?”

“Harrison, what the fuck has this got to do with-” Tom cut himself off as realisation dawned on him. You’d been a brat yesterday and he’d acted accordingly.

“It’s called subspace mate.” Harrison said.

“But this has never happened before? Why would it happen now?”

“It doesn’t always happen, sometimes it just takes her hormones being out of balance. Maybe she slipped into it and you never fully coaxed her back, would explain why she’s stuck in a sub mentality.” Haz shrugged.

“But I’ve done everything we normally do in aftercare, I’ve looked after her, reassured her.” Tom reeled off.

“Maybe she’s looking for her dominating partner to bring her back?” Haz suggested. “Try being more forceful.”

“I don’t wanna push her Haz, she fucking burnt herself earlier, completely on another planet when she made a brew.” 

“Maybe you have been doing without realising it.”

“What?”

“Kept her in subspace, you’ve coddled her. Made her feel safe, taken care of. Look, I don’t know Tom, every woman is different but it sounds like based on her behaviour, that you have pulled her further under without meaning to.” 

“Okay, thanks Haz.” Tom said. They enjoyed a good hour or so together, catching up before Tom’s phone pinged with a message from you asking where he was. Tom sighed as he read it.

“Try being a little firmer with her.” Harrison suggested and Tom nodded as he said goodbye to his friend. “Don’t beat yourself up, these things take trial and error and as long as you are both safe, happy and learning it’ll be okay.” Harrison reassured as he placed a comforting hand on his friends shoulder before heading out.

Tom collected himself as he made his way back into your shared bedroom. Your eyes instantly finding his as you flew out of the bed and into his arms, he took a deep breath before his next move. Clearly he needed to change tactic, he just wasn’t sure which one you needed.

“Y/N,” he said as he pulled you back, holding you at arms length as he looked you deeply in the eye. “I need you to come back.” He said and he watched as you furrowed your brows.

“What do you mean? I’m here?”

“You’re not, not properly.” Tom said a little firmly. “You’re still in that floaty place, as you called it.”

“No, Tom.” You laughed. “I feel floaty, I didn’t go anywhere.” You giggled.

“You did and now I need you to come back.” He tried again.

“Tom, you’re being silly.” You laughed again, “I’m right in front of you.” You said, “see you’re touching me.” You continued as you gestured to his hands on your shoulders. Tom didn’t miss your tone, your bratty tone, he changed tactic, eyebrow raising in challenge.

“What did you just call me?” Tom asked, voice demanding, the same tone he used when he was ‘punishing’ you in bed. He watched as you smirked.

“I called you silly.” You challenged and Tom hummed as he backed you into the wall.

“Are you being a brat princess? Are you sure that’s what you want to go with right now? You’re making it sound like you want me to punish you.” He said, lips close to yours as his breath fanned your face, your breath hitching as you shook your head.

“No, I’m sorry, I don’t want to misbehave anymore.” You said and Tom looked you directly in the eyes.

“Then I want you to come back.” He spoke, voice laced in a tone that had told you to ‘get on the bed’, ‘cum for me.’ He watched as an understanding flashed across your eyes and Tom continued. “Come on princess, I need you to come back. I need my Y/N.” He whispered as he captured your lips in his own. “It would make me happy if you did.” He finished.

He watched as your eyes became less vacant, slowly coming back as he coaxed you out with well placed kisses and demands. It wasn’t long before your hand wound into his hair and Tom sighed in relief as his head found your neck.

“That was fucking weird.” You snorted, voice completely your own. 

“That’s never happened before.” Tom said as he pulled back to look at you.

“It was so strange, it’s like I needed you to be the opposite of how you are during aftercare. I just kind of stayed in subspace last night.” You rambled.

“You knew you were in subspace?”

“Well yeah, you’ve done it before but you always coaxed me out of it.” You admitted and Tom looked confused.

“What happened last night? Why didn’t it work?” Tom panicked, had he missed something? 

“Don’t know.” You shrugged. “I suppose you fell asleep quicker than usual and I had one of the best orgasms I think I’ve ever had.” You said and you took in the look on Tom’s face. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up, it happens.”

“But I missed it.”

“Yeah but you still kept me safe. That’s what this is about right? Having fun and being safe. Tom you make me feel so safe, how do you think I end up in subspace sometimes, it’s a different kind of pleasure. As a sub I make myself completely vulnerable to you and you make me feel so safe and wanted and the level of trust I have in you is off the charts and sometimes it just happens, sometimes I drift off.”

“Maybe we pushed it too far.” Tom said as he took your hand in his, placed a kiss to the back of your injured hand. “I couldn’t protect you from this.”

“Tom,” you sighed. “The burn was a mistake, you can’t protect me from everything. If you’re worried I regret what we did last night because of this then don’t be. I don’t regret anything we’ve tried and I trust you, okay? Remember that one time I used the safe word and you stopped immediately and took care of me?” You asked and Tom nodded.

“This is something that does take an element of trial and error, getting fully used to everything that can happen. You took care of me, you brought me back, Tom I trust you completely with me.” You continued. “I’ve never given myself over to someone the way I have you and I’m glad, I’m glad I get to experience these things with you and I wouldn’t change it or you for the world.”

“I promise I won’t miss it next time.” Tom reassured and you smiled as you kissed him.

“I don’t doubt that for a second.”

[sugako]

in your dreams

[sleep paralysis demon] matsukawa issei x reader cw: 18+ nsfw minors absolutely dni, reader w/ vagina, gn reader, sleep paralysis, nightmares, suffocation, noncon/dubcon, monster/demon fucking, oral (receiving), size(?) kink, fear kink, degradation, unprotected, creampie, implied dp wc: 2k a/n: happy halloween, have some sleep paralysis demon sex. for the DAMNED COLLAB pleaseee read everyone else's they're all so talented!!

It was happening again. After a handful of years, you thought you had gotten over it, but now it was back and worse. Still, you knew how to deal with this - keep your eyes closed, relax, and ignore whatever you see in the shadows. You drank tea, put down your phone, took medication, went to bed at the same time every day, walked for half an hour, did everything right. But this was different.

Against your own bodily will, your eyes were forced open and it was there, staring down at you. Mussed curly hair framed a hollow face and a truly unholy body. It was nearly a shadow if not for those nauseating, unblinking eyes. Yet he - no, it, you had to keep calling it ‘it’ otherwise everything was too real - was strangely captivating in a way you couldn’t comprehend. Monstrous and ugly, yet there was a draw like an accident you couldn’t look away from.

Along with the demonic vision, there was always a dream. The same dream. Sometimes you had dreams along with the paralysis before, but never the same over and over. You would wake up chained to the floor of a dark dripping stone basement - or maybe a cave you couldn’t tell - and it would be standing above you. With its grey skin that smelled like decay and chemicals, it would loom over you, drawing in closer until you tried to scream. But just like every time, nothing would come out but a strangled, sigh of air.

In its chest a debased mix between a chuckled and growl would rumble out, the sound deafening even though it stood a good few feet away. It would raise its scraggly hand and reach toward your face, but just before it could touch, you would wake up on the cold, hard floor again. Over and over the dream would repeat until your eyes opened up in your bedroom and the real horror began.

The same figure would be standing just beside your bed, smell gone, but the shadow being very much the same frame. Delicate floorboards would creak under the weight of his - no its - heavy feet as he closed in until you managed to really come to, gasping for breath and scrambling to turn on the light.

For nearly a week you had escaped it. No disruptions to sleep, no bad dreams of the stone floor and the ugly monster, nothing. But on the sixth night of peace, you woke up just past three in the morning, limbs locked in place. There was no horrid chain and stone floor dream this time, though, but the alternative was more jarring.

Its face is close this time, if it had any breath you knew you would be able to feel it. In this position, it was difficult to tell yourself this was all in your head, just a little hallucination that came with the disorder and nothing more. You’re stuck, already trapped in a corner by the monster.

You always thought that before you were to die, you might have some peaceful thoughts, but there’s nothing on your mind. Head blank with fear, and body fully unable to move, all you do is lie there and stare at the horrid thing.

Slowly and horrifyingly, the pillow beside your head moves, it folds itself at his will and closes over your face. Your entire body aches as you painfully attempt to move, to scream, to do anything at all. Before you can contemplate your own painful death, the bed dips beside you.

There’s a short, stunted sigh.

A new wave of fear rushes through you. It’s all too real.

“It’s better if you just relax.” His voice is softer than you imagined. More human. “But you know that.”

Somewhere inside you knew that was a command. He was telling you to calm down, and the only option as the pillow closed in tighter around your nose and mouth was to comply. You give up the fight to scream and move. Within the next second the pillow is gone along with your blanket.

By some miracle, your eyes are still closed, though you think that may be worse when you hear him chuckle.

“So cute,” he coos, “I don’t know why you still try to scream when it never works. I even was nice, gave you a little break, but it’s hard for me to stay away from you.”

The bed shifts again, moving as his weight does. You can feel his burning hot shoulders brush against your thighs and finally let your eyes fly open. All you can do is move your neck a bit and look down at him. You can see his face much more clearly in the soft glow of the small night light in the corner of your room.

It was almost funny, you had bought the light just so you would stop seeing him. He was almost handsome, there was something pretty about the upturn of his mouth and the bored look in his eyes.

“Didn’t wear anything on your bottom to bed? You must’ve been waiting for me.” He hums. Your mouth parts to scream, even though you still can’t, but he puts a finger to his lips. Before you even inhale you clamp your lips shut again. His tongue snakes out, long and thin like a snake around his fingers, and threatens to lick at your bare thigh.

“I’ve watched you for some time. Fun to see your little cunt so up close though.” He ignores your frightened stare in favor of getting comfortable between your legs and lifting your thighs over his shoulders. He’s so hot you feel as though he might burn the back of your calves. “I watch you before you sleep when you touch yourself. I feel you think about me when you cum. So scared and so full of lust, you’re disgusting. And those things you use and pretend they’re me are so small, at least in comparison.”

You don’t think what he’s saying is true - you don’t imagine the shadow demon, not that you can remember, but he’s so convincing and maybe it is true. Your throat feels as though it’s closing, filled with a lump from embarrassment and fear.

“And now you’re getting so wet.” He purrs, tongue sticking out again to lick right between your legs. A tremor racks through your spine, the most you’ve moved since this began. It can’t be true, even if this thing is real, you wouldn’t get wet from being so afraid. “Usually, your cute, little thrashes and the way you wake up out of breath is enough for me, but I’m getting kinda bored. And I think this will feed me much better.”

You brace for pain, maybe to wake up, to die, literally anything except two hot, wet tongues pushing against you. One slips inside of you, so easily with the wetness pooling out of you, and the other laps at your clit. They move together with practice and without missing a shallow thrust and suck.

If this is a dream, which you’re sure it has to be, then this is okay. It’s not real, just a weird, scary sex dream brought on by all those other dreams and the chilling shadow you made up in your mind.

It’s even more than okay when his tongue inside curls up against you and the other presses down on your clit. Weakly, your hips move on their own, just barely able to twitch with him holding your thighs against himself.

Everything is amplified by the fact that you can’t move, all the things you can feel inside are magnified. The wet noises are so loud but sound so far away, and the sheets around you feel soaked. Tears are leaking out of the corners of your eyes, chest pounding with heavy, silent breaths and strangled moans.

The pressure is at the brink of bubbling over and he senses it. His motions get more precise and harsh, leading you over the edge in seconds. A series of almost-painful jolts run through your body as you cum, it’s on the brink of violent the way your body thrashes and convulses around him, his tongue still pumping into you.

You’re gasping for air, the spell broken on your muscles and you feel as though you could really move. Well, maybe you could, but the impact of the orgasm has made you less useful than a puddle, limp like a sad ragdoll on the bed.

It’s real. Too late you’ve realized it.

You still can’t move, gasping for air as he sits up, your ankles sadly resting on his shoulders still. He’s already nude. All these times you had seen him before you hadn’t noticed how big…

“Scared?” He chuckles dark and deep. “You’ll probably be okay. Unless you move or scream.” His thick eyebrows knit up, obviously laughing at something in his own head. “Well, you can scream, I guess. Won’t be able to stop yourself anyway. And if you really want, you can even use my name.”

“I…” your voice is ruined. It’s hoarse and strained, just barely there. You don’t get your question out before the answer comes into your head. Issei.

“Yes, you do.” He says sternly. “You were so tight around my tongue, wonder how you’ll feel around my cock?” You watch as his eyes rake over you, his hands slowly pushing up your top until your tits fall out. He scratches long nails down them, making sure to pinch at your nipples before he digs his fingers into your sides and flips you over.

The feeling of a pillow pressed so close to your face panics you for a moment, and it’s all you can do to turn your head to the side. His hands move down your waist to lift your hips just enough to meet his. You barely feel his tip press against you before he’s slamming in.

“T-too bi-!”

“Shut the fuck up.” He barks.

Split open by the wide girth and considerable length, you whimper into the sheets. His bruising pace is amplified by the way he’s battering your cervix and walls, the wet slaps of skin seeming to only make him hungrier.

“Forgot how great this feels, little human cunt. And you’re so well behaved.” He grunts. After a long draw back he slams in so hard your body collapses into the bed and he follows with, lying his large body on top of yours and simply continuing from the new, deeper angle. You’re screaming and drooling into the bed, hiccupped sobs blossoming every other gasp. “Gonna let me have you every night, huh? Course you are, creaming so good all over me. Not even going to use all your holes tonight, too bad for-” his hips stutter as you clamp around him without meaning.

“You like that?” He laughs, cock growing impossibly larger as his release sneaks up on him. “So fucking gross, so wet getting fucked by your own fear, and all you can do is whine and want more. All of you are so greedy, it’s tragic.”

Sobs rack your body as he buries himself deep inside of you and finally stops. You can feel his cum filling up your insides, thick and dripping down, only stopped by his cock that still hasn’t moved. His cock just barely gets smaller, not even noticeable to you with how swollen you are, but he’s not getting any softer.

“That was alright for the first time, I think you can beg more next time okay. Maybe if we fill up both holes now.”

[cellophaine]

Home With You

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Word Count: 3003

Warnings: None.

Author's Note: I figured I should give you guys a break from my smutty contents lol. And I just wanted to write an indulgent fluff piece.

As always, every likes, comments, reblogs, feedbacks and ask submissions are greatly appreciated! My heart goes into cha-cha-cha mode whenever I receive notifications from you guys (it's a happy mode)

Prompt requested by: Anonyomous (love you anon <3)

------

"Matt?!"

You called out as you walked into his apartment; the exhaustion crept into your voice. His name echoed back to you in the empty place, a tell-tale sign of Matt's absence. You huffed out a frustrated sigh as you stepped out of your heels, padding into the living room on bare feet, much to your relief. You dropped your briefcase to the floor with abandon, planting face-first onto the couch, releasing another weary sigh. This was the third night in a row you missed him on his way out, but it was nothing out of the ordinary. At this point, it had become a regular occurrence. You felt like you barely saw him as of late. All you had was the little time in the mornings with Matt's body wrapped around yours in the bed. And it wasn't enough. How could it be?

Your workload as a paralegal at Hogarth, Chao & Benowitz had picked up in the past few months. The pay was more than decent, but it resulted in more time assisting Jeri Hogarth in cases and less time spending with your boyfriend. The immense amount of guilt you felt kept building up, as you knew Matt was not happy about your situation, but he always knew what to say to make you feel better. You had spent time running around New York for researches, staying late at the office at Hogarth's requests.

The days would always end with you worn out to the bones. Matt hated how the job was clawing at you, chipping away a piece of you every day, leaving you stressed out and exhausted. But he was supportive anyway, understanding that it was your choice in the matter. And so, Matt was the only constant, comforting source in your life. He would be there every time you woke up, cuddling and kissing you, making sure that you had all your meals throughout the day, taking care of you when you couldn't do it yourself.

You dragged your enervated self into the shower, lathering yourself up with Matt's shampoo and body, indulging in his scent under the hot water. The clean smell of his soap in the shower steam helped relieve the ache of missing him in your chest. You had slept over his apartment every night. Still, ironic enough, you felt like you drifted away further from him, not of your own volition. Matt was the anchor that kept you close, but how long would it last? How long would he be willing to stay?

You patted yourself dry, walking into his bedroom, the air cool on your exposed skin. You opened the closet, pulling out a sweatshirt of his. You hugged it close to your chest, dropping your head low to inhale the smell of him. You pulled the shirt on along with his too-big sweatpants, tightening the strings at the waistband. You put on his socks, too, tucking them over the hems of the sweats, just like how he always did it. A habit of his that you had absorbed. A bittersweet thought struck you. Despite being in his apartment, often living in his space more than your own, you wore his clothes just to feel closer to him. He was close but never close enough.

You found your way to the couch again, plopping your head on the pillow. You curled into yourself, settling in a comfortable position. You didn't bother with dinner, for you craved something else. You just wanted him here. You wanted to spend every second you could get with him to make up for the time you had missed. You tried to stay up, waiting for him to come back. But the toll of the day pulled on your eyelids, luring you into sleep with much resistance from you.

A weightless feeling woke you from your sleep. You blinked sleepily; your hazy vision revealed Matt, still in his Daredevil suit, the helmet was nowhere in sight. His unseeing eyes radiated the comfort and affection you loved, and you hummed happily at the blessed sight of him. A smile pulled on the corner of Matt's lips as he laid you down on the bed, pulling the soft blanket over you. He brushed your hair off your eyes before leaning in, pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead. You smiled sleepily at his gesture, tilting your face up as his warmth left your skin. Your lips met his halfway, and you sighed into the kiss that you craved with the entirety of your being. You needed this, needed him; you yearned for him. Your hand found its way to him; his light stubble tickled your fingertips. You caressed his face, needing to touch, to feel him, as the kiss grew heavy. Finally, he pulled back from you with much reluctance, within your reach, just enough so you could hear his whisper.

"Have you had dinner? I left you your favourite in the fridge."

You pressed your head into the pillow before shaking your head, along with a muffled confirmation of his suspicion. His brows furrowed, and you quickly pulled on his jaw, drawing him closer. You resumed the kiss, and once again, Matt was the one who broke away. Lowering your voice in a soothing tone, you asked in the hope of distracting him.

"Do you have any injuries that needed to be looked at?"

"It was a pretty uneventful night. I know what you're doing, and it's not working."

He responded at once; his head shook slightly in disapproval. He knew you too well. You knew that. But you didn't want to get up while all you wanted was to bask in his familiarity, his warmth again.

"I had a very long day. I just want to go back to sleep, with you. Please?"

Your desperate plea tugged at his heart. His eyes softened as he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.

"Alright. But you will have a big breakfast, first thing when you get up."

You bit your lip, brows waggling at him, even though you knew he couldn't see that. A playful, suggestive tone glided into your voice.

"Oh, I definitely would like something 'big' for breakfast."

He let out a small laugh at your terrible tease.

"I'm serious. I was gone for a few hours, and you already neglected yourself."

"I promise. I'll be yours for the entire weekend. Now, can you get your ass in this bed, preferably naked? Pretty please."

He chuckled, standing up to pull his protective gear off. A few rustles later, the mattress dipped as Matt climbed into the bed behind you. He pulled you into his chest, pressing butterfly kisses on your hair. You turned onto your back, giving him easier access to your lips. He eagerly took you on your offer, pulling you in for a soft kiss, so soft that it made you melt into his embrace. He moved to kiss your cheeks, making his way to your eyelids, ending the kiss on your forehead.

"Sleep now, sweetheart. I'll be here when you wake up."

You turned to your side to cuddle into him, curling your hand behind his muscular back. You nuzzled your face into his firm chest, kissing and nibbling sleepily on the naked skin. You fell asleep promptly, grateful for the weekend ahead of you.

Your phone buzzed again and again on Matt's bedside table. You groaned, burrowing your face further into Matt's chest. The faint scent of blood and sweat, of Matt, infiltrated your senses through a daze. However, whoever on the other side stayed persistent; calls came in after calls. Finally, you untangled your limbs from Matt's with frustration, answering the call to hear Hogarth's voice on the other side.

"Where the fuck are you? Why didn't you pick up your damn phone?"

"It's… it's the weekend."

"And? This case won't go away itself. Come in now, or you're fired."

Your ears met with the dead tone from the other line. You fell back onto the warm bed, feeling like you could burst into tears. Pressing your face into the pillow, you muffled a silent scream. Matt propped on his elbow, caressing your back with the other hand.

"Stay here. Quit the job. You deserve so much better than how Hogarth's treating you."

You murmured.

"I can't. Her words have weight. She can really help me with my career. The pay isn't bad either."

"I know, but it's not worth it. I don't like seeing you bend over backward to every of her demand. I can feel your exhaustion every night. I hate seeing you so harrowed and stressed out."

You sighed heavily.

"It's not like I can quit right away. Not until I can secure a better job somewhere else. Rent in Hell's Kitchen is crazy. Until then, I'm stuck with her."

You moved around in the place, talking to Matt as you got ready. When you stepped out of the bathroom into the living room, dressed in your work attire, Matt walked over to where you stood, offering you a cup of tea. You smiled sadly at him, stroking his cheeks. Then, you raised on your tiptoe, kissing him swiftly before picking up your briefcase, making your way to the door.

"I'm sorry, I can't drink the tea. I'm already late. I'll see you later tonight?"

Matt fell into silence; his head turned away from your direction. The mugs of tea in his hands stayed still and abandoned. You felt an awful jerk on your heartstring for leaving him like this. You spoke softly.

"I love you."

One moment of silence, then two. Matt reluctantly spoke, his voice small, barely audible.

"Love you, too."

You gnawed on your bottom lip in defeat, walking out the door. Your heart grew heavier with every step you took, carrying you further away from him.

When the elevator opened, you were working at your desk, just outside of Hogarth's office. You looked up just in time as the infamous P.I of Hell's Kitchen walked past your desk, sparing a glance towards you. You sprang up from your seat, running after her.

"Ms. Jones, I'm sorry, but you can't go in there. Unfortunately, Ms. Hogarth is not available at the moment."

Jones reeked of alcohol, but there was no sign of intoxication. She scoffed.

"I don't care if she's fucking another secretary in there. Step aside. I don't want to hurt you."

You stood in her path, taking your stance. Although preventing Jessica Jones from entering your boss' office wasn't your job, Hogarth made you do it anyway. She made you do many things that went beyond your responsibilities as a paralegal, as she always held her power over your head like an invisible sword, readied to strike at any given time.

Jessica rolled her eyes, sidestepping you. You stuck your foot out in her path, making her boot catch on your heel. She stumbled lightly, whirling around to face you.

"Seriously?"

You swallowed, shrugging.

"A girl's gotta do what she's gotta do."

"Maybe that girl should get another job and stop working for that monster."

Jessica quickened her pace, pushing the door open as you chased after her.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Hogarth, but she …."

"… tired of your shit, Hogarth. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Jessica gritted out the words. Your boss sent a deathly glare at you.

"Leave us."

She flicked a wrist at you, and you closed the door behind you as fast as you could. You went back to your desk, speeding through your mountain of paperwork. About half an hour later, Jessica walked out with a menacing expression on her face, heading straight for the elevator. Jeri walked out about two minutes later, looming over your desk.

"If that happens again, I will personally destroy your little, pathetic career. You hear me?"

You nodded solemnly.

"Have them on my desk before 5."

Hogarth left you alone for the rest of your time there. You were done with the work at a little over 3 PM. You dropped it off, and it was refreshing to see a surprise expression on her face for once instead of the usual scowl you received. Then, you headed straight for Matt's place, couldn't wait to get back to your boyfriend, despite the little not-an-argument you had earlier that day.

He wasn't home when you got there. You sighed, afraid you had messed things up with him. After changing into something more comfortable, you sat down on Matt's kitchen table with your laptop open and a steamy plate of food Matt left you last night. You sat there, your fingers tapping away on your device for what felt like hours until you heard the sound of the door being opened. Matt walked in, dressed in his usual gym clothes with a duffle bag hanging off his shoulder. His face was flushed, his hair stuck out adorably. You stood up, lingering at the chair. You cleared your throat.

"I'm… sorry for this morning. Are we … okay?"

You ached to hug him, to be gathered into his arms, to kiss him. Your bottom lip trembled slightly. You wouldn't know what to do if he said no.

He could sense your uncertainty with every word. His face softened at your vulnerable disposition, his arms opened wide, dropping his cane and bag to the floor with little care.

"Of course we are."

You lunged into his embrace, holding him tight as he picked you up easily, his face buried in the crook of your neck. You found his lips, pouring your heart and soul into the kiss. Eventually, you pulled away from each other as you gasped for air, your foreheads touching.

Matt lowered you down to the ground, still holding you in his arms, his hand caressing your spine in a soothing motion.

"I'm looking up other jobs. Hogarth is … horrible, and I'm always stressed out. You're right. It's not worth it."

"You know … Nelson & Murdock can use a helping hand."

Matt raised his brow at you; an endearing grin pulled at the corner of his lips. You smacked his chest playfully.

"As if I'm not helping you guys in my free time already."

You trailed a finger from the waistband of his sweats, ghosting over his abdomen and chest, ended your way at the pulse on his neck, stroking the delicate arc of his throat. Matt let out a small groan of pleasure.

"That means you already have an in with the firm."

You squinted your eyes at Matt while he feigned innocence.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes. I would love to have you there. We still have to discuss this with Foggy, but I think he'd be thrilled."

The earnestness in his voice was unconcealed. Working for Matt and Foggy was a tempting proposal, but you wanted to give it some thought first.

"Let me think about it."

The week started anew, with another visit from Jessica Jones. Only this time, you didn't cease your work pace, even as she walked past your desk. Jessica halted, looking at you skeptically.

"Why are you not stopping me right now? Did Hogarth call of her little guard dog?"

You looked up from your computer screen, giving her a nonchalant shrug.

"Nah, the order is still in effect. But I don't care."

The P.I gave you a nod and headed for Hogarth's office.

Before the workday ended, you were summoned by your fuming boss. Hogarth stood at her desk, a glass of whiskey clutched tight in her hand. She looked upon your entry, sneering at you.

"What part of preventing Jessica Jones from entering my office that you didn't understand? Do you —"

"I understand. I just don't care."

You dropped off the folder on Hogarth's desk. She narrowed her eyes at the manila envelope.

"This is my letter of resignation. I quit. I would say it was an honour to work with you, but that would be a lie."

You left the office that day feeling so much better than you had felt in months. There was a spring in your steps as you climbed the stairs to Matt's place. You walked in as an aroma of mouthwatering food being cooked engulfed you, welcoming you home. Matt was in the kitchen, facing the stove. You walked up behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso. Matt lifted an arm over your shoulder, pulling you in to kiss your forehead. Then, he turned off the stove, fully angled his body to you and gave you a warm embrace.

"So you did it? How did she take it?"

"She was furious, Matt. She threatened to make sure I could never practice law ever again. Over and over. But I'm not worried. She can threaten me however she wants. I know the law."

"I'm so proud of you, sweetheart. You're better off without her. And if she dared to do that, you wouldn't be alone. Foggy and I will have your back."

You hugged him even tighter, pressing your ear to the steady rhythm of his heart. You stayed like that for a moment as the sound of Hell's Kitchen played in the background. Matt buried his nose into your hair, peppering your face with kisses. Then, at last, he spoke up.

"So, have you given more thoughts on working for Nelson & Murdock?"

You made a tsk sound, tapping a finger against your lips, pretending to be in deep thoughts.

"I don't know. Wouldn't it make quite a scandal since I'm dating one of the bosses?"

"Considering the other boss already knows about the arrangement, no one else has to. We can keep a secret -"

Matt dipped his head; his lips brushed over the curve of your ear purposefully. The mere contact sent a shiver down your spine in anticipation. Finally, he released the last part of his sentence; his voice dropped dangerously low, dripped in an alluring invitation.

"- and have fun with it."

[hangovercurse]

Until You Fall Asleep

After moving in with the crew to help cure your quarantine boredom, you find a new way to deal with your insomnia.

Request: “Could you please do a Colson fanfic where you're a friend of the gang and you move into their house for quarantine so you're not alone. Colson finds out you have terrible insomnia and starts staying up to keep you company and you gradually start sleeping in his bed because it's the only place you seem to actually sleep. You start to get really close through these late night chats, watching films, sharing stuff and opening up to each other... Friendship starts to develop into something else. I need some fluff to see me through these sleepless nights! 🙏😘 Thanks!”

Colson X Reader

Warnings: cursing

Word Count: 3487

Living with your best friends during a nationwide quarantine seemed like a good idea when you agreed to it, but after the 5th night of wandering the huge house late at night because you couldn’t sleep, you were starting to think you should’ve stayed where you were. At least at your own place, you didn’t have to worry about sneaking around so as not to wake anyone up.

Luckily, no one seemed to notice that you woke up earlier than everyone else in the house or went to sleep later. Or if they did, no one said anything.

Day five

Tonight hadn’t been going so well. You had tried showering, you hadn’t eaten for at least a few hours before trying to sleep, you turned your lavender diffuser on, you’d even tried yoga. Nothing helped, and you were left staring at your ceiling.

Frustrated and uncomfortable, you rolled out of your bed, sock clad feet pattering across your room and slowly pulling your door open. You made your way through the house and out to the pool, letting the cool night air wash over you. A deep breath fell from your lips as you began to pace around the deck, hoping to tire yourself out enough to sleep.

After a few minutes, you heard the sliding glass door open, looking up and finding Colson stepping out with a blunt in his hand. He smiled tiredly at you, “you’re up early.”

You raised an eyebrow, “what time is it?” You figured it was 4, maybe 5 am.

“Almost 7,” he looked concerned, “you okay?”

You were trying to figure out how you managed to stay up until 7 am without a wink of sleep, “yeah, just couldn’t sleep. It’s cool though. Why are you up?”

Colson lit the blunt as he spoke, “couldn’t sleep either.”

Day eight

You found yourself curled up on the couch, reading a book at 5:30 in the morning after hours of trying to fall asleep. You swore if you stayed in your room a second longer, you’d break something, so you snuck out to the TV room with the most boring book you could find.

“Do you ever sleep?” Colson’s voice surprised you, making you jump lightly in your seat. The man chuckled at your reaction, taking a seat next to you.

You pouted at his glee, “I could ask you the same thing.”

He shrugged, “sleep is for the weak.”

A sarcastic chuckle fell from your lips, “oh yeah, I feel so strong and cool right now.”

The man laughed with you, but soon turned serious, “serious though, are you good? Both nights this week I haven’t slept you’ve been awake, and I know you don’t take naps.”

You sighed, “it’s just insomnia, I’ve been dealing with it on and off for a couple years now. It’s not a big deal.”

He cocked his head in curiosity and worry, “how much sleep have you been getting?”

You ducked your head in embarrassment, “I slept for an hour at like 3, hopefully I’ll fall asleep again at some point tonight.”

Colson frowned, “can I help at all?”

A small smile fell upon your face, “sometimes talking helps, but honestly not much else. It’s not that big of a problem, though. I’ve been dealing with this for a while, I’m used to it.”

He looked shocked, “dude, you sleep for a few hours every night! That’s a problem. I don’t even know how you’re still alive.”

“Like you’ve never gone a couple days in a row without sleeping,” you said sarcastically.

“No! I go to sleep late as fuck, but I sleep eventually most nights. You’re on a whole different level.” His tone was slightly defensive, if not concerned, “do I need to get you some pills or something? I can do that.”

Your eyes went wide, “Jesus, Kells, no. I have enough to deal with, I don’t need another addiction on my hands too.”

He chuckled, “I’m just saying it might help. I’m assuming weed does nothing?”

You sighed sadly, “it did for a while, but I think my body got used to it. I just have to wait it out until I inevitably pass out.”

“Well, guess I’ll just bother you until you fall asleep.” He relaxed further into the couch, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“Colson, you really don’t have to-“

“You won’t let me get you drugs, so I’m gonna stay up with you. It’s the least I can do.” He smiled widely, knowing he would get his way.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that, right?”

Day Twelve

“You think that Captain America has the best character arc? Seriously?”

Your nightly chats with Colson had moved into his room after Baze was woken up by Colson’s loud laughter during a conversation about what type of dogs you’d both be. So, you were sat cross legged on his bed, facing each other in deep conversation.

The man tried to defend his stance to you, “okay, I know everyone loves Tony’s whole asshole to hero thing, but Captain America went from this goody two shoes to this badass criminal and he still got the girl in the end.”

You shook your head, “you’re just wrong in every way. I’m not even saying Iron Man had a better story, but literally every other character developed more than Steve. He wasn’t that badass in the end, and the fact that he went back to get the girl just proves he never really changed all that much. He was static.”

“So, you’re telling me, if we watched every single movie with Captain America in it, you wouldn’t be entertained?” He crossed his arms and leaned backwards, eyeing you challengingly.

You scoffed, “the movies are fine, I just think that Marvel has produced better superheroes with better plotlines.”

“New plan, we’re going to watch every marvel movie in order and then you can tell me that I’m right.” He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV across from his bed.

Rolling your eyes, you moved back to lean against the headrest, legs spread out in front of you, “you’re not right, but I’ll watch them just to see the look on your face when you realize you’re wrong.”

Colson flopped down on the bed next to you, throwing an arm over your shoulder and pulling you so that you were leaning into his side. A yawn escaped his mouth, “if you get tired, let me know.”

You giggled, “I’m always tired, I just can’t sleep. I won’t get offended if you fall asleep though.”

He pulled a face, “I’m not falling asleep.”

About an hour into the movie the slow rise and fall of his chest indicated differently. You chuckled to yourself once you realized he had fallen asleep, turning further into his chest, and allowing yourself to get more comfortable.

Somewhere between 4 and 5 am, you found your eyes finally closing of their own accord, unconsciousness washing over you.

Day 17

Since starting your marvel movie binges with Colson, you’d found yourself getting more sleep. You couldn’t tell if it was from the movies or from Colson, but either way something seemed to be working.

Tonight, however, even your new routine wouldn’t lull you to sleep. You tried every breathing exercise in the book, but nothing seemed to work. Colson had fallen asleep a while ago, his arm wrapped around you as per usual, so you couldn’t talk yourself to sleep.

So, you decided to take a stroll around the house, hoping the small form of physical activity would help. But in order to get out of bed, you would have to find a way out of Colson’s embrace without waking him up.

You slowly and gently grabbed his hand and removed it from your side, laying it on the bed next to you. Then, you sat up slowly, only to be pulled back into his chest, “where’re you going?”

His voice was deep and gravelly, sleepiness very evident. You responded with a whispered, “I can’t sleep, was gonna go walk around.”

He pulled you in closer to him, nuzzling his face into the crown of your head, “but you’re so warm.”

You chuckled, cuddling into the man, “fine, I’ll stay.” You tried to close your eyes and find sleep, but again, none came. Sighing, you accepted that you would be stuck in your current position, realizing there were worse things than being wrapped up in a beautiful boy’s arms.

Day 25

“I know aliens probably exist, but do you think they’d ever take one of us to study?”

Colson chuckled at your question, “like a human in general or, like, you and me?”

“Like you or me. Do you think we’re important enough to be studied?”

He squeezed your waist, “I think you are in desperate need of sleep.”

Laughing, you responded, “I’m serious! And I have been sleeping, thank you very much.”

“Okay, fine. I think if aliens ever came to Earth, they’d probably be more interested in, like, genius billionaires or really dumb people, like people from Florida.”

You slapped his arm, “don’t be mean to Florida.”

You could feel the vibrations from his laughter, making you giggle. “Fine, but my point is they wouldn’t be interested in us unless they’re really into music.”

“Darn,” you huffed.

He raised an eyebrow at you, “you want aliens to take you and study you?”

Balancing yourself on his chest, you lifted yourself up to look down at him, “yes! That would be so fucking cool.”

He shook his head with a laugh, “you’re crazy.”

“Think about it, who else would be able to say they got studied by aliens. And then you’d know that you were important to someone, even if it is just alien scientists.”

Rolling his eyes, Colson pulled you back down into him, your hands still resting on his chest, “I don’t need aliens to know I’m important.”

“Well not all of us can be ubertalented rock stars with millions of fans,” you joked, a teasing smile on your face.

You glanced up to find his eyes trained on you, holding a softer look in them than you had expected, “I didn’t mean that.”

It took a few moments for his words to get processed by your brain, but you immediately dismissed the thought that he could be talking about you specifically. More than likely he was referencing his family in general, which you could be included in.

Day 31

To celebrate a full month in quarantine, the guys had decided to throw an in-house only party, which just meant that everyone had an excuse to drink together more than normal. You were staying mostly sober, knowing that otherwise the boys would most likely break something, most likely themselves.

You watched from your place on the kitchen counter as Rook, Baze, Slim, Dre, Irv, Dub, and Colson played a round of King’s cup.

“Y/N, you have to drink,” Rook called from across the room, “it’s a six.”

“If there’s no women playing then you just skip that card, Rookie.” You called but took a sip from your cup anyways.

Colson whined, “this is boring.” You chuckled as he moved away from the table to come stand by you, the rest of the guys continuing without him. He leaned against the counter next to your dangling leg, letting you run your fingers through his blond hair, “parties are boring now, Y/N.”

You could tell that he was gone, the alcohol having almost full control of him. “When we get out of quarantine, we’ll throw the biggest party ever, Kells,” you said, letting your hand fall to rest on his shoulder. The man grasped your hand in his and moved it back up to the top of his head, silently begging for you to continue. He turned into a cat, practically purring as he leaned into you, “hey, Kells, you tired?”

He shook his head, “no, ‘m gonna stay up with you, remember?”

You laughed softly, “it’s okay, Kells. You should get some sleep; I’ll be okay for a night.”

His arms wrapped around your middle, head burying into your stomach, “I’ll go to sleep if you do.”

“You gotta let me off this counter for that.” This was a side of Colson you rarely saw; the drunk, very cuddly version of Colson. Occasionally he’d cling on to you when he got really tired, but that was in the privacy of his room. Here he was hanging onto you in front of all his friends, though granted they were too drunk to notice anything unusual.

You hopped off the counter, taking on some of Colson’s body weight in order to get him up the stairs and to his room. Truthfully, you planned to leave him in his bed once you got him there, but he had other plans. As soon as you moved to walk away from the bed, he grabbed your arm sleepily, “why are you leaving?”

Running a hand along his jaw softly, you softly said, “I’m gonna go to my room.”

He whined, “you never sleep in your room, stay.”

You bit your lip, unsure how to respond to that, “Kells, you’re drunk, you need some sleep.”

“I can’t sleep without you.” His eyes were glazed over, making his pleading look even more appealing than normal.

Sighing, you muttered, “yes, you can. I’ll be right down the hall,” but he wasn’t taking no for an answer, hand still firmly around your wrist.

“No.”

You rolled your eyes, climbing into the bed next to him, “I’m only doing this because you need to go to sleep.” He hummed in response to that, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tightly into him, leaving no room for you to escape even if you tried.

Day 37

Nights with Colson had slowly turned into every moment with Colson. You woke up together, ate breakfast together, spent time together. You were rarely separated for long, not that either of you minded.

At some point, the line between friends and whatever lied next had gotten blurred, but not fully crossed. You and Colson were touchy and cuddly during the day as well as at night, and everyone in the house was starting to notice it.

Part of you just wanted to kiss him and see what happened, but you knew messing with a situation like this could go very wrong very fast. So, you just left it up to him to figure out where this thing would go, knowing he probably wouldn’t make the first move either.

But as you laid in his arms, listening to his midnight ramblings, you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if you took matters into your own hands. You watched his lips move as he spoke, wanting nothing more than to lean up and press your own against them. Of course, you would never actually do it, but it was nice to dream.

There was a lull in the conversation which was spent with your eyes dancing across each other’s face, trying to figure out what to say next. Suddenly, he blurted out, “can I get your advice on something?”

You nodded in response, a soft smile on your face. He continued, “this sounds so stupid, but there’s this girl I’ve been talking to recently and I can’t figure out if she ‘s into me or we’re just really good friends.”

You sat up slightly, perking an eyebrow up, “well what signs has she given you that she’s into you?” Your heart burned, hoping he was talking about you. It was a feeling that had been happening a lot recently whenever you were around him, which was almost all the time.

He sighed, “I mean, we talk like, all the time about everything. And I think she flirts with me, but I’m not completely sure if she’s flirting or she’s just being friendly.”

“Well, what signs say that she’s not into you?” You ask, biting your lip to hide the grin forming on your face.

Colson hesitated, “I mean, none, really. I’m just scared of messing up our friendship, you know?”

You nodded, “well, you’ll never know if you never ask her. I’m sure it’ll work out.”

He was quiet for a long time, clearly turning the advice over in his head, “I would but, with quarantine and everything, I just don’t think it’s the right time. We wouldn’t be able to actually, you know.”

Your heart fell, realizing that there was no possible way he was talking about you. It felt like every bone in your body turned to Jell-o at the realization, a lump forming in your throat. “Right, well, maybe you could invite her over to the house. Or do a cute facetime date or something.”

He nodded but stayed quiet. You fully sat up, swinging your legs off the bed. “Where are you going?” he asked softly.

Something inside of you was slowly crumbling, and you needed to get yourself out of his presence as soon as possible, “I just need to take a walk, I don’t think I’m tired enough to get any form of sleep.”

Colson let out a small “oh,” as you stood up and swiftly left the room, tears forming in your eyes.

You felt silly for letting yourself fall so easily and for thinking that he might have felt the same way. But you could’ve sworn there was something forming between you two.

And how had you never heard of this new girl? How long had that been going on?

So many thoughts swirled around in your head as you made your way downstairs and out to the empty pool deck, pacing the familiar space. You tried to convince yourself that your feelings weren’t as strong as they actually were so that this could somehow be easier, but you knew it wouldn’t work.

The sound of the door sliding open caught your attention, your eyes meeting those all too familiar blue ones. “You okay?” he asked, leaning against the wall of the house. You flashed him a fake smile with a nod. “This doesn’t have anything to do with what I just-”

“No, no,” you cut him off, “I’m just restless right now, needed to get some energy out.”

He nodded, watching you cautiously, “I’m actually super tired, so I’m gonna get some sleep. I’ll see you in a few?”

You nodded, knowing full well you had no intention of getting back into his bed, “yeah, goodnight.” You turned your head to the ground, studying the cement below your feet.

The door opened and shut, but when you looked back up, Colson was still standing outside, watching you. “I don’t know why I said that. There isn’t a girl in quarantine. Well, I mean, there is, but we wouldn’t not be able to see each other.”

Your head was spinning, trying to make sense of whatever he was saying. He kept talking, “I got nervous and chickened out and then you left and I felt like an idiot.” You looked up to him, confusion evident on your face as he continued on the borderline of rambling, “so I’m just gonna throw this out there and whatever happens, happens.”

You stared at him blankly, not fully processing his words or what was happening.

“Would you wanna go on a date with me? Or, like, whatever kind of date we can pull off here?”

Your eyes went wide in shock, the rollercoaster you had just been on emotionally twisting your mind. You didn’t speak for a few moments, making Colson nervous, but you finally got out a stuttered, “yes.”

He sighed in relief, “god I feel like such a teenager right now.”

You came back to your senses, narrowing your eyes at him, “do you realize the emotional turmoil you just put me through? I feel like I’m crazy!”

He chuckled, moving towards you, and wrapping his arms around your waist, “I know, I’m an asshole. But it was worth it, right?”

“I was literally rethinking my entire life out here,” you pouted, leaning into his touch.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

You rolled your eyes, “look who’s all Mr. confident now.”

The vibrations of his laugh shook your own body, “well, you said yes. This would be a completely different story if you had said no. Then I would be the one rethinking my entire life.”

You smirked teasingly, “I could always change my mind.”

He shook his head with a chuckle, “shut up.” His lips met yours, one hand reaching up to softly hold your jaw. You melted into the kiss, your arms moving to wrap around his neck loosely.

You pulled away slowly, a smile spread on your face, “this almost makes not being able to sleep worth it.”

Tag list:

@bakerkells​ @elviablo​​ @iambashfulperson​ @sunflowerbebe107​ @crystalbaby12​ @stormrider505​ @ticketstomydaydreams​ @mvrylee @daddyavesxx​​ @pettyvxbes​ @prettydreamboy​

[bratkook]

like you used to. jjk

“So kill me like you used to...”

part two.

pairing. ex boyfriend!jungkook x reader genre. angst, mentions of smut, toxic exes warnings. very toxic depictions of relationships, hints at infidelity, drunken mistakes, they’re both very toxic for each other and just can’t stay away, brief mentions of smut word count. 2.9k note. this is just a lump of angst that my mind conjured at 1am last night, i just love angst and messy relationships that are destined to fail 😌(its not edited so if u see a typo no u dont)

It always started with a phone call. 

Whether it was from you or him always changed. Sometimes he’d get the call at two in the morning, vision blurry as he brought the phone to his face and saw your name illuminated on the screen, that old goofy selfie you had together still set as your contact photo. He’d hesitate for a moment just to keep you on your toes before pressing accept, already getting up and putting pants on because he knew just what you were calling for. 

Tonight was your turn to be on the receiving end, laying in bed comfortably as you scrolled through random posts to try to help you sleep, the flash of his face fills your phone, it’s a random close up photo of his eyes staring right into the camera, crinkled up in a smile. Even though his name is changed in your contacts, no longer having the cute bunny emoji tacked to the end, you know you’ll still pick up in a heartbeat. And you do. 

The second you press accept you’re met with the familiar sound of his voice, slurred and thick as he speaks so jumbled up you would barely be able to understand him if you didn’t already know what he was saying. It was the same things he always said whenever he got like this, proclamations of love that only cut up your freshly scabbed over wounds, salt rubbing into them when he cries about how he misses you, promises to change. 

They get cut off when the phone is yanked away from his grasp, the second familiar voice belonging to his buddy Yugyeom now speaking into the receiver. “You gotta pick him up Y/N.”

The annoyance is evident in his voice, the babbling of Jungkook still heard in the background along with the dull beat of whatever place they were outside of. 

“He’s not my responsibility Yugyeom.”

He simply sighs into the phone, staring at his mess of a friend before rubbing his jaw, sore and aching from where he had just been socked after attempting to force him into an uber. “Yeah well he won’t let anyone else take him home, he’s drunk as fuck. I’ll send you the location.”

Not waiting for a response he hangs up and sends you a pin of where they’re at, thrusting the phone back into his friend’s hands before getting into that uber and leaving Jungkook alone while he whines against the dirty bar wall, crouching down onto the filthy sidewalk as the car drove off. 

Yugyeom knew you would come to his rescue like you always did, never once saying no and letting Jungkook fend for himself because on the rare occasions where you’d call him drunk and crying he’d do the same. 

Getting into the car still dressed in your pajamas, shoes thrown on without being laced up, hair still messy, it felt like routine now from how often it happened. Jungkook called you sober, text you while in a sane state of mind, but without fail at least once a month he’d get absolutely shit faced and call you, leaving you what he thought were heartfelt voicemails if by some chance you didn’t answer. 

It was the same bar every time, a bar you used to frequent with him, knowing the location and all the small side streets to get you there without needing directions. Doing this felt like such a normal part of your life it almost made you forget that you and Jungkook weren’t together anymore. It’s been a year since you split and you still find yourself thinking if things could be different. 

Would it have been best if you never confessed to each other, never admitted to the small inkling of a crush before it was able to fully blossom? It was hard not to wonder how different life would be now if you had walked away the first time things went south, if he had walked away after the first argument. 

Whenever he called you, pulled you in with those drunken promises it was easy to convince yourself that your relationship was perfect, that it was worth all of the struggles. Your brain morphed each fight, each time you cried alone, twisted it around and molded it to make it easier to consume, easier to believe you were meant to be. 

You thought you were soulmates, and maybe you were, two people destined to be together, meeting at the wrong time, under the wrong circumstances. What was meant to be perfect puzzle pieces connected had slowly turned into jagged edges that no longer clicked regardless of how hard you tried to jam them together, foolishly thinking you could spill your love into the gaps to mend the spaces, making the pieces whole once more. 

Love was never enough. 

Love made you stupid, made you blind and gullible, smiling through lies to avoid arguments, going to bed angry until he was hovering over you, coaxing you into forgiveness with soft kisses and gentle touches. It always went this way, regardless of who’s fault it was without fail he’d end up slot between your legs, the only time the puzzle pieces connected perfectly, allowing him to fuck you as if he’d never see you again. Murmurs of love and adoration were passed between panting breaths, sloppy kisses, shared moans to mask the empty promises you made every time.

Staying away from each other was a hard habit to kick, the two of you stuck on an endless game of seesaw, neither of you having the guts to get off and move on. All it took was a simple drunk phone call for you to go his way, the slur of his voice as he cries into the receiver about how much he loved you, missed you, needed you next to him, wanted to try again. It reeled you in so easily, winding you up until you were hauling your sloppy ex boyfriend off the dirty floor and into your small car. 

He remembers none of this, he never did, not fully anyways. Small tidbits of words he said flash in his mind as he comes to, drool on his cheek and neck sore from the unfortunate position he had slept in, groggy and unaware of his surroundings. 

He knew your apartment too well, recognized the green wall he had helped you paint, now holding endless pictures of you and your friends. None of Jungkook anymore. 

All of those photos were gone now, not burned or shredded in some ritual to get over him, simply tucked into a box and shoved so far into your closet you hoped you would forget it. You never did of course, the way the box laid dust free made it clear how often you pulled it out and sorted through the photos whenever you had too much wine, whenever you had off days where you just felt so alone and wished you could go back to the times you had convinced yourself were better. They weren’t, you knew they weren’t once you sobered up and balanced out your emotions.

Jungkook doesn’t feel bothered that not a trace of him remained visible in your home, he knew his presence lingered in the cracks, buried so deep in the crevices of your mind he knew you would always think of him. 

He groans softly as his eyes roam the interior of your home, the throbbing in his temples making him stop and shut his lids, not needing to analyze the place he was at less than two weeks ago when you had called him over. Jungkook briefly wonders if he should sneak his way out, not used to waking up on the couch instead of in your bed right beside you, maybe he had said something last night that crossed the line and landed him on the couch as a punishment. 

As you finally emerge from your room his plan of escape is put to a stop, his eyes gravitating towards your bedroom door, seeing the way you cautiously step out. Having heard Jungkook wake up since you had already been awake for the past hour, your body not allowing you to sleep while knowing he was in the other room, it took a few minutes of courage before you were able to face him. 

Spotting him on your couch shows how much he doesn’t belong, the pinned leather jacket he wore looking so harsh against the light coloring of your furniture, his dark disheveled hair contrasting with the tidy way you organized your apartment. He senses it, the skin crawling sensation that spreads the longer you stare at him, how he felt so out of place somewhere he used to call home at one point. 

“Thank you for picking me up.” He chooses to break the silence, voice raspy, his internal self screaming at him for always doing this. His eyes are sincere, genuinely meaning it, knowing just how messy he got when he had too much to drink, how his friends could never handle him when he crossed the line and began to call for you. 

Like always his words were routine so he expects it when you huff and say, “You need better friends Jungkook.”

“I know.” Because he did, he knew his friends enabled him, riled him up and once he became too much they pushed him onto you, knowing Jungkook’s grip on you was still too strong for you to ever say no. 

“What if I hadn’t picked you up? Would they have left you on the side of the bar to fend for yourself?”

“Probably,” he shrugs, from past experiences he knows very well they would have. His friends had dealt with Jungkook crying over you far too much, their patience fully stamped out, no longer able to tolerate him when he became like this. 

Not even realizing when he begins to smile as he thought of the nights you didn’t pick up, how he had ended up in the most random locations because he refused to go home to a place you weren’t, he snaps out of it when you scoff. “It’s not funny Jungkook, you could have gotten hurt or something.”

There it was, the reason you were upset. Not because he had called you and spewed the same bullshit he always did, no that you could tolerate. You were upset, and worried, that you’d get a following call from someone stating he had injured himself while calling for you. 

“I know.”

You pause to breathe, his short responses not irking you like it should, arms crossed over your chest as you observe your ex boyfriend still sitting on the couch, looking like a scolded child. 

“You can’t call me anymore Jungkook.” How you have the nerve to say that to him is funny, acting as if ten days ago you weren’t the one doing this to him, telling him you missed him, securing your anchor around his foot and dragging him back under with you. 

This is the checklist you needed to go down, a formality of the morning after so he doesn’t mind it. Instead he frowns at the way you continue to say his name, the way it rolls off your tongue makes him wince, missing the way you’d call him Kookie, playful pet names like Bunny, something he swore he hated but secretly loved. Jungkook wished he could hear you say it again, humor you with that damned bunny eared headband he’d wear to hear you laugh, squeal as he posed and dance for whatever silly video you recorded as you shouted out the ridiculous nickname. 

The last time he heard those words spill out of your mouth had been too long ago. 

“I’m sorry.” he admits, he knew he had to stop, couldn’t continue to hold onto the past, knowing how wrong you were for each other but he wasn’t the only one. Those were the same words you told him ten days ago, apologizing with guilty eyes for asking him to come over when you were lonely, needing a familiar body to occupy the space next to you, wanting his hands to soothe you, make you feel whole again just for a night. 

Once the sun came up it was back to normal, the two of you having the repeat conversation you had every time, the exact one you were having now. A formality. Nothing more, just mindless words that you would both agree to just to move along, to make you both feel better, more secure with yourself until the next time the phone rang. 

Your heart twists in your chest as you look at him, the same toxic love you had for him brewing in your heart, spilling over and burning you but you ignore the pain, convince yourself you don’t feel it as you breathe in. That same rope latches around Jungkook’s ankle as you avert your eyes for a brief second before looking back at him with a small sigh. “Do you want breakfast? I know how you get when you have a hangover.”

He smiles for the first time, charming as always, looking up at you through the subtle waves in his hair. “I probably shouldn’t.”

You know this. He definitely shouldn’t because breakfast will turn into words exchanged, civil at first, flirty the next, a coin flipped to decide if a petty argument would begin or if you’d reminisce about the good times. Regardless of the outcome, what always followed ended with you moaning out his name as he rocked into you, those same empty promises spilling through his lips that you swallowed with a kiss. 

A brief moment of bliss, a small dose of the past that only serves to hurt you further but you crave it, loving the small rush that came with arguing, the roughness of his hands as he pushed you around before sliding home, burying his face into your neck as he broke you down all over again. 

Normally you’d try to convince him further, but as your mouth opens to protest you get flashes of the night before, how you had carried Jungkook up your flight of stairs, hearing him ramble about nonsense so slurred together you paid it no mind. You would have had him sleep in your bed beside you like you always did but when you fish his phone out and begin to slide his jacket off it buzzes to life. 

Always being nosey you type in his password, smiling when you realize it was still your old anniversary but when you unlock it and see a flood of messages from a girl named Natalie, calling him babe, asking where he was, the smile falls from your face as you start to snoop. 

It doesn’t take much scrolling through their thread of messages to easily discover she was his girlfriend, blissfully unaware that he was shit faced and calling you, confessing to his love for you while she laid at home and wondered if he was having fun with his friends. She reminded you of yourself, of the way you used to be with him and it left a sour feeling on your tongue. 

“Yeah you probably shouldn’t.” 

He stands up now, following you slowly as you approach the door, heavy boots thumping on the hardwood as he reluctantly steps closer to the exit. He doesn’t want to leave, wants you to try to convince him to stay, not knowing that you knew the dirty secret he was hiding buried in his phone. 

You don’t decide to tell him you know, it was pointless. That was just how Jungkook was wired, so much love to give he had to spread it out, give everyone a fair share of it, choosing to pretend he wasn’t being selfish. It was naive to believe it, to think all the love he held was strictly for you, it was why he was able to pull the hood over your eyes so easily. 

Even when you pull the door open and give him a tightlipped smile he knows you’ll still call him, forget all about Natalie when you’re lonely once more. So when you look him in the eyes and sigh, “Goodbye Jungkook.” He knows it’s not for long, maybe a week or so, maybe less. 

He simply smiles, stuffing his hands into his jeans as he shuffles out, turning to face you as he steps backwards. “See you later Y/N.” And his words sting in a way he doesn’t mean, knowing just how right he was. 

Jungkook would never mind how heavy the anchor you hooked on his ankle was because he knew you would forever be a sucker for him. 

As you shut the door behind you it feels like a small weight starts to hang from your shoulders, the same tug starting from your chest, guiding you into your room until you’re pulling out the cursed box and sorting through those damned photos. With stinging eyes you flip through them for a moment, focusing on all the laughs captured on film, blurry vision moving to your phone beside you, hands already itching to call him again. 

It’s as if he knows, still inside your building, lingering in the lobby to give you a moment and it doesn’t take long. Once his phone starts to vibrate he smiles, staring at the photo of you as you call him like clockwork. With a clear of his throat he answers the phone, barely saying hello before he hears a small sniffle through the speaker. 

“I miss you Kookie.” 

Jungkook lets his eyes shut as he presses the elevator button, loving the feeling of being needed by you, already knowing to head back up because this was routine. 

“I know you do baby, I’ll be right up.”

And just like that you’re once again desperately trying to make those stupid puzzle pieces fit together, hoping that maybe this time love would be enough.

[ikeromantic]

Delicious (NSFW edition)

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfiction taking place at the end of Ch. 13 in the romantic route. Approx. 1700 words of Fluff and Spice! Some spoilers maybe?

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Tears of Joy

There were three things in this world Mitsuhide enjoyed above all else. One of them was a hot bath, and one of them was teasing his little mouse. To have both in one place at the same time was decadent.

Right this moment, his little one was sinking into the hot water, her expression one of pure pleasure. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted, cheeks faintly pink. A sheen of sweat covered her brow from the steam. She looked . . . delicious.

Of course, she chose the moment he licked his lips to open her eyes. “Mitsuhide! You - you’re staring at me!” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Little one, I’ve seen you naked several times now. Why are you suddenly shy?”

“I - you - I feel like a real mouse about to be eaten up by a very happy cat.”

“Kitsune,” Mitsuhide corrected.

She blinked. “What?”

“About to be eaten by a very happy kitsune.”

She giggled. “Yes, I guess that.”

“You have such a beautiful smile, my love.” He watched her expression shift from laughter to charmed surprise.

“I don’t know what to say when you say things like that.” She touched her face, where the bruise still discolored her skin. “Especially right now.”

Mitsuhide shook his head. “Silly little mouse. As if such a fading mark makes you any less.” He shrugged off his clothes and let them pool at his feet.

Whatever she had been about to say was reduced to a sharp exhale at his sudden nudity. Her eyes went wide as she tried to fix her gaze on a point somewhere above his chest.

“Is there something wrong?”

“N-no! No, of course not! You’re. Just. Naked. All the way. Naked.” She swallowed.

Mitsuhide grinned. “I did plan to bathe with you this time . . .” He *might* have posed himself to best display his . . . attributes. “Should I wait until you finish instead?”

She licked her lips and shook her head. “I - you - just get in and quit teasing me!”

“What fun would that be, little mouse?” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled so wide his cheeks hurt. Perhaps never. He walked slowly to the edge of the tub, using his dancer’s grace to draw out the movement. It was worth every second to see the stain on her cheeks darken and the desire in her eyes grow.

He stepped into the wooden tub and sank down into the hot water. A little groan of pleasure escaped him as he felt the tension melt from his legs and back. “If there is a heaven, little mouse, this is in it.”

She smiled. “I wish I could introduce you to the baths in my time. And hot showers!”

“Mmm, perhaps one day. Your friend seemed to think these . . . warm-holes? Will come again.”

“Sasuke did say as much. I don’t know how sure he is though. I mean, what if we went to my time and got stuck? Or what if I went but it wouldn’t take you?” She chewed at her lip, anxious over all the possible things that could go wrong on such a trip.

It was too adorable, Mitsuhide thought, and put his arm around her. He pulled her next to him and placed a kiss on her head. “Don’t worry about things that are not problems. We have enough ahead of us.”

His little one laughed softly. “True enough. I’m sure Nobunaga and Hideyoshi will have plenty to say when we get home.”

“Yes, those two for certain. But I don’t want to talk about them tonight. Tonight . . . there is only you, and I.” Mitsuhide ran his hand down her back, glorying in her soft skin, and the way she leaned into his touch.

“Oh? Are we going to talk about us?” She batted her eyelashes at him.

He nodded. “We will. But first-” He settled his hands on her hips and lifted her around to sit in front of him. “Let’s enjoy our bath.” He cupped water in his hands and poured it over her hair, running his fingers through it. “I will start with the top of you, and work all the way to the bottom.”

She looked at him over her shoulder, smiling her little, wicked smile. “The bottom, hm?” And then she wiggled against him.

Mitsuhide couldn’t have held back the groan that burst from his lips, or the sharp intake of breath that followed. He’d been hard when he got into the bath, but now he felt as if he might burst. The sensation of her naked skin rubbing his cock was like fuel to his flame. And she knew it. She was smiling more widely now, fully aware of the effect she had on him.

“Oh . . . little one . . . you will pay for that,” he breathed.

“Looking forward to it,” she replied, spoiling the bravado a bit by swallowing nervously after.

Though it was sheer torment to keep her pressed against him, Mitsuhide held her there as he first rinsed her hair. Then he rubbed her skin with fragrant herbs, gently removing the dust of their travel.

It was hard enough to wash her back, but when he turned her around, she used the moment to wrap her legs around his waist. Positioning herself deliciously atop his erection. He ached to be inside her, and wondered if his little mouse had any idea how much self control it took him not to simply . . .

She was laughing softly. Her eyes were merry and her smile was brilliant.

“Wicked little mouse. If I were any other man -” he growled low in his throat, letting his frustration show.

She leaned forward until her nipples brushed the skin of his chest. “Mitsuhide. I want you. You don’t need to hold back with me.”

And then he was kissing her. It wasn’t what he’d planned. Wasn’t the seduction he’d wanted to perform, but gods . . . she tasted so sweet. And she felt like silk. Her slick, warm fingers stroked his chest, his hip. Curled around his shaft. He thought he would die from the pleasure of it as she slid her hand slowly up, and then down again. His body shuddered against her.

Two could play at that though. If she wanted to bring him to the brink . . . He grabbed her breast in one hand, teasing the nipple with his fingers. His other hand slid down between her legs. He could feel how much she wanted him just by the heat from her.

The sound she made when he stroked her sweet pearl was half-gasp, half moan. He smiled, watching the way she trembled as he slid the pad of his thumb over her cleft again. Not that it helped his own situation. Touching her was torture. Like the sound of dripping water when you were mad with thirst.

She gave a raw cry of pleasure as he slipped his fingers inside of her, clenching tight on him as if she would hold him there. “M-my god . . . M-mitsu . . . hide - I - I -”

He might have said something then, taunted her a little, but she stroked him again, and whatever words he had were lost. He wanted to bury himself in her, to make her cry his name until she was hoarse from it. His fingers slid into her again and again, but it wasn’t enough for either of them.

Gasping, he moved his hands to her hips and pulled her into position atop him.

“Ah-haha,” she gave a panting laugh. “Y-you d-didn’t beg me. Yet.” And then his little mouse - no! His little vixen - rubbed his cock between her legs, pressing him tight enough that he could feel her clench as if to pull him inside. She moaned as his shaft rubbed the hard pebble of her clit.

It was enough to drive him mad. This game she was playing . . . she wanted him to beg. Then for her, he would. “Please.” The word purred from his throat. “Please . . .” Low and hoarse and desperate.

She rose up, and then sank down onto his shaft. Her body shuddered and she let out a piercing cry of pleasure that went higher the deeper he went.

Mitsuhide was a proud man. He would have liked to draw this first time out - to ride her to completion several times before he found his own satisfaction. But the feel of her climaxing against him, the sound of her, the sight of her breasts . . . it was too much. After months of teasing himself with her, and taking no other woman to his bed, he couldn’t hold back.

“I love you,” she gasped, her hips rising and falling as she rode him.

He pulled her down to his lips, kissing her until their tremors subsided. “I love you too, little one,” he said when he could speak again. He felt so relaxed that he didn’t want to move. Not an inch. He liked having her perched on him, impaled. Her naked breasts floating in the hot water, brushing his chest. Her cheeks flushed. Her eyes on him, and only him.

“We waited way too long for this. Just. Mmmmm . . .” She smiled.

Mitsuhide stroked her cheek. “I wanted to wait. I wanted to be sure that . . . that you wanted this. Me.”

She shook her head. “You have no idea how sure I am.”

“I think I might,” he smiled. Then his expression turned serious. “When we get back to Azuchi, I plan to ask Nobunaga for the right to marry you. I will make you my wife. Officially. In name and title . . . if . . . if you are willing.”

“Are you asking me to marry you, Mitsuhide Akechi?” She wiggled her hips, which made him gasp involuntarily.

“I am.”

“Then yes. If you promise me we’ll make love like this every night.”

Mitsuhide kissed the tip of her nose. “I can’t promise you that.”

“What? Why not?”

He grinned. “Because I plan to make love to you in a thousand inventive ways. I plan to tease you until you beg for release. To pleasure you as an art form. One that I will master. This . . . tonight . . . this was only a beginning.”

“Mmmm, I think our beginning isn’t quite over,” she smiled. And she was right. He was ready for her again.

That night he began an intense study of this new art form. After the bath, they moved to the bench, then the desk and the wall, and finally . . .the futon. Spent, they fell asleep in each other’s arms just as the light of morning began to peek through the window. It wasn’t near enough to wake the exhausted lovers.

Next: Hero's Welcome

[anakinisvaderisanakin]

Binary Sunset (AU post RotS, Beru Lars gets an unexpected visit and has to make a tough choice regarding her nephew)

“Who are you?”

Beru reared back, attempting to put as much distance as possible between herself whomever this thing was, staring her down with cold dead eyes.

“I have come for my son,” the figure said, its voice deep and monotone and distinctly male.

Glancing behind herself into the sleeping quarters of the homestead, she saw that the infant child was still asleep in his cradle. She made sure not to give away his location, but when she turned her attention back to the intruder, her heart was already sinking. He had not moved. In fact, he might have been taken for a statue, had it not been for the loud wheezing breaths of a respiratory device of some kind. The man bore a cape, as black as the uniform full body suit and armour covering him. It danced in the twilight wind, as the two suns glowed behind him like red orbs. Their intense heat seemed insignificant, compared to the burning hatred Beru could feel from the man’s covered eyes.

“I don’t know your son.”

“Is that so.”

His mask gave nothing away, stoic, resembling a human skull. His words seemed a statement, rather than a question, as if he was making a mental note of her defensiveness. Tall, broad shouldered, menacing. Beru hoped she came off as genuine, but when he took a step towards her, she felt the primal urge to run inside, grab the child and flee.

“There is a child in your sleeping quarters,” said the man, after a long, chilling silence despite the sunlight still spilling in orange hues over the sand dunes. “He is not yours.”

“He is!” Beru heard herself growl, shocked by how possessive she had become of the little one in such a short span of time. “He is mine!”

“He is not. You may have taken him in as next of kin, but he is not yours to claim.”

Beru clenched her jaw, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder at the cradle. He was still blissfully unaware, swept in a soft duvet as he cooed in his sleep. Even over the persisting hissing of the intruder’s breathing, she focused on the child. 

Luke. Precious little Luke, destined for so much more than life as a poor moisture farmer. Face set hard, Beru made sure to place herself in the middle of the doorway, just outside the threshold. She would not back down, whatever that decision would entail. The ex-Jedi who had delivered him might have grander plans, plans this stranger might be involved with, but she wanted the boy safe. On Tatooine, if he was taught to fend for himself, to steer clear of Jawas, Tusken raiders and womp rats, he might become an ordinary young man some day. Without the mystical sorcery his father had fallen prey to luring him in.

“He is mine. We have adopted him, we are his only living relatives. He has no one else.”

Beru hoped she sounded genuine to the menace, hoped she was appealing to some sort of sympathy or compassion behind the threatening visage. When he spoke, his tone was even deeper than before, a rumble rivalling that of any fully grown krayt dragon.

“Do not lie to me,” he warned, and moved so suddenly Beru couldn’t help but gasp in mixed horror and startlement.

But all he did was raise one arm, letting the open palm hover midair, facing the woman’s face. She blinked, confusion seeping in - and then her head exploded from within. She flinched, as a sharp pain ground its way into her temples. The ache travelled down her spine, a loud ringing in her ears overpowering any senses as her vision went bright white - shutting out both the mysterious visitor and the binary sunset. She whimpered, her own hands flying up to cover her ears. She wanted to scream, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes as she thought what felt like an ice pick being drilled right through her brain. 

And then, it was gone. As if it had never been there to begin with. Unable to control her sobs, her legs gave out beneath her and she sank to the ground. She panted, terrified of the man before her, of the agonizing headache returning. She could not explain it, but there was no doubt in her mind that the two were connected. The stranger had hurt her without laying a finger on her, if he was able to do that, what else was he capable of? If she had been wary before, now she was terrified.

“I - I am… not lying,” she managed to whisper, voice hoarse and unsteady.

“No. You are not.”

Surprisingly, the man agreed as he let his hand fall to his side. A wave of relief washed over Beru, but she was not prepared to build her hopes up that he may show her mercy and leave her and Luke alone. Luke needed to stay here, for his own safety. The Jedi had promised her he would keep them safe, and she had promised to love Luke as her own son. That meant defending him as if he were.

“You are not lying. You know only what Kenobi has taught you.”

Beru wiped her face with her sleeve as best she could, hoisting herself into an upright position with one hand pressed to the clay wall by her side. She clung to it for support, but through her watery eyes she saw that the stranger seemed more resolute, his stance more determined. She trembled, but stood her ground.

“I won’t speak of it. Not to you. Not to anyone. He warned us of strangers.”

“Kenobi is a liar and a traitor to the Empire, as are all Jedi. Would it be beneath an attempted murderer to lie?”

The stranger’s voice bore the same, mechanical character but it was sharper now, like a bark. Beru felt the hatred from before had returned, but didn’t seem to be directed at her. The way the man said ‘Kenobi’ revealed everything about whom the loathing was aimed at.

“I don’t understand,” the woman shook her head, cold sweat still soaking her forehead and she wiped her brow with her sleeve. 

“He told you the child has no living relatives, did he not?”

Beru’s eyes widened, before suspicion crept back in. She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat, willing herself to restrain herself from shedding any more tears. Even though she was still breathless, still shivering, still afraid.

“I never said it was him,” she settled for, as her retort.

“I am warning you to play along, or I may need to apply different methods to assure your complacency,” was the reply, and the man raised his hand again.

The threat was enough, and Beru shook her head vehemently, arms coming up to shield herself from another head splitting, intrusive mental assault. What she had assumed before was true, he had been controlling whatever power had tormented her senses. How? Why? Nothing made sense, but she believed him and that was enough.

“You are wiser than most. Fetch the child.”

“What?” the woman croaked, all the blood draining from her face as the intent behind the demand hit her.

“Fetch. The. Child,” he repeated, this time using his raised arm to point his finger at the doorway.

Only a sliver of pink and orange sunlight remained on the horizon. Owen wouldn’t be back in several hours. Beru hesitated, unwilling to comply, but found she could not resist. She could either obey, or protest and get herself killed. The stranger would take Luke away either way, she already knew that.

Stubborn tears welled back up in her eyes, blurring her vision as she slipped back into the primary living area of their homestead. Passing through another low doorway, she approached the cradle cautiously. She didn’t want to wake the child, didn't want to frighten him. Hushing him, or perhaps herself and her own soft sniffles, she picked the little bundle up. Beru made sure Luke was neatly wrapped in his duvet as she cradled him to her chest, rocking her arms gently when it seemed he might wake up. She breathed a sigh of relief when he settled back down, cooing and letting out a soft snore. Swallowing hard, Beru kept her head low and kept her gaze steady on the blonde tuft of hair on Luke’s head where it stuck out from underneath his pajamas. 

Not until she had crossed the threshold, relying solely on her periphery and memory, did she tear her eyes away from the infant. The intruder hadn’t moved an inch, the now chilly, crisp air biting at Beru’s tears streaked cheeks. When she spoke, her voice was soft but defiant.

“If you want him, you’ll have to go through me first.”

“It would be foolish of you to presume I wouldn’t,” he simply stated, his tone matter of fact.

“He’s my boy.”

Once again, Beru hoped he had a heart somewhere behind the exterior facade of menace. Beyond those strange, terrifying powers he had displayed. 

“He is not. The child belongs with his father,” said the man.

“The child’s father is dead. So is his mother. I and Owen are the only family he has left, he has no one else. He means nothing to you, whoever you are. He means the world to me.”

“Then, we have something in common,” stated the stranger, and it took Beru a tad too long to understand what he meant.

“I… don’t understand. I don’t understand any of this. Not Kenobi, not you,” she felt the weight of realization as something began to dawn on her, but refused to voice it and see it confirmed.

The man shifted then, stalking closer with a couple of long strides. As he moved closer, Beru tipped her head back, staring up at his frightening stature but unwilling to turn away, for fear of what he might do if she lost an ounce of focus. He seemed much more focused on the bundle in her arms, however, and she instinctively held the child closer to her body for protection. The man was huge, towering over her, looming like a hungering predator ready to strike. The lenses of the mask he wore were a deep, crimson red, she noticed now. The colour filled her with dread, entrancing as she watched him peer in what could have come across as stunned silence at the peacefully slumbering infant. One the man’s large, gloved hands came up to reach for the boy, and Beru almost yelped in fear.

But instead of harming Luke with just a look, Beru was shocked to see the man touch the infant’s chubby little cheek with an unearned, unexpected tenderness. It was just a simple, gentle graze of fingertips, and a smile pulled at the corners of the child’s lips. He was still asleep, but he cooed something intelligible, one tiny hand reaching for the stranger’s index finger. The stranger seemed cautious, and Beru almost believed he was concerned, maybe even scared of accidentally hurting the boy.

“Kenobi would rather have you believe the child’s parents had perished,” said the stranger, but his attention was still single handedly on the infant.

“Where else would they be? Kenobi told us the Jedi order had been executed, framed for high treason. He told us Anakin Skywalker died with the rest of his kind.”

“They were not framed, they were the instigators. But I am not here to discuss politics that may result in your immediate execution, and neither should you.”

The threatening note to the man’s voice was back, and Beru pinched her lips tightly together. She knew by now that Luke’s life had never been on the line, not given how carefully the stranger was interacting with the sleeping form. Her life, however, was still in mortal peril - and perhaps Owen’s was, too.

“The fact still stands,” Beru dared to say, bracing herself. “That Anakin is dead, and Luke has no one but us.”

“Luke…”

The name was said so gently, so softly that Beru almost thought she had imagined it. Despite the harsh diction, the flat delivery seemed so genuine and heart felt. Gaze darting between the intruder’s mask, and Luke’s pleased expression as the man let him close his little fist around his finger, the suspicion only grew stronger in its persistence.

“Yes. Luke. His mother named him before she died, Kenobi said. Unless that was another lie,” the woman trailed off.

“She did believe you were a boy,” mused the man, almost wistful as he seemed to be speaking directly to the small child.

Still, the words left an impression. A cold, gnawing sensation settled at the pit of Beru’s belly; clawing its way up into her chest cavity where it remained, desperately grinding from the inside as if attempting to force itself out. There was something eerie and uncanny about the stranger, something distinctly familiar. Familiar, yet foreign. Known, yet unknown. She peered down at the infant in her arms, the love she had developed for the little boy overpowering, overwhelming her. Then, she ignored the alarm bells at the back of her mind, the voices screaming at her to resist the urge. Instead, she slowly held the baby out in front of her, face set hard and throat tight as a lump settled at the base. The ball of tears rose, until her eyes were once more brimming with tears.

The stranger eyed her with what could only be perplexed confusion, as if he was in disbelief that she would entrust him with the child. She remained motionless, as he seemed to be weighing his options. Then, with stilted, jerky motions, he lifted both arms. He reached for the bundle, and with caution as if the boy was made of glass, as if he were so fragile he might break at the simplest touch, the stranger accepted him. The scene was ridiculous; a man looking like the reaper himself had come straight from a galactic battlefield while shielding the very icon of innocence in his grasp.

 “You said his Anakin isn’t dead. If he’s alive, then where is he?” Beru said, and the calm, collected manner in which she delivered those words surprised even her.

The stranger said nothing, but he did look at her. 

A long, pregnant silence fell as the darkness of night finally settled over the farm, and the Lars’ homestead. Beru wrapped her arms around herself for warmth, blinking back the tears pooling in her eyes. She had wanted him to say it, to verbally verify and confirm what she suspected. It was impossible to deny, as she studied the wonder and amazement with which the stranger regarded Luke. What surprised her most, though, was when he hid the child close against his chest, and held her gaze. She felt his stare burning into her soul, his presence no less imposing than it had been when he first appeared. 

Beru found she couldn’t speak. She had nothing to say, and even if she did, it would have made no difference. She understood, and took a step back as she nodded at him, encouraging him with a mournful smile. He was dangerous, that much she could tell. The stranger was vicious, ruthless, and cruel. But he held a tremendous fondness for this child, and in that, Beru could see herself. In that, Beru found the strength to acknowledge that the stranger was, in fact, no stranger at all. Even as he turned his back, cape billowing behind him while he began to trudge through the sand in a direction only he knew where it might lead, Beru was certain that the man would keep Luke safe.

As the man grew smaller in the distance, Beru allowed herself to weep again, watching her nephew disappear into the ice cold desert night. Still, something nagged at her compelled her to make a bargain in turn. Not that she had anything to offer, but she was convinced the man who was not a stranger would be inclined to agree.

“Promise me Luke will be safe with you!”

The intruder halted. Sand whirled around his boots, starlight bouncing off the man’s domed helmet as a gleaming beacon of hope in the darkness. She sensed an odd, reluctant sort of foreboding but stood her ground. He did not speak, but he didn’t have to. She knew the answer and she knew he would not have come this far if he didn’t have the intention to keep the boy out of harm’s way. She didn’t know the man well, never had, but she knew Luke. Shutting her eyes, Beru accepted the silence as the confirmation she had been looking for. She had been left alive, living to tell the tale. She knew he had come to kill her, she didn’t understand how, but somehow it was clear. Somehow, Luke would be okay. The man needed the infant, more than the infant needed him. It was the next right thing to do.

“Thank you, Anakin.”

Beru couldn’t be certain, but something told her Luke had a better chance at the kind of life he was meant for in the hands of his father.

-----------

You all knew where this was going, haha. I did intend to post this as another installment of Mask of Death but I’m not sure I should throw a non-canon compliant chapter in there as all others have been as compliant as fanfics can be. Let me know whether I should make an exception for this one or not!

I’m a sucker for dad!Vader and baby!Luke.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Slender Brothers x Reader || Imagine

One day the Slender Brothers each turn to stone (In separate places- separate countries even) and not even Zalgo can figure out why or how to unfreeze them.

Slender's in the forest, moss and different vines growing over his shoulders and twisting around the seamless, smooth (Too seamless, and too smooth, to be man made) stone of his tentacles. His Proxies are still there, protecting the place, but they cant get everyone- pictures have been taken of the mysterious forest statue and posted online, and he's become an urban legend (in a world where he wasn't already obviously). He makes a beautiful statue... but eerie as hell. He has been graffitied a couple times over the years but those who dared to do such a thing quickly got viciously but down by the formerly mentioned Proxies, who then spend hours and hours cleaning him up again. They don't know what else to do. What can they do?

Splender is sitting wait at Offender's place (A townhouse in New York), having been there to talk to him about something important but got frozen before his brother could even get home- he now gathers dust, one leg stuck draped gracefully over the other and his long thin fingers previously edging towards a (now room temperature, ruined) cup of tea. At times, he's heated up by strips of sunlight coming from the window blinds (which remain closed all these years- Splender didn't want to give Offender any heads up that he was there lest the fucker skip town immediately like he did sometimes when he just wasn't in the mood for lectures, or 'chats'), and others he's blanketed in the cold, grey darkness of a home that was never really 'home', to anyone.

Off in a not-often visited glade somewhere in Scotland's highlands is Trender, curled up in the grass and the dirt and the daisies, facing a beautiful, imposing mountain- sketchbook still rested against his legs and pencil between his fingers. The pages have been weathered and now curl inwards but if you ever found him, which is unlikely, you could still see some faint pencil lines on the first page. Rain, lightning, snow, hail, sweltering heat, wind and a number of other natural beatings have hit him but he continues to sit there, peaceful and relaxed looking and utterly unchanged.

Offender now lives in the back of some alleyway in Melbourne. He looks like a gargoyle, all shoulders and sharp teeth. People have tried to break him, and have covered him in years and years of multicoloured spray paint that now just looks brown but he does not break. He does not shift. He stays, leaning against the wall by a couple of bins, the menacing, perfect, sharp lines of his coat and his teeth still clear as the day he was frozen. His smirk is still a warning despite his helpless state; Women who see him assume that he's a sign without a label, a bit of street art telling them to get outta the fucking alley if you want to live. You get a cold, tight feeling in your chest just looking at him.

Then, decades later, one by one... they wake up. First Trender, then Slender a month later, Offender 2 years after that and finally Splender, a good half a decade after Offender. No rhyme or reason to it, seemingly. No one had found them at that particular moment, Zalgo had given up trying to figure this out years ago, Slender's Proxies had died...

They wake up, but they wake up... different. Parts of them are still stone. Both Slender and Splender have a hand that's still totally made of stone, stuck in the position it was last in, Offenders legs is stuck entirely too straight (So he walks like a pirate), and Trender's chest is still and makes it hard for him to bend or twist.

Still, they go on with their lives. Mystified entirely as to why they lost decades of their lives and now they still weren't allowed to completely recover, but still- eager to move on with their lives.

18 years after he woke up, Trender meets someone called Y/N Who could not be older then 18 years old themselves. Not that Trender considers that at all at first and his chest suddenly... softens, again, finally. The stone cracks and crumbles away, turning to nothing but warm air before it can even slip off him. His skin and muscle is sitting right behind, like it was always there. He takes some deep breathes and clutches his chest, experiencing the long forgotten feel of it, hidden behind the sweater he's wearing (which it had been for years and years, since turning to stone), rising and falling once again...

It wasn't until weeks later that he thought to link some things... and asked Y/N when their birthday is.

Casually, they recite the date that Trender was brought back to life.

The same thing happens of course to the other three. They meet their Y/N 18 years after coming back to life and fond out that they were born that very day. Like someone, or something, some inexplicable force stopped their ageing until the person they were supposed to be with came into existance.

Basically, Soulmate AU with room for Brother angst (and fluff) in between.

Its a work in progress.

Some dot points to add:

Having Trender be the first to wake up was a a very conscious choice XD- Allows him to be the main brother for a while. I cant skip out on giving him some prime time.

And having Splender be the last is important too, as it means a n g s t. His three brothers are awake and they're wondering where the fuck their brother is (Splender would have found us if he was awake. Where is he), until Offender finally wakes up and goes home... and him. And he, (Offender), the least loving and most disgusting of them gets to find his brother (one of the only things he gives even the most miniscule damn about) sitting grey and made of stone, alone at his breakfast table. Waiting for him. But even now that he's finally home, his brother cant wake up and and greet him. Cant be happy his wait is over. No. Offender gets to sit there at the table with him instead, in his own house, and wonder what the hell Splender wanted to talk to him about. And how long it'll be before Splender wakes up again.

Obviously, Slender doesn't come to the 'soulmate' conclusion without some help. He's very uncomfortable and suspicious about, first the person Trender found, and then his own. So you're telling me, this person was born on the same day we were brought back to life? And just meeting them made your stone cracks away finally? And you don't think this is truly coincidental, and actually quite suspicious at all???

I really like that Offenders gonna walk around like a pirate for 18 years. Don't mind me XD

Yes, they all get shat on by many animals. Except Splender.

[lustbile]

Hunt

Vampire! TaeyongxReader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: dom!taeyong, sub!reader. oral, biting, blood and slight cnc and degradation

Requested

Nct Masterlists

Multi group Masterlist

—

—

—

Your breathing is shallow and your eyes flutter open and closed as the cold of the room wraps around your almost naked body. The cool cement of the floor and the metal of the handcuffs that hold your hands tightly behind your back bites into your skin. All you can do is lay there, stuck in your own thoughts and shifting your legs around, as the seconds tick by slowly as you await the inevitable.

It’s not the first time you’ve found yourself in this position, your entire body laid flat on the floor of some random room, your shoulders aching from the weird angle the handcuffs force on you. Your entire body is bare aside from a thin pair of underwear.

Of course the first time it happened you panicked. You almost even got to the point of hyperventilating, but thankfully the first time he was more conscious of the shock you’d be experiencing.

But after it happened a few times, and you had learned just how well nights like this would end, you had come to learn just how nice it is to wake up alone in a dark room.

It was somewhere between 20 minutes to an hour when you heard the first hint of movement around you, the heel of his shoe scuffing against the cement of the floor so far into the dark you couldn’t even make out his silhouette.

“Taeyong?” you call out in a curious tone as if it could be anyone else in the world. The lack of response wasn’t surprising, but you just call out again using the same broken tone that you know makes whatever that pumps through his cold dead veins burn.

—

Taeyong seemed like just a sweet and normal guy when you first met him, and even now you’d argue that he truly is, and he just has his quirks.

You didn’t consider the time of night that you met him, you were out partying late into the night anyways so you just assumed he was doing the same. And he was just so cute, his soft smile and his dark eyes made your heart thud in your chest, and the way he grinned at you when this happened just made you think that it was probably fate.

Yeah you thought it was a bit weird when your dates only happened after the sun had disappeared, but you wrote it off as him being a night owl similarly to yourself. That was also the excuse you gave when your friend casually mentioned how he always looked a bit washed out and sickly. ‘Dude I just don’t think he gets a lot of sun,’ you had argued, and you weren’t technically wrong.

And he was such a gentleman, and so attentive and kind, that you were more than willing to just ignore his unusual characteristics, but the sex didn’t hurt when it came to you keeping him around.

His stamina was something you’ve never experienced in your life. His strong fingers always ready to explore your skin and his greedy mouth always following close behind. He had given you the strongest orgasm you’d ever had the first time his touched you, and seemed to one up himself every single time after.

You almost wished you were more shocked when he told you. His shaking hands and darting eyes made you nervous as all hell when he said he had something to tell you so many nights ago, but when the confession that he had died decades before finally left his trembling lips, it was like a huge weight lifted from your shoulders.

He almost seemed more shocked than you when you finally responded to his confession, a quiet sigh and a promise that him not being fully human didn’t change your attraction to him causing him to gawk and ask you more than a few times if you were absolutely sure. And after you shut him up with your mouth pressing against his and trailing down until it was wrapped around his length, he finally believed that you were in for the long run.

Your ready acceptance for something that always plagued the way he lived, was probably what made it easier for him to confess to you something else that was odd about him. And thankfully for him, you were just as willing to accept this new curve ball.

He liked the feeling of a hunt.

It wasn’t something he was actively proud of, he knew it was something animalistic and deep down inside him that developed sometime after the bite that turned him. His need to find prey to survive crossing with his hunger for a companion and sexual release, and giving him this clawed animal that lived in his gut and made him salivate the first time he saw you.

The way your heart fluttered and your eyes widened, he could hear the sweet blood rushing through your veins and it made his brain wild. You could barely believe that that was the way he had seen you when you first met considering how charming he was, but he swore that that night was the exact moment that he learned he needed you in his life and between his teeth no matter what.

He never gave specifics of what he wanted to do to you, you had developed enough of a trust within him that you didn’t feel like you needed the details. This fact only made him moon over you even more, as the element of surprise and shock would only get him more excited.

So yes the first time he did it, you were shocked, and until he revealed he was the one behind it you would admit you were more than a bit scared. But now that it's become a more regular thing, the only thing that made your heart slam against your chest was the anticipation for what he was going to do to you.

—

You called out his name one last time before he reacted.

The quiet ‘shhh’ he lets out from his spot in the corner of the room is the only thing he needs to do to make your muscles relax. Your shoulders sink to the floor and you begin to kick your feet behind you as you try to get ready for the real fun of the night to begin.

The heels of his shoes drag against the floor as he gets closer, the way you lay flat stopping you from seeing face as he walks up to you from behind. The only indication you get that he’s coming anywhere near you is the silence of the room that amplifies every minute sound he makes.

“Look at what trouble you’ve gotten yourself into,” his tone is nothing but taunting as he starts to circle your body, his cold words and how small he makes you feel as his eyes rake down your back makes you tremble against the cold floor and let out a small huff of air.

“Pretty thing like you should have never gotten involved with a monster like me huh baby?”

You can hear the slight ting of sincerity in his voice when he speaks, but the idea of consoling him and telling him he’s wrong is completely wiped from your mind at the next thing he does.

He’s stood between your still twitching legs when he finishes speaking, the term of endearment that he calls you so naturally is punctuated with him pressing his foot firmly on the space between your thighs, the tip of his perfectly shined shoe pressing into the dampened spot on your underwear and pulling a desperate whine from your lips.

“Crumble at any slight touch I give you, no wonder you keep running back to me,” he only presses harder as he speaks, pushing the front sole of the shoe up and down to cause just enough pleasure and small bites of pain that you start to tremble and pant.

He loves the way you start to break from just the smallest things right in front of his hungry eyes, but it’s when he notices you pushing back against his shoe and your fingers frantically curling and uncurling where they’re pressed against your lower back does he feel just the smallest spark of sympathy.

“Don’t even care that you’re so powerless in an empty room do you? As long as you get even the smallest amount of attention that’s all you’re worried about?”

He gives one last harsh push against your warm, sensitive skin, reveling in the cry you let out, before he slowly sinks down onto his knees behind you.

“Look at you, you poor sweet thing,” his cold hands wrap around both of your shaking thighs, his slender fingers digging into the skin strong enough to make the bruises that make his mouth water bloom.

The low temperature of his fingers and palms and the scratching of his bitten nails as they trail up your thighs and over the curve of your ass makes a shiver run up your spine, and the way he grabs onto your jittering hips to harshly tug you closer to him makes you gasp.

His lips are chapped and his tongue is soft when they land on the space between your shoulder blades, and your shoulders shift up towards your ears to the best of their ability with your hands still trapped together. It’s with the feeling of his saliva dripping on your bare skin and his elongated canines scraping against you as he moves down the curve of your spine, do you find your voice again.

“Please,” it’s soft and broken when it leaves your lips, the only word your muddled mind can conjure in the moment, the devilish smile he suppresses against your tailbone being a weak push for you to continue, “touch me, use me.”

“Dirty thing, I’ve ruined your mind haven’t I?” he sounds nothing but proud of himself when he speaks, any shame of the situation finally melting from his mind at the way you so easily settle into the personas he’s created.

You let out a quiet sigh of relief when you feel his lips mouthing at the skin of your hip as he pulls the band of your underwear between his teeth, the angle finally allowing you to grab onto a handful of his hair, just enough contact to his form to pacify you for the time being.

He’s not in control of the small growl he lets out as his sharp teeth begin to poke through the flimsy fabric, nor is he in control of the much louder growl that rips from him when he starts to shred it until it falls limply away from your body.

The room feels many degrees cooler now that you lay fully bare in front of him, aside from the few scraps of fabric that desperately hold to your skin as they became dampened from his saliva. You’re now capable of feeling just how excited you’ve become from the series of events when you shift your legs, though your movements are limited as he still holds onto you tightly.

“If there’s one thing I like tasting more than your blood,” he sounds dreamy as he mutters to himself with his eyes locked between your thighs, your body shifting and a grumbling whine following as you feel embarrassment flood your system, but he only laughs meanly in response.

His hands return to your thighs, and his thumbs move to pull at your skin to open you more for his greedy eyes. He takes a moment of appreciation, he always does when you’re like this, your body his favorite sight to lose himself to as he sees you as nothing but an otherworldly creature laid out in front of him like a meal.

There’s no verbal warning, only a shifting sound from his clothes as he leans closer and his tongue is dipping into you. The strength of the muscle always throws you off, and this time is no different. The way it pushes and moves against the nerves inside you has you gasping for the cold dry air around you, and your brow furrows above your tightly closed eyes.

Your thighs tremble as the sparks of pleasure makes you rise onto your knees just slightly, his relentless mouth following your motions as another animalistic growl vibrates against your skin. You can’t even process the discomfort you feel as your face presses more into the floor below you, as he takes advantage of his tongue slipping from you to flatten it against you and curling the tip of it to dig into your swelling clit.

The sounds that spill from your lips only return to you as the bounce off the walls of the hallow room, Taeyong happily swimming in the sounds of your pleasure as he drinks from you like he hadn’t had a single sip of water in the dozens of decades he’s lived.

He knows when you’ve begun to chew at your bottom lip, a fact that’s only vaguely disappointing as it muffles your sounds, but he finds the silver lining almost immediately as the pleasure he inflicts on you causes you to bite down hard enough to draw blood.

The moment the smell of the metallic liquid hits his nostrils, he feels himself losing the grip he has on his self control. The amount that bleeds from the minuscule cuts is so small, but even with his face buried between your thighs he can smell it so strongly as if he’s walked into a blood bank. Just the memory of the taste of it dancing on the back of his tongue makes him feel as if he is suddenly starving, and before he can even think, he’s pulling your clit between his lips and sucking harshly.

He moves with your erratic hips as if he can read the mind you’ve lost control of the moment he touched you, his tongue and teeth a level of unrelenting that has tears welling up in your rolling eyes.

Your hands fold into tight fists at the feeling of a promised orgasm biting at your lower belly, your arms flexing and shaking enough that he’s surprised you don’t build enough strength to break the handcuffs where they connect.

He only laughs at your weakening body as your lower legs start to kick out, your tightly curls toes bumping into his ribs as you release your lip and cry out into the room. He knows you’ve started to come, the way your body starts to slump in his hands and your hands begin to grasp at air again lets him know he’s gotten you in his favorite state of delirious pleasure and he has no interest in letting up.

He feeds off your yelps and cries almost similarly to the way he would your blood as he returns to lapping at your skin, soft hums of appreciation rattling his hollow chest as the taste of your orgasm coats his tongue.

He takes the moment of you being distracted by the overstimulation you receive from his tongue to work at his belt with one hand. His nibble fingers are perfectly capable of helping him multitask, as he uses his other hand to tangle with your bound hands and hold you against his tongue as your body tries to curl away.

You foolishly huff out in relief when he moves away from you and sits up, your knees shifting again as you try to make yourself more comfortable with your legs that have been reduced to jelly. You even let your back dip and stretch as his hands trail up your sides and his thumbs dig into your spine, but you only get a few stolen seconds of relief before your breath is knocked from you again.

You’re thankful for how sloppy he can be when he works you over with his tongue, the amounts of spit and come he leaves behind on and in you becoming a blessing when suddenly pushing into you with one sharp thrust. The way you stretch around him and the length of him so sudden that it almost feels like he’s splitting you in two.

The groan you let out is gravely from the way your throat was torn from the sounds you made before, and you lose any control you have as your eyes flutter and roll in your skull.

You’re flat on your stomach again, the slow but harsh thrusts he begins to subject you to wracking your nerves with so much pleasure you want nothing more than to simply melt into it. The only motions your body makes is the natural rocking from his hips and your muscles twitching and spasming with a mind of their own.

He leans into you, a laugh that borders on evil licking at your ears as he drinks in the way you look like a limp and pretty rag doll beneath him, the way you whimper and moan and the feeling fluttering around him being the only response you can give to the way he pushes into you.

“Poor thing, did I wear you out already?” under any other circumstances, you would have scoffed at how cocky he sounded when he spoke, the lack of exhaustion in his voice feeling almost like a slap to the face, but you’re pulled from your wallowing in self pity when one of his hands wraps roughly around your neck and tugs until your scrambling to lean against his chest, “you’re lucky I like doing all the work.”

It’s almost shameful the gasp of giddy relief you let out when you feel the softness of his belly on your fingertips through the button down he wears, the feeling of his physical form pushing against neglected hands overwhelming regardless of how minimal it is.

You're pulled from your innocent feelings of relief abruptly when you feel his other hand begin to move as well. His hips continue to bump and move against you unrelentlessly, and his roaming fingers finally land on your still buzzing clit with ease.

He pushes between your thighs seemingly unaffected by the way you subconsciously hold them closed, the calloused pads of his middle and ring finger rolling against the bundle of nerves at such a rhythmic pace you can’t help but feel as if he’s playing you like an instrument.

His breath feels like ice as he pants into your ear, his teeth playfully nipping at the shell and your lobe every few thrusts making you jump and shiver. You few light headed and even a little loopy as he squeezes at the sides of your neck to play with the blood flow your brain receives, and even though you’re aware that in reality you sit in a small empty building in a location that is completely secret to you, you feel like you float in heaven in his arms.

You feel the tears that dance along your waterline finally become too heavy, and when he angles his hips to push into the one spot that makes stars dance behind your eyes, they stream down your cheeks and leave your skin stained.

You move without question when his thumb presses against your jaw, your face turning to face him with a dopey smile filling your face when you see his familiar face for the first time of the night. The smile falling into your jaw hanging softly open when his tongue presses under the curve of your jaw bone and moving up until it flicks at the space the socket of your eye dips, the salty taste of your tears making him hum in a way that makes you feel dirty and loved.

He doesn’t remove his mouth from your skin, but rather starts to plant slick kisses starting at the high point of your cheekbone and moving down until your head tilts away from him and he’s mouthing at the skin that protects your thudding jugular.

You already feel so dizzily close to a second orgasm from how many forms of stimulation he assaults your body with, that the knowledge of what he’s only seconds away from doing has your heart slamming against your chest.

You know he can hear it, just as much as he can smell your hot blood as it runs through the veins that burn beneath your skin, and all it does is push him closer to his finish as well. He scolds himself for all those nights he’s begged the universe for a cure for what he is, or at least even a represent that would give him more self control, because in moments like this with you, he can’t feel anything but an animalistic pride and pleasure coursing through his dead veins.

He swears the roots of his canines burn as they sink into your neck without any resistance, you skin all but opening itself to his razor like teeth and relinquishing your source of life.

It’s a chain reaction, it is every time he’s bitten you like this. The sharp pain and burning that shoot across your neck and his amazing ability to keep fucking you through such an intense moment finally pushes you over the edge, silent screams scratching at your throat and forcing you to completely depend on the hold he still has on your neck.

And the way you curve against him, your walls fluttering and squeezing against him as you come and your clingy hands grabbing at the fabric of his clothes, is almost enough to get him to his finish. But it’s the taste of your blood, the gushing deep red spreading across his tongue and slipping down into his belly, feeding him and his orgasm at once.

He can’t stop his hips from moving as he fills you up, and his fingers are just as bad when it comes to carrying you through the blinding finish. Regardless of his colder body, you always feel warm and pliable against him, his groans and wet noises he makes against your neck feeding you almost as much as you feed him.

There’s a few more harsh twitches, your body using the last of its energy to feel every second of your orgasm, before you both melt into the others form with labored breaths. His teeth moving away from the skin they’ve damaged, and his soft tongue lapping at the skin and wounds until the bleeding stops.

It’s a still quiet as he pulls out of you and starts rearranging your worn form. Your skin screams in relief when the handcuffs are the first things to go, your hands unsurprisingly moving immediately to touch some form of his skin. Next his lips catch yours in a loving kiss, a feeling he knows you miss more than anything in moments like this, and he can’t help but the warm feeling he gets when you happily moan at the taste of your own body on his tongue, a intoxicating combination of your orgasm, tears, and blood weirdly tasting like home on his tongue.

In your obsession with his lips and tongue, he’s stood slowly, using his strength to bring your wobbly limbs and body with him. A hum of concern rumbling in his chest against you when you squeak at the slight pain.

“I’ve bruised you all up my little peach,” he speaks in a new tone that makes him feel like a completely different man in front of you, and you can’t help but curl around him and melt into the loving attention, “and you’re much too pretty to be in a dirty place like this, let’s get you home my little doll.”

[miyuwuki]

Can we get adult: mei and kazuya reacting to a s/o who is clingy when sleeping ? Like the boys are peacefully sleeping but they suddenly woke up with a heavy weight in their chest. They thought they are having sleeping paralysis (which is a scary experience. Like you are 100% awake but you can't move at all. Sometimes you can't breath well because you feel heavy weight on your chest 😭) but it turns out that weight belongs to their s/o who is 90% sleeping on top of them .. comfortably 😂. Bonus points if they are also a sleeping fighter 😂. Like they kick sometimes or throw some punch😂. For some reason i think mei sleeps like that. Moves around alot or sleeps like a star fish, at least when he was younger. 😂🖤

nah cus this is the cutest submission i’m so excited to write this!

warnings: mentions of sleep paralysis

adult!miyuki kazuya x reader, adult!narumiya mei x reader

heavy sleeper

miyuki kazuya:

shit, i can’t breathe.

miyuki stayed still, fearing to open his eyes of what could possibly be on top of him. he’s had his fair share of sleep paralysis in the past due to his unhealthy sleeping schedule back in high school—waking up bright and early to practice and staying out into the inhuman hours of the night. he knew what it felt like to not have control over your body and feel like you were buried under a thousand bricks; and even sometimes, see shadowy figures and paranormal things. but all of that went away once he met you. your presence throughout the night has helped him get better sleep, and ever since then he had no problems with sleep paralysis.

which left him frightened, because if it came back with you next to him, what will make it go away?

it’s getting hard to breathe, he thought, his breaths starting to stagger. he tried moving his fingers and toes— a technique he used whenever he knew he was caught in sleep paralysis— but they moved perfectly fine. he had full control of his body, which made him confused of what could be pressuring him down like this. y/n’s still here, right?

without any second thoughts, miyuki opened his eyes, preparing himself to see whatever demon was messing with him. but to his surprise,

that demon was you.

half of your body was on top of miyuki’s, your chest against his and your face planted in the pillow beside miyuki. your arms were spread across his body and your legs were tangled with his. from an outsider’s perspective, it looked like those twisted cookies, or even a knot in a shoelace. miyuki laughed, partially at you, but mostly at himself, feeling idiotic to think that he would ever get sleep paralysis again with you by his side. 

“y/n, you’re on top of me, i can’t breathe,” he whispered, slowly patting your head. you gripped onto him tighter, not waking up. he didn’t want to wake you up— you looked so peaceful and vulnerable, and so stupidly comfortable; so instead, miyuki sighed and placed gentle kiss on top of your head.

“i guess you can stay like this if you want, dummy.” he softly pulled your whole body on top of him and wrapped his arms around your torso, reaching under your shirt (or his shirt) and rubbed small circles on your bare lower back. he felt more comfortable like this, and you sure did too, because you started snoring, letting out a couple “kazuya’s” in between. he let out a sigh of relief, finally able to breathe again, and stretched his arm over to the light stand to grab his phone. he went to the camera app and took a picture of you, just so he can have this moment forever.

“goodnight, y/n.” and with that, miyuki fell into a deep slumber, dummy happy with you in his arms.

that is, until you accidentally slapped him awake in the morning when you were stretching.

narumiya mei:

should i go pee, or not?

narumiya grumbled, stuck in the dilemma of whether or not he should go pee in the middle of the night when he was already so comfortable. he cursed at himself for getting such a nice bed with silky sheets and pillows, thinking that it were those things that was holding him back from peeing. they’re so fucking comfy! he thought.

he also didn’t want to wake you up; you haven’t been getting the best sleep lately since you just started your new job, and he wanted you to get a good amount of rest as you could. but damn did he need to release his bladder, and he needed to go quick or else his pee will go somewhere else other than the toilet.

as he was about to get up, he suddenly felt a huge weight on his chest, pushing him down firmly on the bed. narumiya froze, staying still for a moment before having an internal panic attack. he remembered back in inashiro when itsuki would tell him stories about sleep paralysis and the details that came along with it; how you couldn’t feel your own body, how sometimes you’d hear screeching or screaming, or worst of all, how you’d open your eyes to see a figure hovering over you. narumiya took it in as bullshit back then, but now, he’s regretting that he ever underestimated itsuki. 

his breathing started to uneven, making it harder and harder to inhale and exhale each time. the only thing he could feel is his bladder, and if he didn’t make it to the washroom soon, he would wet the bed— and that’s the last thing he wants. but then, he remembered another thing itsuki said about sleep paralysis,

mei-san, if you move your fingers or toes, you can get out of sleep paralysis! the moment you feel like you have control over your body is the minute you get out!

and so that’s what narumiya did; he wiggled his fingers and toes, hoping for the pressure to go away so he can get up and use the restroom. but he felt the control and felt it moving, so why can’t he get up?

all of a sudden, he felt a sharp pain in his eye and jerked his head up, bringing a hand to rub where it hurt.

“ouch!” he hissed, still rubbing it. is the demon trying to fight me? i’ll show it a piece of my damn mind! 

he opened his eyes, not to a demon but to you; your body was on half of his and your hand remained on his face. you were the pressure that was on his chest. you were the one who poked his eye. and for this, narumiya woke you up.

“y/n,” he said, softly shaking you, “you poked my eye.”

your eyes fluttered open, your surroundings hazy and clouded, “mei? what time is it?” you asked, stretching your arms wide. narumiya dodged the hand that ws about to hit him and whined, “you’re so heavy, y/n. and you poked my eye while you were sleeping. i need to pee so get off of me.” 

you looked at your position and laughed at him, rolling off, “oops, sorry mei. i was just having a really good sleep. you’re so comfy.” narumiya ears perked at this, smiling cunningly to the fact that he was the reason to your peaceful rest. he almost felt bad for waking you up from your slumber, but gosh did he need to use the washroom. “i’m going to go pee and you can cuddle up against me when i come back, okay?” he said, getting up from the bed.

“i’ll be waiting.” you yawned, smiling at him.

EEEEE I HOPE YOU LIKED THIS, ANON! this was so fun to write, a lot of crack and fluff hehe. enjoy the rest of your day my love <3 thank you!

[hxwks-gf]

» 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖊

𝖑𝖊𝖛𝖎 𝖆𝖈𝖐𝖊𝖗𝖒𝖆𝖓 𝖝 𝖋𝖊𝖒!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚢. 𝚠𝚑𝚘'𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐?

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝, 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝚠𝚌: 𝟸.𝟼

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 & 𝚒𝚗𝚓𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐

That familiar stench of thick, viscous blood stretched far across the open field in which you stood, breathing heavily with your fingers gripped tightly around the hilts of your swords. They, along with half of your face, were stained red with it. 

You were so tired. Every muscle in your body ached with exhaustion. But no matter how many Titans you viciously cut down, more and more seemed to take their place. Fighting them in an open field put you and the rest of the squad at an enormous disadvantage, and now you were paying the price. 

You clicked the bottom triggers and listened to the empty space within the gas canister. You had maybe one or two good forward pushes before you were completely out. 

“Fuck,” you muttered, sheathing the swords and wiping the blood out of your eyes. Looking around, you could see no one else nearby. You were completely alone after you had been separated on your horse by a handful of Abnormals. And as soon as you had vaulted from your horse’s back to attack, it got in the way of the onslaught of Titans and was ultimately crushed beneath one of their enormous feet. 

Their blood had evaporated, leaving behind only your own from a wound at your hairline. Your eyes were getting heavier and heavier by the second, and the soft patch of grass underneath a lone tree nearby was suddenly calling your name. Dying in comfort didn’t seem like a bad way to go….at least it wasn’t getting eaten alive. 

But the sun was already setting, slashing the sky with vibrant reds, oranges, and purples. You couldn’t remember what phase the moon was in tonight; all you could do was pray it didn’t give too much light for the Titans to walk around after the sun disappeared. 

No food, no gas, no back-up. In the middle of Titan country. No matter how you looked at it, you were fucked. The fields stretched on and on as far as the eye could see—the rest of the squad could be miles and miles away by now, having absolutely no idea where you were. 

You decided to at least take a rest under the tree while you figured out how much longer you had left, and what you would do with that limited time. You leaned back against the trunk and stretched your legs out in front of you, watching the sun sink lower and lower behind the mountains that loomed in the distance. 

It was strangely beautiful, you thought to yourself as you rested your heavy head against the tree and stared at the sunset through half-lidded eyes. The winds whispered through the grass and brought with it the scent of the forest, extinguishing the putrid odor of Titan blood that had lingered behind. If these were your last moments on earth, you weren’t complaining too much. It was as close to peace you would ever get.

Movement out of the corner of your eye made you sit up abruptly, nostrils flaring with alert. 

“Shit,” you muttered, seeing the gangly limbs of a ten-meter ambling across the field. You could feel each of its footsteps reverberating through the earth. 

It was the only one you could see, and you could take it down easily enough. But that would use up the last of your precious gas and leave you truly helpless if a more pressing matter arose in the future. 

You tapped your finger against the trigger of your sword in thought, weighing your options. The Titan hadn’t seen you yet, but if you moved, it most definitely would. If you sat still for long enough it just might pass you without noticing. 

Decisions, decisions. 

What would Levi do? 

“Tch,” you scoffed, glaring toward the Titan. You knew Levi never would’ve gotten himself stuck in this situation to begin with. And you could already hear the earful he would give you if by some stroke of luck they found you alive. You’d be stuck scrubbing the floors for months. 

You raised your eyes to the sun that had sunk behind the mountains, casting the valley below into hues of dark blue and black. The moon was nowhere in sight. Could you have been fortunate enough to have a moonless night? 

The Titan in the distance still meandered about languidly as the last few remaining rays of the sun stretched over the mountains. Just a few minutes more and you would test Hange’s theory about the Titans’ inability to move without a light source. 

It was getting harder and harder to see with each passing second, and soon enough your vision of the wandering Titan became just a dark speck on the horizon. The air was still and quiet, save for the whispering breeze that ruffled your hair and your green cloak. As you slowly got to your feet, your eyes scanned your surroundings to the best of your human ability and saw that you were completely alone again. 

Trost was east of you. You wondered how far you would get before the sun rose again or you collapsed from exhaustion. The wound along your hairline had stopped bleeding, but it was giving you an excruciating headache. 

“Just get as far as you can,” you commanded yourself, leaving behind the comfort of your tree as you started walking east. Your footsteps were silenced by the soft grass. “Push as hard as you can, and we’ll figure out the rest from there.” 

You could hear Levi’s voice in your mind. “Don’t give up on me, cadet,” he’d say. “Come back to me.” 

“It’d be easier if you came to me,” you argued with his voice aloud as you picked your way across the open field. “You’re the one with the horse.” 

No one answered except the crickets chirping in the grass. The stars twinkled overhead, as if trying to keep you company while you walked on foot in the most dangerous part of the country—alone, with scarcely enough to defend yourself, and no food to give you energy. 

If you were fucked, at least your last thoughts would be about Levi. 

“There’s still no sign of her,” Jean called down from atop the abandoned farmhouse. “I can’t see anything without the moon.” 

Levi tried his best to keep himself under control. Goddammit, why did she have to be the one to get separated from the group? He looked up at Jean and nodded stiffly. “Keep looking.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

He paced the length of the farmhouse with his hands folded tightly behind his back. He had half a mind to go out and look for her himself, but Jean was right. Without the light of the moon, he wouldn’t be able to see much of anything. And he couldn’t risk overexerting his poor horse. 

Levi felt a hand on his shoulder. He closed his eyes and sighed, wishing he could tell the rest of his squad not to bother him until they had any useful information regarding [Y/N]’s whereabouts. 

“She’s resourceful,” Hange said softly, and Levi let his shoulders relax. “And she’s smart. Too smart for her own good, to be honest.” 

“I know we should have made for Trost hours ago,” Levi muttered, kicking a rock with his boot. “I’m putting everyone at risk for making us stay behind and look for her.” 

“We take risks every day. What’s one more?” 

“You’re the only one who knows why I took this risk.” He glanced over at them. “You’re the only one who knows what she means to me.”

Hange smiled knowingly and patted his shoulder. “We’ll find her, Levi. I know it.” 

You lost track of how many hours had passed, and you could no longer feel your feet. Your legs felt like jelly. You could barely see straight. At some point during the journey, your wound had split open and dripped fresh blood down your face. 

You were so tired. Every inch of your body ached. 

Come back to me. 

“I can’t!” you sobbed into the open air, feeling salty tears spill from your eyes and mix with the blood on your face. “I can’t do it!” 

As you cried out in anguish, your knees buckled with exhaustion and you fell to the ground with a pained grunt. The grass felt so soft against your cheeks as you pressed your face into it, sobbing uncontrollably into the dirt. Pretty soon the sun would rise again, and the Titans would wake to hear your cries. You knew for a fact you had no strength left to fight them. 

Come back to me.

You sniffled, wiping the snot and blood from your nose with your sleeve. Levi would be disgusted by the state of you, but the thought of his repulsion made you crack a smile.  

With some effort, you rose into a kneeling position and tilted your face towards the sky. You could hear birds beginning to chirp, and the glow from the rising sun in the distance slowly started to illuminate your surroundings. 

You closed your eyes and exhaled softly, feeling the cool morning air on your bloodied cheeks. Mornings have always been your favorite time of day. It was quiet, still and peaceful, before everyone else in the world had a chance to wake up. You wondered if this would be the last early morning you would ever get to see. 

You opened your eyes and looked forward again, expecting to see Titans milling about. But to your fortune, there were none in sight. 

But what was in sight was a cluster of old, abandoned houses. A village. 

Shelter. 

“Holy shit,” you breathed, struggling to get to your feet. It wasn’t Trost, but it might as well have been a chest of treasure waiting for you. There would be rations hidden somewhere, and maybe a bed to sleep on. Protection from Titans. Maybe you would live to see another day. 

Each step forward was agonizing, but you ground your teeth so hard you thought your jaw would fall off to keep yourself from faltering. A hundred yards. Fifty yards. Twenty—

“Captain!” you heard someone shout. You froze in your tracks and tried to find the source of the voice, and your eyes landed on a familiar face standing on top of the one of the houses. It was Jean. You had found them. 

He slid from the roof and landed not-so-gracefully in the grass, running full speed towards you. 

“Jean,” you said weakly, reaching out a hand to him. He caught you right before you could collapse to the ground again, hefting you up in his arms and carrying you towards the village. Your head lolled to the side and fell against his warm shoulder. You couldn’t stay awake any longer. The last thing you saw was the rest of the squad running towards Jean carrying you, but the only face you could focus on was Levi’s. 

Levi rescinded his normal post at the head of the squad to sit beside [Y/N] in one of the wagons as they began their journey back to Trost. He still couldn’t believe it. She had survived a night alone, with no food, barely enough gas for one launch, and blades that were one strike away from snapping. If she had been anyone else, she would be dead. 

The others had said nothing when he held her hand the entire time Hange stitched up the wound that had split open along her hairline. They said nothing when he ran his fingers along her jawline and over her parted lips as she slept. It was as if they had known the entire time. 

Levi watched [Y/N] carefully in the back of the wagon, his grey eyes never once leaving her face. She hadn’t woken up yet, not since she had passed out in Jean’s arms after he found her in the field. He was concerned her head injury had forced her to slip into a coma, but Hange dismissed it. 

He vowed that once [Y/N] awoke, he would tell her how he truly felt. 

White light filtered in through an unseen window, and you were certain you were dead. This was what came after. Eternal blankness. 

But pretty soon your surroundings came into clearer view. You were in an unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar bed. Sunlight was trickling through an open window nearby, and the sounds of a city spilled over the sill. 

You blinked your groggy eyes and groaned in pain. God, everything hurt. With a weak hand, you reached up and felt the coarse bandage that was wrapped around your forehead. 

You had survived. 

“You shouldn’t touch your bandages,” a voice said beside you. “You’ll get them dirty.” 

You slowly turned your head and focused on Levi sitting next to you, a book in his lap. The dark circles underneath his eyes were harsh against his skin, as if he hadn’t slept in days. 

“How long have I been asleep?” you croaked, wincing at your voice. 

“Two and a half days,” he replied, closing the book and setting it aside. 

“Shit,” you muttered. You shut your eyes and swallowed painfully. “I thought I had died.” 

He was quiet for a moment before scooting his chair closer to your bed. You cracked an eye open and watched his furrowed brow and concerned expression as he folded his hands atop the sheets. Something was bothering him. 

“What is it?” you asked.

Levi didn’t look at you, but his eyes narrowed while he studied his folded hands. “Everyone I’ve ever cared about has been lost,” he spoke, and you could hear the emotion hidden behind the words. The muscle in his jaw twitched. “But you—you’re the first one to come back.” 

You were stunned into silence and the only thing you found you could do was stare at him in shock. Levi...cared about you? “What are you talking about?” 

“I...I thought I had lost you,” he said tightly, still not meeting your eyes. “I was willing to force the entire squad to stay behind and look for you, even if it put them at risk. I couldn’t leave you behind, not knowing if you were alive or not. I just...couldn’t do it.” He looked up at you then, his face hardened with determination. “[Y/N], I can’t bring myself to say the words because I’m convinced I’ve been cursed and you’ll be taken away from me again if I do, but…” he trailed off and focused on his hands again. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” you said softly. “When I was out there, all alone and trying to find the strength and courage not to die in some forgotten field, you were the voice in my head telling me to get up and move. You told me to come back to you.” 

Levi’s jaw twitched again, and his dark hair fell into his eyes as he bowed his head to his folded hands. 

“And I did,” you murmured. “Because I knew you would kick my ass if I disobeyed an order.” 

A flicker of a smile passed across his face, so fleeting you almost missed it. He stood up and tenderly placed a hand on top of your head, ruffling your hair. His thumb stretched to gently caress your bandaged forehead as he watched you with those tired eyes. 

“I’ll be back soon,” he said, picking up his book. “Get some more rest.” 

You nodded and he turned towards the door. 

“Levi?” you found yourself saying. 

He glanced at you over his shoulder with his hand resting on the doorknob. “Yes?” 

Your lower lip trembled as you looked at him with glistening eyes. “You’re not going to make me scrub out the mess hall for being reckless, are you?” 

Levi arched an eyebrow. “We’ll find out.” 

Before you could sputter out an answer, he was already gone. You settled back against your pillow with a happy sigh and felt the exhaustion sneaking back into your bones. Another nap sounded nice. As you slowly closed your eyes and slipped away to the dreaming world, your last thoughts were of Levi. 

They would always be of Levi. 

[fanmoose12]

Hi! Can i request for a short fic abt this? Thanks! I think u would nailed it!!! 💓

hange: i can't believe we're stuck in this room together!

levi, quickly kicking the key under the door: truly unfortunate

levi knew that the door to this closet was broken. he knew that one, small, weak gast of wind was all it would take to get it shut, locking the unfortunates who forgot about precautions inside.

he knew all that, and when hange asked him to help bring a box out of that closet, he agreed without hesitation.

because farlan had said: "you have to create a moment."

and isabel added: "you need to confess to hange before someone else beats you to it!"

and erwin had adviced that "close proximity enhances romantic feelings."

and because levi wasn't a tactical genius like erwin, smartass like farlan and not even a romantic like isabel, he had to work with that he had.

and what he had was a dirty closet, covered in cobwebs and dust.

unsurprisingly, hange didn't enjoy the prospect of being stuck in a closet until someone passes through and rescues them.

as he watched four-eyes rage like a bull, banging on the door and screaming until her throat was raw, he contemplated if he should just abort the plan and kick the door down.

"you should never give up!" farlan's voice sounded in his head.

"proceed with courage and you'll be rewarded," erwin's voice joined him.

"you'll never get laid if you continue being such a lame-ass coward," isabel taunted him.

levi decided to stick to the plan until the end. the worst that could happen is that hange would tear him to pieces in a feat of rage.

not the worst way to go, levi thought wistfully.

isabel in his head gagged. erwin and farlan gave him the same disgusted expressions.

levi paid them no mind. maybe, he did have it bad for hange, and, maybe, the extent of his feelings for the four-eyed idiot was making him feel like a pathetic softhearted moron, but there was nothing he could do about it now. he tried many times, after all.

almost half an hour later, hange had finally calmed down. she plopped down on the floor next to him, panting heavily.

"we're stuck in here, levi," she declared mournfully.

"yeah," said levi, who could easily broke down that door. "it seems like we are."

"well, don't you worry!" hange gave him an encouraging smile. at the sight of it, butterflies fluttered somewhere deep in his stomach. "moblit would notice my absence and he'll get us out in no time."

if berner does it before something happens between him and hange - a confession or, even better, a kiss - he would break his nose. levi was going to confess, and he was going to do it today.

"we have nothing better to do..." levi said. "it's quite boring in here, we could talk or something. to pass the time, you know."

as soon as he finished, levi turned his face, cringing hard. he sounded like a fucking moron, he sounded like kirshtein every time he tried to talk to mikasa.

there was no way that hange would ever return the affections of a pathetic idiot like him.

"talk?" hange echoed. "yeah, let's do that! i love talking!"

levi knew that. hange liked talking, and she liked walking through the gardens in spring. she liked coffee with milk and three sugars, she liked sandwiches with fresh tomatoes and taking naps in the most random times of the day.

"what could we talk about, though...." hange tapped her chin with a finger, staring at the ceiling.

"we could talk about our feelings..." levi tentatively offered.

farlan and erwin in his head nodded in approval. isabel smiled and gave him thumbs up.

"feelings? hm, i have a lot of them..."

yeah, levi knew. hange had a lot of feelings about absolutely everything she came across. it was annoying and sometimes draining. but also, kind of endearing and amazing.

"you know, just recently i've been conducting this experiment, and it made me feel like i've never had before..."

and before he could stop her, before he could clarify that he wanted to talk about his feelings, hange's face lighted up.

levi groaned, it could only mean one thing - she was getting ready to discuss her stupid, but very important work.

levi knew hange, he knew there was no stopping her now.

and because he really was a pathetic softie, he tried his best to listen and make sense of her ramblings. hange jumped from topic to topic, gesticulating wildly. and, despite, his best efforts levi started to feel sleepy.

he leaned against the wall, taking a more comfortable position and moving just a bit closer to hange.

"mission had failed," erwin admitted sorrowfully.

"better luck next time," farlan added.

"enjoy the nap next to your crush. that's the most action you will get," isabel mercifully teased.

levi closed his eyes, hange's excited voice lulling him to sleep better than any lullaby.

____

when levi woke up, the door to the closet was open and he was all alone.

hange was gone, and in her place lay a crumpled piece of paper. levi picked up, trying to decipher hange's godawful writing.

as soon as he did, his eyes widened and a curse escaped his lips.

sorry for leaving! moblit came to the rescue, just like i predicted, but you looked so cute while sleeping, i didn't have the heart to wake you up.

also, just a friendly advice: if you want to confess your undying love to me, shorty, pick a better place than a closet. i have standards too, you know.

[wonlouvre]

pairing: doctor!wonwoo x lawyer!female oc genre: modern royalty, arranged marriage, fluff and future angst word count: 2.8k WARNINGS: hospital, injury, child trafficking, child abuse, hostage taking, guns, police, violence

author’s note: we have reached part 4!!! i think our couple’s relationship development is quite slow. please bear with me/them, they’re getting there!!! :’((( also, i am still very much thankful and overjoyed for the kind feedback that you guys gave for the previous chapter. i hope you guys are looking forward for this one. enjoy!!! :)))

four: let’s get you home, princess | masterlist

Wonwoo is not addressed as Your Highness inside the hospital premises. It’s actually rare for him to hear Your Highness ever since the royal decrees have been relaxed. His close friends, family and even colleagues have been calling him by his name or profession for the longest time. However, the King and Queen still must be addressed with utmost respect, regardless of who the person may be to the Royal Family. 

Things just got different when he started living and working at your kingdom. He had said that it’s okay for him to be called Wonwoo most especially by senior doctors who have been practicing even before he was born. But it was still awkward so they stuck with Dr. Jeon. These days, some young residents and interns still stutter and it just makes Wonwoo laugh. 

From time to time, Wonwoo is withdrawn from the hospital because of his duties as the Prince. Duties such as to make an appearance, attend a meeting or speak at an event. Said duties usually eat up most of his days in a week. Days where he could and should have been at the hospital, doing what he pledged to do until he dies. 

Wonwoo is loyal to the crown, but he is also committed to the people he promised to serve. 

The wedding planning has started and he’s relieved that you and him both have reached an agreement to hire a full-time planner that will arrange whatever the desires of your hearts may be. He’s grateful that just like him, you are happily married to your job. It’s a lame joke, but Wonwoo can never be bothered to care. So far as the wedding planning goes, you have been looking at venues such as hotels, private gardens or beach resorts. Initially, his parents offered to hold the wedding at their kingdom but you humbly requested to have it at your homeland instead. 

It was no issue to the King and Queen, definitely understanding where you were coming from.

Wonwoo admires that side of you. You seem to always know what you want and when you do, you speak up at the right time with elegance and confidence. He believes it’s the lawyer and princess in you altogether. 

The thought of you puts a smile on his face. He hopes you wake up soon so he can see you.

“Wonwoo?” 

His thoughts popped like a bubble when his name was suddenly called. He clears his throat and faces the owner of the voice. It was Soonyoung and by the looks of his grin, Wonwoo’s sure he witnessed him daydreaming. 

Wonwoo rolls his eyes and goes back to the charts he’s been reading. “What do you want?”

“That’s not how you return the favor of your friend who brought you a fresh batch of clothing,” his friend chides, bumping his shoulder against his tall friend. “You seemed to have had a great night, our Prince.”

It’s trivial, really. But Wonwoo’s cheeks blushed at the reminder. He will never tell anyone but staying with you yesterday until the early hours of today made him feel something he doesn’t know. It’s absurd how he can’t pinpoint what that something is, but he won’t deny that there is. 

“Shut up,” he grumbles like a child, ignoring the cheeky giggle Soonyoung emits. 

Speaking of Soonyoung, he was born in your kingdom and moved to the neighboring one when he was only a baby. Both his parents are doctors also who have the heart and passion to offer their services voluntarily. They were only set for a medical mission before going back in a month, but the King and Queen (Wonwoo’s parents) recognized and applauded their kindness, offering them a place to stay and permanent positions at their Royal Hospital. 

Being of the same age, Wonwoo and Soonyoung grew up together and became best of friends. 

It’s no question that he’s attached to the Prince wherever he goes. 

“Dr. Jeon,” another voice calls for him and this time, it sounded desperate. 

Wonwoo looks up and finds a young resident, looking disheveled and stressed. “What is it?”

“I have a young boy, 10-11-years-old, crying in pain while clutching his left arm,” she explains the basics before continuing, “He was brought by someone who seemed like his brother not older than 14-years-old. They weren’t accompanied by anyone.”

“Ask for their names and address,” Soonyoung suggests while standing straight and crossing his arms. “I’m sure we can find some contact details from the statistics office.”

The young intern shakes her head. “They’re not talking. All the older boy is saying, begging rather, is for us to help them.”

“X-ray?” Wonwoo asks and pumps some sanitizer on his hands. 

“The result is on the way.”

Wonwoo nods and starts walking to where the boys are. “Let’s see what we got then.”

The emergency department is always hectic and anyone that says otherwise is unbelievable. Regardless of what the case may be, Wonwoo stands that if they are brought here, it is an emergency. Usually, they range from new parents bringing their newborn baby who can’t stop crying in the middle of the night or some bringing their seven-year-old for a cast because they fell off the bike while playing with their friends. They all seem to be treatable and can be discharged in an hour or so. But sometimes, you can never be too sure. 

Wonwoo knows because he has witnessed it already. That one baby that’s been crying was actually fighting a fever and that one kid who fell from the bike? It was having trouble with his balance and movement. 

It’s not the first time that young children came to the hospital by themselves. They’re soon followed by their parents or guardian afterwards most of the time. Wonwoo supposes the kids this time around are in shock that they can’t form any clear thoughts at the moment. 

But Wonwoo doesn’t think that’s the case at all once the curtains were pulled open. 

“Oh my,” Soonyoung blurts out, surprised. 

Wonwoo expected two boys looking dirty and blushing from playing under the sun all throughout the day. He expected them to be silently crying for their mom or dad. He expected them to be at least healthy and on their way for a speedy recovery once they got treatment. But no, Wonwoo was wrong.

The boys looked awfully hungry and dehydrated. Their clothes were smaller than what their body looks like and the older brother is missing one pair of his shoes. He noticed bruises on some parts of their body. There’s even a nasty cut on the older boy’s bottom lip. 

Something’s wrong and Wonwoo is not a fool to not notice it. 

Wonwoo releases the breath he’s been holding and smiles genuinely. “Hello, I’m Wonwoo.”

Silence. 

He looked at Soonyoung before proceeding to meet the boy’s height who’s sitting on the chair beside his brother’s bed. “I’m going to take a look at your brother now, if you don’t mind.” 

The older one finally looks at him, his eyes dead serious. “That’s what they have been saying ever since we got here. Why can’t you just treat him already?”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Wonwoo tries to calm him down, noticing his tear-stained face and shaking voice. “Your brother will probably need a cast. We’re just waiting for the x-ray results to come out to know for sure. I just need to ask some questions, alright?”

The boy’s bloodied lip trembles as he nods his head. 

“I’ll go get the result,” Soonyoung says and leaves without forgetting to close the curtains.

“What’s your name?” 

“They call me Jung,” the boy answers, weak and unsure. He then points at his sleeping brother, “He’s called Sam.”

Wonwoo’s brows furrow in both confusion and doubt. Why wouldn’t they have official names? Looking at the brothers’ state all over again, it didn’t take Wonwoo long to comprehend what’s really going on. He turns his head to the resident and locks eyes with her, who’s already grasping the situation at hand. He then gives her a nod, signalling her to immediately call children’s services.

Once she leaves, Soonyoung arrives with an envelope. 

“It’s a fracture, but won’t need surgery,” He says happily and Jung sighs in relief. 

“But, you’re staying here for a while,” Wonwoo takes hold of the envelope from his friend. “We just need to run some more tests.”

Soonyoung looks at his friend with wide eyes asking, what are you talking about? But Wonwoo ignores him and keeps his smile in the hopes that the boy doesn’t grow any more agitated.

“Your brother is okay,” he assures Jung and squeezes his shoulder. “We’ll put the cast on his arm and clean the cut on your lip shortly. Stay here, okay?”

He pushes his friend out after the boy gives them a nod. Soonyoung was still glaring at him at the nonsense he spewed out earlier. Wonwoo puts a finger on his lip, gesturing for him to not say a thing yet until they move to somewhere more quiet. 

“What is going on?” Soonyoung whispered-shouts when they reached what seemed to be the fire exit. “What tests are we still running?”

“It’s a lie,” Wonwoo answers and smooths the lines on his forehead, thinking and thinking on what he should do. “We need to keep them here. I think… they’re victims of abuse and trafficking.”

Soonyoung’s jaw drops while his legs grow weak, making him stumble. This is nothing new to them. But even so, it still makes him sick to the stomach. He just nodded as he didn’t need to say anything else.

“I already asked for children’s services and they could arrive here anytime soon,” Wonwoo continues. “They looked like they escaped. I won’t be surprised if someone suddenly barges here, claiming they’re the parent or guardian.”

“What do we do when that happens?”

“We keep them safe,” he answers firmly. “No matter what.”

Every staff at the Emergency Room was alerted about the situation of the boys. Authorities were also called and they’ll be arriving soon. Wonwoo gave strict orders to not disclose any information about them to anyone who claims they are the parent or guardian. Any affiliation they assume is not acceptable unless they can prove it. 

The boys were transferred to a ward once Sam’s treatment was done. Wonwoo brought them some food, water and spare gowns to rid them of the excuse of clothes they’ve been wearing for who knows how long. It’s unbearable to imagine what they have gone through but seeing them get comfortable is enough to bring some peace to Wonwoo’s mind. 

He requested Soonyoung to stay with them or at least check on them from time to time and make sure no one goes inside their room other than the designated staff. He just needs the representative of the children’s services to arrive and they’ll start knowing what the next steps to take from there. 

Now that’s settled, Wonwoo can now go back to his routine and job.

Or not. 

“You’re Highness.”

His security detail stands before him, complete and blocking his way to the elevator that could bring him back to the Emergency Room. Wonwoo can notice the tense and nervous expressions on their faces like children about to admit the trouble they just caused. He had requested before that they be posted on the sides to not hinder him from working. They’re only to jump into action when it’s life threatening and by the looks of it they’re here in his face just to do that but he still asks.

“What are you doing here?”

The head of the group bows his head. “The Emergency Room is being held hostage by armed men. We need to leave as soon as possible.”

Wonwoo’s heart almost felt like it stopped beating. “No.” 

He needs to move. He needs to go back there. He can’t just leave.

Wonwoo forces his body against the men standing firm on their positions, only to be held back. His head of security nods at his men to not let him go and carry him if they have to. 

“No, no, no!”

Wonwoo thrashes from their hold as he screamed for them to let him go. He can hear his security speaking to his mic to prepare the vehicle that would transfer him to safety but in that second all men drop to the ground and shield him when an ear-splitting clap suddenly reverberates through the walls.

A gunshot was fired.

Meanwhile, you were brought to the top floor of the hospital at one of the private rooms reserved for the members of the Royal Family when you insisted on staying. Jeongyeon and the rest of your security detail were more than distressed at your stubbornness, fearing for the earful they’re going to get once this is all over. But they would rather have that than leave you and neglect their duty.

“Your Highness, we really have to go,” Jeongyeon reiterates, still trying to convince you while shaking your shoulders. 

You shake your head and avoid her eyes. “No, we can’t just leave the people here. We can’t leave…” you pause then whisper softly, “Wonwoo.”

Jeongyeon nods. “I know, I know. But the Royal Police are on their way and the Prince’s security detail is already with him. The two of you cannot stay here any longer. It’s an order from His Majesty.”

You swallow the lump on your throat. You can’t think. You can’t process whatever the hell is ensuing downstairs. The lives of innocent people, your innocent people, are at stake. 

You just can’t leave. You have to do something. 

“We’re not leaving this hospital until those armed men are immobilized.”

Jeongyeon wishes to plead further but all you hear was ringing when the sound of what you’ve been fearing the most resonated inside the room. 

Security scrambles and moves at a speed of light to protect you with their bodies. They were screaming among themselves but you fail to register what they’re saying. You fail to hear nor see your surroundings.

Everything became a blur.

Everything became nothing as your heart beated a thousand times faster than normal and the only person running through your mind is no one else but the Prince who was beside you just last night but is now in imminent danger.

Please, Wonwoo. Please.

“Their Majesties condemns the hostage taking that occurred at the Royal Hospital,” Prime Minister Lee starts, looking straight at the camera. “Their Majesties assures and promises the public that they will be held accountable for the crime they have committed but most importantly for the distress and trauma they have caused the patients. They commend the prompt action that the Hospital’s Security and Royal Police have taken resulting in no casualties.”

“Prime Minister Lee!” A reporter raises their hand. “Can you confirm that His and Her Highness Jeon Wonwoo and Y/N were at the hospital when the hostage took place?”

“Yes,” he answers, “Her Highness, Princess Y/N, was admitted to the hospital yesterday after fainting at her office…”

You switch the TV off with the remote before throwing it on the couch. You walk to the window with crossed arms and watch the Royal Police vehicles leave one by one after clearing the Emergency Room and declaring it safe. It’s now back to its normal operations. 

Apparently, the gunshot was fired by the police, wounding one of the hostage takers. They took advantage of that distraction to finally hold them down and arrest them right away. There’s no official statement from the Royal Police yet as they are still investigating further. You make a commitment to get to the bottom of this.

They’re gone now.

But Wonwoo is still unheard of. 

He’s safe, they told you. But that didn’t stop you from biting your nails, walking back and forth and pulling your hairs from the roots. You need to see him. 

“Your Highness,” Jeongyeon calls for you and your head snaps up. She gives you a small smile before opening the door she’s holding wider.

Wonwoo enters with a tired smile and you almost burst into tears. You ran to him as fast as you could, but your legs were weakened by worry, you almost fell. It’s a good thing Wonwoo meets you halfway and catches you in his arms. 

You take every tangible thing about him. You take and you take as you hold his waist tightly and bury your face to his chest. “You can’t do that to me.”

Wonwoo sighs in content upon breathing in your scent and hearing your voice. He wraps his one arm around your waist while the other holds your head gently. He stays silent and just holds you for as long as he desires. After the horror that transpired earlier, holding you like this is what he desperately needed. 

“Let’s get you home, Princess.”

[heyitssmiller]

Clandestine: Chapter Eleven

I... about 75% of this chapter was not in the outline, and I don’t really know what to do about that fact. This completely ran away from me, but that’s ok I guess.

Characters, as always, belong to the amazing @lumosinlove and a huge thanks again to @donttouchmycarrots for proofreading!! <3

Clandestine Masterlist

CW: hospitals, injury, brief mention of blood, medical drugs

.

Leo slept. A lot.

Logan knew this was normal; their nurse had reiterated it a few times now. When he did wake up, it was only for a few dazed, confused minutes before he was pulled back under again. The confusion ebbed the more time went on, the effects of anesthesia wearing off, but the dull sheen to his eyes remained. He could fight his way through a brief conversation with him or Finn, and then he was back to sleep. It was probably for the best, Logan told himself. Better than dealing with their present situation, at least.

Finn was curled up uncomfortably in the chair beside him, also sleeping. He normally looked peaceful when he was asleep – lips slightly parted, face relaxed, on his side or stomach with one hand usually shoved under his pillow. After about a week of sharing a hotel room and a bed, Logan knew these things. It wasn’t the same now. Granted, he was in a chair instead of a bed, but still. He was curled up somewhat in a ball, with the leg in a brace stretched out and immobile – an awkward position that almost made him look like a flamingo balancing on one leg. His shoulders were tense, even in sleep, and his jaw was clenched tight. A worry line was furrowed between his eyebrows, steadfastly refusing to smooth out. Logan brushed his knuckles faintly against the bruise on his cheek, plum against porcelain, and sighed. He knew he should be doing the same thing – sleeping, that is – but every time he closed his eyes… well. It wasn’t pretty. Besides, someone needed to keep an eye out. There was only so long the nurse could delay the GSW report.

It was only a matter of time before they were on the run again.

Regulus drifted in and out on occasion, checking in on them. He seemed to be on guard, constantly walking the perimeter of the hospital and keeping an eye out for familiar faces. It put Logan on edge and calmed him down at the simultaneously. He didn’t trust Regulus, not really, but he figured if he was going to sabotage them he would’ve done so already. He’d had ample opportunity, after all.

Logan glanced at the clock. They’d been here for just shy of twenty-four hours now. The sun was starting to rise again, not bringing any answers with it. Loops had been in contact, briefly. They’d received one text message that simply said “stay put” and radio silence after that. He just hoped they had a good plan. Even better if it was safe, too, but Logan wasn’t about to push their luck… if you could even call it that.

For now, this was ok. They were together, they were alive, and they were relatively safe, for now. In that moment, listening to the steady beeps of a monitor and muffled conversations of people in the hallway outside their door and the even breathing of his partners, he couldn’t ask for much more.

***

Nate saw the scowling, intimidating group of people in the lobby and knew they were in trouble.

He had just started today’s shift, still tired from the one the day before, and was in the process of saying his usual hello to the staff working the front desk when he saw them. There were three of them – at least two of which were over six feet tall, looming and muscular and intense. One had a scar traversing down one side of his face, healed but still a beacon that screamed “don’t mess with me”. The short, scary one was right.

He’d submitted the GSW report about ten minutes ago, and here they were.

Fuck.

Nate didn’t even say goodbye to the sweet lady working the desk that day, he just backed away slowly and tried to appear normal as he pushed past the doors. As soon as they closed he broke into a run, headed straight for room 308 and stopping by the nurse’s station for a split second to grab two prescriptions before he was off again. He was almost there when he crashed into someone as he rounded a corner, only avoiding hitting the ground by two arms that snaked out to steady him. He looked up to gray eyes and a vaguely familiar face.

“Sorry.” The guy said and let go of him, frowning when he saw what was no doubt a look of panic on Nate’s face. “You ok?”

He remembered this guy now. He was with the scary short guy and the other two. He wasn’t around much, but Nate had seen him a few times when he’d been making his rounds.

“They’re here.” He blurted, hoping that he didn’t need so say anymore.

He didn’t. in the blink of an eye he was leading the way to room 308 and throwing the door open, which Nate didn’t think was the best idea. He didn’t know what these people did for a living, but it was clearly dangerous. Barging in like that probably wasn’t a good move.

Sure enough, when Nate followed Gray Eyes into the room, the short one was on his feet and had pulled a gun from somewhere, aiming it at the two of them. Gray Eyes stuck his arm out and kept Nate from going any further until Short Angry One recognized them.

Nate used to think this was a relatively safe career path. Sure he might get puked on, yelled at, mentally and emotionally eviscerated by doctors and patients and family members alike on a regular basis, but he’d never felt like his life was in danger.

Maybe he should go into accounting. Just him in an office with a bunch of numbers. Or a museum curator, surrounded by ancient artifacts and not much else. Definitely not people pointing guns at you.

Both the redhead and the blond woke up at the disturbance, one sitting up in a flash and the other just blinking sleepily and frowning in concern. Before anyone else could get a word in edgewise, Gray Eyes blurted out, “They’re here.”

The EKG readings on the monitor spiked, and then it was a flurry of motion. Short Angry One cursed under his breath and pulled Gray Eyes and Nate into the room fully, closing the door behind them. The redhead started throwing the few things they had into his pockets – a phone, some other electronic device Nate couldn’t identify, an old lock, a pen. He shoved his shoes on, unsteady on his feet, and looked to the blond, who was still in a hospital gown and watching with wide eyes. All the color that had been slowly returning to his cheeks was now gone.

Nate steeled his resolve. His job was to save lives, damnit, and that’s what he was going to do.

He jumped into action, pushing Gray Eyes out of the way and unhooking his patient from the monitors before discontinuing the IV drip and pulling the IV out, stopping the bleeding with quick pressure from his hand. “There’s an employee exit down the hall that leads to the parking garage. You guys know how to hotwire a car, by any chance? I’d offer you mine but I don’t have one.”

“I can.” Glaring down at his sling, the blond muttered, “Well. Maybe can is the wrong word.”

Nate let up on the pressure, shrugged his thin jacket off, and helped him slide his good arm through the sleeve, throwing the other side around his shoulder gently. It wouldn’t do much to help, but it was better than nothing. “Can you show someone else how to do it?”

“Maybe.” He said, moving to swing his legs over the edge of the bed and frowning when Nate stopped him. “I can walk.”

Nate smiled. Typical. “That’s what they all say. I’m going to grab a wheelchair, anyways. You’ll be faster that way.” He looked at the others in the room and continued. “I’ll lead you to the exit, but I’m afraid that’s as far as I can take you. I’ll try to find these guys and get them off your trail as best I can.”

He shoved the two prescriptions he was so glad he’d filled last night at Ginger, trying to ignore the way all of them seemed to be staring at him. “Instructions are on the labels. He needs to finish all the antibiotics. All of them.” He didn’t have time to stress the importance of preventing antibiotic resistance, but he hoped they would take his word for it. “Let me go get-”

The door opened again and they all swiveled towards it. Ginger stepped between the blond and the door while Short One raised his gun again – but he didn’t shoot. In fact he just stared for a second, then lowered his gun with a smile.

“Loops.” He said, relieved, and – what?

The three men Nate had seen earlier were ushered into the room, the tallest one slapping the brunet on the shoulder, causing him to stumble as he flipped the safety of his gun back on and stashed it in the waistline of his pants.

The one in the front with caramel colored eyes looked between their group, one eyebrow arched. “Going somewhere? I thought I told you to stay put.”

Ginger laughed incredulously, shoulders slumping. “Holy shit, Loops. We thought you were someone else.”

Gray Eyes looked at Nate, exasperation clear in his gaze. “You told me they were here.”

Nate threw his arms up in defense. “You look at those guys and tell me you wouldn’t be suspicious.” He winced and looked at the newcomers, realizing that his words might be offensive. “Sorry.”

Neither of them seemed to take it to heart. The tall one just grinned and said, in a heavily-accented voice, “We still got it, eh, Nado?”

The one with the scar – Nado, apparently – just rolled his eyes and didn’t comment, but Nate could see one side of his mouth lifting into a smile. It softened his face, made him look more like a teddy bear than the scary, intimidating guy he’d seen in the lobby.

“We’ve got a car out back.” The one called Loops said, looking to the blond with gentle, understanding eyes. “You good to go?”

He nodded firmly, no room for second-guessing. “Let’s do this.”

Now, Nate didn’t exactly think it was a good idea to move a GSW patient out of a hospital only a day after getting shot, but – judging by how the others had reacted at the thought of people coming for them – it was safer for him to leave than to stay here. His brain, after all those years of medical classes and caffeine/anxiety induced all-nighters, was screaming in horror about complications and sepsis and bone fragments, but he didn’t voice them. He just reached for a pen and paper in his pocket. He scribbled his number down and handed it to his patient. “If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask, ok? I’d feel much better if you at least had a nurse with you, but this’ll have to do.”

He got a warm smile in response. “Thanks,” he said, voice and eyes serious. “For everything. Not many people would do what you did for us.”

Nate blinked. “I genuinely don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but thanks?” He still didn’t know who exactly he was helping, but then again, he guessed it didn’t really matter either way. They seemed like good people dealing with a shitty situation, and that was a good enough motive for him. “I’m going to grab that wheelchair quickly and I’ll be right back.”

He should’ve known that, by the time he got back, they’d already be gone – leaving no trace except for the disheveled sheets on the bed, two chairs next to it instead of the standard one, and the still humming machines and monitors.

Nate let himself slump against the wheelchair, forearms resting against the handles.

“What the fuck,” he said, with feeling.

***

Sirius was behind the steering wheel of a very old service van, watching six of them pile into the back and Loops slide into the passenger’s seat. His eyes didn’t stray long from Regulus, though. If he’d had enough time, he would’ve tackled his younger brother in a hug. Unfortunately, they were on a bit of a tight schedule. “Petition to never have to break someone out of a hospital again.” He said wryly, putting the van into drive and searching for the exit to the maze that was this parking garage. All the while, he was sneaking glances in the rearview mirror, unable to help himself.

“Where do I sign?” Finn deadpanned from the back row, sandwiched between Logan and Leo. They looked so tired. Leo didn’t hesitate to twist in his seat a little so that he could lean into Finn’s chest and close his eyes, looking absolutely miserable. Finn shifted just slightly, pressing a barely-perceptible kiss to a bird’s nest of curls and relaxing back into his seat.

Huh.

That was… new.

But then again, was it? Sirius thought back to the past several months of this operation and found that he really wasn’t that surprised. But then there was Logan…

“Turn left here.” Remus said, pulling him out of the thoughts, calm and in control like usual. His lips turned up into a smile as he flicked his turn signal on. He could see them doing exactly this, when all the chaos was said and done. Taking a roadtrip, Sirius behind the wheel and Remus navigating, going wherever they felt like. No worries or missions, just the two of them and the black top below them. He shelved the daydreaming for later.

“Where are we going?”

Sirius’ eyes flew back to the mirror at his brother’s voice – the first time he’d head it un-obscured by a phone or earpiece in too long. He’d missed him. He’d fought so hard for him, to get him out of that mess and keep him safe, and here he was. They’d done it.

Was he a horrible person, for feeling as relieved as he did? He’d inadvertently put the Cubs through hell for mostly selfish reasons. Sure, he wanted to take the Snakes down, but that paled in comparison to the safety of his brother. He’d let the Snakes walk away scot-free if it meant Reg was safe.

He didn’t know what kind of person that made him – he was too afraid to speculate about it.

“My family has a cabin about two hours away,” Remus replied, balancing his phone with the navigation app against the center console so that Sirius could see it. “It’s empty right now, so it’s a perfect hideout until we figure out next steps.”

Finn was asleep now, too, head pillowed on Leo’s. Logan stared sightlessly out the window beside them, stonily silent. Sirius ached for him. They were kindred spirits, he and Logan. Stubborn, fierce, bleeding hearts who cared too much and shouldered more than their fair share of the responsibility when things went wrong.

And things had really gone wrong.

“What are the next steps?” Reg asked as they left the city and headed towards the interstate. “This isn’t the only backup we’ve got, right?”

“Sleep,” Kuny told Regulus, not unkindly, “had big couple of days, yes? Plan later.”

Reg looked at the tall Russian sitting next to him for a second, then sighed and turned his gaze to the window.

Sirius drove on in silence.

Two hours and eighteen minutes later, he was pulling up on a gravel driveway to a quaint, two-story cabin. The jostling of the gravel under their tires seemed to wake everyone up, according to the grumbles and yawns Sirius could hear from behind him as he finally put the van in park. The doors opened and they were all climbing out of the van, stretching stiff muscles and groaning. The ones with bags in the trunk went to unload while Remus fished his keys out of his pocket and headed for the front door, bounding up the last two steps to the porch. He was equal parts glad and upset that they were here. He was grateful that the Cubs were safe now and that this cabin was so far off the grid that the Snakes wouldn’t find them. But bringing a bunch of coworkers to the place he went to escape work stuff… jeez. Not that he didn’t like his coworkers, but sometimes he needed a break from it all. Plus this place belonged to his family. Being here with anyone but them just felt wrong.

Remus opened the door, instantly on guard when he saw the kitchen light was on. Whoever was in there must’ve heard the door because Remus could hear the refrigerator door close, then loud footsteps headed towards them. His hand drifted to his gun and he cautiously flicked the safety off.

A head peeked out from the kitchen. All-too-familiar eyes widened excitedly. “Re?”

The safety quickly went back on. “Jules?”

He wasn’t supposed to be there. Their trip wasn’t for another week-

Remus’ younger brother beamed and launched himself towards him, leaping into Remus’ arms when he got close enough with an excited shout.

“What are you doing here? I thought you couldn’t make it this trip!”

“What am I – what are you doing here?” Remus shot back, tensing up when he heard footsteps behind him. “Your trip is supposed to be next week!”

“School got cancelled because of all the snow.” Jules peered around Remus at the gathering group behind him. “Who are they?”

“Jules?” The familiar voice of their mother called from down the hall. “Who are you talking to, honey?”

Oh god, this was something straight out of Remus’ nightmares. How the fuck was he supposed to explain all this to his family? The rest of their agents were supposed to drive up here tomorrow with gear and supplies and weapons for their final stand against the Snakes. That… there was no way to explain that. At all.

Fuuuuuuck.

Hope Lupin stepped around the corner, startling when she saw the crowd on her doorstep. “Remus?”

“I’m so sorry, mom,” he blurted, the words coming out in an unfiltered rush. “I didn’t know you’d be up here or else I would’ve-”

“Oh, nonsense. We’re happy to have you and your… friends.” She said sweetly, voice raising into an almost-question at the end. Remus, flying blind, said the first thing that came to mind.

“They’re work friends. And there’s a few more coming tomorrow, if that’s ok.”

“What happened to him?” Jules interrupted, wide eyes trained on Leo, who smiled faintly.

“Shoulder surgery,” Leo said easily, taking Remus by surprise a little at how easily he responded with a textbook spy tactic: tell the truth, but only enough to not raise suspicion. He technically wasn’t lying, either. It was harder to get caught lying when you technically hadn’t.

It seemed like the rookie was no longer a rookie.

“It was recent, wasn’t it?” Hope asked, eyes sharp with observation as she ushered them all inside. When Leo looked at her a little distrustfully and both Logan and Finn stiffened beside him, she sent them all a soothing smile. “I’m a nurse, I can tell.”

“About a day and a half ago.” Leo let her lead them to a couch and sat down, answering Hope’s questions calmly now, seeming to know she could be trusted. When Remus looked around again, he noticed that Sirius and Regulus were both absent, no doubt having a much-needed talk. He was struck with a twinge of worry, but pushed it back. He shouldn’t interfere. They needed some time alone to sort through things. Sirius would talk to him about it if he felt like it. Nado and Kuny were trying to sneak their way into the kitchen, looking for whatever smelled so good in there. For spies, they weren’t very subtle.

“What kind of shoulder surgery?” Jules asked, trailing after their mom. “Re had one a few years ago, too!”

Remus winced and shot Leo an apologetic look for his over-inquisitive brother. “Not quite the same, Jules.”

“All he does is sleep now,” Finn said teasingly as he took a step back and stretched out his leg with only a slight wince. “My jacket has drool all over it from the car ride here.”

Leo shot Finn an unheated glare as he sat up and opened his mouth to shoot back a reply when all of a sudden he went pale as a sheet, eyes dazed. Everyone in the room froze, looking at him nervously.

Finn was kneeling in front of him in a flash, Logan already holding his hand too tightly from his spot beside him. “Leo?”

The blond squeezed his eyes shut and leaned into Logan heavily. “Hurts,” he managed to grit out while Logan wrapped an arm around his waist and held him close, combing his fingers through a riotous mess of curls. He locked gazes with Finn and saw a different kind of pain from Leo’s, but identical to Logan’s, reflected there as he watched helplessly.

Maybe they should’ve accepted the risks and stayed at the hospital. They’d be sitting ducks there, but at least it wouldn’t be this. Logan would take the uncomfortable chairs and the nurse who talked too much and the stress over the heavy weight pressed against him, the shaky, too-measured breaths, the soulful brown eyes that matched his own.

It felt like all the decisions he’d been making recently were the wrong ones. It would be nice to not put his partners through pain because of his poor decisions for once.

Hope was by their side then, holding out a glass of water and two pills. Logan hadn’t even noticed Finn set the prescriptions down on the entryway table. “I think it’s time to take these now.” Leo refused to move from his current spot, but he took the pills and followed them with a quick drink of water. A muffled “thank you” was murmured into the material of Logan’s shirt, quiet and a little tense.

Hope just smiled sympathetically. “You’re probably going to get really sleepy in the next thirty minutes or so,” she continued, giving the three of them a look. Like she knew something. “So if there’s any conversations that can’t wait until the morning…”

Loops came by his eerie observation skills naturally, it seemed.

Logan looked to Remus and the others, hoping that all the planning could wait until the morning. They were exhausted. Surely they’d be ok without them for a few hours.

“Go get some rest,” Loops said gently, motioning down the hallway. “There’s a guest bedroom down there, second door on the left. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Finn made a beeline for the bathroom as soon as they reached the bedroom, muttering about how he’d needed to use the restroom since they’d all piled into the van. Leo toed off his shoes while Logan hovered, unsure if he should offer to help or not, his heart still in his throat. Leo just sent him a weary, affectionate smile. It tugged viciously at Logan’s heart and made him want to pull his partner close and not let go. Ever.

“I’m ok, sweetheart.”

He could’ve cried at the relief of hearing that nickname again. “You sure?” He asked, just to be safe.

Leo’s face was inscrutable as he cautiously sat down on the bed. “If I keep telling myself that… eventually I’ll start to believe it, right?”

Logan didn’t have an answer to that, not at first. But he remembered the feeling from after missions that had gone belly-up, the few that he wasn’t sure he was going to make it out of. The disbelief that somehow, after all of that, he was still alive and ok. It felt like trying to find his way through a snowstorm when all he could see was blinding, overwhelming white.

He wasn’t about to let Leo navigate that without a guide.

He sat down next to Leo and grabbed his hand, moving down to the pulse-point at his wrist and feeling tendons flex and shift under his fingertips. It beat, steady and strong, when he pressed down lightly. He knew Leo could feel it, too.

“You’re here.” Logan said simply. It was a tactic he used on bad days, when everything got to be too much. That little pulse, a sign of life and resilience. The two of them shared that now, that resilience and refusal to die that flowed through their veins.

Leo stared at him, eyes so soft and a hue that Logan wanted to engrave into his memory. “Logan,” he said quietly, right as Finn flung the bathroom door open again. His mouth was in the process of opening to tell a joke when he saw the two of them and snapped it shut again with an audible click, unsure of what to do next.

Leo shared a look with Logan and a conversation passed between the two, silent but apparently crystal clear. Finn couldn’t quite tell if it was excitement or anxiety dancing in his stomach, but either way he wasn’t sure he liked the sensation.

He had a feeling he knew what was coming. They’d been tip-toeing around this conversation for too long now, and they’d finally reached the tipping point. However this conversation went, he knew their relationship would never be the same, and that scared him. There was comfort in things known and familiar, after all.

This felt like hanging out of a perfectly-good plane and not knowing if the parachute strapped to his back was going to work or not.

But everyone who took the jump said it was worth it, in the end. Finn desperately hoped they were right.

“I think we should talk.” Logan said quietly, patting the open spot on the bed next to him. The dreaded words. No one ever wanted to hear those words.

Finn made his way towards them, too afraid to make eye contact, and sat down gingerly. Feet firmly planted on the floor, one hand braced on the bed, tense and ready to get up and take flight if he felt like he needed to. “We’re finally going to have this conversation, huh?” he asked with a fake laugh that fell flat, finally glancing up. Looking at the two of them, side by side and seeming to just know each other in a way Finn felt like he didn’t, he wondered where he fit into all of this.

If he fit in at all.

God, he hoped he fit in.

“Look,” Leo started, voice steady and resolute like he was getting ready to rip off the proverbial bandaid. It did nothing to calm Finn down. “Logan and I talked a while ago, about us. And, um – well, we want to be together. All three of us.”

Finn blinked once, twice. The words weren’t exactly computing, not after spending so long telling himself that this would never happen, could never happen. “Oh.”

“You had to know,” Logan said, sounding confused. “You had to know how we felt. None of us were exactly subtle.”

“I… I hoped.” Finn managed to get out before he got distracted by Logan’s soft touch against the curve of his cheekbone, creating his own constellations out of the freckles there. Finn let his eyes close and focused on the point of contact. He had hoped, even if he’d tried to stamp it out most days. He’d hoped and he’d yearned and he’d ached, and now – finally, unbelievably – he might be getting exactly what he’d wanted. “I knew how the two of you felt about each other, I just… wasn’t sure where that left me.”

“Finn…” He heard the sheets rustle as Leo scooted closer and opened his eyes again.

“Can you blame me?” Finn let Leo hold his hand and slot their fingers together, a painfully delicate motion. He stared down at them, noticing faint green bruising from an IV line and deeper, purple discoloration from that one time Finn tried to catch himself before he hit the ground after a brutal punch. They matched, in a sick, twisted way.

But they were both healing – skin stitching itself slowly back together and aches fading little by little. There was a poignant symbolism there, Finn thought, musing over the words he needed to say. Talking about the doubts and the hurt and the confusion surrounding the three of them might be painful in the moment, but healing would always follow, even if it took a while.

He was thrilled that they wanted him, don’t get him wrong, but that didn’t have the ability to just wipe away the hurt of the past week. “You seemed happy together, just the two of you.” He thought of the coffee shop and watching them from his table with June. Or the hotel room the next day, the stolen glances and furtive touches. “I didn’t want to get in the way of that, not if I wasn’t wanted.”

One of the other two made a broken sound; Finn wasn’t sure who it was. The hand on his cheek moved to his chin and Logan ducked his head to meet Finn’s eyes again, fierce and sincere – a combination that encompassed the very core of the fighter.

“I’ve wanted you since that crazy New Year’s party.” He said with conviction and Finn laughed a little at the memories.

“Then why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Why didn’t you?” Logan challenged, signaling a change in the winds. Finn could see the storm brewing in those green eyes. “We were partners. Adding a relationship to the mix would only complicate things.”

“So what changed?” Finn let his frustration bleed through, ignoring Leo’s squeeze to his hand. “You’re saying two completely different things right now and it’s confusing as hell.”

Logan bit back, voice suddenly loud and harsh. “You think this is how I wanted to fall in love?”

Leo and Finn stared at him. No one had mentioned love. Not yet, at least. Logan seemed to recognize the intensity of his words and his shoulders slumped, but he didn’t take them back. Finn wasn’t sure if he was grateful for that or terrified because of it.

“It’s not supposed to be this hard, is it?” the brunet asked, voice a softer murmur. “Why couldn’t the three of us be normal and meet at, like, college or a coffee shop or something?”

Silence greeted him, heavy and suffocating.

“Because these are the cards we were dealt,” Leo said finally, looking between the two of them. “And yeah, it might be a shitty hand, but don’t you think it’d be worth it? After all that we’ve been through, choosing each other instead of letting the fear pull us apart?”

“Sounds like something out of a romance novel.”

Leo shrugged his good shoulder at Logan’s words, a conscientious effort to keep the other side of his body completely still. Finn ached a little at the sight. “Love isn’t easy, not for anyone. It’s a choice you make, day after day.” Blue eyes the color of a cloudless afternoon sky were calm and free of conflict when he looked at them again. “I’ve made my choice. What about you?”

Finn stared at him for what felt like forever, then blurted, “Did you rehearse that or something? What the fuck, Nutty.”

The resulting smile on Leo’s face was a welcomed reprieve from the earlier storm, placid and radiant. How was Finn supposed to do anything else but lean over, cup his cheeks in his hands, and press his lips against that smile?

Leo kissed a little distractedly, like he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to do first. The hand not caught in a sling flitted from auburn hair to fist in his t-shirt, then migrated lower to wrap around Finn’s back, long fingers splayed against his spine. But his mouth was soft and sweet against Finn’s, returning his kisses happily, and the combination of the two were just so Leo that Finn’s stomach swooped and his heart flopped in his chest.

He pulled back for air, an unfortunate necessity, and took in the sight in front of him. Leo’s eyes were still closed and that smile still graced kiss-swollen lips as he swayed towards Finn, clearly wanting more. Finn smiled too, irrevocably charmed, and kissed his cheek, his jaw, that cute little indent in his chin, then the curve of his smile again. He could never, not in a hundred years, get enough of this.

And then Logan met his gaze from beside the blond, eyes fond and warm as he watched them and ran his fingers up and down Finn’s thigh, the motion raising goosebumps on Finn’s arms – the air dense and volatile around them like the instant before lightning struck. Finn needed to kiss him, too. To learn the difference between the way he kissed to keep up pretenses on a mission and the way he kissed when he meant it. Finn kept Leo close with a hand on his waist and tilted Logan’s head up to kiss him, deep and intense. It was thrilling and a little wild; so different from kissing Leo, but just as captivating. Always unpredictable, the kiss morphed from charged to surprisingly, achingly gentle – a thunderstorm melting into a comforting spring shower. Finn was reminded of shoving the couch up against the wall nearest to the window during storms as a kid, watching the raindrops track down the glass, and the sound of the world going silent save for the wind and the thunder and the rain hitting the roof like the pounding of drums – a symphony just for him to witness. He sighed against soft lips and sank into the kiss, listening for the intricacies of this new, unknown melody.

The rustle of clean sheets, a hitch in breath followed by a deep exhale, the steady beat of the old clock hung on the wall, a hum against his lips.

Then Leo was leaning in to kiss Finn’s pulse-point, firm enough to bruise and tender enough to make Finn’s eyelashes flutter. Finn canted his head to the side, stretching his neck to give Leo more skin to claim, and pulled Logan in again. A duet shifting to a trio and slotting perfectly into place, patching the gaps in the music that Finn didn’t even notice were there.

This was worth it. It had to be. As much as it would kill him – or any of them, really – to love them and then lose them, that would still be better than not loving them at all.

They’d wanted this for so long now, all of them. Even with all the stress and hurt and doubt, Finn couldn’t help but feel a little giddy. For fuck’s sake, he was kissing Logan. It wasn’t part of a mission. And Leo was still pressing kiss after kiss to his neck because he wanted to. They wanted each other.

Screw panicking about losing them. Finn was done missing things because he was worried about things that might not even happen. It wasn’t something he could just will away or turn off, of course, but he could actively make sure he was living in the current moment. And right then, the current moment was making out with his boys in a cabin in the middle of nowhere.

He loved the current moment.

The kiss turned to simply smiling against Logan’s mouth, delirious with contentment, so Finn broke away and pulled Logan in for a hug, then gently maneuvered Leo to join them, making sure his wound was well out of the way. They stayed like that for a long time, relaxing in the closeness and adjusting to the newness of all of this. And even though it was new, it was already something they were quickly getting addicted to. The string connecting Finn’s heart to theirs cinched tighter and pulled sharply. For the first time, he didn’t mind it in the slightest. It was no longer a painful reminder of what he couldn’t have, it was an exhilarating sign that were all irreversibly intertwined, both in each other’s arms and in this crazy mess that was their lives.

Leo interrupted the moment with a yawn, blinking sleepily. Finn smiled a little at the sight – he almost felt like he was doing too much of that in the past few minutes, but sleepy Leo was simply adorable.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” Logan urged. It would be a tight squeeze, the three of them in that bed, but now they could cuddle and press close without pretending it didn’t happen the next morning. Finn sighed happily at the thought and headed for the light switch. The light from the lamp on the bedside table illuminated his way back to his boys, all soft and stretched out next to each other under a pale comforter. It was a much-needed reprieve from the chaos of their current situation that Finn was all to eager to take advantage of.

He watched as Logan propped himself up on one arm to look down at Leo, hand trailing through that tuft of gray hair and then tugging on it playfully. They shared a smile before Logan leaned down the rest of the way to kiss him, assured and familiar and unrushed. They’d done this before. The knowledge didn’t tear at Finn’s heart like it would have a week ago, because now he knew that they felt the same way about him. And he was falling for them, too. Watching the two boys he was half in love with already so comfortable and loving with each other? How was Finn supposed to handle all the emotions bubbling over in his chest? He crawled into bed next to Logan and flicked the lamp off, settling the room into darkness.

Logan settled in to sleep facing Finn and with Leo’s reassuring warmth behind him. His eyes closed and time slowed, a blessed mercy. The events of tomorrow felt years away in that still, quiet moment. But there was something prodding at the back of Logan’s mind – some strange, uncomfortable feeling that he could quite place, until he realized that everything was too still, too quiet. His mind flashed to the litany of “what ifs” that had looped in his brain like a mantra back in that hospital room and he rolled over quickly, shuffling over until his head was pillowed on Leo’s chest, far away from the bandages.

Thump-thump.

Leo’s chest rose and fell under Logan’s head as he breathed and Logan let himself relax, reaching blindly behind him until he found Finn’s arm and flung it over himself, loosely intertwining their fingers over his chest. Finn moved in closer to press against his back and tangle their legs together. He sighed before going still again, breaths deep and even.

And Logan finally, finally let himself drift off to sleep.