#sorry this took me so long i got to not so dry bones and then i had to stop to eat dinner and watch beetlejuice. 😭😭

[euon111a]

B L O O D L U S T: THE OTHER SIDE

summary: this is the second and last part to Bloodlust, the first part is here.

warnings: themes of violence, death, vampirism, supernatural elements, voodoo/occult themes, mentions of forest sex, light biting, more choking, spitting, fingering (f!receive), power dynamics, dark romanticism, toxic relationship-ish (like barely), piv, barebacking, oral (f!receive), dry humping, slapping, slight masochism, body worship (f!receive/giving), munch remmick

w/c: 8.8k

notes: first, thank you so much for the support on the first part, i deadass thought this would flop. the first part of bloodlust was actually so rough imo, it felt very PG, but I had to post it to get this in, bc i couldn’t force fit this part into one post. so sorry this took so long. i saw this tiktok of munch!remmick and wanted to incorporate him into this, hence the warnings. i know it’s in past tense, and i know some parts are super rushed. i kinda got writer’s block so trust the process. i’ll try to post more consistently, im feigning for smoke so maybe ill do something there, in the mean time, if y’all have any ideas plspls let me know. this part is actually kinda proofread (i read it once), and it’s meant to be read as a memory, not in the present tense. again, no use of y/n, in second pov and afab reader. (this was also supposed to be out last week..but i had finals, and i was kinda procrastinating... enjoy.)

All you could feel was weight.

Heavy.

Unbearable.

Like you weren’t actually you. Your body wasn’t yours. Everything was sitting wrong. Your bones, your breath, that stretch of muscle that was a little too sharp, too tight, as if your own body was rejecting itself.

It was slow at first. Then, too fast. Every sense in you was clawing at each other, fighting each other for dominance. Everything was sharp, violent, torturous, maddening, excruciating. Every breath you took was ragged. Every noise from miles around you was picked up like it was instantly magnetized to your ears. The air itself was heavy. Not cold, or crisp, or dense with that moisture that was always stuck to it, but pressed into your lungs with each labored breath until you just couldn’t breathe anymore.

Everything was peaceful for a moment.

Almost serene.

And just when you swore you saw that bright light, that faint hum and the warmth of someone reaching out to you. Something snapped into place.

Something new.

Your eyes snapped open like you were woken up from a nightmare, as if your mind was dragging behind you. Every thought in your mind was waking up slow, even when your body was already pushing up away from the arm rest you were propped up against.

You had gotten used to the feeling of your body not moving like you wanted it to, your Gramma told you it was normal, that it was the spirits speaking for you. But now, it felt different. Everything was sitting wrong, moving wrong, acting wrong. Like movement itself didn’t belong to you anymore.

Your senses were on overdrive. The world wasn’t coming to you slowly, it was forcing itself onto you. Stretching out thin, pressing down too heavy until you were forced to go with it.

Sound was too clear. Light was too bright, harsh in the way the sun peeks through the window in the morning before you’ve got the time to adjust to it. Every shift of the wind, every scrape of movement against the floor amplified, like the earth was demanding your attention.

Everything was distorted.

Transformed.

Almost disconnected. Like you were awake, but in this prolonged state of blur. Your body was all too aware of every sound, of every movement. Especially that empty pit in your stomach that settled like dust on shelves. It was like every aspect of who you were was alive, buzzing into each other until they were one blob of energy.

Every emotion was happening at the same time. Sadness. Happiness. Despair. Unease. Unsteadiness. Anger. And not that simple kind of anger when you don’t get your way, but something deeper. Louder. Instincts fighting against logic. Everything heightened before they can adjust. Like you were stripped of your skin and your clothes and placed into something new, something that wasn’t you.

Then there was that first moment of realization, of finally knowing nothing is the same, of knowing there’s no undoing it, there’s no changing it. This had to be, even if you were in denial of it.

You hadn’t caught it at first, not until you felt it. That hunger. It was insufferable.

The weight of emptiness pressing into your stomach, heavy into your chest. Not craving, or yearning, but need. Something that was written into your body before your mind could catch up to it.

That struggle between control and impulse, like the body wants things the mind ain’t willing to accept yet.

The subconscious fight against denial, because you can’t really deny it, not with how everything feels.

You hated him.

Couldn’t believe him.

Couldn’t wrap your mind around the fact that he actually did it.

Didn’t hesitate.

Didn’t give you time to process, to fight, to breathe. He just took. Like it wasn’t a big deal. Like it was meant to fucking happen.

You didn’t think it’d happen.

Didn’t think it’d happen like this. Right now. Right here.

Honestly, you weren’t sure what you were thinking.

Maybe you wasn’t thinking.

Maybe this wasn’t what you thought would happen.

Maybe you’d expected the same damn thing Gramma did to get that scar on her arm—expected pain, expected survival, expected a wound that would heal slow but steady. She never told you what happened, but you could assume how she got it. It wasn’t meant to be like this.

Not this.

Not by him.

Not this fear pressing against your ribs like it’s fighting for space between what used to be there and what is now.

Not this hunger. The deep, clawing of something born from the absence of what used to sustain you.

Were you meant to just… die?

Did Gramma know?

Would she know?

Would she cry?

Would she be angry?

Would this hunger go away?

Is this normal?

The world wasn’t the same.

You weren’t the same.

And nothing about this felt normal, but normal didn’t belong to you anymore. It was forever different.

You could feel the steady beat of your pulse slowing, and then stopping, like the body couldn’t handle trying to keep itself alive before altering into something new.

You could physically feel the heat fading from you, the absence, the shiver, the cold. The same kind of lack of warmth you’d get from waking up in the middle of the night from one of your dreams.

With each sharp breath, the slight wetness in the back of your throat, dragging in too much air, like your lungs ain’t sure if they had gotten enough, you could feel it. That tension in your muscles, bracing for something that was coming too fast and too slow.

It wasn’t all at once not like how you thought it’d be. It was gradual, overwhelming, like your senses were set on overdrive. The light burning too bright even after you blinked to try to get used to it, the sound stretching too far, the pain in your neck getting so damn awful you thought you was gonna pass out.

Everything that once felt normal felt strange, you didn’t like the warmth of the candles by the windowsill, or the heat of the fireplace even though it did nothing to warm you up. It was like your body remembered the old rhythm of life how it was before, but refused to follow it anymore. Decided on its own that it was time for a change.

And then you breathed again, not with your eyes closed or the labored breathing right before what was meant to be your eternal rest. But the first inhale, sharp, deep, pulling in air too fast, too much, like your lungs were resetting to accustom to the unknown change, but they didn’t need to.

He had reassured you nonstop when you opened your eyes, when you looked around the quiet living room, when you subconsciously looked around for Gramma but couldn’t find her. Irritatingly enough, he hadn’t left you alone, kept by your side, even though you knew you needed that. Needed that companionship. Even if he was the motherfucker who was putting you through this. Said you didn’t have to like it, but that he’d teach you. Promised you he wouldn’t let you fall apart so long as you trust him.

And you did. Almost.

Your body did. Too quick, too obedient, like your body and your mind weren’t one. Your mind wasn’t in control anymore. Not like it was meant to be.

The first actually movement was slow at first, then too quick, like the idea of control was stuck between struggling, hesitating and this weird newfound strength. You was already moving away from the couch, trying to look out the window for any sign of Gramma.

But the awareness was creeping in. She was gone, he was here, you were new. Renewed. Reborn. Reconstructed to where every step you took set every muscles and nerve in your body on fire. Where you could feel the energy of the air around you, could feel the bend of light even before you turn to look at it.

“I’m hungry.” That was the first thing you’d said. Not that you were in pain, or that you could feel and taste every color around you. But that you were hungry. It came out like it wasn’t a thought, it’s just the truth, just weight in your stomach, just something that won’t fade even after you’ve tried to ignore the rumble the first time.

Tears should have come, but it didn’t feel right. It couldn’t. It wouldn’t be grief, wouldn’t be relief, or sorrow or sadness, wouldn’t be human anymore.

Hell you tried. Tried to feel the tightness in your chest and the water in your eyes, but it just don’t sit the same. Don’t feel like it used to, don’t carry warmth, or that feeling of loss the way it did before.

It was emotion wasn’t fading, just sitting in the back of your mind. Like something was missing, and it wasn’t the heartbeat, but the warmth, the feeling behind the tears and emotions.

He didn’t reach out, or react like that attempt to grief was something that needed soothing. He just watched, kept silent and close, just waiting for you to process it on your own. He didn’t even apologize for what he done, no regret, or guilt or shame. Nothing. This wasn’t about regret, this was about survival, about transformation.

“Tears don’t change what’s already done.” Not dismissively, just truth.

He stays. No leaving, no retreating, just staying close, making sure you knew you ain’t alone.

And then a glance, lingering and unreadable. Not pity, or discomfort, just observation. A mutual understanding.

Another shift closer, small, steady, calculated. Not pushing, just anchoring, just making sure you had felt something solid nearby. Making sure you felt the weight of his presence. Not overbearing, not suffocating, just there. Undeniable.

A hand near, but not touching. Like the choice was yours if you needed some kind of comfort, but far enough to let you know that he ain’t reaching unless you actually need it.

Let you have the space you needed to come to terms with the reality without total isolation. Looks that were silent and unspoken but had some understanding to them. Something that didn’t need to be spoken and didn’t need details.

But that hunger hit deep, pushing past every other thought.

You fought against it, refused to give into what you so desperately craved, because giving into that burning would only mean acceptance to what you’ve been forced to become.

He stayed close that weekend, said the same shit Gramma told you about staying indoors for the weekend. Told you the first few nights aren’t about freedom, they’re about regaining control, and he made it clear he was gonna to stay real close regardless of what you said.

You started noticing the shifts later that night. Some sense of strength settling into your limbs, senses stretching too far just for instincts to be pressing in.

Gramma never came back. Never showed up to guide you through this. Was never close enough to get a good whiff of the cinnamon that always followed her. Remmick refused to let you leave when it was safe, said the first real test would come. Not a test of smarts or endurance, but a test of strength and restraint, navigating who you were now.

“As long as it takes.” That’s what he said. Though you kinda expected it to be faster, to feel shorter. Wasn’t minutes that passed by. Wasn’t hours or days. It was until he decided you were completely stabilized. Until you learned the world know, until you were ready to walk on your own without breaking at every distraction.

You didn’t get a choice, no matter how much you insisted. No matter how much you sore yo and down that you were ready, because he claimed that throwing you back into your normal routine without understanding meant disaster.

Days, maybe weeks, shy of just two months. Or that’s what it felt like. You pushed past the time, fought fast, accepted fast, stopped denying the inevitable just to feel freedom again.

You couldn’t even leave even if you wanted to. You tried. He didn’t go looking for you in the night, you had already found your way back like your body was tugging you back to him before you got too far. You tried again, and once more just for confirmation, just to get right back in the damn house.

It was the same five steps every night as soon as the sun hide behind the horizon. Listen. Watch. Wait. Control. Eat. Only ‘cause he said surviving ain’t just about feeding, it’s about knowing when to hold back. That you was still unstable, too predictable, had to learn first hand from him.

He said he knew all about that first acceptance, and the hunger that forced its way through. And you learned real quick, even if you didn’t want to.

It was anger at first, then resistance again, fighting against the change that already happened, and just before you could do anything about the own emotional rollercoaster you were going through, there was hunger again. Aching, and sore and undeniable in a way you can’t ignore it, no matter how hard you tried.

Over and over again. The constant fighting, the constant tearing, the denial, the feeding. All one endless cycle for days.

Then finally. Forced acceptance, not acceptance in a way to make peace with what’s happened. Not relief of what was the past and what’s to come in the future, but just submission. Knowing there’s no turning back.

Then the lessons of control. The relearning of who you were, who you are, who you will be. The tests to make sure you didn’t snap tin early or too late. Tests to make sure you knew what you were now. Not human. Not alive. Not dead. Just there.

That night, things got heated. You were angry, upset, emotional and alone. He kept pushing and pushing, but you just snapped. Told him you hated him, said you wanted nothing to do with him.

He didn’t argue, maybe because the two of you both knew hate don’t change reality in situations like this.

He didn’t apologize, still hadn’t regretted what he did.

He just watched, not unsettled, or annoyed or shocked by your actions. He was just waiting for you, you wasn’t sure if he was waiting for you to realize that anger wouldn’t undo anything or if he was just waiting for you to act on your emotions.

“Hate me all you want. It won’t change what you are. You’ll come to terms with it eventually.” He said it so casually, so calmly, like he was completely brushing off the emotions you were feeling. It was as if the past don’t matter anymore. Who you were back then don’t matter to who you are now. Like what he said was just facts, and that you had no room to feel anything. He all but threw it in your face, mocked you for your stupidity and looked at you in a way that said that you can fight all you want, but reality won’t change.

You wasn’t sure what happened. You hadn’t hesitated, or even considered to think about what you were going to do. Something just sparked through you. Anger, rage, hurt, frustration. You should’ve hesitated, but for once, your mind moved for you, your hand moving in sync with every thought in your head. Fueled only by the sheer force of your emotions, your hand met the side of his face, and Lord did it feel so good. It was something indescribable, like a weight had been lifted from you and this feeling of euphoric relief was replaced. The slap rang out, sharp and echoing like a gunshot in the pure silence of the air between you.

That momentary bliss was short lived.

The sound of your palm striking his cheek bounced across the room in a way that was physically hurting you. He didn't even move, didn't lean back to avoid your hand, didn't attempt to stop you with a single word of warning. He just watched you. Observing the wave of emotions that flickered across your face at the sheer stupidity of your own actions.

You felt the urge to step forward, to reach out and plead for forgiveness, to beg for his understanding and mercy in the face of your lack of control. The impulse was a reflex, an instinct grown by the difficulties of the turn that had long since been established between you. You were worried you’d upset him, crossed some kind of boundary, angered him enough to the point that silence was the only answer. His gaze never wavered, as if daring you to make the connection, to give voice to the apology hovering on the tip of your tongue.

Yet, even as the words formed in your mind, you hesitated. Something in his eyes made you pause, a flicker of uncertainty that made you question the wisdom of ceding to your first impulsive urge. His silence, his stillness, his unwavering focus on your face. It was a challenge, a test, a silent demand for you to confront the truth of your own thoughts and the pull of your body.

“Do it again.” That was all he said. Three words. He wasn’t upset, or annoyed or irritated. Said it like nothing. Like you was having a normal conversation and like you hadn’t just smacked him. You wasn’t sure if he was provoking you to fuck up again, or if he was mocking you, hell it might’ve been both, but before you could even move he was grabbing your wrist.

His hand moved with a speed that went against his composed stature. His fingers wrapped around your wrist in a grip that would have been painful if you were able to feel past the constant dullness of your own body. He forced you forward, the brisk, sudden force of his action sending a hot bolt of electricity jolting up through your arm. It went up the expanse of your shoulder, down the length of your spine, until it stopped right at the base of your back just to erupt in a burst of uncomfortable energy. Your feet naturally stumbled, your body hitching forward as he dragged you closer to him, though you wasn’t sure if he was guiding you to him or forcing you to his side.

Up close, you could see the faint pinkness of your palm imprinted to the side of his face. The skin of his cheekbone was still flushed and tingling from the force of your petty slap. His eyes, when you finally looked up to met his, glowed with this unreadable emotion that had your breath stuck in your throat. And while you normally had a hard time figuring him out and figuring out what he was feeling or thinking, that look in his eyes had you hesitating. Not from fear or worry or anxiety, even if you tried to convince yourself that had to be what you were feeling, you were just quiet. You tried to speak, tried to move, but you couldn’t, it was like your body wouldn’t listen to your mind. Didn’t want to listen to your mind repeating over and over for you to say something, to just apologize so he wouldn’t look at you like he wanted to eat you. Again.

And then his hand was connecting with the side of your face, mirroring the same way you’d hit him. It stung, you didn’t think you’d feel pain, but you did. Knocked all sense outta you, damn near winded you just from shock alone. But before you could say anything on it, he was gripping you by the side of your jaw, tilting your head up to bring your face towards the dark hallway beside you. The slap hadn't hurt much after you regained your thoughts. Wasn’t even as hard as you knew it should have been, not really. It was more of a surprise than anything else, a jolt that set your nerves alight with a fleeting sting. The same shock you had endured when he bit you the first time.

It was a lesson, some means to keep you in your place, and for a moment you’d thought about mocking his strength, just to try to get the last word. But then his hand moved down your throat, the base of his palm directly pressing against your windpipe, tightening around your throat. Slowly squeezing with a gradual force that made your lungs burn for air. The lack of oxygen began to take its toll, your lungs burning for air as black spots danced at the edges of your vision. A strange sense of detachment crept over you, your mind hazing and blurring as the world seemed to slip away, fading into a distant, muffled obscurity.

For a moment, you’d thought he’d do it. Kill you again. If you can even kill someone who’s already dead, but then he dragged his hand away from your throat and along the curve of your shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss on the base of your head in some way to bring you back to consciousness. You should’ve pushed him away, maybe you should’ve tried running, tried looking for Gramma, but you didn’t. Maybe that’s what changed everything.

"I see why Juju likes you so much,” he slowly leaned his head down towards the bite he gave you, though it felt so long ago. It had healed nicely, or that’s what he had said last night, reassured you that you wouldn’t feel it in a weeks time and that he’d make up for biting you the way he did. “You just let people do whatever they want,” He ran his finger along the mark, sending some odd jolt of tingling through your neck before he was placing a light kiss on it. You could already feel that damn smirk on his lips as you tried to lean back against the sturdiness of the wall behind you. "I haven’t even touched you and you’re already burning up."

“I ain’t mean to hit you.” He leaned back at that, giving you a look before letting his eyes slide down along your body. His hand slid along to the back of your neck to gently guide yourself back towards the wall. He ran his other hand down along the curve of your ribs, gently spreading his fingers out to feel the expansion of your muscles as you took in deep breaths.

“Then why’d you do it?” You weren’t sure why. You wished you could explain that. Explain that you just wanted to, felt like it, you probably needed to. Probably needed some sort of physical touch or some proof to help you understand and cope with this whole fucked up situation. He shifted back against you, one hand resting on the small of your back as he pressed himself up onto you until you was sure he had put all his weight behind his touch. His hand dragged down against your stomach, sliding along the curve of your waist to guide itself to the base of your spine. His thumb lightly ran along the fabric of your shirt, inching down just ever so slightly until the tips of his fingers reached the hemming of your clothes. “I’m not mad Junebug, but can’t start nothing you ain’t intend to finish, hmm?”

You wish it was difficult to remember how it happened the first time. You wished you hadn’t remembered that night. The cool of the bed sheets against your skin as he prompted himself over you, guiding your legs to spread apart as his mouth was latched onto your throat. Biting, sucking, licking, kissing. You wished you didn’t remember the feel of him between your legs, his hips rolling and pushing against yours, his tongue tracing the wound he gave you. His hands roaming further and further down until his fingers were gently pulling at your panties to the side just enough to expose you.

You’d be lying if you said you regretted it, lying if you said you didn’t enjoy every second of it. Lying if you said you didn’t like the feeling of his hands against you, caressing and molding against the curves of your body. His fingers pressing, nudging and spreading your lips apart just to force their way into your mouth. You relived that moment over and over again, the sound of his whispers against your ear, praising you for how well you were taking his fingers into your mouth.

The persistent feeling of him pressed up against your leg. That painful stretch of him sliding two fingers into you as he kissed anywhere his lips could reach. Thrusting those two fingers inside you in a way that burned and had you shifting under him, as he fucked them in and out of you so slow and deep. The way you were damn bear seeing starts as he was curling his fingers inside you once he was knuckle deep, rubbing that sensitive nub with languid circles until you could see the white in your vision. And right when you were so close, could feel that knot in your stomach and the blurry of your eyes got too much. He just stopped. Pulling his fingers out of you just to clean and lick his pruned fingers.

The same hand that was preoccupied with shoving its fingers in your mouth had come down quick across your face again, not like the first time he’d slapped you. Softer, gentler, easing you back to look at him as he rubbed the imprint of his dick down against your bare pussy, readjusting himself through his pants just to get better friction.

He’d kissed you that night more than you’d ever been kissed before. Kissed you after he licked his fingers clean from your essence. Kissed you after he finally pulled his fingers outta your mouth after fucking your throat sore. Kissed you soft and messy as his hands roamed along your body, gripping at your hips to lift you up just enough to smack the fat of your ass and let his hands roam against the skin.

Kissed you after he’d spit in your mouth. Guiding your tongue to move against his until all you could hear was the wetness of your tongues against each other, and it wasn’t until he finally pulled away, a string of saliva connecting you two that he finally stopped kissing you.

After that it was a blur. A long, painful blur.

He’d fucked you that night, and at first he promised he’d been nice and gentle, but as soon as he slid into you, all his promises fell on empty words. He rocked himself into you, slapping you when you were too loud, apologizing for the way he was fucking into you just to praise you for how well you was taking his dick. You would’ve been embarrassed at the sounds of skin on skin and the squelching between your legs, but your body was betraying you again. Squeezing and molding and fluttering around him in a way that had him groaning against your ear, praising you— your pussy for being so eager.

He was only nice after the two of you came. Telling you how good you were and making sure to be extra gentle when he was pulling out. He reminded you up and down that this wouldn’t be the first time. You denied it, over and over again. Told him it was mistake, but he just laughed. Told you you’d feel his absence by tomorrow and be begging for more.

And he was right.

Things changed after that. You weren’t sure when, but you hadn’t understood it. It was slow at first, a change in energy and the air around you. Not from a claim, or a demand. Just from fact. Like it’s something that always was meant to be, something undeniable, something written into the turning of life itself.

Casual, almost dismissive. There ain’t a need to explain it anymore, too difficult to put into words what changed, you just had to accept it.

This time you understood. You felt it before the words even hit, faster than you understood the shift inside you after the turning. You started putting together what’s shifted inside you, inside your mind, because of him.

At first you decided to test the change. Acting out like a toddler who didn’t get enough rest during nap time. Purposefully being resistant, picking fights at the worst times just to push his buttons. You’d push and push and push, acting like you ain’t bound to something deeper now, bound to him through thoughts and emotions. He claimed to know even before you acted out, said “you just don’t want to admit it.” Like that unknown, unspoken connection was instinctive and undeniable.

Said “you can fight all you want. Won’t change the fact that you’ll feel me long after I leave the room.” Like his presence ain’t physical anymore. Not possessive in the human sense, but just absolute. Like it was something deeper than thought, and he was right. Space didn’t exist between you two anymore, you were one, you were tethered to him through some invisible force.

That pull. That weight. That sense of presence before you even see him.

You knew exactly where he was without looking, without thinking, without needing to ask. Felt something settle when he was near, like tension and resistance faded. Could feel him and that heavy air around him before he spoke, like hunger, and awareness pressed into your own chest before the words even hit.

Understanding, even if you didn’t want to, because it’s already written into you, already etched into you bones.

Fury that turns into familiarity, like knowing exactly how to push each other’s buttons before realizing you weren’t pushing as hard anymore.

Glances that hold a second too long, not because of anger, but because something else has settled under it.

Fighting that felt different, less about winning, more about the way proximity shifts, the way neither one backed down.

Moments of silence that aren’t awkward. They’re charged, weighted, they’re pressing with something unsaid.

A stray touch, accidental, fleeting, and electric, but something to feel long after it’s gone.

The way arguments sound different, less biting, more careful, more edged with frustration rather than hatred.

The moment when you’d start to hesitate before arguing, before snapping back at him, or pushing him away, like the instinct to stay has started settling in.

The tension stretching too far, too tight, until it snaps, until it steps closer instead of apart.

A look that said more than words, more than insults, more than what you were supposed to feel.

That one moment, when neither one of you moves, when neither one of you speaks, and everything feels heavier.

It continued in defiance, you fighting him, him not flinching.

The way he hadn’t entertained your anger, but didn’t ignore it either.

You thought the first time would be the last. Told him it wasn’t gonna happen again, but he didn’t say anything, just hummed like he was hearing you but not really listening. It wasn’t spoken about again.

Then the silence between you stretched even longer, not uncomfortable, or heavy. Just waiting on edge.

Moments where you expected cruelty, and indifference weren’t there. It was something steadier instead.

The way he no longer reacted the way you wanted him to, like your rage didn’t affect him. Those insults don’t reach him the way they used to, and there was just something else pressing between you two instead.

The first time he touched you since the turning, not just a hand on the shoulder or a brush of his hand against your hip. But a deliberate gesture, a long touch, not harsh, or violent, but steady, lingering for a moment too long.

The realization that you wasn’t just reacting to him out of hate anymore, but out of something deeper, something more instinctive crept up to you by surprise. You hadn’t acknowledged it at first but it was known.

The way you started understanding him, not his actions, but the weight behind them. The choices behind them. The quiet between them.

Space between the two of you closing. Not force or chased or awkward but inevitable.

When close proximity didn’t result in moving away anymore, there wasn’t a real reason to. It was just comfort. Touch finally carried no tension, just understanding, finality, some kind of knowing that this was what is.

The moments where he doesn’t have to say anything, because the connection between you already speaks, and you’re able to communicate just from looks. Just like how he did before.

And then the second time.

He had you face down against the cool forest ground in the middle of the night. You couldn’t see him but you could feel the way his eyes raked over you, a steady hand resting on the side of your shoulder to keep you forced down against the grass. You rarely had moments like these, after a petty argument that resulted in more yelling on your side and less speaking on his. You were always too proud to apologize, and well, he hadn’t done nothing wrong this time.

So, as most times used to happen, he took his anger out on you… in other ways. It started with gentle touches this time, a slow run of his hand along your back, pushing just enough to have you arched up against his hips.

“You gon’ keep acting up or you gonna give me what’s mine?” Normally you’d fight back, say something sassy just to get under his skin a little more, but it had been particularly uncomfortable ass up in the air. Your neck was tight, all too tense, and you especially hated that look on his face. The one that practically screamed against every instinct of composure.

“Fine.” You knew he heard it the first time, how couldn’t he? But still, he paused for a moment, dipping his free hand under your shirt to roll it further up along your back. You could feel the coarseness of the pad of his fingers lightly tracing the delicate skin along your spine until his hand reached the bottom of your tailbone.

“Speak up now, Junebug.” You tried your best not to roll your eyes at him, digging your nails into the damp dirt to position your cheek against the cool of the earth. You cast a quick side glance towards him, watching him as he stared down at every movement his hand made, like it was his first time seeing.

“Fine.” You spat out quickly, eyes shifting towards the darkness surrounding you as if you couldn’t see right. You hadn’t even noticed the grip he had on your right ass cheek, massaging and rubbing and squeezing before planting a firm slap against the skin.

“Watch that tone now, I’m tryna play nice.” His voice low, a gentle reminder that made it very obvious that his niceness was a relative term. As he spoke, his hand slid down your waist, grabbing onto your hip like you was gonna crawl your way away from him. With a gentleness that contradicted the slap his hand landed on your ass, he guided you slowly, easing you back until your hips were practically glued to his.

You could barely see the way his eyes shifted up to your face, and it wasn’t until he tapped the side of your hip that you tilted your head to look back at him. He was already looking at you, taking in every micro-expression and every flicker of emotion that played out across your face as he grind his hips against yours. You wasn’t sure what he was trying to see, if he was trying to study the way your face contorted in pleasure at the feeling of his dick rubbing against you through your pants or just enjoying the way you looked.

He was gentler this time. Wiped the dirt from your face, leaned down extra careful to press a kiss on your shoulder. Fucked you through your panties, guided you back against his bare dick once he made sure you had already came in your underwear, stuffed you up real good and stretched you out in a way that had you walking funny for a week straight.

It continued to be like that.

Soon as the sun went down, the two of you just naturally found each other. It wasn’t about the sex, not really. It was about the connection, the company, the feeling. Though you hadn’t experienced it before, it felt as though you were a school girl, running off past curfew to hang out with a troubled boy who you had no business to be around.

Except you were forever tethered to that boy.

He had been weird lately. You weren’t sure why, but you should have picked up on the signs as soon as they were obvious. There was this change to him, the same kind of change you encountered months ago.

The life altering change.

He spoke less, told you to always be careful and aware of your surroundings just in case. Every conversation shifted now. A change to where he spoke less, and you spoke more. Not because you wanted it to be this way, but because he asked for it. Asked for you to tell him about what happened when you went your separate ways for the night, asked for all the stuff you swore up and down were boring, but he sat there on the couch, leaning his elbows against his knees, listening intently.

Always kept his eyes on you, more than before. Like he was memorizing your presence and studying every shift of your expression as he urged you to go on and on. Not once did he interrupt you. He just let you speak about what usually happened when you two disappeared for the night, something you never really had the stomach to admit but spoke anyways just cause he seemed so interested in it. Like your words were more important than his.

He never really left your side either. He was just different. Never once told you why he was acting so strange or what happened that night that made him act so differently and seem so tense. It was just change.

Whenever he could, he was always touching you. Placing a hand on your back whenever you two had gone out together at night, looking around the darkness for stuff you couldn’t see, doing things you’d seen older couples do before the turn. Adjusting your sleeve here and there, running his hand along the side of your hip, squeezing your waist like he was tryna make sure you were still there. Held you by your wrist all securely, guiding you and holding you in a way that made it seem like you’d break if he wasn’t too careful. Resting his hand on your jaw, watching you the same way he always did, pressing his forehead against yours whenever you two had sex. Though after a while it wasn’t sex it was something more intimate, something more vulnerable.

He never once said that word you were certain of. The ‘L’ word. One time he had gotten pretty close to it. Told you, “If you go. I go.” At the time you weren���t sure what he meant, it was almost random in the conversation, you mentioned Gramma, trying to go and see her, and that was all he said. Maybe it had a double meaning, maybe it meant more because he said it. But he never brought that up again, and neither did you.

It had been like that for eight nights.

The first and last time you ever made love was with him. It started off as an awkward hug, that half hug you give to someone you don’t really like, but it was the first and only hug he’s ever given you. And then he was sliding down, draping one arm against your hips as he pressed a kiss just under your belly button. You hadn’t heard him at first, his mouth was too busy kissing over your shirt, holding tight onto your hips like you would’ve pushed him away. You opened your mouth to ask him what was wrong, to try to understand why he was so different, but then he was looking up at you, sliding his hands along the sides of your thigh.

“I don’t pray, but if I did it’d be for you,” he hadn’t even given you the opportunity to let his words sit in. To actually soak in what he had just said, and before you could ask, or say anything, he was cutting you off with a slow shake of his head. Like he didn’t want you to talk, he just wanted you to listen. “You don’t ask, but I’d give you anything. I’d bring you anything you needed. I’d give you everything you need before you finish thinking it. You breathe, and I’ll follow.”

You weren’t sure what to say. Couldn’t think of anything to try to reciprocate that response because the most anyone has ever said to you was an “I love you”, and that was only by your Gramma. You were worried, your eyebrows furrowed in a way to have you think faster but he was already carefully rolling down the bottom of your pajamas for some skin on skin contact.

“Remmick, I’m confused.” He looked up at you, and hesitated. For the first time ever, he hesitated. He didn’t say anything, just took a slow inhale of your scent, pressing his face against your thighs before sliding down in between your legs. He planted soft, wet kisses along your inner thigh, stretching them up along your upper thigh and back down to the hemming of your panties. His hands gripped onto your thighs, gently urging them further apart so he could comfortably rest in between them before placing a light bite along the expanse of skin on your thigh. Reaching down to kiss and bite on one thigh before turning his head to do the same on the other.

“Shh, don’t worry ‘bout it, just let me make you feel real good,” his eyes tore away from the sight of what was right in front of him, peeking up at you again just to watch that confusion disappear from your face. You could see in his shoulders that he was still tense, but he was too busy on kissing and marking up your inner thighs to even address the elephant in the room. He moved slow, took his time even though the actual movements themselves screamed of urgency. “Gon’ worship the fuck outta this pussy.”

He was quick to press his tongue up against your clothed pussy, pressing a wet kiss against the fabric. Dragging the base of his tongue up and down against the damp patch of fabric with enough force to have your legs trying to force themselves together again. His hands found their way towards your thighs again, gently guiding your legs back until your feet were propped up on either side of his face. You gasped in surprise as he found that sensitive bud through the thin fabric, forcing himself closer just to try to rub the tip of his tongue against the nub so he could hear that shaky sigh you always made. The rough fabric of your panties chafed against your sensitive flesh, the damp patch growing with each pass of his tongue.

He looked up at you with hooded eyes, humming low and long against your mound, taking quick blinks to make sure he didn’t miss a single thing. You tangled your fingers in his hair, holding him in place as you rocked against him, chasing the friction you so desperately needed.

He tugged your panties aside, exposing your glistening sex to the cool air before his mouth was on you again. His tongue sliding deep into your folds, fucking along the slick walls of your core.

He groaned against your flesh, the vibrations sending little waves of pleasure through your body. His hands gripped your thighs tighter, holding you open, keeping you vulnerable to his ministration. He licked and sucked, his tongue swirling around your clit before drawing it into his mouth to suck again.

Your fingers tightened in his hair, nails digging into his scalp as you ground yourself against his face, riding his tongue with stuttering motions. The wet sounds of his mouth on your sex filled the room, accented by your desperate moans and whiny gasps.

He ate you out like he was starving. Like he was new again and having his first meal. You could feel every ridge, every contour of his tongue and the warmth of his mouth against you, as he continued every as you were rocking your hips against his face, rubbing swollen clit against his lips and chin. The whole thing was so obscene, almost crude, wet sounds filled the air. The lewd schlick and suck of his mouth on your soaked sex echoed through the room like the filthiest thing you’ve ever heard. The vulgar noise mingled with your breathless moans and the slight squirming of your body under his was something that had been etched into your mind. Even now.

Your heavy breathing broke off into a sharp whine as his lips closed around your throbbing clit, sucking on the sensitive nub with a long pop. You couldn’t even speak, back almost arching up off the bed, nails raking down his scalp, your fingers tangling in his hair as you held him in place, your body writhing and bucking against his mouth.

He lapped at you like a man who’d just finished his fast. His tongue flicking and stroking and teasing every aching, swollen fold of your flesh. The sight of him nestled between your pale thighs, his lips glistening with your juices and something between drool and spit had been the prettiest sight you’d ever seen. It was a debauched, erotic vision that forced another knot in your stomach and a familiar ache deep in your body.

You could feel the heat building in your core, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter as his tongue fucked you towards the brink of toe curling ecstasy. It was probably the hardest you’ve ever came, you weren’t sure why, but it had been. And soon as you were done, he grinned at you with slick lips before having his own way with you.

The night was dense, thick with tension, with the scent of damp earth and blood lingering in the air. He hadn’t come back yet. You weren’t sure why, and you weren’t too worried at first, you could still smell the faint leather and wood scent of him lingering off in the distance. But you heard them. Heard them before you could see them. The hushed voices, the slow footsteps, the precise movements that were a little too precise and a little too quiet to be randoms.

You wished you could turn back time. Wished you could have some fear or some rationality to remind yourself that unease was the only thing that had kept you alive. You should have listened to your gut.

Should have ignored the voice inside your head telling you that this wasn’t fear. Fear was useless. It was a calculation, an understanding. A recognition of the moment where the hunt shifted, but you had no real place to run too. The moon was almost gone, the sun was too close to rising, and you could hear that faint ruffle of the animals coming to life.

Then the silence broke, the house creaked, the ground wept. A flicker of movement, a shadow stepping forward, barely visible against the low porch light. Not rushed, not desperate. They didn’t need to be. You were surrounded, and you ain’t even know who they were. Still don’t. But you’ve got a bit of a clue now.

Your gaze shifted out the window, fingers curling at your sides, muscles coiling in tension, the deep pulse of hunger buried beneath something colder. You couldn’t see him, the scent of him was wafting away into the distance somewhere. Maybe you should’ve tried running away, seeking shelter in some idiot’s house for the day, keep moving at night. But you hadn’t.

You stay stuck in the house, cornered like a mouse with no obvious escape and no easy way out. Everything happened in slow motion. Weapons of wooden stakes and guns were drawn, a wall of human blocking the only entrance out of the damn place. You could’ve fed, could’ve tried to, but there was ten of them and one of you. But they didn’t rush, just watched by the driveway, waiting on you to cave before the tension settled too thick.

Not panicking, not surrendering, but everyone recognized the weight of the moment. The weight of this.

“Your kind has roamed freely for too long. That ends now.” It was spoken out into the night air. Like justice, like something deeper than the hunt itself. Like revenge.

You couldn’t run, couldn’t hide, couldn’t feed without getting a stake in the heart. It was over before it even started. Finally closing you in, making sure you understands the finality of it.

If you think too long about it, in some ways, he’s killed you twice.

The hunt happened quick. They burned the house down, stabbed you in the back once you got close enough to chew off just one person. But by then it was too late. The sun was peeking from the horizon, and for a moment time slowed down. You were distracted by the sight itself, the harsh rays of the morning sun as they hit you directly in the face. It was warm at first, a sight you hadn’t seen in months, and for a second you missed that feeling. The heat, the cool warmth that stretched through your body, but it didn’t stop.

Turned from warmth into something sharper, it wasn’t comfort anymore. It blistered, and bit into your skin, burning something quick into you. The body betrayed itself stuck rooted to the ground, through weakness, surrender, just the knowing of what was happening. And you had to let it happen. There was no sanctuary left.

It burned something awful, you could feel the fire eating through your flesh, spreading through every inch of your body with no hesitation.

Everything collapsed inward— nerve endings alight, consciousness flickering, that final inhale before nothing remains.

Not fear or worry, or sorrow, but recognition. You knew the end was always going to come. Just expected it to be peaceful, later in life when you were fully ready. This is just the way it chose.

Maybe you’d felt regret, maybe relief. But there silence, it happened too quick to scream, but the sight was too gorgeous to miss out on. The memories. The people you knew, the ones you lost, the ones who made you keep going. You were ready, you forced yourself to be ready. This is how it had to be. But for that split moment, the moment before you disappeared forever. For good this time. Questions kept repeating in your head, some of anger, some of worry, some of fear.

Had he abandoned you?

Did he run because he had to, or because he chose to?

Did they get to him first?

Was he already waiting for you where the sun won’t hurt?

At first, your brain refused to register the absence entirely, and then confusion took place, warping into something of unease. Not because of the feeling of skin on fire, or the final glimpse of the sun, but because something vital had been ripped away.

Then fear, for him— for whatever fate caught up to him before it happened to you.

But then anger— cause all that teaching had been for nothing. And if he left willingly, if he didn’t tell her, if he thought disappearing was better than staying, you would’ve spent your entirety of eternal life wishing him to damnation.

Finally. Finally, something quieter, acceptance, maybe, or something close to it. The silence was finally normal, freeing, unweighted. Light. Things left behind didn’t matter, they couldn’t matter. Things were different now. They were meant to be. A final change in the air—a subtle shift of understanding. No need for an answer to waiting just beyond. You could be.

A final, broken inhale— brief, clipped, too hot. A sigh that shifted the slowness of the moment and finally brought you back to reality, back to the burning and the pain and the fire. There was no need for a reaction, no need for a scream or a cry. You were home.

And then that warmth. The heat inside you growing and growing until it burst into a thousand suns. Until you faded away into the morning sky.

[beloveds-embrace]

(In which you are a witch living in the woods, and yet the crown’s knights, rather than bringing you to be executed, have taken to protecting you in exchange for your services. Inspired by @nightunite, so all credits to them! (I forgor to add this at first im so sorry </3))

The forest had always been a place of mystery, its ancient trees and thick undergrowth concealing stories older than anyone alive. Deep within its heart, where sunlight filtered in golden beams through the canopy, stood your cottage. Ivy curled up its stone walls, and a garden thrived in the clearing. Wind chimes, crafted from bones and stones, tinkled softly in the breeze, their melodies laced with protective enchantments.

You were a witch, but not the kind whispered about with fear and suspicion. The knights of the realm knew you well- not as a threat but as a keeper of secrets, a healer, and a source of quiet, unassuming power- a companion to turn to when things got rough. You gave them charms and potions, warded them against misfortune, and offered refuge when the weight of their duties grew too heavy. In return, they brought you herbs, rare ingredients, and protection from the crown.

And now, that very same forest seemed to hold its breath as Captain Price approached your cottage, his figure blending seamlessly with the shadows of the trees. You felt the subtle hum of your wards shifting, recognizing the familiar presence and allowing him to pass. By the time his knuckles rapped softly on the door, you were already reaching for the latch with an eager smile.

“Evening, Captain,” you greeted, as warm as the crackling hearth, and stepped aside to let him in. “Come in before the chill settles.”

He nodded in thanks, ducking under the low frame of your door. “Evening, love,” he murmured, setting a small bundle wrapped in cloth on your table. “Brought you some chamomile and wild mint. Picked it near the south clearing on patrol and thought you’d probably have better uses for them than me.”

“Always so thoughtful,” you unwrapped the herbs and inhales their fresh, earthy scent, while John simply watching, a satisfied gleam in his eyes. “These are perfect! Thank you, John, truly.”

Your fingers moved with practiced ease as you began sorting the herbs, placing them into jars and tying some into small bundles to dry. The rhythm of your movements seemed to ease the tension in Price’s shoulders as he sank heavily into one of the wooden chairs by the hearth, his eyes on you and only you.

“Tea?” you offered, even though you were already reaching for your collection of loose leaves. You bustled about, waving a hand with a glittery, starry shimer left in the wake of your movements; teapot and teacups toddled around in formation, going to their stations.

“Aye, tea sounds nice. Thank you, love.” He said, removing his helmet and setting it on the table.

You chose a blend of lavender, chamomile, and a hint of rosehip, brewing the mixture in the pot that had seen countless evenings like this. As you poured the steaming liquid into a cup, you murmured a soft incantation under your breath- just a touch of magic to soothe his weary spirit and exhausted body. A soft ting! came as the spell took hold, and for a split second, wispy hands curled around the cup before disappearing.

“Here,” you hummed, handing him the cup. “For peace of mind.”

Price sipped the tea, his gaze fixed on the fire crackling in your hearth that waved at him. The silence between you was comfortable, filled with the unspoken understanding that had developed over years of quiet visits and late nights spent together.

“Long day, John?” you asked gently, breaking the stillness. Your brows were furrowed, leaving creases in the skin of your forehead.

He nodded, hand curling around the cup, and sighed. “Long patrols, longer nights. The crown’s getting twitchy, and it’s falling on us to keep the peace.”

Your face softened. “And yet you still find time to bring me herbs. You’re too good to me, John.”

He glanced at you, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You’ve done more for us than you realize. The men sleep easier knowing you’re out here, keeping watch in your own way.”

You looked away, focusing on the charm you’d been crafting earlier in the day. Made of braided black thread and adorned with tiny iron beads, it hummed faintly with the protective magic you’d woven into it.

“I made this for you,” you said, holding it out. “It’s for endurance- to keep you strong during the long days ahead.”

Price extended his arm, letting you tie the charm around his wrist. “Thank you, love.” He said, his voice low and sincere. His eyes lingered on yours, a quiet warmth in their depths.

When he stood to leave, you followed him to the door, pausing as he adjusted his armor. As easy as breathing, he tilted his head down as you stepped closer, pressing a kiss to his temple. The bristles of his beard brushed your cheek, and he stilled, letting the moment stretch.

“Take care, John.” You whispered, your hand lingering on his arm.

He nodded, his expression unreadable as he placed his hat back on his head. “I’ll make sure no one stumbles too close,” he said, tone firm- a promise he’s repeated many times, and never once broken. “This place stays yours, and no one will ever know.”

As he disappeared into the trees, the wards around your home seemed to settle, reassured by the promise of the man who had always been your quiet protector. You returned inside, the faint scent of chamomile lingering in the air, a reminder of the steady presence that kept your world safe.

It was not just him, of course, and you eagerly awaited the visit from the other knights who have kept your secret.

Masterlist.

[doodle-pops]

When You Disappeared After A Fight And They Thought You Left Them

Headcanon: Celebrimbor, Finarfin, Finrod, Glorfindel, Elrond, Gil-Galad

A/N: I realised it’s been far too long since I last wrote for Celebrimbor and Gil-Galad. Don’t worry, no crazy angst, just humour, and hurt/comfort.

Synopsis: After a heated argument, you decided to take a walk to clear your head, only to end up getting caught in a storm, resulting in your absence for a week. They, on the other hand, thought the worse until your return.

Masterlist | Navigation

Celebrimbor

You stepped through the doorway soaked to the bone, your cloak heavy with rain, and boots caked with half-dried mud from the trail. Your fingers were numb by the time you pushed open the forge door, the hinges groaning in a way that made you wince. There was a moment you expected anger, or worse, indifference. But what you got instead was the echo of something heavy crashing to the floor, followed by the very loud, very uneven clatter of tools spilling everywhere.

There he was, Celebrimbor shot around the corner like he’d been fired from a war bow. His hair was a mess, half-tied back with soot streaking his cheek, and the look on his face—pure disbelief.

“You—” He stopped dead in his tracks, clenching and unclenching his jaw. Then unhinged as though a dozen words had just jammed up behind his teeth, he took a shaky step forward. “You’re alive?”

You blinked at him. “What?”

He strode to you without hesitation and grabbing your face in both calloused hands, eyes darting over your soaked features like he couldn’t believe you were real. “I thought you left. You didn’t send word. You didn’t—by the Valar, I thought you were dead or that you—” He sucked in a ragged breath and pulled back, fists clenched. “I thought you left me. Because of what I said.”

Brushing wet strands of hair out of your face, you rolled your eyes. “Because you acted like a stubborn ass and I didn’t feel like getting struck by lightning trying to hike back here during a bloody storm?”

He stared at you like you’d grown a second head. “Storm?”

You gestured at yourself, dripping onto the floor. “Yes. Storm. The week-long monsoon from hell? Trees falling, floods, livestock floating by? What, did you think I was tanning in Ereigon?”

He didn’t say anything while his brows furrowed deeper and hand slowly rose to rub over his face like he was trying to scrub away his shame. “I thought—” He looked away. “I deserved it. I said too much. I was cruel. I...I never should have said those things.”

You dropped your cloak with a thud. “No, you shouldn’t have. You were an ass. You said I never understood your work. That I was only here because I liked the forge’s heat and the free jewellery.”

“I know,” he cut in, wincing. “I know. It was vile. I was angry and—”

“No. You were scared,” you said, stepping into his space, glaring up at him. “Because I told you you’re not a god, and your projects don’t get to eat you alive. And instead of listening, you threw that in my face.”

He sagged visibly. “I haven’t slept in a week. I couldn’t. The bed didn’t feel right without you in it. The forge didn’t sound the same. I couldn’t tell if I was hallucinating you or remembering you wrong. And I’d come home every night hoping you’d be here, and every night the door stayed shut.”

You raised an eyebrow. “So...you missed me?”

His expression was dry enough to bake bread. “I was halfway to building a replica of you from spare chainmail links and cursing your name the entire time. So, yes. I missed you.”

You crossed your arms with a slow smirk forming. “And?”

“And I’m sorry,” he said quickly, eyes holding yours. “I’ll never say anything like that again. Even when I’m angry, especially when I’m angry. Because losing you—thinking I’d lost you—it wasn’t just unbearable. It made me realise I care about us more than I care about anything I’ve ever made.”

You held his gaze letting him squirm a moment longer out of a quest for satisfaction, then stepped forward and shoved your cold, wet face against his chest. “Good. Because if I’d made it home and you were off brooding in a cave somewhere, I’d have gone back into that storm and hoped for a lightning bolt.”

Releasing let out a short, breathy laugh, his arms wound tightly around your waist. “Remind me to temper my mouth next time.”

“I’ll temper your ass next time.”

“Already sculpting the armour for that, love.”

Finarfin

You opened the heavy front door, expecting silence. Maybe even the stern face of a king trying to pretend he hadn’t cried into a dozen embroidered handkerchiefs. But what you weren’t expecting was to be immediately tackled by golden robes and a blur of hair smelling like lilac oil and nervous sweat.

He squeezed you so tight your spine protested audibly. “Yavanna’s tits, you’re alive!” he gasped against your shoulder, and you had a split second to marvel at him swearing before your feet left the ground.

“Put me down!” you protested while poking his shoulder. “I’ve just walked six leagues through wet forest—I probably smell like moss!”

Suddenly releasing you, his hands moved to cup your face, eyes frantic. “You disappeared. No word. Not even a note. I scoured the coastline. Sent birds. Rode out with the guards. I interrogated a goose herder because he thought he saw someone matching your description two days ago.”

“A goose herder?” you asked, deadpan.

“Bribed him with a wheel of cheese and four loaves of honeyed bread.”

You blinked. “You bribed a man to tell you where I went using baked goods?”

“It’s what I had on hand!” he snapped, then let out a breath and took a half step back. “Where were you?”

You peeled off your dripping cloak and stepped out your soggy boots. “Nearby village. Storm rolled in hard. Bridge collapsed. I was stuck for days before someone even managed to repair the road out.”

He stared, clearly dumbfounded. “You didn’t leave?”

You levelled him a look. “Of course not. Just because you said I had the diplomacy of a drunken orc doesn’t mean I’d up and vanish. I was angry, not deranged.”

His face went sheet white. “I—oh.” He dropped into the nearest chair like his knees had turned to pudding. “You were just stuck. Not gone.”

“I would never just leave you like that,” your muttered in an obvious tone while crossing the room to plop yourself into his lap, and flick his nose. “Although, if you ever talk to me like that again during an argument, I will exile myself. To Angband.”

“I was furious, and stupid, and possibly drunk on elderberry wine. But the moment you were gone, I felt like a hollow man playing king to a room full of ghosts,” he grunted, voice muffled as he buried his face into your neck and arms around your waist, squeezing you tightly.

“You didn’t change the bedsheets.”

He looked up. “Of course not.”

You softened, fingers slipping through his hair. “Next time, trust me to come back. Storms pass. Tempers cool. But you are my home.”

His mouth curled into a small, sheepish smile. “Even when I say utterly regrettable things about your tact?”

“Especially then. Because someone’s got to keep your golden head from floating too far off your shoulders.”

“I shall make it up to you.” He pressed a kiss to your jaw. “Name your price.”

“Hot bath and food. And I’m choosing the bedtime story tonight.”

He grinned. “Even if it’s the one where I accidentally insulted a goose herder and got smacked with a bread roll?”

“Especially that one.”

“And if I cried into my council robes?”

“Oh, I assume you did.”

“You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

“Not even if Eru himself demanded it.”

Finrod

The halls were obscenely quiet when you entered. The kind of silence that only existed when someone refused to acknowledge anything around them because they were still stewing. The sheer thought prompted another eye roll—your nth number for the week.

Your cloak dripped steadily onto the mosaic floor of the palace, and you kicked off your boots just inside the entrance. You hadn’t the opportunity to make it three steps before Finrod’s voice echoed coldly from the corridor behind you.

“So you do remember where you live.”

Slowly, you turned to be treated by the sight of him standing with arms crossed, jaw clenched tight, and his golden hair slightly dishevelled like he’d been dragging his hands through it for hours. Nice to see how crazy you were capable of driving him.

You raised a brow, returning the same air of authority. “Nice to see you too.”

Striding forward with an expression so thunderous, he stopped a foot away. “You were gone. A week. No word. No message from the servants. Not even a whisper from the wind.”

“I was trapped in one of the nearby humam settlements. The roads flooded, so one could leave, and the villagers were too busy tying down roofs from becoming birds in the raging wind.”

“I assumed you’d left because of our argument,” he pointed out tightly. “That you’d walked out because I pushed you too far.”

“You told me I didn’t understand what it meant to rule. That I was selfish for questioning your council.”

“I said that in anger!” His voice cracked through the room. “And I regretted it the moment you walked away! I thought, give them time. A day. Maybe two. But then three passed. Then four. The storm hit, and every rider I sent returned empty-handed—”

“You sent riders?” you questioned in softness.

“Dozens.” He scrubbed his face with both hands. “And when they found nothing, I thought maybe…maybe you left because I made you feel like you didn’t belong.”

He looked at you with all the sharpness fading into raw hurt. “Do you have any idea what it’s like walking these halls thinking you’ve destroyed the best thing in your life with a few words? I held court with a mask for six days and couldn’t remember what you looked like when you smiled.”

Your mouth twitched. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Entirely.” His tone didn’t even attempt denial. “I was halfway through composing a lament by the fifth night.”

“My goodness.”

“Yes. There were rhymes.”

You made a noise of mock horror. “Please tell me you didn’t sing.”

“I’m not saying I did.” He looked sideways. “But if I did, it was very moving.”

You couldn’t resist snorting. “You idiot.”

His shoulders sagged. “Your idiot,” he corrected, then softened his tone with an ounce of hesitation, “if you’ll still have me.”

Closing the gap, you reached up to cup his face, and his hands flew to your waist like he was afraid you’d vanish if he let go. “I would’ve sent word if I could,” you murmured. “But the weather was horrible. And…I was angry. But I didn’t leave you.”

Slowly he exhaled, pressing his forehead against yours. “Good. Because I love you. And if you had left, I’d have to write a second lament.”

“You absolute menace.”

“Still your menace.”

Glorfindel

Glorfindel appeared in the hallway like the same storm you just faced—wild hair unbraided, tunic only half-buttoned, his expression caught between fury, disbelief, and the unmistakable shine of near-tears. The moment your foot crossed the threshold, you barely had time to shut the door before the sound of his boots thundered across the floor, approaching.

“You,” he growled, pointing an accusatory finger like he wasn’t entirely convinced you weren’t some hallucination conjured by a grief-addled mind. “You vanished for a week!”

You dropped your soaked cloak with a soggy thud and blinked at him, soaked from head to toe. “There was a storm. The roads were flooded—”

“I know there was a storm!” he snapped. “I sent out three search parties! I threatened to punch Círdan when he suggested you might’ve just needed ‘space’!”

“You threatened Círdan?” you cried in utter disbelief.

He threw up his arms. “He was being philosophical at me when I hadn’t slept since the third day! I thought you were dead, or kidnapped! Or—��� his voice cracked, and the rage drained out of him, leaving him standing there looking wrecked and years older.

“…Or gone,” he whispered quietly. “And I couldn’t even remember what the last thing I said to you was. Only that you were angry. And then you were gone.”

Your brows furrowed as you stepped forward, boots squelching on the wood. “You told me I was being ‘dramatic,’ Fin.”

“I meant adorably dramatic,” he muttered instantly, stepping toward you with equal urgency. “You were huffing. Your nose scrunches when you’re angry, it’s precious—and you know I’m terrible with words when I’m angry—”

You narrowed your eyes. “You called me a spoiled elfling and stormed out.”

“…Okay,” he admitted, wincing. “Not my finest moment. But I stormed out intending to return and apologise! I bought apple pastries on the way back! And when I returned you were just…gone. No note. No sign. And then the storm hit, and I kept thinking, what if the last thing you ever heard from me was—was that?”

He looked almost offended when you didn’t immediately throw yourself into his arms to console him. Instead, you wrung out your cloak and calmly replied, “You’re the one who stormed off like you were starring in a stage play.”

There a strangled noise that was somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “I was dramatic. Fine. But—you were the one who walked into the rain and disappeared like some moody soliloquy. You didn’t think maybe sending a bird? A single raven?”

“I tried,” you replied sarcastically. “The damn birds couldn’t fly in the storm. One nearly got knocked out of the sky by a tree branch the size of your ego.”

He opened his mouth. Shut it. Then gave a grudging nod before the silence stretched. His hands clenched and unclenched like he didn’t know what to do with them. Then, with a grumble, he reached forward and tugged you into his arms.

You were still soggy, but he didn’t care.

“I’m not letting you out of my sight again,” he murmured, burying his face in your shoulder. “You’re lucky I didn’t start writing poems in mourning and have every elf in Imladris listen to me.”

You snorted. “You’d write poems?”

“Dramatic and weeping.”

“You really are ridiculous.”

“You love me.”

“…Unfortunately.”

He kissed your neck, desperate and rough. “Don’t vanish on me again. Or I will punch Círdan.”

Elrond

The moment Elrond saw you walking through the front gates of Imladris, muddy, rain-streaked, and glaring at the sky like it had insulted your lineage, he dropped the teacup he’d been holding. Not caring that it shattered beyond repair—as did his composure.

“Where in the Void have you been?”

You flinched, clearly you had been imagining this exact moment for seven storm-soaked days and still weren’t ready for it. “Well, hello to you, too,” you croaked, pushing back your hood. “You wouldn’t believe the week I’ve had—”

“You disappeared,” he cut in, striding toward you with wide, sharp eyes. “Without a note. Without a message. Even without your cloak, for Eru’s sake! And after that—”

“—ridiculous argument,” you finished. “Yes. I remember. Mostly the part where you accused me of never taking anything seriously and that being with you was a responsibility, not a game.”

He stopped in his tracks. “I didn’t mean—”

“You did,” you snapped. “And I was furious. So I took a walk for some air. Then for half an hour before the heavens cracked open, a tree fell on the road, and a lovely travelling merchant shoved me into a barn before I was flattened by lightning.”

“You could have sent a bird—”

“Oh, yes! Of course. Send a bird in the middle of a raging storm!” you exclaimed, flailing your hands in the air. “Why didn’t I think about that?”

He rubbed his face with both hands and made a sound that could only be described as part groan, part sob. “I thought you were gone. Not ‘temporarily cross and got caught in a freak storm’ gone—actually gone. I haven’t slept. I’ve started yelling at the staff. I called Glorfindel ‘ammë’ yesterday.”

You paused and raised an eyebrow. “Did he cry?”

“He curtsied.”

Well, that was the cue that broke you. You doubled over with laughter while Elrond stood there, baffled and tired and vaguely damp from standing outside in his night robe all week like some cursed spirit.

“Look,” you said, voice shaking as you sobered up, “I didn’t plan to vanish. But you hurt me. You said something harsh, I said something worse, and then I got stranded with a farmer who thought my name was ‘Moss.’”

“Moss?”

“I was too tired to correct him.”

Cautiously, he stepped closer with his eyes dropping to your feet. “I am sorry. I was harsh, and worried, and frightened.”

“I know,” you muttered. “I figured that out somewhere between the second lightning strike and the moment a goat tried to eat my sleeve.”

“Come inside,” he said softly while reaching out to clasp your fingers and guide you indoor. “You’re soaked, blue and clearly on the brink of falling ill. Your boots are—are those not your boots?”

“They belonged to a man named Oloron who lost his in the river. We swapped. Don’t ask.”

Stepping closer, he lifted his hand to cradle your face, his warm thumb rubbing your cold skin. “I missed you. The house missed you. The trees were quiet.”

“That’s creepy.”

“It’s true.”

Instinctively leaned into him without warning, and he caught you without hesitation, arms dropping to warm around you like he thought you might vanish again if he didn’t anchor you down.

“Say it again,” you murmured into his chest.

“I missed you.”

“Good. Don’t forget it.”

“I won’t.”

Gil-galad

The halls of Lindon were colder than usual. Not from the biting winds or damp stone, but from your absence, resulting in the great High King from not slept in a week—he barely ate, save for the few times Elrond had coaxed him into chewing through half a honeyed fig like some pitiful, lovesick warlord. All because you two had argued. Loudly.

It first started off a something petty—maybe it was about the council and his constant dodging of your concerns, or maybe the usual ‘you don’t understand the pressure I carry’ rubbish—before escalating. Whatever it was, he’d been dismissive, you’d been furious, and by the time the shouting had stopped, so had your presence in the house.

You hadn’t left a message with the maids. No word. Not even a note. Nothing but a door left ajar and silence heavier than the storm clouds that rolled in that night.

For two days, he searched, storm or not. Rode halfway to Forlond and back with soaked boots and a bruised ego. It didn’t matter that the rain pelted like knives or that his guards warned him of landslides. You were gone. You could have been dead for all he knew, and the last words he’d thrown at you had been, “If you can’t handle this life, perhaps you shouldn’t be part of it.”

Beautiful. Regal. Worthy of carving onto his tombstone, right next to Beloved Idiot.

So when the front door creaked open on the eighth morning, dripping with mud and exhaustion, and you stumbled in with your cloak barely clinging to your shoulders, Gil-galad froze mid-pace on the staircase.

“...You have three seconds to explain before I start wailing like a widow.”

You blinked at him, water streaming off your nose. “I got stuck in a bloody storm,” you grumbled. “The bridge collapsed, the path to Lindon was flooded, and the only inn in the village had one bed, and a family of six already in it. So, I’ve been drying socks by the hearth of an old woman named Sarah who thought I was some war orphan.”

“You didn’t think to send someone?”

“In the raging storm?”

“Birds fly in storms!”

“Yes, foolish Birds who have a death wish.”

He stomped down the stairs. “Do you have any idea what I thought happened? I buried you in my head five times! I thought you were dead, or worse—gone. Just…left.”

“Well that’s romantic.” You threw your arms in the air, which would’ve been more dramatic had you not slapped a soaked glove into your own face. “Why would I just leave?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he barked, sarcasm thick. “Maybe because your husband said something truly wretched and didn’t even apologise before you vanished into a torrential abyss?”

Your glare could’ve melted mithril at this point. “I was going to come home after a day, but then mudslides happened and cows started floating down the river like logs, and some bloody elf thought that was the perfect time to lecture me about duty and whether I’m ‘suited’ for this life!”

He winced. “...Yes. That would be me.”

“No shit.”

You both stared at each other, soaking wet and shaking for very different reasons. But then he stepped forward and flung his arms around you, his warrior-made body weighted upon yours and solid against your weary bones.

“You’re freezing,” he murmured into your hair. “And probably hungry. I left stew on the fire. It’s awful. I overdid the garlic. But it’s warm.”

You stifled a laugh at the absurdity of him assuming you would leave him, unsure whether to cry or punch him. “You thought I left.”

“I did. And if you ever actually leave without a message again, I’ll throw myself into the sea.”

You snorted while attempting to gently pry him off so his attire wouldn’t be drenched and smelling, however, he resisted your efforts. “You’d float. You’re too full of hot air.”

“Not the sweet reunion I was hoping for,” he muttered, burying his face into your neck. “But I’ll take it. Just don’t go running off without me.”

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[jayyluvvies]

Synopsis- Recently you made jay mad by spilling coffee on his important documents and he's been ignoring you ever since luckily you have ways to make his forgive you

Warning- .SMUT MDI. Slight angst, oral (m. receiving) tit job, very slight dacryphilia, deep throating, spitting in readers mouth, hair pulling, spanking, ass up face down, name calling, lmk if there's more

Taglist- @skyearby @17ericas

“y/n? Can you bring me some coffee please, my head is pounding” asked Jay one Saturday night which was supposed to be your weekly movie night but got cancelled as he had work. He always had work. It's almost as if he married his work and not you.

But you agreed anyway cause who’s gonna say no to Park Jay?

You made your way towards his study room and saw him working with some files reading through them, brows furrowed, rolled up sleeves. The things you’d do to him. You cleared your throat and went near him only to trip and let out a small yelp spilling piping hot coffee a lil on him but a lot on his papers and his entire demeanour changed He got up almost immediately out of reflex “fucking hell y/n these are important documents which I had to sign and submit tomorrow!” He yelled making you flinch. He felt guilty but his anger overshadowed it immediately and he just stormed out leaving you pouting and teary.

Which led to now. One week later and he’s still ignoring you, you tried so hard to get his attention and when nothing worked you started your master plan. He went for a shower and you followed right in taking off your clothes and getting in the shower with him and he just stared at you he knew what you were doing, reaching over his shoulder tiptoeing to get shampoo. While rubbing your tits on him? You’re so obvious and he was committed to not letting you feel satisfied so he just let you not showing any emotion on his face. Honestly? He was ignoring to see how long you’d last. He showered quite well enjoying your tits sometimes which you’d rub against him on purpose even going as far as grinding your ass on him while pretending to get something floor the floor. Tsk pathetic really. All you had to was say sorry and he’d fuck the lights out of you.

He gently grabbed your waist pushed you aside and got out of the shower wrapping a towel around his waist and taking another small one to dry his hair lightly smirking at you as he started washing his face and moisturising. You also came out after him dressed in some things and a T-shirt. You knew what you were doing. He knew what you were doing but he kept a straight face and dried his hair. He noticed your hair dripping water all over the floor making him let out an annoyed 'tsk' he hated when the bathroom floors were wet so he took matters into his own hands and dried your hair while you did your skincare. You smirked a bit knowing your plan is working and did your skincare knowing he's gonna cum on your face soon anyway.

As you were done, you noticed Jay watching, leaning on the bathroom door, hooded eyes crossing his arms, towel still wrapped around his waist so low as if it was teasing you. He smirked and spoke in his low, deep, honey-like voice "See something you like princess?"

As he headed out making his way toward the vanity to dry his hair, you followed and wrapped your hands around his waist almost touching the towel which was the only barrier left between you two his eyes darted to yours through the mirror for a brief moment before going back to drying his hair making you slightly annoyed by the lack of attention. So you made your way towards the front and got on your knees tying your hair up he inhaled sharply clenching his jaw but continued to dry his hair hand going through it as if to distract himself from you, who had successfully taken off his towel and is giving gentle kissing on his thighs near his pubic bone sighing into him and he snapped yet kept him composer and gently pushed you away from his dick a string of saliva connecting and breaking as he pulled away keeping the hair dryer down and sitting on the bed spreading his legs "come here darling since you wanna act like a slut why not treat you like one mh?"  you made your way towards him and mumbled a small sorry and sent kitten licks to his tip but he was having non of it and grabbed your hair and shoved you on his cock making you suck him off properly, he was a groaning mess throwing his head back and everything "f-fuck you suck s-so good-OH! Fucking hell y/n" you hummed around him making him shiver and watch you from hooded eyes you looked beautiful messy hair teary eyes god he loved your teary eyes only when they're filled with lustfull tears and hazy eyes.

You knew he was close the moment his grip on your hair got tighter and he immediately pulled away not wanting to give you the satisfaction of letting him cum in your mouth and just shoved you onto the bed getting on top of you and sucking your delicate skin and made his way towards your tits tongue swirling around your nipples even going in for a small bite making you moan and shriek at the same time tugging on his hair as he pulled away looking at you with his dreamy eyes you mumbled another sorry and he just smirked and tapped your ass twice to silently tell you to turn over and show that ass so he can fuck you. You did as he said and he grabbed his dick giving it a few pumps before entering you "god didn't fuck you for a week and your this tight? Let me in baby cmon...relax" he murmured in your ear helping you relax gently massaging the side of your waist.

Once he bottoms out he waits for you to get used to him, "ngh-fuck Jay you can move now" and he starts giving you slow but deep thrusts to tease you, he knew how much you hated him going slow but at that point, you were too fucked out and too touch deprived to care but you did make the effort to wiggle your butt on him so he'd get the indication without having you to say it he just slapped your ass and grabbed your hips and started thrusting in and out quick and fast and hard. Just the way you like it, you felt the heat rising in your stomach "jay! Gonna cum! Please!" You whined and he smirked and took his hand under finding your clit and started rubbing big circles to make you cum "Yeah? Cum for me love. Be a slut and come all over my cock mh?" And that's all it took for the bubble to snap and you came all over his cock he didn't slow down his thrusts reaching his high as well "O-oh fuck that's so hot baby- fuck just s bit more m'kay? C'mon fuckkkk"   he groans as he cums inside you painting your walls white and he stays in to keep his cum inside you and just laid down pulling you into him as he stables his breathing "fuck I should ignore you for more weeks if that's how hot our sex is gonna be" to which you just sent a light smack to his chest too tired to response which made him chuckle and gently pulled out of you to go and get some wipes he turned the tap on to the bathtub and came back with wipes and spread your legs so he could clean you. After he cleaned up he carried you to the tub and lit up your favourite candle and got in as well behind you taking your shampoo and gently massaging your head while putting the shampoo in once he was done he let the shampoo stay in and gently massaged your shoulders just to see you've fallen asleep on his chest

"I love you, you big baby" he whispered and closed his eyes for a bit as well before washing your hair and waking you up gently helping you wear clothes and went to clean the sheets and pillow cases throwing them in the machine and putting new sheets ready for a peaceful night filled with cuddling and whispers of sweet nothings

[byllsbytch]

Cumming home to you <3

Nicholas Alexander Chavez

Ok, it’s pretty shitty, I’ve written this in 30mins, n im too lazy to write smut. (Besides I’m shit at it on a good day.)

here ya go cuties.

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Nicholas Alexander Chavez comes home late to his gf after a long day of filming, after many attempts of trying to get freaky they decide - fuck, we’re both too tired.

Warnings: Girl none?

I’d sat on the couch watching a cooking show, it was the most entertaining channel on at the time and seeing as the night was drawing to a close, I needed something easy to watch. It was my first week in our new apartment and Nick certainly was working his ass off for it. I numerously checked the time on the microwave in the kitchen and watched as the minutes passed.

I pulled the blanket up higher to my chin, slowly fluttering my eyes trying to keep them open. A tough inner battle. Being alone in the house it wasn’t hard to keep them open, when alone I’m always restless, however I was overtired. A wave of sleepiness hit me harder causing me to slump to the side of the couch. The words from the television became unintelligible and I began to drift away.

It felt like it had been two minutes before I woke to see Nicholas had finally gotten home and stood over me, pecking my cheek and playing with my hair.

“Come on princess off to bed.” He whispered. I struggled to open my eyes and glanced at the time again.

“2am! Nicholas! Are you ok baby?”

He smiled at my concern.

“I’m fine babe, just let me get you to bed.”

I mumbled before nick swooped me up in his arms and carried me to bed. I stretched and sprawled out in the centre of the bed before groaning in satisfaction.

“I’m sorry baby, I’m so tired.”

“You’re fine my darling girl. I’ll just go for a shower and I’ll be right back. I’m sorry for coming home late and waking you.”

He walked into the bathroom the next room over and turned the water on.

-

The steam began to snake its way into the bedroom. After a few minutes I managed to pull my dead weight up off the bed and dragged my body to the bathroom doorway staring at Nick’s physique behind the shower glass.

I slowly began to pull off my shirt and kick off my pants. I heard the water turn off and Nicholas got out drying himself then wrapping the towel around his waist. He finally noticed me standing in the doorway in my old, ratty underwear. He bit his lip before coming close to me.

“What are you doing babe? You ok?”

I smirked at him, placing my hand onto his abdomen. He looked down to my hand and smiled closing the gap even more.

“I was going to get into the shower.”

“Oh damn it!” He joked, “Come on baby, let’s just go to bed it’s late.” He lent over and kissed me on the forehead.

I looked up at him and gave him puppy eyes a slight frown.

He looked away. “Oh come on! I feel bad that I woke you up.”

I placed my hand on his cheek before pulling him into a kiss.

He leant in with no hesitation and tangled his fingers into my hair. We both closed our eyes in each other’s embrace as Nicholas began to make his way from my lips down my neck. I took my hands behind my back before undoing my bra. He kept all his attention to my collar bone leaving sloppy kisses. He pulled away sensing the warmth from my breast and stepped back to glance at them. My forearms rested in his, he stared in complete adoration and love.

“You’re so gorgeous and perfect.”

He placed his hands onto my chest before going back into the kiss. I moved my hands down to his towel and gently tugged, teasing him.

“Mhmm” He hummed, nodding in the kiss.

I pulled it off before he lifted me up and carried me back to the bed.

He placed me down delicately before crawling over me.

He was out of breath and visibly excited.

“How was work handsome?” I asked keeping my hand on his face his stocky frame above me.

He stopped puzzled, already panting from the little action.

“Yeah it was alright baby. Long and boring but it’s ok because we’re about to wrap up filming soon. Tell you what got me through it, you. I couldn’t help but think about you all day. I’m so happy it’s over so we can be in this moment right now.”

I felt a grin grow wider across my face.

“Especially the snap that you sent earlier, that REALLY helped me wind down.” He chuckled, winking.

My eyes widened as I gasped, slapping him playfully on the chest, “Nick! Oh my god!” I couldn’t help but laugh and he soon joined in with me placing his forehead against mine.

“You know what this is nice. How about we just do this.”

“Oh thank god!” I said, “I’m so fucking knackered.”

I rolled onto my side and felt Nick press himself up against me, wrapping his arms around me and resting his head into the crook of my neck.

He smirked at my reaction. “Oh ok! You came onto me remember!”

I smiled at him, “Well it’s hard not to.”

“You wanna know what’s hard?”

I turned my head back to look at him grinning before rolling my eyes.

We had some more pillow talk while he continued to spoon me.

“We’re definitely on in the morning, you know that?”

“Oh yes!” He triumphantly pumped his fist.

[wandascrush]

Runaway Bride

Summary: There’s only one person you really want on your wedding day

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Weddings, love, crying, running away, lots of angst

Song: Someday I’ll get it by Alek Olsen

You were out of breath by the time you got there, crisp cold air hurting your chest. Your throat was as dry as sandpaper. Natasha was there, waiting for you like she always was. Your legs were tired from running, broken nude heels in your hands, beautiful and forgotten. The white flowy, soft fabric of your dress touched your body delicately, dragging and picking up the color from the wet mossy grass. Sore legs lowered down to sit on the grass next to the girl who once captured your heart…but she was silent. Just you two, alone. The air was so cold it hurt your bones. 

   You rested your head against the large oak tree that sat behind you two, making a little cove under its branches. So many thoughts were racing through your mind, “I’ve ruined everything. What will people think? I have to say sorry.” But once you saw your favorite spot waiting for you, with your favorite girl, everything melted away. You shouldn’t even be here right now, you shouldn’t have been thinking about Natasha, but she was the only person that ran through your mind. 

   “Long time no see, Natty.” 

    You’ve gotten used to her silence though, it kind of became her new character trait these days. Sometimes you pretended it didn’t hurt anymore, but it always did. A little more each time. Rain droplets started to fall around you, wetting every inch of dirt and stone. More green from the grass started to slowly seep into the beautiful white fabric of your dress. You knew her deep gaze was on you, looking at you with pity…maybe with love? 

   Your chest tightened as you blinked hard, vision blurring, “I was supposed to get married today, you know,” a sad laugh escaped your throat as you played with the fabric of your dress, “I looked beautiful. My hair was done and my makeup was perfect and-I was supposed to be happy today,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “I was supposed to be standing at that altar, looking into her eyes, promising forever. But I couldn’t even say the words. Because every time I looked at her, I saw you. And I hated myself for it.”

 “I’m so tired of missing you. Some strange part of me thought getting married would make me happier. But all I see is you. When I say my vows, it’s your name they’re written for.”

I think of you all the time, now that you’re gone.

    The rain poured down in relentless sheets, soaking through the dress. The sky above was a swirling mass of dark clouds and angry wind. Digging your manicured fingers into the soft mud, it felt like the only grounding thing. The feeling of mud seeping under your nails was the only anchor you had.

   You checked your phone, trying to wipe the rain off of it and realized that you’d already been there for over an hour with Natasha. You needed to get back, answer all the missed calls and texts. This would be the last time you two saw each other…something inside you was certain about it. Shaky legs stood up, using the big oak tree as support and grabbing the bouquet you forgot about next to you. 

   You slowly kneeled down in front of your first love, first everything, and pressed your forehead against her cold grave stone, “If love could have saved you,” breaths came in short, sharp gasps, salty tears falling into your mouth, “you would have lived forever, my Natasha.” Soft lips kissed the engraving of her name as you gently lied the bouquet down for her, grabbed your broken heels, and said goodbye. It took all your strength to not look back as you walked out of the private cemetery.

[makeitmingi]

Let Me In

Genre: Romance, Angst, Fantasy

Pairing: Seonghwa x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Normal!Reader, Vampire!Seonghwa

Summary: He's the second in command of the most powerful, feared coven. But he hides a secret, a human that made his dead heart feel love. For the rest of her life, he promises to protect her from harm, never wanting her to face the consequences of being his lover. Until one day, his hand is forced.

Word count: 8.3K

[Story warning(s): Reader questions herself and her life, descriptions of violence, gore, blood shed, all things vampire. ATEEZ coven members have horrible pasts, experiences with humans and with each other. Please read at your own discretion.]

The moment you entered your bedroom, you let out a tired sigh and leaned against the closed door, your tired body slumping down slightly. The weight of the day was starting to sink into your bones and the aches in your joints were screaming at you.

Today, after a long day at university, you took a double shift at your work place because you knew the later shifts got paid slightly more for closing up the store.

"Never again." You told yourself. Looking at the clock by your desk, you straightened up and went to your window sill.

Pulling back the curtains, you pushed open the windows. You shivered, it was a chilly cloudy night, the moon barely visible.

"I need a shower." You walked to the drawers to pull out some comfy clothes. Although you just wanted to rest, a part of you knew that a warm shower will help relieve some ache in your muscles.

'Maybe I should just quit now.' You thought, leaning against the tiles. You were working so hard to put yourself through university, for what?

"Argh!" You let out a small shout of frustration. Closing your eyes, you grounded yourself and took a deep breath before exiting the shower and getting changed. You tried to towel dry your hair as you shuffled into your bedroom again to do your night time routine.

"Are you okay? Why did you shout? I thought something happened to you in the shower."

"It's nothing..." You mumbled, putting moisturiser on your arms and legs. Once you were done, you gathered your dirty clothes in your arms to do laundry.

"Sorry, I forgot. Come in, Hwa." You said before walking out into the hallway. You heard the heels of his shoes lightly knock on the floor.

"My love, what's wrong?" The male, having removed his shoes, walked over to where you were.

"Nothing. I'm just tired." You shook your head as you poured soap into the washing machine and started a cycle. When you straightened up, you saw the worried frown on his face.

"I'm fine, Hwa. Really." You placed a hand on his arm. His cold hand came up to cup your cheek, making you shiver slightly.

"Look at me." He said. You looked up, meeting his eyes. His own dark orbs searched yours, seemingly trying to find out if you were telling the truth or not. You felt him wrap an arm around you to pull you to his body. His body was cold but sturdy, letting you rest your entire weight on him.

"My love..." He stroked the back of your head to soothe you while your forehead rested against his chest. You closed your eyes for a second, savouring his familiar scent and how much it comforted you.

Seonghwa came to your window ledge every night, waiting for you to let him in. After all, that's the rule of vampires. He couldn't come in unless you let him.

"Let's get you to bed, hmm?" The moment he felt you nod against him, you were in his arms as he carried you to bed.

"Rest, my love. You must be tired." He whispered, keeping you protectively in his hold.

Never in his life time did Seonghwa think that he would be here, holding a human like his life depended on it. But when he met you, something blossomed in him, he's never felt it before.

All he wanted to do was to have you, protects you and love you. Was it really love? Seonghwa wouldn't know, he's never experienced it.

It took him a long time to convince you that he seriously loves you and wouldn't hurt you ever, never in a million years. He gave you space, showed you kindness, patience and support. Along the way, he gave you a purpose, even if you knew you would outlive him.

But you were a secret. Seonghwa's coven was the most powerful and he was the second in command. He couldn't be with a human, he knew his enemies would use you against him.

If his coven faced a downfall, it would be his fault. Because he knew, he would give everything up to ensure your safety.

Would his coven hate him? Kick him out? Seonghwa prays that he never finds out.

But just how did you meet?

Seonghwa was being chased by a vampire hunter after saving one of his coven brothers. He wasn't healing well and he thought that was it, the vampire hunter would end his life.

Until you found him. At first, you didn't know he was a vampire so you brought him into your house. When you realised, you nearly ran for the hills but Seonghwa said he was too weak to even hurt you.

"Will drinking my blood help you heal faster?" You winced as you asked, already fearing the repurcussions of your question. Why were you determined to save this vampire? He's probably killed many humans before to take their blood, he probably doesn't deserve to live and you should just let him die.

"Human blood does help my healing abilities." Seonghwa winced in real pain.

"But... How will you know when to stop?" You asked timidly. What if you let him drink from you and he can't stop until he's drained you entirely? You will be responsible for your own death.

"I won't." He admitted. Right, that totally convinced you more.

"Okay, you know what. Just do it." You sighed in defeat. Whatever fate has in store for you, you're resigned to it. What did you have to live for anyway?

"Are you sure? You could die." He touched your cheek. Was dying sending him into a delirium? Usually, Seonghwa wouldn't think twice if a delicious smelling human was offering herself up to him.

But a part him was hesitant. Looking at you, he didn't want to hurt you or worse, kill you.

"I already said yes, Mr Vampire. Stop stalling or you're making me doubt my decision. Just do it, okay?" You frowned. What was with this guy? Aren't vampire blood thirsty and would readily jump a human for a taste of their blood?

"Okay, come closer. And my name is Seonghwa." He hissed in pain.

"Right because I totally want to know my killer's name." You sighed, inching yourself closer to him.

"Do you have to drink from my neck though? It feels... a little intimate..." You squirmed. If Seonghwa wasn't in such agony, he would have found you a peculiar little human with your questions.

"It's better." He said. Wrapping an arm around his waist, you helped him sit up properly on the couch.

"Now, turn your body towards me and drape your legs over my lap." He instructed. You did as you were told, steadying yourself with an arm around his shoulders.

You pursed your lips at the close proximity, feeling your face heat up. Gosh, he was definitely good looking. Great, have a big crush on the thing that might kill you. You consoled yourself that at least if you died, the last thing you'll see is a handsome face.

"Please be gentle?" You let out a nervous laugh. You shivered as you felt his breath on your neck when he leaned in.

"Thank you." Was all he said before you felt a little prick on your neck and you were out like a light.

You woke up a day later, surprisingly alive. There was a bandage on your neck, covering the 2 small holes. That cemented the fact that it wasn't a dream and you really had an encounter with a vampire.

But you didn't expect him to appear at your window two nights later. Not to take your blood but to thank you properly.

He accompanied you that night, telling you more about himself, minus the gory backstories and details, and learning more about you.

As your relationship bloomed, Seonghwa told you that will be the first and last time he ever took blood from you. He was serious about never hurting you again.

"What's going on in there?" Seonghwa felt you lightly tap his forehead. He grasped your hand, kissing your fingertips.

"Thinking about you." He chuckled. You scoffed, you knew he was always thinking about how the two of you met. Well, you didn't blame him, you didn't think you would by lying here with a vampire by your side either. And somehow, that vampire would be the only source of happiness in your life.

"Hwa, can I asked you, how have you... lived... for so long?" You asked.

"Well, I don't exactly have a choice, love." He let out another small laugh of amusement. You rolled your eyes, knowing he was just teasing you.

"You know what I mean... At some point, have you wanted to just... give it all up? After all, you've lived through everything." You said.

"Of course, after a few hundred years, humans get a little boring." He shrugged.

"Seonghwa! I'm being serious here." You slapped his chest with a small pout. Seonghwa laughed and wrapped his arms around you, kissing your head.

"Alright, alright. Let's put it this way, love. If I did give it all up, thinking I've already done everything there is to life, I wouldn't have met you." He looked into your eyes, tucking your hair behind your ear.

"I wouldn't know what love is, what love feels like. I wouldn't know what it's like to love and protect something so much to the point where you'd willing give up everything for." He said softly, bringing you close to press his lips against yours.

"I love you, Hwa." You hugged him.

"I love you too. So, don't give up just yet." He said, resting his cheek against the crown of your head.

"It's tiring. What am I even working so hard for? I work to put myself through university to get a degree, just to go out and work again." You sighed.

"If you'd just let me help, you wouldn't have to work. Could just focus on university." He pointed out. You lifted your head to glare at him.

"Okay, I know. Bad idea, stupid Hwa. I'll shut up now." He said just as you opened your mouth to scold him.

It wasn't a secret that Seonghwa, as a result of his coven, is loaded. Typical, right? He has always offered to support you financially or just loan you the money but you've always declined it.

"You know that I'll never take your money, even if it's just a loan. If I want to do something, it's gotta come from me. I don't take handouts." You chewed on your bottom lip. Seonghwa looked at you fondly, you were such a resilient human. But he hated how you tire yourself out and work yourself to the bone.

"Love, it's not handout. I'm your boyfriend. Not some sponsor or loan shark. I just want to help you, see you less stressed or burnt out." He said.

"I'll be fine. It's just one of those moments... I'll get over it soon." You groaned.

"You're not alone, alright? I'm here now." He said. Sometimes, it hurt to think that Seonghwa will out live you. He says that he'll be with you forever but what about when you're old and frail?

"Thanks, Hwa. I'm glad I have you." You gave him a peck.

You grew up with your grandmother, never knowing what happened to your birth parents. After your grandmother died, you were left alone to fend for yourself.

You spent your entire life just going with the flow. It was mundane but you never really sought to venture out of your ordinary routine, until you met Seonghwa. Now, your routine is still the same with school and work but Seonghwa visits every night.

"Seonghwa, are you sure you can visit every night? Isn't night time when vampires are the most active?" You asked.

"That's tradition but no. As long as I do my tasks, the coven doesn't really question me." Seonghwa replied. Or rather, they wouldn't dare question the second in command.

"You never told me what your special power is." You said.

"What special power? Where are all these questions coming from?" He chuckled.

"On my way home, I passed by the bookstore and saw someone buying a copy of 'Twilight'." You said. Seonghwa let out a loud groan of annoyance while you snickered, he hates that book.

"In the story, they all have an individual power, besides the speed, super strength and healing abilities." You reasoned.

"I've told you countless times, that book is trash. It's so fictional. Vampires may prefer to work at night because it's less exhausting but I don't sparkle like a diamond when I'm in sunlight." Seonghwa rolled his eyes. You remember how he threw away your entire box collection when he saw it.

"Your hate of the Twilight saga aside. Back to the point, do you have a special power? And what is it?" You asked, an excited twinkle in your eye. Seonghwa cast you a flat look.

"It's late. Can you go to sleep? I'll tell you another time, alright?" He rolled his eyes.

"Come on." You whined.

"Love, you have to wake up for class tomorrow." Seonghwa argued. You pouted but sighed in defeat, giving him a dirty look before laying down to go to sleep.

Seonghwa didn't sleep but he still liked to stay with you for as long as he could.

Your question scared him a little. He didn't want you to know that his leader made him the second in command because of how strong his powers are.

When you woke up the next day, you were alone in bed. Seonghwa never stayed the whole night, you were fine with it. Exiting your bathroom, you found the clothes that you put in the wash last night were hung out to dry.

"Thanks, Hwa." You smiled softly and went to wash up to get ready for the day.

"Don't give up just yet."

His words from last night were fresh in your head. Seonghwa has lived for so long and hasn't given up, your years were measly compared to his. Who were you to give up?

"Let's do this." Slinging your book bag over your shoulder, you headed out the door to go to your university.

-

"Hyung? What are you doing out there?" Wooyoung asked from the confines of the house.

"Just thinking..." Seonghwa sighed. Unlike Wooyoung, Seonghwa has been a vampire a lot longer and has grown accustomed to being in the sun for longer periods of time without feeling the exhaustion or sensitivity. Opening his eyes, he turned around and headed into the house, closing the door behind him.

"What's up, Wooyoung?" Seonghwa questioned.

"Hongjoong hyung is looking for you." Wooyoung informed. Seonghwa nodded and headed down to the basement of the house. He knocked on the double doors before entering.

"Hongjoong, you were looking for me?" Seonghwa greeted the coven leader with a bow.

"Yunho said there are more trespassers coming into our area. I think we should increase the patrol with the smaller covens." He said.

"I agree. When you say trespassers, new vampires? Or-"

"Hunters. Some of them don't really trust the peace treaty we have with the humans. They haven't done anything but I don't want them coming too close." Hongjoong sighed, rubbing his temples.

"I understand, I'll let the other covens know." Seonghwa bowed his head.

Although Seonghwa and Hongjoong have known each other and been best friends for hundreds of years, Seonghwa still threaded lightly when it came to treating Hongjoong like a friend more than a leader. To vampires, ranking was important.

"You okay?" Hongjoong tilted his head, genuinely worried.

"Yeah. Just thinking about the hunters. We can protect ourselves, no doubt. But the smaller covens may struggle." Seonghwa lied.

"They'll definitely use the smaller covens to try and get us. But we'll manage. Can you go with San for tonight's stake out? We could use you." Hongjoong asked.

"You know I don't work with the brawn." Seonghwa chuckled, trying to joke with Hongjoong.

"Would you prefer to go with Wooyoung then?" Hongjoong asked, an understanding smile on his face.

Seonghwa knew that Hongjoong really did care for him and his opinion, which he was grateful for. They had supported each other for so long and grew their coven together.

The 8 members were split into 2 groups, the brains and the brawn. Seonghwa and Hongjoong alongside 2 other members; Wooyoung and Yunho, were the brains. The other 4 members were the brawn, utilised more for their brute strength. That's how they worked so well together as a coven.

"Sometimes I wonder, if we'll truly, ever be able to exist peacefully alongside humans." Hongjoong said, going to stand by his window.

"Human's have literature that paint us as the enemy. That's never going to end." Seonghwa shrugged, trying to suppress the smile as he remembered the Twilight conversation with you.

The coven got their blood mainly from blood banks and human suicides now. Last time, it was different.

"I know it doesn't pardon us from what we've done in the past." Hongjoong smiled bitterly.

When vampires were forced to hunt humans a long time ago, it was truly a war. Yes, some members of their coven have hunted before, for survival.

"There are still rogues, Hongjoong. No matter how much we try to stop them and hunt them. New ones pop up." Seonghwa said.

"Mmm, Jongho caught one going after a child two nights ago." Hongjoong sighed. Seonghwa had a grim look on his face. Even when they hunted humans, their coven never went after children.

"I'll go on a stake out with Wooyoung tonight. We'll keep the border clear." Seonghwa said, patting Hongjoong on the shoulder. He knew that Hongjoong had a lot to deal with, a big burden to carry as the leader of such a powerful coven.

"Thanks, Hwa." Hongjoong smiled. Seonghwa bowed his head before leaving the leader's quarters.

Even though their coven tried to maintain the peace with humans, some coven members didn't particularly like humans after their run in with vampire hunters. That's why Seonghwa keeps you a secret.

"Oh, hyung." San smiled when he saw the blonde emerge from the basement.

"Hey, San." Seonghwa's eyes trailed to the scar over the younger's eyebrow. Just one of the scars left by vampire hunters.

"You spoke to Hongjoong hyung?" San blinked.

"Yeah, he updated me on the trespassers and border issues recently. I'll be heading out with Wooyoung tonight to assess and control the situation." Seonghwa informed.

"Okay. I'll see you tonight then." San bowed and went upstairs to his room.

Once Seonghwa was in his own room, he took his phone out to drop you a text, letting you know that he may not come tonight. Even if he did, he'll be late. It did hurt him slightly, Seonghwa didn't want you to think that he put the coven before you. But that's the sacrifice he had to make to keep you a secret.

'Of course, Hwa. I understand, your coven needs you. You shouldn't neglect your duties. Don't worry about me, I'll be okay. I'll just see you tomorrow night <3 - (y/n)'

He didn't expect anything less, of course you were understanding and told him to focus on his coven's needs instead.

'I love you. Rest well. - Hwa'

'I love you too. Stay safe, alright? And thanks for handling my laundry for me this morning. - (y/n)'

Smiling to himself, Seonghwa put his phone aside. Since he doesn't sleep, he always got out of bed before you woke up and helped you do your morning chores like laundry and cleaning.

Just to give you one less thing to do in your already busy day.

He entered his bathroom to shower. After his shower, he stared at himself in the mirror.

The coven mark right under his right eye. You didn't know that it was there, another thing Seonghwa hid from you. But no one questioned it, it was normal for him to hide it when he's amongst humans.

Seonghwa knew you would ask him why he got it in such an obvious spot. But he didn't want to lie to you again, the truth was that Hongjoong held him down and forced him to get it when he was on a rampage a long time ago.

At that time, Hongjoong was a ticking time bomb. Questioning everything when his own brother was murdered by a vampire hunter. He wanted Seonghwa to prove his loyalty this way.

"I'm going out to visit to meet our neighbouring covens." Seonghwa said as he came back downstairs.

"Want us to come with?" Yunho offered, looking up from his cereal bowl.

Vampires don't gain nutritional value from human food but they always had some laying around to snack on for fun. Some ate it to reminisce the taste of when they enjoyed it as humans.

"It's alright, I'd rather walk on my own." Seonghwa pulled his hood up and left the house.

Just as he exited the house, a truck pulled up. It was the group that supplied their coven with blood.

"Boys, our supply is here." Seonghwa announced. Yunho and Jongho were there in a few seconds, helping carry the boxes of blood packs into the house. Seeing that everything was in order, Seonghwa grabbed a blood pack from one of the boxes and left to finish his duties for the day.

As he walked, he used his fang to pierce a corner of the bag to drink it. Nothing compared to the taste of your blood, the best that Seonghwa's ever had in his entire life time.

But as soon as the memory entered his head, he shook it away before the temptation hit. He swore he would never take blood from you again.

When he drank from you, he knew he was a goner. For the first time in a long time, he felt himself lose all self control.

That was, until you grew limp against him. The sinking weight of your head and body on his own jolted him out of his blood trance.

It took so much will power to pull away from you. He was scared that he had killed you but when he felt your weak pulse, he was relieved. He sat there for a while with you in his lap as he healed.

Then he carried you to bed, tended to your wound and left for the night.

No, Seonghwa didn't love you because of the taste of your blood. That was a separate thing and he didn't let that desire for your blood cloud his feelings. That's why Seonghwa promised to never take your blood again, even if you did offer it to him to satiate his hunger.

Tossing the now empty blood pack aside, Seonghwa looked at the sky, seeing the dark clouds roll in. He was suddenly hit with a heavy feeling in his chest.

Hopefully everything will be okay.

-

"There's been another mysterious killing. The bodies of 3 men, armed with weapons, have been found viciously mutilated. Police suspect that this could be due to gang activity..."

You looked at the television that was left on while you and your colleague closed up the shop for the day.

"Did you see this, (y/n)?" She gasped. You looked up at the television of the crime scene. Although they were blurred out, the weapons found on the 3 dead bodies made it clear to you that they were vampire hunters. From the looks of it, the vampire or vampires made it out alive.

Seonghwa always told you that vampire hunters carry silver as they can seriously injure vampires. It was one of the only things those vampire fantasy books were accurate about.

"Are you done? We can lock up." She smiled, turning off the television. You nodded and grabbed your bag.

"Get home safe." You wished.

"You too." She giggled and waved to you before you parted ways. As you headed home, you thought about Seonghwa. You didn't see him last night.

'I saw the news about the 3 bodies. They're vampire hunters, aren't they? Are you safe? - (y/n)'

'You're right, my love. Yes, don't worry. It wasn't us, one of the smaller covens but they managed to get away safely. - Hwa'

'That's good, I hope they're okay. I didn't see you last night so I wanted to make sure you were not one of the ones that were fighting the hunters. - (y/n)'

'My love, you're probably the only human that is worried that the vampires are okay, not the humans. And you may not have seen me but I, for sure, saw you. Of course I have to make sure you're safe in bed, even if I'm not there to accompany you. - Hwa'

'You dropped by? - (y/n)'

'For a bit, just to see if you were asleep and safe. - Hwa'

'You should have knocked or woken me up. I would have let you in. - (y/n)'

'You know I would never do that. I would not risk waking you, no matter how much I miss you. - Hwa'

'Unfortunately, I cannot come tonight. With the vampire hunters' attack, my leader needs me to help scout out our area and visit the attacked covens to make sure they're okay. I'm sorry. - Hwa'

'No need to apologise. This is for your safety and the coven's, which is more important. And the attacked covens need all the help and support they can get, I'd rather sacrifice my time with you than to know they're struggling on their own. I'll be fine, I'm headed home now anyway. - (y/n)'

'You're such a peculiar kind human, love. - Hwa'

'I'm going to ignore the fact that you just called me weird and focus on the 'kind' only. - (y/n)'

'Of course, you are very kind, that's why I love you. I love you so much, my love. - Hwa'

'I love you too, Hwa. Please be careful and take care when you're facing those hunters. If you drop by tonight, please wake me up. I'll let you in. - (y/n)'

When you arrived at home, you went straight to take a shower, not bothering to open your windows since Seonghwa wasn't coming.

"Laundry..." You were standing in your kitchen when you heard an ear piercing scream, making you jump.

"What was that?" Your apartment building was small and old, you stay on the top floor, which was the third floor. The scream sounded like it came from your downstairs neighbour. As much as you wanted to see what happened, something in you told you to stay away.

*BANG*

Then a shot rang out through the building. It was almost deafeaning. Quickly, you went to lock your door and grabbed your phone.

"Love? What's wrong?" Seonghwa already knew something was up. You never call him because that would risk his coven brothers finding out about you. For you to do, something was definitely wrong.

"H-Hwa, there's a shooting in my building... I don't know what's going on... Something is wrong, Hwa..." You panted, feeling the fear creep up in your throat.

"Seonghwa hyung?" Yeosang frowned in confusion.

"Love, speak to me." Seonghwa ignore the younger as he felt a chill wash over him. You were in trouble.

"Hwa, I think they're coming." You whimpered. Seonghwa's mind raced as he tried to figure out what to do. How did the vampire hunters find you?

"Hold on, my love. I'm coming." Seonghwa promised.

"Brothers, I know I have a lot to explain but right now, I need your help. Please." Seonghwa said to his 7 brothers. Hongjoong, at the other end of the meeting table, raised a questioning eyebrow. In the centuries he has known Seonghwa, he has never seen Seonghwa beg so desperately.

*BANG BANG BANG*

There was a pounding on your door. You left your phone on, sliding it under the bed so Seonghwa could hear what was going on. You hid in your room as you heard the main door get busted down.

"Hello?" You heard a gruff voice as a few footsteps entered your house. Your heart was racing.

"There you are." The bedroom door was forced open and you were cornered, facing 5 burly men, armoured and armed.

"W-Who are you?"

"I'm sure you know who we are, sweetheart. Someone in this building is harbouring vampires. And I'm pretty certain that it's you." One of the males smiled at you.

"Vampires? Are you kidding? Vampires aren't real! You busted down my door just for that?" You lied, trying to keep your cool.

"Lying doesn't help your case. If you really don't know what we're talking about, I'm sure your vampire wouldn't mind us sticking around, huh?" The man chuckled. You closed your eyes as you braced yourself for impact.

"A HUMAN?!" San roared, almost stopping in his tracks when he heard Seonghwa tell the group that you're a human.

"Yes, I'm in love with a human. And she needs me right now. I'm the reason she's getting hurt." Seonghwa said as they ran from their home to your house, following Seonghwa's guide.

"Seonghwa-"

"I promise to explain myself later. You can kick me out, banish me, whatever. I just need your help, I need her to be okay. Please, Joong." Seonghwa begged.

"Okay, you owe us that." Hongjoong frowned. He wasn't happy either, feeling betrayal bubble within him.

"Wooyoung, whatever happens. I want you to take her out of there. Make sure she's safe. Please, I trust you." Seonghwa said.

"Alright, hyung. I promise, I'll protect her." Wooyoung agreed, albeit reluctantly. He was here because of Seonghwa. He hated that Seonghwa was reduced to such a state, the one that took him in. But it was what he owed the older, even if this human might be the reason that Seonghwa has to leave the coven.

"Third floor." Seonghwa pointed. Instead of using the window, Seonghwa knew the 8 of them couldn't fit and used the door. Seonghwa stood at the threshold where the door was knocked down.

Seonghwa's eyes turned red as his eyes fell on you, barely conscious, bloodied and bruised, in the hands of the vampire hunter. You were losing consciousness.

"(y/n)!" Seonghwa shouted.

"There you are." The 5 hunters turned to the 8 vampires standing there. You weakly turned your head.

Seonghwa was almost unrecognisable, in a fur hood with a mark beneath his glowing red eyes. You couldn't make the rest out, you guessed they were his coven brothers.

"Love, let me in!" Seonghwa screamed. You looked at how the hunters were aiming their weapons at the 8 vampires. With Seonghwa standing right in front, you didn't want to let him and his brothers in, they could get hurt.

"Love, please! I'm begging you, let me in! PLEASE!" Seonghwa screamed for you, tears falling down his cheeks.

"Let's fight this fair and square." Hongjoong said to the hunters. He exuded so much dominance and power, you automatically knew he was the coven leader.

"Sure. If you can come in." The hunters shrugged and dropped your body to the floor like you were nothing.

"(y/n). If you die now, I'm killing myself right now!" He threatened you.

"Alright... Come in." You breathed painfully. The 8 hooded vampires entered your tiny apartment, bringing their powers with them.

"Seonghwa, don't kill all of them. We need 1 for information." Hongjoong said but Seonghwa couldn't hear anything. All he wanted to do was kill them. But the hunters weren't going to back down.

"Hwa..." You called out but your words came out in a whisper. Your body felt heavy, you couldn't seem to control it.

"Wooyoung, get her out of here." Seonghwa grunted as he dodged a silver bullet. Seonghwa couldn't use his power with you around, he didn't want you to see how he can use his powers on others. You felt yourself get lifted up, meeting the fox-like eyes of one of Seonghwa's coven brothers.

"No... Hwa..." You whimpered.

"Seonghwa hyung will manage. I need to take you to safety. Sleep now." His voice was so calming you slipped into unconsciousness.

"Wake up."

A voice spoke to you, making you open your eyes. You gasped and sat up, finding yourself surrounded by 7 vampires that honestly looked upset with you.

"Human, you've not recovered. But we woke you up because we need you to heal Seonghwa." You remembered his name, Hongjoong, said.

"Don't try anything funny." One of them with an eyebrow scar flashed his fangs at you.

"San, go to your room. You're not needed here." Hongjoong waved the aggressive vampire off, making him storm out of the room. He then turned back to you.

"What happened to Seonghwa?" You asked.

"He was hit bad and we removed the silver but his healing is compromised and slow. He needs fresh blood to heal or he'll die. Considering you're the reason he's in that situation, you should be the one of give him blood." Hongjoong spoke.

"O-Of course." You said. Hongjoong's words cut deep but they held nothing but the truth. You knew his relationship with Seonghwa goes way back, they've known each other forever.

"Mingi, carry her to my room." Hongjoong ordered. A tall male came forward, his face expressionless as he easily lifted you up.

"Hwa!" You nearly leapt out of his arms when you saw the state Seonghwa was in.

"My... love... You're... okay..." Seonghwa smiled weakly as Mingi sat you down in the chair beside Hongjoong's bed. You leaned forward to hold his hand, pressing it against his cheek.

"Thanks to you and your brothers. I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, Hwa." You cried against his hand.

"Silly girl... What's there... to be sorry about...? I told you... I'll always p-protect... you..." He winced. You heard Hongjoong clear his throat from behind you, reminding you why you were here in the first place.

"Hwa, you're dying. Drink from me, it's the only way you'll heal properly." You said.

"No." He didn't even hesitate or wait to answer.

"Hwa, please. You're here because of me. You have to!" You sobbed. Now, it was your turn to beg him. Seonghwa swallowed, resting his hand on your head as you cried. He met Hongjoong's eyes, knowing he must be the one that convinced you to do this, telling you that it was your fault that Seonghwa's dying.

"It's not... your fault..." He said.

"I can't let you die, Hwa. You hear me? You cannot die before me. If you don't drink from me, I'll forcefully make you drink from me." You shouted at him.

"You're also recovering... human bodies are fragile... You can't handle me... taking from you..." He told you.

"I may kill you." He looked into your eyes.

"Hongjoong will stop you before you kill me. You can, right?" You turned to Hongjoong, who shrugged but nodded his head. If that will convince Seonghwa to drink from you, he'll agree.

"Please, hyung! You can leave the coven and be with a human, for all I care, but you cannot die." Wooyoung begged.

Suddenly, you grabbed the dagger from the holster of the person closest to you, pointing it at yourself. All the vampires in the room, including Seonghwa was shocked, unsure of what they should do. Seonghwa stared at you with wide eyes.

"My love... What are you... doing? Don't... be rash..." Seonghwa coughed as he didn't have the strength to stop you now.

"Hwa, you begged me to let you in... You said you'll kill yourself if I die. I'll kill myself too if you die." You threatened, bringing the dagger closer to your neck.

"Fine. Just put the dagger down." Seonghwa frowned.

"All those who won't control yourselves, leave now." Hongjoong ordered. A few of them left the room.

"Yeosang, help her up." Hongjoong instructed. You were lifted up again. The best position without Seonghwa having to move much was for you straddle him and lean down.

"You can hug me... I'm... not that... fragile... It's okay to be afraid... But don't be, my love... It's just me, your Hwa... Hmm?" Seonghwa chuckled, weakly reaching a hand up to stroke your cheek. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your body was now just laid over his. His own arms moved to drape over your lower back.

"I'm sorry." Seonghwa pressed a light kiss to your cheek. You tilted your head away, presenting your neck to him.

When Seonghwa bit down, you squeezed your eyes shut, trying not to let any sounds of pain and discomfort out, anything that'll deter him from drinking.

"I love you..." You forced out before your world faded to black.

-

"My love." Seonghwa entered his room. You have been unconscious, laying in Seonghwa's bed, for a week already.

As he feared, Seonghwa took too much from you and needed Hongjoong and Yeosang to tear him away from you and knock him unconscious so he wouldn't kill you.

But even so, the toll was too much on your already injured body so right now, you needed to rest.

"It's been a week. Are you resting well?" He whispered, kissing the back of your hand. You were always warm compared to how cold he was. He smiled softly, reaching over to make sure your hair was not bothering you.

"Take all the time you need, my love. I'll be here." He kissed your forehead. He ignored the sting he felt, he was the reason you were laying there.

After Seonghwa recovered, they sat down to talk. They didn't want to kick Seonghwa out of the coven but some members were uncertain about having a human coexist with them within the same space.

San, Mingi and Yunho were the ones that avoided Seonghwa for now. The decision was left up to them.

And safe to say, Hongjoong still hasn't spoken directly to Seonghwa too. The only time was to tell Seonghwa that no matter the decision, you and he can stay in the house until you have recovered.

"Hyung. Is she okay?" Jongho came in. He was the one with the contact for a doctor that was a vampire, to come check on you.

"Still the same." Seonghwa sighed, his eyes not leaving you.

"What's your plan, hyung?" Jongho asked as he crossed the room and took a seat by the desk that Seonghwa had in the room. It kept a distance between the two of you.

"I don't have the right to ask any of you to live with a human, knowing what some of you have been through with hunters. So I'll do what's best for the coven. But no matter what, I can't leave her. I cannot continue to exist without her." Seonghwa smiled softly as he looked at your peaceful face.

"But she'll die, hyung. Maybe not now but she's human. At some point, she'll die." Jongho stated.

"Then I'll be by her side when the time comes." He said firmly.

"You really love her?" Jongho sat up.

"I thought I experienced everything there is to life, seen all there is to see. But when I met her, everything I experience with her was so new. So yes, I love her more than life." Seonghwa replied.

"You love her so much that you're willing to leave us?" There it was. The stabbing question.

"Jongho, you know this decision isn't easy. I love all of you, you've been my family for so long, especially Hongjoong. But I can't, I can't leave her. I don't want to have to decide between all of you and her."

Not saying another word, Jongho stood up and left the room. Seonghwa moved to lay beside you, carefully moving your body so that you laid on his shoulder and he cradled your body. He buried his face in your hair.

"I'll take care of you forever, my love. As long as you're with me, everything else doesn't matter." He held you to his body.

With how half the coven avoided him, Seonghwa mostly kept to his room. He guarded you, not that he didn't trust his brothers, but he just felt the need to make sure you were safe.

So when you woke up another week, Seonghwa was there. He nearly cried as he showered you in kisses.

"I thought you left me." He said, his forehead pressed to yours.

"I would never." You giggled. He wrapped his arms around you, hugging you to his chest. When you pulled away, you reached out to touch his cheek, specifically the mark under his eye.

"You've hid this." You said but your voice held no anger. Seonghwa placed his hand on top of yours.

"It happened a long time ago. It's the mark of the coven." He explained with a soft smile. You nodded, rubbing your thumb over it gently. You and Seonghwa shared that moment together in silence, emotionally connecting and healing after everything the two of you have been through together.

"You looked so different when you came to the apartment. When you pulled down your hood and your eyes were glowing red, I've never see them like that before." You said to him.

"I didn't scare you, did I?" He frowned in worry.

"Was I scared? A little. But I knew you would never hurt me." You smiled softly.

"That's right." He kissed your knuckles. Seonghwa seemed to be thinking about something but you didn't point it out, not wanting to pressure him into telling you more.

"Love, I think I should tell you about my power. But I need you to promise me that you won't hide from me. Anything, any doubt, you'll ask me, can you do that?" He spoke gently. You nodded your head.

"The reason I'm second in command... is that I can control and manipulate minds." Seonghwa said.

"What does that mean?" You tilted your head.

"I can control the minds of those around me. I can manipulate them to make them think differently, see differently, act differently without them even knowing. There's no way of stopping me from entering their minds." He revealed.

"So... you can like... make people kill each other...? Take over their minds and control them?"

"Yes, in the worst possible way. I can do anything to them as long as they are within my reach. Humans, especially, are more fragile with their minds so they're easier to manipulate." He explained.

"H-Have you ever..." You didn't even want to ask that, it sounded wrong coming out of your mouth.

"My love, I swear on my life, I have never used my power on you. Not once." Seonghwa shook his head frantically, knowing you would ask.

"Okay, I believe you, Hwa." You nodded with a loving smile.

"But what's going to happen to you, Hwa? Your coven knows about me now. I'm so sorry." That was what you were mainly worried about. Seonghwa lifted you to sit on his lap.

"Hey, nothing for you to apologise for. This is my fault, I'm the reason you were targeted in the first place. I told them to decide if I should stay or go. But no matter what, I'm keeping you with me." He informed.

"Hwa, maybe-"

"I don't even want you to finish that sentence, don't even have such a thought in your head. You should know that I'm never leaving you. If they're fine with me staying, you're staying with me. If they're not comfortable, I'll leave and take you with me." He wrapped his arms around your waist.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

"Seonghwa hyung, we all need to talk... When you're ready... Downstairs... You may bring her." Yeosang's voice sounded on the other side of the door before you heard his retreating footsteps.

"Hey, hey. It's alright. They won't hurt you, hmm? I won't let them." Seonghwa held your cheeks, planting a kiss on your lips.

"Okay." You whispered. Seonghwa helped you out of bed. He slipped his arm under you to help you down.

All 7 heads whipped around to you the moment you stepped out, your scent filling the whole room. You shrunk back slightly but Seonghwa squeezed your hand reassuringly.

Seonghwa pulled a chair out for you to sit by his side. The other 7 coven members sat at the other end of the table.

This was the first time you were face to face with Seonghwa's coven brothers. You gulped, you felt like your heart was pounding in your ears. You squeezed Seonghwa's hand under the table. Everyone stared at you except Hongjoong, who stared at Seonghwa.

"I'm guessing this is to discuss the coven's decision." Seonghwa broke the silence first.

"Hyung, you can't leave. We need you." Yeosang blurted out.

"Yeosang, you know if I stay, she stays with me. I need you all too. But I also need her." Seonghwa said. You grew conflicted, hearing the coven member's words.

You loved Seonghwa more than life but they needed him. Seonghwa can't leave them, eventually you'll die and he'll be alone. If he stayed with them, they'll accompany him for as long as he lived.

"You sure are self sacrifical, human. Not many humans are like you." Hongjoong spoke, having read your mind.

"What?" Seonghwa frowned.

"She'll die and she doesn't want to leave you alone. She wants you to stay with us. She knows and understands the reality, Hwa. Something you don't seem to get!" Hongjoong slammed his palms down on the table, causing you and the other 6 vampires to flinch. But Seonghwa didn't react.

"When I spoke about coexisting with humans, I didn't mean go out and love one. Betray your family. The ones who have been here." Hongjoong glared.

"Hongjoong, you know I didn't do it to intentionally betray you. Any of you." Seonghwa sighed.

"Can't you turn her?" Wooyoung asked.

"No. Not now... Not yet... It's too soon... I-I can't do that to her. It's too much, all of you should know that." Seonghwa looked all of them in the eye. Seonghwa couldn't just turn you, it wasn't fair to you.

"She saved me when I was saving Mingi from the hunters. She's not like the other humans." Seonghwa revealed.

Mingi flinched at the memory, remembering all the lives lost that night and how Seonghwa sacrificed himself so that Mingi could escape the hunters.

"Give her medal of honour then." San said sarcastically.

"San... I know this isn't fair on any of you. Especially after what many of you have been through with hunters. That's why I left the decision on whether I stay with the coven up to you. The only thing that doesn't change is that (y/n)'s with me." Seonghwa still spoke calmly.

"Enough. I've spoken with all the coven members separately. Many of them have... reservations but left the final decision up to me." Hongjoong told Seonghwa.

"Really?" Seonghwa looked at San, Mingi and Yunho.

"It's too big a decision. Hongjoong hyung has been the leader for centuries, we trust his decision. Even if it's not favourable." Yunho said.

For a few seconds, the room fell into silence again as they waited for Hongjoong to speak again. You swear you were going to pass out from this. You felt like time had just stopped.

How would you live with yourself if you were the reason Seonghwa leaves his coven or that it gets broken up?

"Hwa, I-" You were about to pull your hand away from Seonghwa's but he just gripped it tighter. No, he wasn't going to let you go.

"Seonghwa, you've been with me the longest, even before we had this coven. And we've been through a lot together, everything. And yet, I've never seen you more concerned, to the point where you'll beg us, over anything... I'd never expect it to be a over a human." Hongjoong said.

"I know you're loyal, Seonghwa. You've proven it time and time again. I know you wouldn't put us in danger." Hongjoong continued. Seonghwa reached up to touch the coven mark under his eye.

"This will be like a probation period. You and her can both stay. But she'll stay in the guest house, not here." Hongjoong said.

"That's fair." Seonghwa replied. Hongjoong stood up and the other 6 vampires moved to give their leader space. Casting you one last side glance, Hongjoong walked away.

"Come. You should rest more." Seonghwa turned to you.

"I-I..." You stuttered, not sure what to say or how to react. Yunho led San out of there.

"Sleep."

Soon, you fell against Seonghwa's chest. Seonghwa's eyes widened as he turned to Wooyoung, the other mind controller in the group. Although, not as powerful as Seonghwa. Hongjoong wasn't a mind controller but one of his powers let him read minds.

"I'm sorry, hyung. She's been anxious and stressed the entire time. It was deafening." Wooyoung apologised. Surprisingly, with the help of Jongho, Seonghwa was able to move your body to lift you.

"Thank you, Wooyoung. But please don't do that again." Seonghwa brought you up to the room.

"Hyung." Mingi stopped Seonghwa in his tracks.

"You really love her that much?" Mingi asked, the strain in his voice indicated how hard it was for him to ask that. A part of him in denial.

"I do." The older replied and continued his way up the stairs and into his bedroom. Soon, he'll have to prepare to move to the guesthouse behind their main house.

But for now, Seonghwa didn't want to think about what your future would be, what happens after Hongjoong's 'probation period'. He's just content that he still has you and can protect you properly. Hopefully, his coven will soon be more accepting of you, that they'll see how different you are from the other humans.

And you'll be able to be together for the rest of your mortal life.

~

Masterlist

[jose996c]

Home in the Dust

Summery: Javier Peña returns to his family’s ranch in Texas, hoping to escape his troubled past. There, he meets you—his father’s hard-working ranch hand. As old wounds are reopened and sparks fly, a quiet connection grows, offering a chance at redemption and love.

Warnings: Fluff, romance, flirting, mutual pining, slow-burn, Javier’s past, hurt/comfort. Each chapter will have more specified warnings.

Paring: Javier Peña x f!reader

Word count: 1,7k

A/n: sorry this first chapter is so short, I plan on making the others at least 3-5k words <3 i think i'm going to write around 5-6 chapter maybe. Let me know if you have any ideas for the upcomming chapters.

Chapter One: Dust and Leather

The sun beat down with a kind of relentless heat, even in the late afternoon. Texas heat wasn’t just hot—it felt like it had a purpose, like it wanted to push its way under your skin and crawl into your bones. Javier Peña felt it first in the back of his neck, then the dampness seeping into the sleeves of his shirt, the weight of it pressing down even before his boots hit the dirt.

The old Ford coughed once before rattling to a stop in front of the house. Javier sat still for a moment, fingers tight around the steering wheel, staring at the house like it might crack open and give up all its secrets. The place looked smaller than he remembered—diminished, like it had been waiting for him to return but wasn’t sure it still wanted him here. The porch sagged more now, and the shutters were peeling, giving up the fight against time. The oak tree by the corner still stood tall, its branches swaying lazily like it had all the time in the world. Same as always, but not really. Not anymore.

He crushed the cigarette in the ashtray and finally stepped out, boots hitting the dry dirt with a dull thud. Gravel shifted under his weight as he stretched, wincing at the pull in his shoulders. His back was already stiff from the drive. Or maybe just from being alive too long.

A screen door creaked open behind him.

“You look like shit,” Chucho said, his voice dry as dust.

Javier shot a glance over his shoulder, masking the tightness in his chest with a smirk. "You always this happy to see me, Pop, or is this your version of a warm welcome?"

Chucho didn’t bother with a hug. Just leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes squinting against the sun. “You were supposed to be here this morning.”

“Got stuck in San Antonio. Traffic.”

“You stopped at that diner, didn’t you? The one with the bad coffee and even worse bacon.”

Javier didn’t answer, which was answer enough.

Chucho shook his head and waved him in. “Come on. Got someone I want you to meet.”

The sun was beating down hard as Javier followed his father toward the barn, the older man walking with the same determined shuffle he’d always had—slower now, but just as stubborn.

“You still using the same feed supplier?” Javier asked, mostly to fill the silence.

Chucho waved a hand. “Yeah. Got a good deal since she started working here.”

“She?”

“You’ll see.”

The barn door creaked as they stepped inside. You were knee-deep in feed bags, hauling one over your shoulder when you heard the footsteps.

“Hey,” Chucho called. “Got someone I want you to meet.”

You turned, brushing hay from your shirt, and paused when you saw the man standing beside him. The sun from the open door haloed his figure—tall, tan, slightly road-worn, with that weary, watchful look of someone who’d seen too much.

Chucho gestured between you two. Javier gave his father a look, then turned to you and offered a faint nod. “Javier Peña.”

You adjusted your grip on the bag and nodded back. “I figured.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’ve got the same scowl.”

That earned the tiniest smile from Chucho, who leaned against the stall like he was enjoying himself far too much.

You gave Chucho a dry look, then offered your hand to Javier, dust and all. “I’m the one keeping this place from falling apart.”

He took it—his grip firm, warm, a little calloused. “Appreciate that.”

Chucho clapped his hands once. “Good. Then you can help her haul feed before you start thinking you’re here for vacation.”

Javier muttered something under his breath that sounded like ‘Jesus Christ.’ You bit back a grin and handed him a sack.

“Welcome home, Peña.”

You didn’t talk much after that. You handed him tasks, and to his credit, he didn’t complain. He was slower than you, less practiced with where to put his weight, when to pull versus push. But he didn’t give up.

When the horse kicked at him for getting too close too fast, you tried not to laugh. You mostly succeeded.

“Got a hell of a kick on her,” he muttered, rubbing his thigh.

“She doesn’t like strangers.”

“Figures.”

You gave him a once-over. “You really haven’t been back much, huh?”

He didn’t answer.

Didn’t have to.

Later, inside the house, dinner was already on the table—a simple spread of tamales, beans, and sliced tomatoes from the garden. The kitchen smelled like cumin and warm corn, and despite the heat, it was the kind of smell that made your stomach remember how long it’d been since lunch.

Chucho didn’t say much as you all sat down. He handed out plates, scooped food like it was a job, then settled in at the head of the table with a grunt. Javier took the seat across from you, his shirt still sticking to him in places from the work, arms dusted with hay and effort. He looked like he didn’t quite know what to do with himself inside four walls.

You passed him the beans. “You planning on glaring at the food or eating it?”

His lips twitched, just slightly. “Trying to remember if I like beans.”

“You do,” Chucho said flatly. “You just used to drown ‘em in hot sauce.”

“Still do,” Javier muttered, reaching for the bottle beside the salt shaker.

There was a moment of clinking cutlery and chewing. Chucho poured himself a shot of something amber and didn’t offer it to anyone else. The silence stretched—not awkward, but filled with unspoken things. You knew the shape of grief when it sat at the table. This one was worn and familiar, like a guest no one wanted to name.

“So,” Chucho said eventually, “you planning on staying more than two nights this time?”

Javier didn’t look up. “I don’t know yet.”

“Didn’t figure you would.”

You bit into a tomato, letting the acidity keep you from jumping in. This wasn’t your conversation. Not really.

Javier finally met his father’s gaze. “I came back, didn’t I?”

“Doesn’t mean much if your bags stay packed.”

The words landed sharp, and you could feel the weight of them even from across the table. Javier set his fork down and leaned back in his chair, one hand scrubbing over his jaw.

“I didn’t come here to fight, Pop.”

Chucho leaned back too, folding his arms. “Then maybe talk like someone who’s not looking for the nearest exit.”

You stood then, gathering your empty plate. “I’ll get the dishes.”

“No,” Chucho said, not looking at you. “Leave ‘em. Let the man earn his keep.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You want Javier to wash dishes?”

“I hauled feed,” Javier said with a shrug. “Might as well go for the full experience.”

You handed him your plate with a little smile. “Don’t forget the pots.”

He shook his head but took it without complaint. When you passed behind him on your way out, you caught a faint mutter under his breath.

“I’ve been home six hours and already getting bossed around.”

You leaned in just enough for him to hear. “Maybe you need it.”

Outside, the air was cooler, the sun sinking fast. You paused on the porch, listening to the faint sound of water running in the kitchen and the occasional clatter of dishware. After a few minutes, the door creaked open behind you.

The silence between you stretched—not uncomfortable, just thick with heat and dirt and whatever was hanging heavy in Javier’s chest.

“You always this quiet?” you asked eventually.

He glanced at you, expression unreadable. “You always this talkative?”

“Only when someone looks like they might implode from unspoken angst.”

That earned a huff. Could’ve been a laugh, if you were generous.

“I didn’t ask to come back,” he said, eyes on the horizon. “Just seemed like the right thing. Eventually.”

You looked down at your bottle. “He missed you. Even if he’d rather die than say it out loud.”

“I missed him too,” he said, voice low. “But it’s hard coming back to something that doesn’t fit anymore.”

You nodded slowly. You got that. Maybe not in the same way, but enough.

“This place’s like a pair of old boots,” you said. “Tight, dusty, and always giving you blisters. But you learn to live with ‘em.”

Javier turned to you fully, brow raised. “That supposed to be comforting?”

You smirked. “No. But it’s true.”

The cicadas had started up. The air was thick with the scent of hay and warm wood and tobacco smoke from Javier’s shirt. You didn’t lean closer. Neither did he. But the space between you felt charged, like something waiting to spark.

You finished your beer and stood.

“Back to it early tomorrow. Don’t oversleep.”

He looked up at you, eyes sharp despite the exhaustion.

“Was that a threat or an invitation?”

You grinned, just enough to leave him guessing.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

You disappeared into the house, leaving him alone with the quiet creak of the porch and the first stars winking through the darkening sky.

For the first time in a long time, Javier didn’t feel the need to leave.

[majeoeje]

Thousand suns

Tanjiro X Reader

I'd give you my heart even if i knew you’ll break it

He changed you. In was subtle and painfully slow, but it was far too late for you once you realized the hold that Kamado Tanjiro had on you. He practically got you wrapped on his fingers without him realizing

"I accidently bought an extra haori, on my last mission, i thought it would look nice on you" he said, with that priceless smile of his

Now you never left the house without it.

"That's a really beautiful hairpin [name], it suits you well!"

Now you always wear it.

"I love how this tea is so fragrant, thank you so much for bringing it to me" he says, still smiling despite breaking countless of bones in his body

Now a cup of warm jasmine tea always mysteriously appear beside his table every day he lay to rest in the infirmary.

You truly could get lost in the echoes of his voice calling your name as your heart swells in contentment.

GOD. It was embarassing. Some part of you resented how easily swayed you were when it comes to him, acting like a lovesick fool, wearing your heart on your sleeve. But how could you not? When the boy right in front of you has the purest heart out of everyone you ever met in your life. If it was him, you wouldn't mind having your heart break again and again until it could only be recognize as a pile of mush.

But nonetheless, you wouldn't give him your heart. you wouldn't want him to see how tainted you truly are, a tarred and rotten soul.

The only thing beautiful that truly came from your heart was your newfound love for him. But of course you knew it wasn't right for him to be with someone like you, it wasn't right... you should do everything in your power to stop it. But your selfish desires wanted to keep this feeling. Even if it's only for yourself, and you hated that.

"[Name] you're spacing out again.... are you alright?"

He touched your hand, you could feel the calloused hard skin of his palm under your bandaged hand. The warmth in itself could set you ablaze

"Ah- sorry Tanjiro, my mind was.. somewhere else.."

"That is quite alright.... But are you feeling better now? That tree demon was quite the handful is it not? Haha!” he says, trying to lighten the mood, as he always do. You layed helplessly with 8 broken bones and a harsh scar that dragged from your right shoulder to your left waist, his existance could soothe all wounds in your body.

"You're right!.. Ahaha..ha.." you laughed uncharacteristically dry, trying to make your point accross for him to just go away.

But he only sat himself closer to you, before he starts chatting away about his wonderful day with the water hashira Giyuu, and his soba eating contest. It was heartfelt, heartwarming and so so precious. How you wanted to just listen to his voice all day...

"Tanjiro-!..."

He was cut off from his story, looking at you confused

"I think.. it's time for you to go. I am rather-...tired, i wish to rest"

The doubt and hurt expression in your face sent strings of guilt in Tanjiro’s heart, he was so immersed in your company that he didn’t realize your discomfort.

"I apologize for keeping you at bay, please rest well [Name]!” he said, before he sweetly tucked your blanket and fixed your pillow for you

“I’ll write to you! I hope the letters doesn’t get lost in the way this time too”

The familliar sounds of his steps gradually becoming more faint as he went away

"I'm the worst." You say (you are, there’s no doubt about it)

You sat yourself eyes glued to the drawer filled with Tanjiro's unanswered letters. You slowly took one, and held it close to your heart. You could still smell the dried wisteria flowers that he gifted you along side it.

"Well that was..” a voice suddenly said not visible to your line of vision

“INCREDIBLY STUPID.” Goto said, an unlucky Kakushi that by some unfortunate chance had to listen to your pathetic teenage love story.

"HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN THERE???!!" you said, surprised. Has your instincs as a demon slayer weakened over the course of your bedridden days? It has only been a week??

"Maybe if you weren't so enamoured by him, then you'd notice i've been standing here the whole damn time." The vein bulging out of anger in hid forehead was far from not visible.

He was right, despite your efforts in trying to avoid him, everyone could notice how your eyes still wouldn’t budge away from him

"Can you not?..Don't you see that i'm a heartbroken mess??"

"AND WHOSE FAULT IS THAT" he said, as he poked your face aggresively.

You looked at him offended before turning the other way. You both knew the answer

He sighed. He was a 23 year old man, consulting 2 teenagers on their love life. Dream job right here..

But despite his irritated tone. You could tell there was sincerity in his words. You had grown used to his counseling daily over these week.

Well it's not like you could go anywhere else.

"Look kid, i know, you think that you're not good enough for him because of something you did in the past.. but, that kid looks at you-"

"He looks at everyone like that-" you cut off again, before earning an earnest pinch on your arm"

"OW OW-"

"LET ME FINISH." He sighed again "he looks at you as if you hunged the stars, it's wildly obvious. i think that despite what you believe, out of everyone... maybe Tanjiro could forgive you for what you did in the past."

Forgiveness.. could anyone ever forgive you for what you did? You were at fault for the destruction of your whole village. To say that someone in this world would think anything else but vicious of you would be something more self serving.

You were glad you were still face the other way. Because at least you could pretend that you weren't crying over this.

"... you're just saying that to make me feel better..." you said pathetically as you layed on that infirmary bed miserably. You haven't missed a day where you haven't wondered if the outcome would've been different.

"Maybe. But you wouldn't know until you've said something. Don’t throw this away, is all i’m saying" he shrugged, before leaving the infirmary. Leaving you to reflect

You look to the side to find Tanjiro's blade being left behind. He left his sword.. you thought

But it's okay.. you can just ask someone else to retreive it. It's no big deal just don't think about him!

Alone at last..

Alone again.

You were always okay with that. But having to meet Tanjiro, some parts of you could bear to stand it no longer. As if a gnawing feeling to seek his presence haunts your dreams and every waking moment. How could you wish to recover from this? How can you recover from him?

You couldn't..

What if he needed his sword..? You said internally, knowing well he was just going to The Water Hashira’s residence for a meet up. What if he encouter a demon on the way there? Better safe than sorry... you thought, knowing well it's 7 in the morning

The sounds of your steps echoing through the corridor of the butterfly estate, at first Aoi was too busy cooking to notice but the sounds of your painful screech and every huff through your painful steps on the hardwood floors

But your instincts maybe had really dulled because you didn’t hear Aoi coming out of the kitchen

"Going somewhere?"

Aoi says, with the knife that she forgot to set aside in his hand. The murderous aura coming out of her wasn't helping whatsoever...

"....Just taking a walk?.... AhaHA- please put that down, Aoi... "

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE, YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE RESTING!!" She yelled at you, scolding you for your behaviour knowing damn well you're supposed to be resting.

What you didn't know however was that Tanjiro was already on his way inside the Butterfly Mansion once again, remembering to retrieve his sword.

Though his hearing wasn't that very good after the fight with upper moon 4 making him walk straight to your heated scolding session.

"Sorry Aoi.." you said, in what you could only describe as your defeated cries.

"Aoi-san? What's wrong?.." he said, finally realizing the situation after seeing you sat on the floor while Aoi stood up waving her arms around like a parent after finding out their child did something bad.

Aoi let out a groaned before instructing Tanjiro to escort you back to your bed.

Seeing you carry around his sword though lets him know of your intentions. Seeing that precious smile plastered on his face made you somewhat embarassed... it's as if he could read you easily like an open book. It was as if even if you tried to do anything discreet, he'd found you out everytime. It was as if no matter how many times you run and hide your adoration from him.. that smile would appear and ruined it all.

"Thank you [name], you didn't have to do that...." he said as he sat you on the infirmary bed. "You're

"It's nothing really... but-" you tried to give a rebuttle, trying to downplay your situation.

"And here i was afraid you might be avoiding me for some reason...." he said, maybe he didn't realize it. But that smile could melt you sooner than the power of a thousand suns "I'm glad!.. i really am.."

Oh.. there it is that tingly feeling again.

you're fucked.

"I'm sorry Tanjiro... but, you're actually correct" you could even say he's on the nose... haha.

"I must admit that i have been avoiding you. And trust me it's nothing against you.." oh it's everything against him.

"I want you to know that.. so please do not worry"

You held his hand, the thought he would pull away from your touch hanted your mind, but he sat there intertwining his fingers with yours. You could get lost in him. His touch, his voice, his warmth.. and those eyes.

"Then... would you tell me what happened?.." he asked, the melody of his voice lulling you in a daydream

"I.. i think i fell in love w-" SHIT. That was your outside voice.. you blame him for distracting you in such manner.

"HUH-" Tanjiro were surprised with your words.. pushing a precariously obvious intrest in his tone of voice "W-with who?.. ahaha-" he laughed nervously

"I- it doesn't matter!!" You shook your head violantly feeling him coming closer. The proximity only pushing you to spill all your guts altogether...

"I- it's just that.. it doesn't matter because he doesn't love me back.. you know?... there's no way he would ever accept a heart like mine" you say incredibly negative, waving your hand around like some idiot. Breaking the handholding that was previously established. “Which is why i’m a little down in the dumps lately… but i know i’ll get over it so don’t worry!”

"Ah-" you felt Tanjiro catching your hands in the air and putting them together”

“Anyone who rejects your heart are clearly stupid!” Tanjiro says, rather angrily. “Please don’t be upset.. that person couldn’t began to imagine your value!!”

Well you technically weren’t rejected yet, he may has misunderstood.

“You really don’t have to comfort me Tanjiro.”

“I’m serious..” he pried, wanting you to see his truth “you’re kind. More than you think. You’re sensitive… loyal.. not to mention determined-“

“Tanjiro-“

“It’s lovely. Your heart that is..”

You were taken aback by his words. It’s as if you could hear a sweet melody playing along with the uncontrollable beat of your heart as your cheeks grew warm unwillingly

This moment was nothing but tender, you wanted nothing but to melt in his arms.

“You’re probably the only one who thinks of me that way, Tanjiro.”

Your words rang nonsense through his ears. How can that be true when you take his breath away in every second of the day? If he could then he’d happily spend hours of his day explaining every wonderful aspects of you. He’ll hammer that idea in your head if he could.

"Then.." he trailed of. Breaking eye contact. You missed the way flush spread all over his complexion all this time, only realizing the embarassement and hesitance that was plastered obvious so

"Can i have it?"

"W-wha.."

"Your heart.. May i have it?" He said, fixing his words as he looks into your eyes in anticipation. "That is.. if you're willing to have me of course."

Woah.

...

WOAH?

WAIT....WOAH!?!?!

At this point you don't think you could even give your heart to anyone else...nor even him because your heart has probably already exploded at that moment.

It took you more than a while to process with Tanjiro looking at you, concerned for you, he didn't even know if you were lucid by how many times he called out to you.

"SAY SOMETHING YOU IDIOT" Said Goto behind you, as he swiftly hit you right in the head. Yup, that does the job

"But- i- you.. i think maybe you-" your words got caught up in your throat as Tanjiro inspects the back of your head right where goto landed his unforgiving blow, that will surely leave a bruise.

You could hear Tanjiro’s worried comments about how mean it was for Goto to do such a thing as he caress your bruise trying to soothe the pain.

"Fix your breath,kid" he said, clicking his tounge in impatiebce before disappearing again, he knows when you need a moment alone. Reliable as always, though it gets creepy how he shows up out of no where.

Despite his harsh punch, you knew he was right. You took a deep breath and exhaled, calming your nerves, while Tanjiro sat beside you attentively

“Tanjiro..” you called his name, you never wish for it to be the last time you do. So you might as well tell your truth

"You.. you're the kindest person i ever known. But i have a background that is beyond tainted, it's not right for me to keep that from you. Please understand that i'm a person who will forever bear the consequences of my sins, i... there's no reality where i can think that i deserve you."

That would go along a fact that maybe there wasn’t a reality where you didn’t yearn for him.

"Don't say that.. please don't say that!" He yelled, now clenching your hands despretely

“If i have to, then i’ll bear half of your sins so that you didn’t need to feel that way.” He loved you, despretely. And it pains him that you thought of yourself that way when he worship the ground you walk upon

“I want you to know that there’s no reality where i don’t love you”

You intended to say ‘i love you too’ you loved him above all else. But the words got caught up in your throat,replaced by your choked sobs

Tanjiro sat there, comforting you, wiping away your tears patiently.

To help people was something that Tanjiro always aspires to do. He does it even without thinking.. but when it was with you, he can't help but overthink his actions would they like this? Would it be weird if i complimented them? Would it be too obvious? At some point he worries the nice things that he tries to do for you ultimately come from the a selfish desire to woo you. He worries it wasn't genuine and it was self serving. He worries that he wasn't doing this right.

But what he worried the most was that he couldn't stop it. He couldn't stop basking in your smile, your light, your attention, your presence. He knew he was getting spoiled.

"Would you take me, even like this?" You said, you didn’t have to give your heart to him, it was already his

"I wouldn't have you any other way".

[mikanferno]

Small fic based on this!

---------

"So do you think a HUGE scissors sadness could beat a small rock sadness?"

Siffrin chuckled, but kept his gaze on the unfinished chair leg, "I think so, yeah. A strong Scissors craft done by a person can still beat a rock sadness, so it could work in a hypothetical sadness versus sadness fight, can't it?"

Bonnie hummed, "I guess so? You should try that sometime."

"Are you suggesting I go explicitly against precisely what Nille told me not to do?"

Bonnie giggled, "It's not like you don't do it anyway!"

Siffrin almost messed up their carving, "No I don't!"

"Yes you do! I know things, you know?"

Siffrin grimaced, "...how do you know?"

Bonnie laughed, loud and cheerful, "For starters, you've just confirmed it!"

Siffrin groaned.

"And also, you keep going out to 'fish', come back with no fish, and looking like you got mauled by a bear."

Siffrin gasped, "No I don't! I don't lose fights!"

"If you say so."

"I do say so."

Bonnie giggled, and Siffrin exhaled, finishing up another chair leg. He blinked, "Oh! I think I'm done with the chairs."

Bonnie turned away from the stove, "You are?"

"Yeah. I just need to make the table legs, sand and assemble all of these, and I'll be done with Ms. Jill."

"Good," Bonnie says, "She sucks. I don't like her coming here so often."

Siffrin hummed, sanding the latest chair leg some more, "Are you almost done cooking? I can help if you're not."

They shook their head, tongue sticking out as they stirred the pan, "No, I'm neeearly done." They gently flipped the sweet potato fries, and promptly turned off the stove, "Ok, all done!"

"Did you salt the fish?"

Bonnie nodded, then the nod slowly turned into a shake of the head. "Forgot."

Siffrin laughed, and stood to ruffle their hair, "It's okay. I'll bring the salt once I set the table, then."

Bonnie pushed his hand away, sticking out their tongue, "Okay! I'll go wait for Nille outside!"

Siffrin smiled as they ran off the house, and set the table. The cute, nicely decorated fork for Bonnie, the plain darkless one for themself, and the one with the darkened handle for...

"NILLE'S HOME!" Bonnie exclaimed from the door, startling Siffrin into dropping the forks on the table, "Oops! Sorry!" They said, a nervous smile on their face.

Siffrin breathed deeply, and smiled at them both, "Hey, Peel."

Nille smirked at him, "Hey Crabfrin, did Bug here blow up the kitchen today?"

Bonnie groaned, "No!!!! I didn't!!!!!!"

"Results inconclusive. I was busy carving. The kitchen might just be gone."

"I didn't!! I didn't blow it up!!!!!"

Nille shook her head, fake remorse in her tone, "Wow, that's too bad. Guess we'll have to get a new kitchen."

Bonnie puffed out their cheeks, "Alright that's it. None of you get to eat my delicious and amazing fish and sweet potatoes."

Nille laughed, "Nooo! Buggg please let us have some!!"

Bonnie shook their head resolutely, "No. You were a crab. No food for you!"

Siffrin smiled, "What if I apologized and gave you a little kiss on the forehead?"

Bonnie paused. "..fine."

.

They sat down to eat.

Dinner was about as eventful as always, which is to say everyone spoke about what they did during the day (and when had Bonnie had time to do all that? Had Siffrin really been that immersed while carving?) and, of course, sent their compliments to the chef ("We MUST have someone else cooking here, the cooking is too good!", "Wow, you picked out all the fish bones? Thanks Bug!")

After that, Bonnie went to bed as Nille was on dishwashing duty, and Siffrin in drying.

"Did Mr. Flemming give you much trouble?" Siffrin asked, drying a fork and putting it away.

"Huh?" Nille tilted her head, passively scrubbing a plate, "Oh, nah, he was patient and all, he just had me waiting for long bouts of time in-between tasks. That's why I took so long to get home."

"Ah." She usually got home before Bonnie even started cooking, after all, "I see."

They cleaned for a few more minutes in comfortable silence.

"Oh, right." Siffrin said, "Do you want to come with me to watch a play, next weekend?"

"Sure," Nille answered easily, "What's it about?"

"I'm not sure, I think it's new? Something about a boy going inside of a book?"

"That sounds fun. Are we taking Bonnie?"

"If they wanna come!" Siffrin nodded, finishing up the last plate, "I don't think it's age restricted."

"Cool, we have a weekend plan, then!" Nille smiled, and walked out of the kitchen, "Don't forget tomorrow Bon has that playdate of theirs after school, okay?"

"Yeah, I'll pick them up." Siffrin nodded, removing his gloves and smiling at her, "Good night, Nille."

"See you tomorrow." She smiled back, and they both went to bed.

.

Sifffin sighed shakily under their cloak.

Bonnie never did go to that playdate. He refused to think about what happened to their little friend, and instead held Bonnie's hand tighter and they continued to run.

Chin up Siffrin.

Chin up.

[shelbgrey]

Can you please do one with Seeley Booth with the writing prompt being 0.7 (“he's not my boyfriend” - “I think you better tell him that” - “what?” - “only love makes you that crazy”) tumblr is starting to run dry on bones imagines and I think you would make a great story with this prompt. Please?

In the name of love (Seeley Booth)

Paring: Seeley Booth x Hodgins!Reader

Prompt: 0.7) “he's not my boyfriend” - “I think you better tell him that” - “what?” - “only love makes you that crazy”

A/n: sorry this took so long and that is got pretty long. Also I had to switch the roles in the prompt for it make since.

MasterList

In the end I couldn't really tell you how we ended up in this situation, all battered up and in fear what the Bureau would say when they find out me and Lance let the perp go. But most of all I was afraid what Seeley would say when he saw the both of us. I got the shortest end of the stick, busted face and knuckles and my ribs were aching somthing fierce.

Fear in Lance's eyes only intensifies when Seeley's name pops up, trying to call me. “it's Seeley”

I hand Lance the phone so he could talk to him. “he'll know something is up if I talk to him” my voice was horse already and I was shaking from the resent beat up.

Lance gulped and took the phone to talk to Seeley while he drove through the city. “H-hey b-booth we got a situation” I sighed as Lance immediately cracked pressure. Do to the lack of music or sound in general in the car I could vaguely hear Seeley on the other side of the phone.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a second. What’s going on, what the hell happened?” Seeley asked from the other side of the phone.

I quickly shook my head no at Lance as he continued to talk to Seeley through my phone. Lance gulped and continued to drive while talking to Seeley on the phone “this isn't really phone conversation material... Are you at your office?” Lance asked with a hint of nervousness.

There was silence on both ends of the phone, Lance glances over at me nervous as Seeley hesitates on the other side of the phone. “Yeah, I am. What are you talking about? And where the hell did you go? We were supposed to bring Fredrick Batmen in today”

Fredrick Batmen so that's this name, at least I know the name of the guy who put a couple of dense in me. I looked over at Lance, shaking my head. We weren't supposed go out by ourselves. We both only just got our license to carry a weapon when we assisted the FBI.

“umm...” Lance said looking at me quickly then back at the road. I threw my pounding head back on the head rest of the car as Lance continued to lose his cool.

“hang up the phone lance” I said softly so Seeley didn't hear me on his side of the phone.

“umm....” Lance said as Seeley spoke on the phone, he looked at me in a panic. Huh, I've never seen a psychologist lose their cool before.

I could hear Seeley getting frustrated on the other side of the phone “Hey, Sweets. Just tell me what the hell is going on?”

Lance took a deep breath and regained his composer “I'm almost the Bureau... I'll explain when I get there” he said through the phone to Seeley.

“No, no, no. Listen... you want to tell me what's going on and you want to tell me right now” Seeley says as bit louder, making the conversation clear to my ears.

“Umm...” Lance and I both prayed that Seeley didn't ask for me.

I could hear Seeley sigh in frustration on the other side of the phone “Come on, Sweets, you are starting to piss me off here.”

“This is something you don't want to hear on the phone and as a psychologist I should have the right to say on behalf of your temper and mental health” Lance thought he was gonna win this conversation I on the other hand had been best friends with Seeley for a long time and I knew Seeley doesn't give up especially if phycology gets thrown in.

“Yes... He definitely gonna listen now” I sighed as I wrapped a hankerchief tighter around my bloody nuckles. “we're doomed” I mumbled as I heard Seeley saying Lance shouldn't bring up phycology now. I thanked God when Lance got closer to the Bureau.

Seeley then started shouting at Lance, which was rare thing for him rase his voice at me or Lance. “you are making this worse! Just tell me what is going on right now!”

I slapped my forehead in frustration, as much as I cared for lance and he was indeed like a little brother he was being pretty stupid. “For Pete's sake” I sighed and weakly snatched the phone “Seeley! Hey buddy, like Lance said we're on our way and you making Lance nervous isn't helping the situation... I'm gonna hang up now and we'll fill you in when we get to your office”

“No, no, no. Don't hang up!” Seeley started, he then hesitates. “I know you are hiding something, I can tell by your tone. Just tell me what the hell is going on so I can stay calm”

“Just stay calm anyway” I said softly and hung up the phone before Seeley could protest anymore. I hung up the phone and looked at Lance “your terrible at lying, especially to Seeley” I sighed as Lance pulling into the Bureau's parking lot.

“sorry” Lance mumbles as he puts the car in park. I winced at the pain in my ribs when I tried to clime out of the car. I sighed and slouched back in the passenger seat, it felt like dozens of kitchen knives beening stabed into my side.

I terned to Lance with pain in my eyes “Help me will ya?” Lance quickly nodded and climed out of the car, racing to the passenger door. “easy, easy” Lance mumbles as he slowly helped me out of the car and supported me by puting on of my arms on his shoulder as we both slowly walked into the FBI building to Seeley's office.

Lance walked me to Seeley's office and enters without knocking. With the windows suronding the door of the office Seeley could see us limping in before we even entered the small room.

Seeley quickly shot up from his office chair and raced to the both of us “What the hell happened to you, n/n?” asked softly as he helped Lance set me down in the leather chair infront of his desk.

“Oh you know the usual” I winced when I tried to relax in the chair. “I'm gonna get the first-aid kik” Lance quickly said and left to get the supplies from his office.

Seeley leaned against his desk, standing in between the chair I was seeing in and his desk. Fear plastered his face as he stared down at me “what the hell happened to you?” you could tell he was trying not to freak out, which was an emotion he hated having.

Lance quickly came back to Seeley's office and handed the first-aid kit to Seeley. “thanks Sweets, I got this” he said motioning that he's clean up my cuts himself. Lance nodded and gently padded my shoulder before he left.

I sighed and looked a Seeley, I took a deep breath and started to explain everything. “me and Lance left to get the guy in custody, the Batmen dude... We got in a fight and he got away” I looked down at my busted knuckles as tears pooled my eyes, it stinged when I rubbed my hands together nervously “I'm sorry I let him get away” a tear fell done my cheek quicker then I lost my cool.

Seeley's eyes softened as he knelt infront of the chair I was setting in, he gently takes my bloodied hand in his massive ones. “it's okay” he whispered softly she wipe a splatter of blood off my chin. “Don't worry about that. I'm just glad you two are alright. We'll catch him another time. It's okay.”

I looked up as his soft eyes and let out a shaky breath. I could tell he was hiding his anger as he cleaned my cuts. I knew he wasn't mad at me but at the guy we've been chasing, I could see his jaw clinching as he cleaned up my face with the stuff from the first-aid kit “I'm sorry Seel” I mumbled again.

Seeley take's my chin and slowly lifts my head so we're looking at each other. “It. Is. Not. Your. Fault. You. Hear. Me?” he said, making tears prick my eyes once they met his brown ones.

Seeley softly smiled and wiped the tears runing down my face “It's going to be okay. I promise. How bad are you hurt?”

I didn't want to worry him anymore, so I shook my head and nervously chewed on my busted lip. Seeley gently pulled my bottom away from my teeth as I responded “not bad”

Seeley smirks softly but still gives me a 'yeah right' look “You have blood on your shirt, blood on your face, bruises on your face. I mean Lance is the psychologist, but I'm pretty sure that counts as bad” he said as he cleaned the cut on my forehead “Where else you hurt?” he asked again.

I tried to reassure him, but when I tried to adjust in the chair I winced when the sharp pain in my ribs came back. Out of instinct my hand fell to my waist trying to put pressure on it.

Seeley looked down as after he put a bandge on my forehead. “your rib? Is it your ribs?” he asked softly.

“Let me see” Seeley mumbled and gently lifted my shirt up just a little bit. I winced when my shirt and his fingers brushed up against it. I also couldn't help but blush when his large hands pushed my shirt up reveing my bruised body.

He sighed softly as his eyes held nothing but concern or disappointment. “yeah... you are hurt pretty bad” he look at me and all my injuries, then look down and away. You could see the red tint in his skin as the anger boiled in side him at. He was Really, Really, Angry now. Seeley sighed.

“I'm okay Seeley” I said in a serious tone, I knew he didn't believe me and honestly I didn't know if I believed me either.

“Iet me see your hands” he mumbled as he grabbed a fresh cotton ball and the bottle of alcohol. I wined softly as he cleaned my knuckles. “i know, I'm almost done” he whispered, he looked like he was trying to bottle up every negative emotion possible right now. I could only imagine what he'd do when he crosses paths with the perp.

After he cleaned my knuckles, he gently wrapped the up and then kiss my hand. I blushed at the small gesture. It felt different then the other times we've touched, I'd admit we're pretty touchy as best friends go and it was probably no secret to anyone that I had a crush on him, but I couldn't stop but melt when his lips touched me.

“Look at me, alright? Can you look at me?” Seeley asked, taking my bruised face in his hands”

“hm?” I asked, looking into his eyes.

I don't think either of us were prepared for what happened next. Seeley slowly lean in, with his hand on my cheek then kisses me on the lips softly. It took me by surprise, but once I registered what was happening I melted into the kiss, placing my bandage covered hand on his jaw as I gently deepen the kiss dispite the pain in my busted lip. I never wanted the kiss to end, but the sting in my lip made me pull apart gently.

Seeley look at me with a dopey smirk. “you don't know how long I've been waiting to do that” he whispered as he rested his forehead on mine, breathing hard. He looked at me, all bloody, swollen face, then kisses my lips again once more, softer than the first, but just as passionate. I leaned into the kiss My hands run through his hair.

“Your not gonna let me in on a case for a while, are you?” I joked as rested my forehead on his and I nuzzled my noise against his.

He shook his head, slightly smiling. “Never in a million years. I'm not letting you get hurt on my watch again.”

“guess that's what a squint gets for leaving that lab and doing FBI stuff” I joked.

Seeley chuckled and rolled his eyes. “anything eles hurting?” he asked softly as he rubbed my arms in a comforting way.

“I'm okay” I kissed his nose softly “you patched me up pretty good already” I smiled, but I couldn't hide the wince I made due to my ribs hurt after I shifted in his lap.

Seeley notices immediately. “What is it? Your ribs” he asked, I nodded softly. “It's just bruised... I'll put some ice on it or something when I get home” I said looking down.

Seeley takes my chin and our eyes locked. “y/n, I'm your best friend. So please, listen to me for a minute, okay? You hurt your ribs pretty bad today. You need to let the med techs look at you, please?” his eyes held so much plea and his voice was laced with pure desperation.

I sighed and rested my forehead on his. I kissed his lips softly and quickly. “you know I don't like doctors” I mumbled... He knew that, that's why I chose to come to him instead of the med clinic after I got beat up.

“know, n/n. I know, But It'll just a quick check-up. don't worry. Please?” he stared at me with brown puppy eyes as he softly held my face in my hands. I couldn't ignore his silently beg for me to get help at the clinic.

I rolled my eyes playfully. “I guarantee my ribs are just bruised... I'm a doctor too ya know”

“your a Forensic Entomologist... A bug girl” Seeley said in a serious tone as he helped me stand up, slowly and easy. “It's still a doctor though” my argument ended with a wince.

Seeley looks at me sternly for a moment. “Promise me, y/n, that you'll listen to the medical staff at the Bureau. Okay? Promise me.”

I sighed and looked at his brown eyes, I loved them so much. “promise....”

Seeley gently helped me walk to the door so I didn't irritate my ribs anymore. “aren't you the one who went to work with a screwed up back even though the doctor told you to stay home?” my joking tone turned into a wince when I held on to his bicep as I walked towrds the med clinic with him.

Seeley looked down and playfully rolled his eyes “Okay, you got me there... But, in my defense, I was going a little stir crazy being at home after a week.” I chuckle as he kiss me on the forehead to ease the pain.

“We're here, n/n. Let's get this over with and I'll take you home, okay?” Seeley mumbled as we exited the elevator that led us to the floor that had the med clinic.

the doctor came out of her office and smiled softly “Come on in Dr. Y/n Hodgins” she lead me and Seeley to one of the rooms, Seeley helped me up on one of the examination beds as the doctor looked at her clip board.

The doctor examined my ribs, I winced when she hit the wrong spot “a couple of your ribs are broken... But I'd like to take in x-ray” the doctor said. I looked over at Seeley and he looked angrier than before.

“I guess we'll get you an x-ray and some pain meds in ya” Seeley said. the doctor looked up and gave the both of us a soft expression.

“I'm afraid so” she looked up at Seeley “you'll have to wait in the waiting room unfortunately” the doctor told Seeley.

“okay, sure” Seeley said and then gently take my. “I'm gonna be right outside that door if you need me, okay?”

I nodded and Seeley kissed my forehead before going outside.

-------(Seeley's pov)-------

Before I exit the room, I smile at her. But then once I am out of the room, my expression turns serious as I sit down in the waiting room and anxiously await the results of her xray. I leaned forward in the chair and tapped my foot anxiously. The more I thought and tapped, the angrier I got. My jaw ticked and I covered my face with both of my hands.

“How is she?” Sweets asked, walking up to me with his hands in his pockets. I removed my hands and looked at him, I just now noticed he had a few cuts and bruise of his own, he wasn't as bad as y/n though.

“her ribs are broken, the doc is getting X-rays now.” I don't look up at Sweets as he looked just as worried. The panic in his eyes made me think about how I always thought she would choose Sweets inset of me. I never have thought she'd feel the same way I feel about her, that kiss changed everything and it couldn't have happened at a worser time.

I think Sweets could see the anger boiling inside me as I sat there. No amount of psychology could help the anger I was feeling. Sweets sighed, I knew he was hiding something. I looked up at him waiting for him to share whatever he was hiding. “they cought the guy... The guy that hurt y/n... Aubrey just brought him in” I immediately dart up from my seat, running on nothing but anger, Sweets grabed the sleeve of my suit jacket, pulling me back “don't do anything stupid” he said in serious tone. I didn't know why he said it, Sweets knew I would do it anyway.

I jerked my arm out of his grip and turned my back on him and head towrds the interrogation room. “I'm definitely gonna do something stupid” I mumbled as speed walked down the hallway.

I take a deep breath and walk into the interrogation room. I look up and see the guy, sitting across the table from me, with a huge smile on his face. He looks cocky, arrogant. I glare at him. And for a moment, I don't see what I can do to the guy. And then a smile slowly creeps across my face, He's not leaving this room. The interrogation has just begin.

“I'm getting tired of seeing you guys sniffing around my life” the guy says in a gruff tone, he gave me a creepy smirk. “expect for the girl... She was a cute little thing” he mocked as he referred to y/n. The man was twice her size, meaning he probably had no problem beating her. But that didn't mean he didn't look like hell, y/n put up one hell of a fight. His face was all busted up, worse than y/n's was and he was holding a gallon bag of ice on his groin.

When I look at the guy and I can barely contain my anger. I lean forward on the table and put my elbows on it. “Look, pal. Here's how it's gonna be. You hurt my partner, My best friend. You broke her ribs. I could care a less what you did before this. But you did this And for that, you're not gonna see the light of day ever again”

The guy just smirked and let out a laugh. “You think you scare me?” I glared at him, he just didn't understand the hole he dug himself in.

“You don't scare me, man” the guy said in a gruff voice, he leaned forward and smirked. “why get interrogated by you when I could get questioned by your cute little partner”

I scolded myself when the guy now knew y/n was my soft spot, my weakness and if he wanted to get under my skin he knew to bring her up. He knew what he did to her and he didn't care.

My jaw clintched with rage. “Hey. You shut your goddamn mouth when you speak about my partner. Do you understand?” I say, not breaking eye contact. The guy continues to smirk. He knew he was pushing my buttons and he was loving it. I can feel the anger boiling in my veins.

“She's got some fire in her and put up a good fight but it wasn't hard to get her to the ground” the guy chuckled darkly.

I stand up out of my chair. “you think you're funny, huh? I said for you to shut your goddamn mouth. I ask the question!” My hands clench into fists. I look like I am about to snap.

“If it means seeing her again I'll do it again” the guy leaned forward expressionless. “maybe next time I'll get my hand around her pretty little throat”

“I have had it.” I said threw my teeth, can't take it anymore. I grab the guy by the collar, pushing him against the wall and start to beat his face in. One, two, three punches directly to the nose and the jaw. I look into his eyes with rage and hatred. “That is for hurting my partner.”

Three more punches land on his face, making him fall to the chair in his own pool of blood. I stare at him. “That was for threatening to hurt her again.”

that's when Sweets and Bones came rushing in and separated me and the guy, I struggled in Sweets' arms trying to swing another punch towrds the guy “Booth stop” Sweets grunted as he and Bones tried to pull us apart.

I tried my hardest to get loose from Sweets' grip. “Let go of me! Let go of me!” I scream. But Sweets had a tight hold on me.

My anger had blinded me. I was out of control. “let's go” Sweets pushed me out of the interrogation room “your gonna get in a lot of trouble, you relize that?” Bones said. I didn't give a damn especially since it involved y/n.

“I don't care! I do NOT care right now. This guy was threatening to kill y/n!” I scream out, still fighting to break free from Sweet's grip “I would do it again in a heartbeat. You hear me?! You hear me?!”

“Booth, I understand your anger, but right now the best option is to calm down” Bones said calmly.

tears fall down my cheeks and anger bored in to my eyes as Sweets pushed me out of the interrogation room. My knuckles were bruised and bloody from the fight. But I didn't even notice them.

Sweets and Bones shared looks “Dr. Brennan, please tell Caroline what happened... Explain y/n was asulted and Booth acted strictly on self defense”

Bones immediately leaves the room as I continue trying to break free from Sweets “Please, Sweets. Just let me go. I don't care about the God-damned consequences. I just need to let this out. I just need to let my anger out.” I look angry but then I look sad and scared at the same time. I don't know what to feel at this point.

Sweets pushed me towards his office where he did most of his therapy sessions. I was bigger then Sweets but some how he manged to shove me into his office. “your girlfriend isn't goona like it when she leaves the med clinic and finds out you lost your FBI license because you beat a guy to death”

Sweets set down in his chair and pointed to a shelf with a bunch of books and fidget stuff. “break what you want...take your anger out”

I walk over to the shelf and grab a stress ball and a book. And then I come back to the chair. I sit down and start squeezing the stress ball. I don't say anything as I continued to squeeze the stress ball harder and harder. The stress ball is about to pop.

“she's not my girlfriend” I mumbled, as much as I wanted her to be it wasn't the time to bring it up... Even if we did kiss.

Sweets rested his cheek on his as he watches the stress ball pop in my hands “I think you better tell her that”

“what are you taking about?... What?” I asked confused as I grab another stress ball and squeeze it. I continue to squeeze the stress ball as hard as possible.

“only love makes you that crazy” Sweets replies. The stress ball popped in my head. “you said I could break stuff not get a therapy season” I said.

“Your not gonna get in trouble Booth. The guy as multiple accounts of asulting woman and now murder is on his track record... There's no fights it's our word against his” Sweet said.

I crushed another stress ball, this time I throw it on the ground in frustration. “he hurt y/n and you were making sure it never happens again... The guy already has life in prison for the murder case we were solving” Sweets says softly.

I throw my stress ball against the wall and I grab another one. I squeeze harder and harder. “But, you know I could've handled this differently” I squeeze the stress ball as hard as possible so much so that it hurts my hand. “I mean, I did not have to beat him up like that. He did not need my knuckles buried deep in his face. I could've shown restraint.” I grumbled.

“Booth, no one blames you”

“I should've handled it differently... I could've controlled my anger.” I squeeze the stress ball harder and harder to the point that my knuckles are bleeding. “I didn't do the right thing. I let my anger get the best of me” I am squeezing the stress ball so bad that I don't even realize the blood on my hand.

My phone suddenly rings, so I take out my phone and answer it. “Hey, y/n” I say, sounding worried and anxious. “Are you okay? How are you doing?”

“I'm alright, but I have to stay home for awhile because of my stupid rib... Are you okay? You sound weird” she asked through the phone worried.

“yeah, I am... What's up?”

“Can you come back to med clinic and get me please?” she asked softly, she still sounded worried though.

“Sure, no problem” I say through the phone. “Just let me finish up here and I will be right there.” I look over at Sweets. I feel guilty for taking my anger out.

“I'll be about... fifteen minutes. Okay?” I hang up the phone and immediately left Sweets office with a quick goodbye.

-------(1st pov)-------

I'm waiting for Seeley in the waiting room outside of the med clinic, as I am I stare at my pain meds with a bord expression.

“Hey n/n. How are you doing, sweetheart?” Seeley asked walking over to me slowly. I get up and wrap my arms around him, trying not to disturb my ribs. “I'm so happy to see you right now” Seeley mumbled against my shoulder.

“What happened to you?” I asked worried as I noticed his knuckles were all red and bruised. He quickly shook his head no. I gently left his arms and gave him a stern expression “what happened to your hands? And don't tell me nothing”

Seeley look down at his hands and then back up at me. “Well, I am not proud of this... But I beat up the guy that hurt you. You know, the one that broke your ribs”

I let out a deep breath and gave him a soft look. “oh Seeley” I looked at him with no judgment as I placed my bandaged covered hand over his cheek and rubbed it softly with my thumb.

Seeley nuzzles into my touch and take a deep breath and slowly open his eyes. “Look, n/n. I... I was wrong... I shouldn't have done that. I am not proud of it in any way. It just happened and I didn't think I could control it.” Seeley mumbles as tears pricked the corner of his eyes.

I quickly wipe away the tears as they fall, I kissed his forehead and wrap my arms around him, hoddling him tight not caring about my broken ribs. “Shh... It's okay” I whispered as I ran my fingers through his short hair.

“I love you” he blurts out. I leaned out of his arms and looked up into his eyes suprised. “I'm s-”

“I love you too” I whispered and pressed my lips to his, not caring if anyone saw us.

[icejjfishesz]

008. ༺AND I LOVE HER༻∘

a/n: it's been a minute sorry y'all i had no energy to write lmao 😭😭

summary: after getting unexpectedly left by your roommate, you find yourself in need of a replacement.

contents: paige is down bad. rushed (sorry).

previous. next. masterlist.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

she was wearing paige’s hoodie. smiling up at her from where she sat. on the edge of her bed, legs dangling off the side. olivia tilted her head to the side, watching as paige walked up to the bed in front of her. 

paige was smiling too but it felt more forced cautious. olivia hasn’t been this way since they first got together. paige missed it desperately but now that she had it back it felt…disappointing. 

when paige left you, she went straight to olivia’s place. for closure, is what she told herself but she knew the truth. so did you. she was running. back to what she knows, away from something new that made her feel something she never had. back to olivia. the blonde didn’t quite know what to expect but she didn’t expect what she got. olivia apologized immediately, which was already enough to shock paige but then she took the time to listen to all of paige’s concerns and then shared her own. it was too late mature and necessary and overdue.

“do you wanna watch a movie?” olivia’s voice is pure honey, sweet and thick. she reaches for paige’s hand, and paige lets her grab it but is almost repulsed by the touch. she forced herself to relax into the feeling of olivia’s skin on her own, but she couldn’t help but compare it to yours. 

do you wanna watch a movie…a simple task that she couldn’t bring herself to agree to. it’s something she used to do with you. even before olivia ended things with her. that was something for the two of you. doing it with olivia now felt like betrayal and it made paige shake her head. “no, i’m tired. can we just lay together?”

olivia smiles impossibly brighter and it makes paige’s heart sink –– guilt eating her alive from the inside out, bones and all. she pulls the blonde onto the bed beside her and takes paige’s arm and wraps it around her own waist. 

“i really did miss you…” olivia whispers, bringing a hand up to caress paige’s cheek. 

the blonde smiles slightly, opening up her mouth to say something unconvincing. “me too.”

olivia chuckles shyly. “that’s it?”

“what?”

olivia sighs and bites her lip. “is something wrong? you’re being weird…”

paige couldn’t deny it. it’s true. she couldn’t get out of her head. she didn’t want to. she wanted to stay in her head forever to avoid the problem. the thoughts of you. but she couldn’t exactly admit that she can’t stop thinking about you either…so she lies through her teeth. “no, babe…nothing’s wrong.”

olivia doesn’t pry which paige is grateful for, she simply lets her thumb rub the blonde’s cheek more. “i really want this to be different this time.”

“yeah, so do i –– ”

“no, i’m serious –– i know that our relationship was very rocky in the past and I know that I have jealousy issues. and commitment issues. and anger issues.” olivia rambles, staring 

paige’s whole face pools in confusion at olivia’s words. what the hell? “...olivia?”

“no…hear me out, okay?” she clears her throat. “i want to work on all of that..with you.”

the confusion is still prominent on paige’s face as she blinks at the girl in front of her. 

“god, i’m so bad at this.” she sighs, clearing her throat again. “i’m trying to ask you to be my girlfriend. officially.”

the blonde’s mouth becomes dry, her heart beating so hard she can hear it. the entire room goes quiet and she opens and closes her mouth a few times. this is all paige has wanted to hear from her. for so long. this was all she wanted. but it doesn’t make her happy like it should. she feels nothing but unwavering guilt. 

“i can’t.” paige sits up abruptly, feeling like she as olivia’s jaw drops. “i’m sorry…i can’t.”

“what?” 

“i slept with her.”

she isn’t sure why she chose right now to tell olivia that but it’s the only thing that came to mind. olivia was finally willing to give paige all she wanted but all she could think about was you.

“your roommate?” olivia sighed defeatedly.

“yes.”

the silence is palpable. extremely awkward. 

“it’s okay. we weren’t together…and you only did that cause i left you, right? i forgive you. we can be happy now.” 

paige sighs, this was way harder than she wanted it to be. “no…i –– i can’t be with you. i’m sorry. i can’t stop thinking about her and –– “

“what?” olivia puts her hand on paige’s arm but the blonde just shakes it off. “we can work through it…”

“no..i love her.”

FROM: SEAN

I bet you miss tina, huh? 

TO: SEAN

you’re awful

so very awful

FROM: SEAN

I know

I’m sorry

I’ll buy you lunch?

TO: SEAN

forgiven

FROM: SEAN

she hasn’t been home at all

TO: SEAN

nah she’s too busy with olivia

FROM: SEAN

Booooooo

TO: SEAN

exactly

FROM: SEAN

Do you want me to come over later?

TO: SEAN

no

it’s okay

i need to get my shit together 😭

you ended things off with ellie before they even really started, you didn’t wanna use her as a rebound. she understood, she wished you the best in your departure. now, you were just laying in bed. contemplating life. 

then there’s a knock on the door that makes you pause and drop your phone. who the hell –– ? 

you walk to the door, checking the peephole and freezing when you see her. you open the door, staring at her in shock. 

“hi…” paige looks nervous. very nervous.

“what are you doing here?” you scoff. “things didn’t work out with olivia?”

“no, actually…it was great.” paige shifts awkwardly on her heels. “she’s been great. we haven’t argued, she apologized for all the shit we put each other through. she even asked me to be her girlfriend.”

you blink up at her in confusion. that’s everything paige wanted from her. everything. “so what’s the problem?”

“she…” paige shakes her head, biting her lip and shoving her hands into the pockets of her hoodies. she looks so vulnerable. so desperate, guilty, and shameful. it makes your palms sweat. you almost don’t want her to answer your question, you almost shut the door in her face just to calm your rapidly beating heart. but you don’t. you can’t. 

“she isn’t you.”

[idanceuntilidie]

Can you do Yan detective x murder reader

(If you want a name which is optional I got a few, Jason,Kyle,Ashton <- [most recommend in my opinion],Frank)

I hope it was okay! Sorry for not posting anything for so long- Had small problems with my mental health and school TW; mentions of death, murders, blood, yandere behaviour, kidnapping, stalking

reader is gn

Yan Detective x Murderer reader Requests open

The messenger strikes again! Whole group of highschool friends were found dead.... click to find out more!

Ashton bit his thumb as he read another article that night. His tired eyes scanned the painfully flashy site. His co-worker sent him a few of the articles along with this one. For anything that could help him catch the murderer.

Hands shaking and lips pressed into a thin line.

So many people have died recently.

He closed his eyes before getting up and walking to the balcony to smoke. The best stress reliever he had right now. The night was cold. The beautiful once view from his tenement house now covered with ruthless modern architecture. It looked fucking ugly. He took a deep breath in, the smoke burned his throat slightly. It felt nice, he exhaled watching as the gray smoke slowly dissolved in the air.  The case he decided to take seemed simple. It started with one person. Judy Millers. Very pretty young adult, she came from a wealthy family. Ashton actually knew her, back in the day they went to high school. 

A queen bee. He was lucky enough not to get crushed by her. People loved her despite her being an absolute asshole. Judy looked like she was dragged out of some highschool drama. Wealthy, pretty and known for being a bitch.

Her father found her dead in her bathroom. Ashton remembers that night so clearly, when he walked into the bathroom the stench of blood and death overwhelmed his senses. Eyes watering. 

Judy was in more than a bad shape, he could barely recognize her. Face slashed,he could see parts of the bone. She was naked, and the girl was gutted like a pig. Homicide. His eyes darted to the wall behind her head.

“It’s not so funny now is it?” That’s how the murderer got their name, messenger, it sounded slightly stupid but it was a name nonetheless. After Judy, the messenger killed more and more people. Oddly enough they were all from his old high school.

He swore to the father that he will solve the case, but months passed and he still hasn't caught the killer.

Suddenly he heard the door open. Someone walked into his apartment, they were slowly approaching him. He didn’t move, but a smile appeared on his lips. Wide, unnatural he waited as the person behind him got closer. Slowly the person wrapped their hands around his waist. The stench of blood hit his nose in an instant.

They whine. He chuckled as he threw away the cigarette. “Someone got to them before me, can you believe it?” Their voice was rough, but oh so beautiful. It made Ashtons heart burn.

“Oh, oh my love I’m so sorry.” He turned around to hug them back, kissing their head. It was messy, the blood started to already dry out.

“You should take a bath y/n, the blood will be hard to get out, huh?” They nodded, smiling at him before dragging their body to the bathroom. He watched them disappear behind the doorway. He must admit, you look hot in bloody red.

Truth to be told, he found the killer or well the killer found him. After a few of the murders, he decided the question the people who went to the same highschool and were still alive. 

You were the last person on the list, and man when he saw you again after all these years the feelings hit him back. You looked like a wreck, dark circles under your eyes and he swore you had the smell of death on you. Man, even after all these years you were so so lovely. He had fallen for you again.

From then on he started to watch you, even getting to your house. It was full of evidence, and plans to kill everyone who bullied you over the years. He saw the photo of judy with huge X and knife plunged into the middle of her face. He admits he might have got off to the smell of blood on your clothes.

You were the messenger, and he was so sure but he didn’t give you away. Hell, he planned to steal you away actually.

He might have killed a few people along the way, mostly co workers. 

Some got too close, some asked too many questions. He couldn’t share you. He couldn’t share his case. You were his, you were his to understand. To solve. To catch.

He watched you kill some of the people on your list, dreamily sighing as he watched you laugh maniacally as you did. You almost died once, not expecting the victims friend coming back early you didn’t notice them slowly creeping on you with a knife. You were oh so lucky he was near. He saved the day, successfully killing that fucker only to find you were nowhere to be seen. He felt so disappointed. He didn’t even get a chance to even talk to you. Then he found a small gift. A single finger and bloody message.

Every week he got a small body part, along with some threatening messages, but in Ashtons mind, those very love letters. He cherished them.

Then you got into his house, full of rage, bloody, ready to kill him. He didn’t fight you, you looked so beautiful. His heart rammed in his chest as you were ready to stab him. His hands grabbed your face and he kissed you. You bit his tongue and blood filled his mouth. It was so romantic. Let’s say you didn’t leave the house for a good year after that. He kept you in his bedroom for a whole year, finally he had you.

You suffered a whole year, in his grip, answered his questions with a wide smile, describing the murders he already witnessed. Music to his ears. He made his love known, he killed the rest of your victims and brought you their hearts. He watched as you ripped them apart.

After that one year, you fell for him too, and that’s how both of you got to this point, and he knew, you won’t leave him.

[eff4freddie]

2 Sweet 4 Me | Part One

Dieter Bravo x AFAB Reader Words: 3k Minors DNI

Part Two | Part Three | Epilogue

Dieter knows he fucked up, knows he lost you, knows it hurt and that he deserved it. But if its the way things had to be, the way they were always going to be, predestined as he is, apparently born under a vengeful and unforgiving star, then why does it still fucking sting so much?

This is a love story.

Warnings: Drug use, oral sex, M/M, M/F, tiny hint of a miscarriage. Cover image doesn't represent reader. Dieter being angsty and defeated, Dieter beating himself up, Dieter self-effacing and self-sabotaging. Just Dieter.

Dieter had really tried to be good. The problem wasn’t that he got bored easily, or that sometimes it felt like his bones were kind of itchy in an unsettling way. It wasn’t that everyone he knew wanted something from him, wasn’t that they usually got it. It wasn’t that he missed the chemical burn up his nostrils, the glug of the pills caught on the back of his throat. It was all of the above, and a bunch of other stuff his fifth therapist hadn’t yet figured out how to excavate.

He slumped his head back on the couch, his trailer too cramped for someone who won an Oscar, but absolutely the right size for someone successfully snorting it all away. He was in the back row, a long line of trailers all the way down to the highway, such that he had to put on his music to drown out the cars going past, and it was fucking impossible to concentrate on his craft when all he could hear was honking and the drone of the 9-5, of the people coming and going completely unaware that life was supposed to be about creativity and fun and getting your cock sucked by the best boy between scenes.

He had to be careful not to be too loud. Had to hold his cigarette tight between his fingers in case he dropped ash on the head bobbing up and down in his lap. He sighed.

‘I’m not sure this is working for me,’ he said, after a while, his mouth strangely dry, his tongue sticking to the roof his mouth. If you’d been here, you would have told him to drink some water. He tried to swallow down his feelings dry.

The best boy hummed, switching from forcing Dieter’s length down his throat to pumping with his fist while he tongued at Dieter’s balls. That was a slight improvement, Dieter considered. But not enough.

Gently, he took the best boy by the collar, heard the slick of his skin as it eased from the younger man’s mouth. ‘Thanks, though,’ he said, half-hearted.

‘What about if I…?’ the best boy asked, taking two of his fingers and swooshing them upwards into the air.

‘No, no,’ Dieter waved him away. ‘I just need to relax, I think.’

‘I have some edibles in my car, I could go and get them,’ the best boy offered, springing up on youthful knees and sitting, too close, to Dieter on the couch. ‘We could do them together,’ he went on.

Oh, fuck. Dieter could see the look in his eye, had seen it a thousand times. A look like he thought if he swallowed enough of Dieter’s come it’d land him a production assistant gig, a job on a daytime talk show, one of those ones that’s been going for 20 years.

‘Sorry, man,’ he said, standing and tucking himself back into his shorts. The best boy stood with him, hurt crossing his face before a professional veneer slotted over the top. For a moment Dieter stared at him, scared he was going to say something, and not sure what he would say that scared him the most; the offer of more drugs, of more sex, or just to tell him he was due back on set. ‘I gotta pee,’ Dieter said, eventually, scurrying away to the bathroom in the hope that by the time he emerged the younger man would be gone.

He avoided his reflection in the mirror, knew that if he looked, he wouldn’t recognise himself anyway. He could feel the stage makeup settling into his pores, could feel the mascara clumping in the corners of his eyes. Sometimes, when he was drunk enough but not high, when he was jet lagged but not too fuzzy, when he was feeling vulnerable but not unsafe, sometimes then he would look. Study the deepening lines across his forehead, the crow’s feet crinkling his skin all the way to his temples. He’d pull his hairline back, check for any movement, stare into the dark of his eyes and see if the rot was leaking out. He’d wonder why you chose him, husk of a thing that he is, how you stayed for so fucking long.

--

All of it was just sleight of hand. He’d go out there onto the soundstage, hit his mark and say the words someone else had written, pretend he was somewhere, someone, better. He’d got so good at pretending, at covering up, and making himself disappear that he’d forgotten now how to do the magic trick. It just happened. He won awards for it, the slippage.

On the way back to his rented apartment, because he can’t even commit to a real estate agent let alone to a partner, his driver wound down the window to try and clear the smoke drifting over from where Dieter sat in the back.

‘Sorry, Rudy,’ Dieter muttered, using the butt of one cigarette to light the end of the next. It occurred to him that all he ever did now was apologise. Fuck up. Apologise. Repeat.

That’s what you’d said to him, too, when you’d stood in his kitchen next to your overnight bag filled to the brim and reminded him that ‘sorry is not change’. You were right and you were smart and you were too fucking good for him, had always been. He hadn’t blamed you for leaving. Would have left himself too, if he could.

He wondered what you’re doing, even though it hurt. It’s nearly 11 PM on a Thursday night, so he knows you’re probably taking off your makeup, getting into your sweats to go to bed. He wondered if you’re alone, if that guy from your office, fucking Jonathan, was there with you. For a second, he let himself imagine you’re waiting for him at home, the bedside light still on and a book lying discarded next to you on the blankets as you snooze. He approaches, quiet over the carpet, pulls his shirt off, pushes his pants down over his hips. You smile, but don’t so much wake, as he slides in behind you, feels the warmth of your soft skin on his. ‘Hey baby,’ you say, quiet and half-asleep, and he buries his face in your hair. In the morning he’ll have his filthy way with you but right now he just wants you close, in his arms and under his blankets, inside his four walls. Wants you tucked up safe against him, wants to feel your love.

He looked down at his hands, could still feel the warmth of your skin on them, as if for a moment he wasn’t imagining but conjuring. He believed for a moment that it was possible. Wondered if the yellow stains on his fingertips were from the nicotine or just the orange glow of the streetlights.

His house was quiet when he gets in, because of course it was. He wondered if he should call his weed guy, call his E guy. If he just wanted a whiskey, maybe a little Valium first, maybe just a lobotomy. The silence was making him antsy again, sling-shotting from maudlin to jittery as the silence crept into his bones. He could paint but he couldn’t be fucked. He has a 6 AM call time in the morning. Rudy will be knocking on his door at 5.

He realised he’s too amped up to sleep, but that he needed to if he was going to be in any sort of functional state tomorrow. He really didn’t want to fuck up this job, this little indie shooting on the streets of LA on actual film like it’s the fucking 90s. This was maybe his step back into legitimacy, maybe a chance to show he’s still worth a shot. You were so proud of him when he got it, all those months ago, when even his agent seemed a little misty-eyed at the offer. This was important.

Just Ambien, then.

In his bed, Dieter waited for sleep to take him. He still had the picture of you and him on his nightstand, the one where you’re looking up at him as he holds you by the middle, your smile bright and shining as he stares, warmly, into your eyes. You’d been at some party, and even though he couldn’t remember where exactly you both were, Dieter remembered that moment, the snap taken by a friend who had no idea of its significance. It was the moment he knew he loved you, and felt it without fear. It hurt now, hurt a little then, and he left it there for every time he turns his lamp off. Lets it remind him that there was a golden period of some months where you existed in his life and he was yet to fuck it up.

--

Sometime around 2 AM he’s woken by his phone, his body moving before his brain registered what was going on. He doesn’t remember setting an alarm, barely remembered falling asleep. He tried to shift some of the fog to the side so he could think.

‘-lo?’ he muttered, his throat dry.

‘Dee?’ you asked, and he could hear in your voice that you were flustered, worried. He sat bolt upright in the bed, pushed over the picture of you as he reached for the lamp.

‘Baby?’ he asked, as he felt his pulse race and the room swim in front of his eyes.

‘Are you OK?’ you asked, and he could hear how tight your voice was.

‘Mm’sleepin’ he said, surprised by how hard it was to get his mouth to work properly. ‘You OK?’

‘You texted me,’ you said, and he felt his stomach drop. Oh, fuck. Oh fuckedy fuck fuck.

‘I did?’ he asked, as he searched his brain for some scrap of memory. All he could now remember was why he never fucking takes Ambien anymore.

‘Yeah, you said you needed me.’

He slammed his hand to his forehead, hoped for a second that he was actually just straight up hallucinating.

You were still talking, and he tried hard to focus on what you were telling him. ‘You said you’d made a mistake, that I was…’ you paused, and he realised you’d pulled the phone away from your face to read his own messages back to him. ‘Too sweet for you, that you broke us, that you are not so much a bull in a China shop as Mengele hanging out in an orphanage.’ He cringed, no matter how poetic it was. And accurate.

‘Then I think you tried to send me a picture-’

‘Oh God, please tell me not of my-’

‘It’s too dark to see, I think its your ceiling. And you’re saying something about falling stars, and comets.’

Despite his mortification, he could hear a tiny bit of mirth creeping into your voice, and he felt it tinkle warm and delicate at the base of his spine. If he waited long enough, sent you enough fucked up texts, maybe he’d even get to hear your laugh.

‘Fuck, I’m so sorry,’ he started, but stopped when you shushed him.

‘Just tell me what you’ve taken so I know if I should call 911.’

‘Just Ambien, I promise, baby,’ he said, and he hated the little surge of something proud and excited that you cared enough to maybe call help for him. Hated that he had been the one to exploit that in you, for the entirety of your relationship, wondered if he’d started to dangle himself off the cliff just to see if you’d still come and save him. Fuck, there was so much to be sorry for. He’d lost track a long time ago.

‘Dee,’ you said, and then you trailed off, and he could hear that you were about to kindly, gently, admonish him.

‘Didn’t even know I was doing it,’ he explained, and he listened to your sad little sigh. He shut his eyes against it, pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘Not that I didn’t want to…I mean, not that I wouldn’t have if I…not just because of the meds, I guess, I mean.’

In the silence, Dieter checked his phone to see the damage for himself. There were a couple of messages that had failed to send, gibberish mostly, and he deleted them before his phone attempted to deliver on his garbled words. There was, indeed, a picture of his ceiling. He wondered if his medicated mind had wanted to show you what it would look like if you were with him.

He read, quickly.

Down in mmy sheeps with me.

Brokei t. Us.

2 sweet 4 me

not so much a bull in a China shop as Mengele hanging out in an orphanage

He swallowed, assumed he must have got Siri to dictate that last one.

‘What did you mean?’ you asked him, and he heard the sheets rustle round you as you settled yourself back down in bed. He felt his heartrate pick up, had assumed you would hang up on him having been satisfied he was still alive. It had been so long since you’d talked properly. Since after you left, but also a little bit since before.

‘Well, he did a lot of experiments on kids, twins mostly,’ Dieter began, and you stopped him.

‘No, Jesus, no. Fuck, Dee.’ You collected yourself. ‘That I’m too sweet for you. You really think that?’

He thought about you staying up all hours of the night to chat to him on Facetime when he was on location, sleepless and anxious over some tiny bit part, in another country. Thought about you pulling the router out of the wall and putting his phone in the safe when the first reviews for Cliff Beasts 7 were looking shaky. When you cried, quiet in the bathroom when you thought he couldn’t hear, over the comments left on his Instagram the first time you were papped together.

‘My life,’ he started, rolling out a sentence both his manager and agent had said to him in the aftermath of the breakup, ‘is not a good fit for civilians.’

He heard you take in a sharp breath.

‘That’s not it though, is it?’ you asked him, and his eyes were getting heavy, the Ambien still in his bloodstream, the day, week, month, weighing heavy on his shoulders. ‘You put me on a pedestal, Dee. I was never too anything for you. I just don’t think you could bare it when I was real.’ 

He thought about that time he’d screamed at you, upended your suitcase onto the floor, while you were packing for a work trip, the hypocrisy of it not lost on him even then. That time when he’d dragged you out to an industry party, his nerves jangling, not able to remember the last time he’d done it sober, only to lose you in the crowd within fifteen minutes of arriving, everyone wanting to talk to him, to rub up on him, his hand slipping from yours in the throng of it, his mind tuning in to the attention of strangers, ignoring or rejecting or minimising that he had all the love he could want in you.

That time when you’d been sick, bleeding on the floor of the bathroom, calling him to come take you to the hospital, and he’d sent his assistant because he was about to shoot a big scene.

He shut his eyes, the shame of it licking at his cheeks. You didn’t come home after that. You returned to his place, stayed in his bed for a few weeks, ate the food in his fridge and haunted his living room, but you didn’t ever actually come home.

‘I miss you,’ he said, because it was all he could say, and because it was true.

‘Dee, don’t,’ you whispered, and he closed his eyes to revel in the sound of it, to ignore what you were saying to him and to just imagine for a second you were saying it with your body pressed to his.

‘Nothing feels real without you,’ he said, and he meant it, meant how he spent all day in clothes that weren’t his, saying words that he didn’t mean, to people he barely knew. That each morning they had to spackle over the hate and the want and the wash out, try to build him back up into a human being. He was so fucking cold without you, in the middle of an LA heatwave.

‘I wonder if you’ll remember this in the morning,’ you said, and it stung him. He felt the hot prickle of tears at the back of his eyes, felt the strain in his jaw as his mouth turned down.

‘I want to remember it all,’ he said, and he heard you huff out a quiet little laugh, not at all what he had been hoping for. ‘Do you miss me?’ he asked, dropping his hand to his chest to try and still his racing, terrified heart.

‘Go to sleep, Dee,’ you said, before the line went dead. He pulled his phone back to check that you were gone.

It was 2:30 in the morning. Rudy would be there within hours. 

Taglist (want to be on it? Drop me a message): @dieterbravobrainrotclub

@harriedandharassed

[patscorner]

LOSE CONTROL

TW: Panic attack, mention of disassociation

(Red is what's loosely referenced from the song)

This one is shorter bc I lost motivation 🤭

______________________________

You couldn't breathe. No matter how many deep breaths you took, no matter how hard you tried to ground yourself, you still couldn't breathe.

You really needed your boyfriend, but he hadn't been returning your calls. It's been 3 days.

The last you heard from him, you guys had an argument about how much time he was spending with you. Maybe next time, you'll keep your mouth shut and be happy with what you have because now, you don't see him at all.

He knew how you got without him. He knew because you told him how you were no good at being alone. You told him that without him, something takes a hold on you, and you don't know who you are. You told him that the anxiety builds in your chest when he's gone for too long. You told him that it feels like you're drowning without him, and when you see him, it's like a breath of fresh, clean air.

Without him, you're a mess. Without him, it made your skin itch, and it takes so much to stop you from tearing the skin off your bones.

You don't know how long you've been on the bathroom floor, arms around your knees as your rock back and forth, loud sobs falling from your mouth.

You were stuck in a vicous cycle of sobbing, throwing up, disassociating, hyperventilating, passing out, and then waking up and doing it all over again.

You hear muffled ringing coming from your phone that's sat on the counter next to the sink. You don't move, as the ringing in your head was too distracting. You just continue to rock back and forth until it stops.

Then it starts again. You wait. It stops.

This happens 6 more times, and each time you ignore it as you continue to dry heave into the toilet.

The next thing you hear is your bathroom door opening and arms wrapping around you. You don't know who it is, but you've got a pretty good idea.

You can hear muffled yelling, but you can't hear what anyone is saying. You put your hands over your ears, as the voices, the ringing, the dry heaving, is all too much for you.

"Ple- please.. too much... please..." You sob, rocking back and forth harder, your breathing picking up once again.

You start to rock slower as the voices stop, tears still wrecking your body.

"-aby, can you hear me?" A soft, familiar voice rang throughout the now quiet bathroom.

You lift your head up and meet 6 icy blue eyes. One is your boyfriend and one being his two brothers.

You assume, since Nick is closer, he's the one who embraced you earlier.

"Baby, I need you to follow my breathing, please." Matt pleads, as he gets closer and takes your hand and puts it on his chest so you can feel it rise and fall. "Can you do that for me?" He asks softly.

You nod absent-mindedly. "Matt?" You ask, trying to recognize him.

"Yes, yeah, I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere." He reassures.

"Where have you been...?" You ask as he stretches your legs out in front of you, making it easier for you to breathe. Like you said, being with him is like a breath of fresh fucking air.

Matt shook his head. "I- I don't know, baby, but I'm here now. I'm so sorry for leaving you like this." He said. "Can I give you a hug?" He asked, his arms rubbing your arms.

You nod as tears prick your eyes. Huh, you'd think you'd be out by now.

Matt embraces you in a big hug, tears leaving his eyes quietly as he relishes the embrace. It's been too long.

You pull away, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry." You say.

"No, no, no, never fucking apologize. Ever. This is on me. I know how you get when I'm not around, and I left anyway. I'm sorry." He says wiping his own tears.

"It's okay... it's just when you're not here - it feels like I'm a mess, like I fall apart." You whisper, your voice breaking.

Matt sniffles. "You're breaking my heart, baby. I'm so sorry. I'll never leave you again." He embraces you once again.

"I love you." You mumble into his chest. "I love you, too." He says.

"Can we get food now?" Chris asks from the other side of the door. He and Nick had left to give you both some privacy, but obviously, they were growing impatient.

You laugh and pat Matt's chest as you both stand up. "Yeah, just let me shower." You say, suddenly feeling gross.

"Love you, Matt." You say as he walks out.

"I love you, too, honey."

______________________________

[katyawriteswhump]

moonlight and lace

For @steddieangstyaugust day 7 prompt, Moonlight. (Originally, it was for day 6, ‘who did this’ but then moonlight took over somehow, which gave me more time, too!)

Rating: M WC: 1880 Content warnings: kidnap, captivity, abuse, severe trauma, non-explicit horror and torture, unwanted touching, victim self-blaming, all dead dove, so yeah, I mean it, sorry! Tags: extreme angst with eventual hurt/comfort. No Upside Down AU.

Summary: That last night with Eddie, Steve did literally everything wrong… and then he went and got kidnapped and clings to fraying dreams of putting things right.

 …

Steve watched the strip of moonlight creep slowly across the cellar. With his thumb, he fretted his bloodstained lace cuff, freeing it from where it caught beneath his manacles.

Night time. Moonlight. A lump clogged Steve’s throat.

The moon had shone that last time he’d seen Eddie—not imagined, nor hallucinated, but properly laid eyes on his boyfriend, Eddie Munson. He and Eddie had kissed, and Steve had been in a rush. Crap, he’d been in a shitty mood, and he’d taken Eddie’s smoochy sweetness for granted.

Not anymore.

He’d relived each moment of that parting a thousand times over. Eddie had wound his arms around Steve’s neck and rubbed his face in Steve’s hair. “I could get high on you, Babe. Even without inhaling a lungful of Farrah Fawcett.” 

Steve had wriggled free, and their last kiss had been rushed. He’d been cranky, tired, in a hurry to get home.

Now, Steve sniffled and shifted his aching bones. His chains didn’t allow him to lie flat, or even sit comfortably on the concrete floor. He’d literally trade his wretched life to press his clammy brow to a dry pillow. Or to snuggle beneath a warm blanket that would cut out the biting cold. Or to go back to that fateful evening with Eddie, and…

…not toss his entire world into a dumpster.

Because, somehow, this was Steve’s fault, right?

Scoops had been quiet the final hour of that final day, with only one or two lone customers. Robin had disappeared round the back of the store with Vickie, and Steve had gotten all intense with Eddie in a booth. His words had haunted him for… Shit, he didn’t know how long he’d been a prisoner here. He’d not scratched the days on the walls, like Dustin or anybody who wasn’t a braindead idiot would’ve done.

He’d just slowly lost count.

“It’s not that I don’t wanna be with you, Eddie,” he’d said, back in that booth, idly picking the fudge topping from their shared sundae. “It’s only that… Look, I always dreamed about a wedding and then family, and I just can’t wrap my head around how that’s gonna work with us. I mean, I know I’m only nineteen and all, but if we’re gonna foster or adopt, we have to think about this adult shit. And, seriously, I want a proper wedding, which isn’t even legal! Could be one day, though, and Robin says we need to make a stand about these things, so we gotta think about costume and—”

“Sssssh.” Eddie had pressed his fingertips to Steve’s lips. “We’ll make it work, Babe.”

Steve scowled, and Eddie’s warm touch slipped away. “You gonna give me more bullshit about marriage being a crypto-fascist institution?"

“Nope.” Eddie leaned closer and said, in a barely audible whisper, “That dude in the next booth is listening.”

Steve flicked his hair from his eyes, surreptitiously peeped. He couldn’t even see the accused guy’s face beneath his hooded top. “You’re the one who says we should be out and proud,” bitched Steve. “Why be a wuss about it now? Jesus!”

“It’s not that, Honey. He keeps staring at you, and I’ve seen him here before. He’s giving me the creeps.”

“Woah. Jealous?”

“Always. But I’m being serious for once.” 

After that, Eddie had wanted to walk Steve back to his car. Of course, Steve had refused: “Like I need the Prince of Geek to defend my honor.”

They’d parted near the delivery entrance of Starcourt, and Eddie had walked away to his van. Steve had hurried toward his BMW alone, across the moonlit employee parking lot.

He’d been here, in this cellar, ever since. Long enough to understand that a future with Eddie would always have been beautiful. Might even have been that Winnebago and six little nuggets, and instead…

…there’d been that sickening crack across the back of his head and then nothing. Then worse than nothing.

In his prison, a flash of daylight between the broken shutters usually woke Steve. He’d often be ripped from a fevered dream about Eddie. He dreamed about his other friends, too, but it was always Eddie who he imagined coming to free him.

And when that too-bright light stirred him? His heart would thump like it was gonna burst through his ribcage and he’d blink the mists from his eyes.

For a magical heartbeat, Eddie would still be there, rushing toward him, arms open, eyes wide with forgiveness. Always forgiveness, because Steve craved that most of all.

“Who did this?” Eddie would ask, taking Steve’s face in his hands.

I did? I deserved it, Eddie, I…

Eddie would crumble to dust. The masked figure looming in Eddie’s place would grab Steve bodily, partially unchaining him, then hauling and twisting and shoving him toward the bucket and then… and then…

Some days, they’d strip that disgusting lacey wedding dress from him, sponge him down with ice-cold water, dress him again. Like he was a doll. Bending and manipulating him, the sicko would arrange Steve however he chose, because Steve was too weak to struggle. He was a ragdoll.

Steve had gotten good at shutting his mind down to the touching. He’d learned that skill fast—even in the early days, when they’d kept him in his Scoops uniform, and when he’d still tried to fight back. 

Which never went well. 

His movements were sluggish—he figured he’d been drugged, though his head hadn’t been right since they’d brained him behind Starcourt. Also in those early times, when he’d realized screaming meant more pain, he used to suck on that dumbass red neckerchief from his Scoops uniform. Recently, in the wedding dress, he’d battle to get to that grubby lace cuff, so he could bite and tear and chew.

That was his mornings. He was okay at night, though. Always left alone.

Until everything changed.

Steve heard shouting and thumping, the petrifying ratter-tat of gunshots, and then his own desperate cry, frail and distant. Then he froze completely, ragged nails gouging through the lace and into his palm. This was not the routine. Eddie was here and his face was eerily underlit by torchlight, rather than marbled by the moon, and it was wrong, all wrong, and…

…it’s not Eddie. It’s never Eddie. It’s HIM.

Steve attempted to curl into a ball, chains clinking, teeth grinding as he braced for… what? A gentle touch on his shoulder had his lungs jamming up.

“Hey, Steve? You with me?” The rumbling voice was distantly familiar. The smell… male and sweaty… different to that putrid musk he’d choked on too many times. “It’s me, Chief Hopper. You’re safe now, okay? We caught the crazy son-of-a-bitch, and we’re gonna get you out of here. You with me? You understand?”

Steve peeped up. Then screwed his eyes tightly shut. “Dream,” he whispered. The furnace-like heat of the other man’s body made him shiver violently.

“No, kid. I’m really here. You’re gonna be okay now.” Then, in an ear-splitting yell: “Hey? HEY! Where are those goddamn bolt-cutters? This kid is not in good shape.”

In the hospital, Steve fiddled with the IV drip then the bracelet they lopped about this wrist. He missed the tattered lace and he had to focus on something. Looking up into people’s faces was more than he could handle.

His friends were freaked by him. From the tail of his eye, he watched his parents gawking at him, like he was a china doll. Still a fucking doll. His mom squeezed his hand and it hurt way worse than it should. He bit his sore lip that, even now, refused to heal.

Eventually, he snatched a sharp inbreath, and glanced up at Robin. Her squeak reminded him of that cellar rat that’d bit his foot once. Drawing on every last ounce of his strength, he tried again and this time held her terror-struck gaze.

“Steve, um, sorry. It’s just this is the first you’ve looked at—" 

“How long since they brought me here?”

“Uh… lemme think. Eight days?”

She’d turned ghostly white beneath her freckles. His heart heaved a dull thud. “Why hasn’t Eddie come to see me?”

“He has, Steve. He visits every day. They stopped letting him in. When you see him… I dunno, he triggers something bad. You totally flake out.”

“Oh.” What more was there to say? Other than, “Can you say sorry for me?”

“What for?”

“I… I honestly can’t remember, apart from... Oh God, please, Robin. You gotta help me. I need to see him.”

The next thing he knew, he’d flung his arms around her, and he was sobbing into her chest. She hugged back, rubbing juddering circles on his back. He didn’t remember the last time he cried. Then again, his memory had more holes in it than… a frayed lace cuff.

It felt like a century between when she left and when she came back. She held his hand loosely and said, “Eddie’s here, Steve. He’s real, I promise. It’s all real and you’re gonna get through this, and you’re gonna be okay.”

“Liar.” Steve smirked, then his mouth dropped open and turned dry. Eddie stood not two yards off, clutching the doorframe.

“Stevie, listen—I’ll never forgive myself for not walking you back to your car.”

“Seriously?” Steve shrank from Eddie’s tragedy-filled eyes. Panic jostled from every angle, especially as Robin released his hand and backed away. “Well... I guess it would’ve been cool to have some company in that basement.”

“Honey, how can you joke—”

“Gotta do something.” Steve fiddled with his wristband. He sensed Eddie edging closer.

Don’t lose your shit, Harrington. Say what you have to say. You thought about it long enough.

“Look, Eddie, I’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry I was a bitch that night. I’m still up for kids, if I’m not too broken to be a parent, though you’re in luck on one thing. There’s no goddamn way I’m ever getting dressed up for a wedding.”

“I can’t laugh at that either,” said Eddie, “you’re sick, Baby.”

“Hah! No shit.”

Eddie enfolded Steve in his arms. He whispered that there was nothing to forgive. He’d known Steve was beat that night and had never been mad about it, even before Steve had been snatched. Anyhow, Eddie had apparently been dead cranky the day before it all happened, although Steve remembered nothing of that, and…

Steve tuned out. It was all too much. Thank Christ he hasn’t taken my face in his hands.

He pressed his cheek to Eddie’s shoulder, revelled in that fluffy hair, breathed deep of the scent of Eddie. Tobacco… A touch of cherry twizzlers? Really, truly, Eddie. The lights seemed to dim, and he watched the moonlight trickle through the hospital blinds.

Moonlight. Oh shit.

“This is real,” murmured Steve. “Right?”

...

(it is real, he really got rescued, okay? Unless you reeeeally wanted the angsty horror ending, but I say he escaped...)

Thanks for reading!

All my ST stuff on AO3