#there are too many great clips sigh

[h0neypjm]

"big tiddie anime bitches" | jjk

↳ Summary: Jungkook, bless his heart, has an obsession. An obsession with big titty anime girls and the idea of you dressed as them. His birthday is coming up, what better time to fulfil his weeb fantasies than on Jungkook's special day.

Alternatively...

You hate the idea of dressing up as those stupid "big tiddie anime bitches" but your love for Jeon Jungkook is stronger. Besides Jungkook will have his turn next.

↳ Pairing: Jungkook x reader

↳ Genre: smut, pwp, fluff, established relationship, 'maid for you' couple !

↳ Rating: 18+

↳ Word count: 3.5k

↳ Warnings: disgusting amount of love and adoration between these two ew, unprotected sex, swearing, spanking, titty job, oral (both female and male), spit, reverse cowgirl, lovebites, fingering, big dick! jk, stomach bulging, creampies, crying (but the good kind), dom! jk,

↳ a/n: this is a prequel to my other fic 'maid for you' however this fic can be read on its own. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO JEON JUNGKOOK MY LOVE <3

“Okay, hear me out.”

“No, Jungkook, I will not hear you out.”

With an exasperated sigh, you rise from the couch and head to your bathroom, leaving a pouting Jungkook who follows you like a lost puppy.

“Don’t you think it would be so hot though,” Jungkook tries again.

You hastily clip your hair back, eyeing him through the reflection of the mirror, “maybe for you, you pervert.”

Jungkook remains nonchalant, your claim doing little to defer his desires. “Babeee,” he whines again, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close so he can lean his chin onto your shoulder.

“Sorry that I don’t want to feed into your weeb fantasies,” you say, reaching for your toothbrush.

Jungkook’s silent for a while, watching as you brush your teeth before muttering a quiet, “fine,” and leaving you with a light kiss to your neck.

In all honesty, the thought of dressing up as Mai from you and Jungkook’s recent anime binge, ‘Rascal Does Not Dream of Bunny Girl Senpai,’ doesn’t disgust you. You’ll admit, her little bunny girl get up is hot, and out of all the other characters Jungkook has begged you to dress up as, the bunny girl outfit is probably one of the easiest costumes to get into because let’s be real, no matter how much Jungkook begs you will never paint yourself blue (he can find his own Widowmaker somewhere else).

As you finish up your skincare, you ponder over his request once again. His birthday is coming up soon, and ignoring the fact that there's a suspicious lump of presents stuffed in the back of your closet all for him, one more present wouldn’t hurt.

Entering your bedroom you find your boyfriend bundled up in the sheets, the glow of his phone highlighting his pretty face.

You make yourself known, your knee dipping into the mattress, making Jungkook turn over towards you, his arms welcoming you for your nightly spooning.

“You’re not mad at me right?” he whispers into your hair to which you reply with a snort, “no, why would I be?”

Jungkook sighs like he’s embarrassed, nuzzling his nose deep into your neck, you wiggle away at the ticklish feeling but his strong arms keep you in place. “Because I always ask you to dress up as those characters even though you always like to rant to me about the male gaze and how a bikini doesn’t count as armour.” He cards his fingers through your hair, his other hand rubbing small comforting circles on the skin of your waist, “I don’t want you to think i’m some crazed horndog who objectifies their girlfriend.”

You laugh, big and goofy, and if Jungkook wasn’t so caught up in his thoughts he would’ve kissed you silly.

“Baby I would never think that, you’ve proved to me many times that your love is genuine. But hey, I don't blame you, I’ve got great tits,” you declare, turning to face his sleepy eyes.

“And a great ass too,” he adds, gripping your bottom with a tight hold that makes you gasp.

“I love you,” Jungkook says, pure adoration across his face.

You wanna squish his cheeks so bad, “aww you love me?” comes your teasing reply.

Jungkook rolls his eyes before wriggling into a more comfy position, “just say it back so I can sleep.”

You give into your desire to squish his cheeks by booping his nose. It scrunches cutely and he opens one eye, “I love you too,” you finally say.

The lively music is cranked down and the attention is solely focused on Jungkook. He’s got a big smile plastered across his face, his cheeks a cute shade of pink as he raises his cup.

“I’d just like to thank you all for being here tonight, I couldn’t ask for a better birthday celebration,” Jungkook announces, eliciting a “I LOVE YOU JEON JUNGKOOK!” from none other than a plastered Park Jimin. Jungkook’s eyes crinkle when he shouts back a string of adoration before pulling you in towards him.

“I would also like to thank my beautiful girlfriend who planned this all out,” Jungkook says, those eyes of his that you love so much sparkling just for you.

A round of “awws” makes its way to the two of you and you shyly hide your blush into Jungkook’s chest. He gently kisses the top of your head, the flicker of his birthday candle flames creating an angelic aura around you.

When the chorus of singing finally dies down and Jungkook bends down to blow out his candle and make a wish, he wishes for a forever happiness with you.

As you approach Jungkook with the last handful of empty beer cans, you dump them into the large trash bag and wrap your arms around his backside.

“Hey,” you whisper, gripping his shirt to grab his attention.

“What is it baby,” Jungkook replies mindlessly, scrubbing a stubborn stain out of a plate.

A mischievous grin paints your visage as you tell him, “I have one more present for you.”

Placing the clean plate onto the drying rack, Jungkook cranes his next to look at you, “what! baby you’ve done so much for me already.”

Your smile only grows wider as you gauge Jungkook’s reaction to your words, “I know, but I wanted to fulfil one of your wishes.”

Jungkook pauses, his head tilting slightly as he tries to remember what you’re talking about. “What do you mean wish? What wish are we talking about here?”

You release your grip on him to lean against the counter top, eyeing him closely, “you know… the thing you wanted me to do the other week?”

He shakes his head, looking at you as if it would help him remember before giving up, “I’m lost.”

Pushing yourself off of the counter you roll your eyes, “ugh just meet me in the bedroom when you're done,” you say as you sashay out of the kitchen and into the bedroom.

There’s a long second that passes, the water from the tap suddenly getting hot before Jungkook breathes in with a mumbled, “oh, oh.” 

Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook’s eyes light up with the realisation that he was gonna get lucky tonight. He rushes to the bedroom, almost breaking a glass cup on the way. He expects you to be on the bed laid out for him, but you’re not.

There’s a sliver of yellow light that spills from under the bathroom door and a quiet “shit” that leaves your lips. Jungkook hears a snap, like a rubber band against skin, a small whimper comes from your mouth and Jungkook worriedly knocks on the door.

“What are you doing in there? Are you okay?”

When you bought the damn costume you didn’t read the reviews. You completely missed the part where numerous people recommended buying a size up. Now you’re suffering those consequences and you finally shimmy the body suit on.

“Get on the bed and wait,” you try to say as sweetly as you can, but there's a twinge of struggle that comes making Jungkook lean his ear suspiciously against the door.

“Alright, I’ll wait, but I should remind you that It’s my birthday and you shouldn’t keep the birthday boy waiting.”

You hear the shuffle of bedsheets, Jungkook probably listening to you and lying down on the bed. You stare at yourself in the mirror, both shocked and surprised at how good you look despite the fact that your tits bulge out like you’ve squeezed yourself into those corsets from the 19th century. Not to mention that the body suit is so tight that if you took a deep breath it kind of hurt, but you’ve already made it this far, and you have an excited birthday boy on the other side of the door so with small inhale that doesn’t cause your lungs to hate you, you open the bathroom door.

“Can I open my eyes now,” Jungkook asks excitedly, his tattooed hands covering the entirety of his face.

You’re standing like a stiff soldier, unsure of how to present yourself, “uh, no, don’t look yet.”

Should you pose? How should you stand? Maybe lean against the doorframe? No that’s stupid…

“Oh, fuck”

In the midst of deciding if you should pose like a bunny girl, or get onto the bed, Jungkook had lost his patience and opened his eyes.

“Jungkook! I told you to shut your eyes.”

Jungkook remains frozen, his eyes big as he drinks up your curves. He doesn’t know where to look. Your hips are rounded to perfection, thick thighs on display, your boobs practically one jump away from popping out, the cute bunny ears standing tall that surprisingly suit your features.

“Shit, is it bad that i’m already hard, fucking hell.”

Jungkook doesn’t know if he’s proud because he finally convinced you to dress up for him or proud at the fact that you’re all his. His dick however, agrees to both.

“Men,” you scoff sarcastically as you crawl towards Jungkook whose head lays against the headboard, his taut thighs spread as if to welcome you. 

You find comfort between his thighs kneeling before him and holding his chin in your hand. “Happy birthday, Jungkook,” you say, seduction dropping from your lips.

He smirks back, eyes dropping down to your glossy lips, “mmm, happy birthday to me indeed.”

It’s messy, both your lips getting sticky with a mixture of your lip gloss and saliva, but you love it. Jungkook opens his mouth, you follow his rhythm, your tongue poking out to intertwine with his.

You moan into his mouth when his hands find purchase on your ass. His big hands squeeze both cheeks before slapping them, a loud smack echoing around the room. His action pushes you closer to him, your hands on his chest to steady yourself.

Jungkook’s hands continue to wander before he giggles softly at the discovery of the cute fuzzy tail attached to your bottom.

“Cute,” he utters into your neck, licking your collarbones and sucking your sweet skin.

“What?” you pant, leaning your head back to offer more skin to Jungkook, to which he happily leaves a trail of love bites that slowly bloom along your neckline.

He pokes your butt, “you have a little tail.”

You wiggle your hips, the tail brushing along Jungkook’s hand. You move away from him and run your nails down his thighs, “whatever, get your shirt off and your dick out.”

A lopsided smile erupts on his face, “ohh bunny girl is feisty tonight.” Though, he obeys your command, pulling his shirt over his head in that weird but attractive way that boys do, and unbuckles the belt of his jeans.

Jungkook is indeed very hard, his cock slapping against his abdomen the second it's released from the denim.

You spit into your hand, gripping his cock immediately, drawing out a shocked groan from your boyfriend.

You take care of him with love, your grip tight, making sure to fist his red tip before bringing it back down the length of his shaft.

Once his cock is nice and prepped, shiny from your saliva, you wrap your lips around the head, sucking softly before fluttering your lashes up at him.

His lids are half open, to keep his gaze on you while revelling in the bliss of your heavenly mouth. “Fuck baby, love your mouth,” he groans, bringing his fingers to brush away the strands that fall into your eyes.

You continue your actions, bobbing your head up and down as you watch your boyfriend crumble from pleasure. Suddenly, an idea pops into your brain. Releasing his length from your mouth, you begin to pull off the tight clear straps from your shoulders.

Your tits pop out provocatively, bouncing slightly as they’re released from the confinements of the tight bodysuit.

Jungkook stares, mouth wide open, “wh-what are you doing.”

You’re still continuing to jerk him off, and Jungkook swears he’s about to bust a nut when you ask, “do you wanna fuck my tits?”

He sits up at that, startling you, “are you kidding? Fuck yeah I do.”

You laugh at his cute reaction and flick your hair so it falls off your shoulder, you gotta make sure the girls are all clear for your man after all.

Jungkook holds the base of his cock and you use your hands to press your tits together. He slides in with ease, a hiss and a small “shit” falling from his lips.

You keep your gaze on him, he always likes when you look at him during intimate times like this. You continue your stare, eyes hazy and you let drool dribble out of your mouth, letting it run

down your cleavage and onto his tip. His dick twitches in response and you hide your smile by biting your lip.

Holding your tits together you bounce them up and down, you stick your tongue out teasingly, letting it connect to his tip every time his cock peeps through your cleavage.

“Does it feel good baby?” you ask, helping Jungkook speed up the rhythm of his thrusts. “Mmm God, feels so good baby,” he whines and you swear a flood breaks out in your panties.

You love to please him, his eyes fluttering shut, until he takes his cock out of your hold. “Come here love, I'm gonna cum if you keep going. It's my turn now.”

You pout at the loss of his warmth, “babe it's your birthday, today is all about you. Let me take care of you.”

Jungkook gets up, pulling his jeans fully off his body, leaving his stark naked in front of you. You shamelessly ogle his body, he’s just so fine! 

“There’s a flaw in your logic there babe. Today is all about me, therefore I get to decide what I want to do. And what I want to do is eat you out.”

“Alright birthday boy,” you grin, switching places with Jungkook. Before you lay down you start to remove your bodysuit, that’s until Jungkook lets out a choked, “no! Keep it on.”

You pause, head cocking to the side, “but how are you gonna-”

“Shh, don’t even worry about it, leave all the work to me babe.”

And work he does as he gets right into pleasuring you.

Jungkook starts by teasing you slowly, kissing your heat over the thin material. “Shit baby, you’ve soaked your costume,” he jibes, hooking his thumbs under the elastic to reveal your dripping slit.

You feel his hot breath as it hits your pussy making you involuntarily clench at what’s to come. “Fuck, baby you’ve got the prettiest pussy in the world.”

You cross your arms over your face embarrassed, “Jungkook, please.”

Jungkook listens, flattening his tongue against you, tasting you.

You inhale sharply as Jungkook pulls the costume back more and you fist the sheets when he finally dives in.

“Oh, God! Jungkook!” you moan, basking in the electric pleasure that shoots through you as Jungkook sucks and tongues at your clit like a man starved.

With his free hand, he pops two fingers in his mouth, watching your flushed expression with dark eyes. You feel his fingers at the entrance of your hole, teasing you as his tongue continues to draw pictures on your swollen nub.

Your thighs clench around Jungkook’s head when he slips two of his fingers inside of you. “Ah! Feels so good, baby.”

He says nothing, his reply coming through the wet sounds of his mouth and fingers.

Jungkook is skilled, used to all the signs and crevices of your body, so when your hips begin to lift, and your toes begin to clench, Jungkook keeps at his pace.

His mouth opens and closes around your heat, his fingers curling inside as you explode, your orgasm completely swallowing you.

You throw your head back into the pillows, a whine bubbling out of your mouth. Once your hips settle back down, Jungkook knows the high is over, releasing his mouth and fingers off of you.

Your costume snaps back into place and you sigh, Jungkook crawling on top of you, a cheeky grin plastered on his face. He always gets so cocky after making you cum.

He kisses you again and you melt, tasting yourself on his tongue.

His hands find your waist and you squeal into his neck as he swiftly flips you on top of him. You brush away the hair that had fallen into your face from the abrupt movement, “your strength continues to amaze me,” you giggle, smiling down sweetly at Jungkook. 

You kiss him again because you simply can’t get enough of him, he slaps your ass grabbing your attention. “I want you to turn around.”

You almost frown, “but I want you to look at me when I ride you.”

He runs a ringer down your arm before squeezing your boob in his palm, “you will baby just turn around for me first.”

You comply anyway, turning your body away from him, “you just wanna watch my bunny tail bounce don’t you,” you accuse. Jungkook laughs, “maybe.”

You don’t allow another second to be wasted, sitting up on your knees to move the sticky costume to the side. With your other hand you reach down and hold the base of Jungkook’s cock, positioning it at your entrance before slowly sinking down on him.

You both groan at the sensation of your warmth enveloping his length, your voices harmonising together in pleasure. You swivel your hips in small circles, getting comfortable with his huge size.

Jungkook places both hands on your hips, and you take that as a sign to show him how well you can ride it.

You begin with a light bounce, letting go of the bunny girl costume material as his cock holds it out of the way. You lean your hands on his thighs gaining a steady rhythm humming at the euphoria that spreads through your body.

Jungkook will admit, the sight of your bunny tailed ass paired with the ears that sit atop of your cute head is a sight that makes him release a deep groan.

His hands tighten on your skin and he thrusts up, his body spinning in pleasure, “baby you’re so hot, so tight, fuck.”

You try your best to maintain the speed, loud wet smacks ricocheting around the walls of your room. However, the burn in your tired thighs takes over, and Jungkook notices the way you start to slow down, and he’s not having it.

Jungkook takes the reins and thrusts his hips at a rapid speed that has you screaming his name. As Jungkook increases his speed, he grabs both of your arms, using them to help him piston into you at a faster speed.

“Ah! Oh fuck Jungkook” is all you can say, the pleasure vibrating all over your skin. A mix of both your essences melds together and drips down your thighs, you sigh and fall back against his chest. You can finally see Jungkook, and god, he’s so pretty.

Jungkook continues to thrust into you, his breath staggered and rough as it rushes against your ear. Your tits bounce ferociously like those hentai videos you’ve caught him watching, and as you expected, he grabs one in his hand rubbing a finger over your nipple and squeezing the other.

You pant in his neck, leaving small kisses on his hot skin to which he turns his head to offer you his lips.

Jungkook’s hand releases your tit to find your clit, rubbing fast circles that push you further to your release.

Your mouth falls open, unable to speak. Jungkook is focused on the way your bodies meet, his eyes wide when he notices something.

“Holy shit, look at that love, my dick so big you can see it through your stomach.”

You raise your head, eyes almost crossing at the sight of the bulge that pokes through your stomach every time Jungkook sends a hard thrust into you.

You can’t take it anymore, “Jungkook! Baby I’m gonna cum,” you feel your eyes starting to water at the impending explosion of your orgasm.

You know Jungkook is close, his teeth wrapped around his bottom lip, “yeah, hold it baby I’m almost there, fuck I love you.”

You could almost cry. “I love you so much too Koo.”

With one final thrust you both cum together.

Jungkook holds you tightly, his dick snug inside of your walls as he starts to soften.

No words are spoken, just the sound of deep breaths and shuddered sighs. It’s heavenly. 

Jungkook gently exits your heat, his cum slowly dripping out onto your thighs and onto your bed sheets.

“Just letting you know, it’s gonna be your turn next,” you mumble tiredly, stretching your arms before wrapping them around Jungkook’s head as he continues to catch his breath.

He only scoffs in return, turning his head towards you to plant a sweet kiss against your forehead, “as if.”

Oh, you're so getting back at him.

[your-girl-mj]

Trust the procress [camilo x f!reader]

Summary: camilo courting his crush

Warning: simping camilo. and out of character. Long story

Note: I'm using he/him pronounce (for camilo), so you guys won't be as confused as i am. And she/her for the reader.

There she is again, walking around, making deliveries.

The boy can't help but sigh so lovingly, the way her hair bounces when she walks, her dress moving along with her. It's obvious that he's head-over-heels on this girl

"Don't just stare, make a move." Dolores nudges her brother, nodding her head to the direction of the [eye.color]-eyed girl.

"Are you crazy? No!"

"Why not?"

"'Cause I've tried before, and i looked like an idiot."

"Like that ever stopped you before."

"This one is different, okay? I don't want her to think of me as a joke..."

Camilo played with a few strands of his curls infront of his face, with a hint of saddened look. By that action, she knows that her brother is serious about this one.

She must be a special one

"You know... I've read so many romantic novels, i might know a few tricks for you to use."

~~

"Hey, just ask the poor boy." Her friend looked back at the boy, seeing him talk to his sister.

"You know, I can't do that."

"He's trying his best to ask you, why wont you just go for him, he likes you, you like him. Just go out already." Her friend is practically shaking [name].

"If I do that, it will be easy for him, i want him to have courage." Delivering breads to an old lady, saying 'your welcome' once she thanked her.

"you know, face his fears and know that it will be worth it at the end. But If, he did ask me directly right now, i might say no-" the girl continued but got cut off.

"What? Why? I thought you like him-"

"I do, i really do. But i still don't know him very well, just being friends at first. You can't date someone you don't know."

~~

Week one.

"Just greet her," Dolores as well as Mirabel push the boy infront of them, while hiding at the side of a house.

The whole Familia Madrigal - well, all of the kids in the Madrigal are willing to help Camilo.

He technically beg not to tell to their parents about their plan, he knows that they will do something weird about the situation.

"You need to become friends with her first, get to know each other." Knowing well that - this was the girl wanted first.

"I was expecting flowers or a pick up line-"

"You can't even saying 'hello' and you're expecting us to make you say a pickup line?"

He groaned, making his way to the girl, whose currently sitting on a bench, reading a book. As camilo walked, he took in her appearance, being mesmerize to her again.

From the new hair clip he never seen before to her small tapping on the floor.

Yea, I can't do this.

Turning around, speed walking pass his sister and cousin, with a red face. "I actually like not being noticed-"

Grabbing him by the back of his collar, Mirabel turn (dragged) his body facing the girl once more.

"You can do you this. Repeat after me, 'I am Camilo Madrigal!' "

"I am Camilo Madrigal!"

" 'and I will befriend this girl!' "

"And I will befriend this girl!"

"Great! Now, go!" Pushing him once again.

Just befriend her. being friends, that's not hard, I do it all the time.

Walking towards her once again, trying his best to calm his racing heart. He was almost infront of her, but when she brush her hair out of her face, fixing the clip so the hair won't fall off again. He lost it.

He took a few steps back, ready to go home, but he hesitated. Realizing that he will never had this chance again.

"H..hola."

NO, I MESSED UP, MY VOLUME'S TOO LOW. SHE CAN TELL I'M NERVOUS, I'M PROBABLY LOOK LIKE AN IDIOT NOW

"Hola Camilo! What brings you here?" [Name] looked up from her book, and smiled at him.

He was in cloud nine.

"Oh, uh..." okay, he was not prepared for that question.

Looking behind him, he sees the two peeking at the side of a house, they both gave him a thumbs up, and an encouraging smile.

"...I was just gonna ask you what you're reading, it looks interesting."

Dolores and Mirabel high-fived when they saw Camilo sat next to his crush, finally engaging in a conversation.

That was a good start.

~~

Week two.

For the past seven days, the two always talked. Slowly making camilo less nervous being around her. They would go around the village, helping each other, and after the curly haired boy is done with his chores, he will hang out with her.

Of course, Pepa noticed. With a loving mother like Pepa, she always make sure that her children were doing okay, even though she have trouble controlling her emotions.

When she was done watering the field she went to find her kids, just wanting to make sure that they're doing alright and not having trouble with their chores.

Her heart melt when she saw her boy talking to a girl, with a wide smile on his face. The smile is different than the smile he always wear, this one is full of adortion and sweetness.

"Ahh, i see that hijo already found someone for him, hm?" Felix comes up to her, hugging her waist, making pepa to lean in to her husband. "I can see myself on him whenever I'm with you when we were still dating."

"They look so perfect for each other."

~~

"So camilo, when are you gonna introduce your girlfriend to la familia?" Felix asked, having a little teasing expression, during dinner. But what happened next is unexpected.

Camilo chocked on his food, shifting into [name] then back to himself, coughing.

Dolores hand him a cup of water, while his father rubbed his back. "Woah, woah, slow down hijo, water."

Pepa wasn't happy though, dark cloud starting to form, glaring at her husband, "mi amor, you know i wouldn't do that to our child, i didn't mean to." He whispered comfortably, caressing her hand. Soon the dark cloud soon fade.

"Nieto, Are you alright?" Alma grabbed a few napkins, passing it to julieta, then to pepa, and so on until it gets to camilo.

"I'm fine, abuela."

"I didn't mean to startled you-"

"Its okay papa, I'm fine." He cleared his throat, "she's just... an amiga. we're not dating,"

"Yet." Isabella added, smiling 'innocently' at her primo, when she received a playful glare.

"We are not dating."

Mirabel cough, "lies." Then coughed once again.

"So flirting is normal, with a friend?" Dolores looked at her brother, teasing him.

"Guuuys!"

"Alright, we'll stop now. We just want to get back to you for teasing us so much."

"Now that — that was done," pepa paused and looked at her son, "she's a lovely girl, if you two did get together, she will be welcome to the family."

"Garcias, Mama"

~~

Week three.

" okay, we need to go to phase two." Mirabel pulled Isabella and camilo to an alley, explaining the plan. "Since camilo and [name] are now closer, we need to go to phase two, which is getting them together."

"We have phase two?"

"Camilo, did [name] ever mention her favorite flower?"

"Uh, it was [fav.flower]"

"Alright, Isa' you know what to do!"

Isabella made a bouquet of [fav.flowers], and gave it to her younger sister. "Now, gave this to [name], and say that there is no more room in the house. Go go!"

"Don't you think it's too sudden?"

"What's too sudden about giving flowers to a girl, everyone does that."

"Alright, alright, stop pushing me"

Camilo walked through the village, the two sisters close behind. As the curly-haired boy walk, he realizes that if he got rejected, their friendship will also go down.

He's already happy with being friends with her, but if she avoided him because of his stupid feelings, he can't take that. He stopped just by the corner of a house, "but what if she rejects me?" Knowing well that the two is listening to him.

"She won't,"

"How would you know that?"

"We just know that she won't" Isabella comes up to her cousin hugging him sideways, “but if you really don’t want to, we won’t push you.”

“psst! Isa’!“ Mirabel tugged her sister’s dress, which got her attention. “Dolores told me we need to push camilo to [Name], she likes him too, she’s just waiting for him to make a move” she whispered, the older madrigal’s eyes widen, and about to tell camilo but was pulled back. “he can’t know, he has to know it from her.” 

“actually camilo, give it a shot, it will be worth it.”

“yea! you can do it primo!“

“this is silly, I might as well finish my chores.“ camilo turn to the corner, bumping into a person he’s been looking for the past few minutes. the flowers scattered everywhere.

uggh, i messed up again, “are you alright? did you get hurt? i’m so sorry” 

“no, no, i’m okay,“ the [hair.color] looked around confused, “what’s with the flowers?“

camilo turn red but played it of, “I was um,” he paused. “i was gonna gave it to you, since there are no more room in the house,” crouching down, he picked up the now worn up flowers one by one with a disapointing expression, [name] soon join him, picking up the flowers “you’ve mention that it was your favorite flower, but I guess it didn’t thorn up well.” They both shared a laugh.

"Its not even funny-" the older madrigal sister nudged mirabel, for interrupting the moment.

The curly haired boy found a fresh [fav.flower], it was not worn out nor torn up. He guessed that either Isabella dropped it, or the flower just got lucky.

He turned to the girl, who seem distracted by the flowers, she also played some of it before collecting more once again.

Breathing in and out, calm his racing heart, he reached over to the girl, and put the flower to her ear, "it suits you."

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA, I DID IT

Crimson dusted her cheeks, "thank you." Smiling sweetly at the boy, clear not expecting him to make a move.

Her smile, her beautiful smile. She really is worth it, no matter how hard it will be, she is worth it.

~~

Week four.

The two's relationship improved from being close friends, to being awkward crushes.

They would flirt but not openly when they were with the others, sometimes it will be just pickup lines, and sometimes it will be harmless pranks.

Most pickup lines are either cheesy or smooth,

"No wonder why the sky is gray. because all the color is in your eyes"

"Do you also have a gift? It’s the strangest thing, but every time I look at you, everyone else disappears."

"Your hand looks heavy — can I hold it for you?"

"Do you know what my ruana is made of? Boyfriend material."

"I just had to tell you, your beauty made me truly appreciate being able to see."

Harmless prank can be done by the boy covering her eyes and saying who was the person behind it, or tapping the shoulders and then going to the other side, and sometimes making the other look away and when they looked back they got poked at the cheek.

Their feelings for each other grows stronger by the second they were together. Yet, not once did one of them confessed.

Camilo always found a way to stare at her, memorizing her features, his heart skipping a beat just the sight of her. He would sometimes saw her blush, which makes him more determined to ask her out.

Her smile, Her laugh, her eyes that shine when she saw or talks about something she likes, and that was only the outside, she was kind-hearted, generous, and courageous. Everything about her is perfect in his eyes.

Their family, both the Madrigals and [last name]s are both happy about the two's relationship.

camilo is known to make people smile, now he has someone to do the same for him. [Name] is not very known to the village, due to her liking inside their household, she will only be seen when she make bread deliveries that her father made, and when she reads a book on a bench on the town-square. Seeing her being more outgoing, makes her family happy about it.

~~

Week five.

"Are you ready primo? Today's the day!"

"Calm your nerves, it will turn out great."

Today is the day, camilo will ask her out. He's practicing his lines, over and over again. He would shift as [name] and ask the mirror, but he really can't ask his reflection of her directly.

The boy can't help but became bashful when he saw her in the mirror staring back at him, his heart can’t take how adorable she looked.Sometimes he would stop between words and stared at it, mesmarize by her once again.

She's so pretty...

"Camilo!"

Snapping out of his daydream, he saw his sister standing at the doorway of his room, smirking. "You're such a simp."

"You're a simp!"

The older madrigal laughed, "come on, Antonio's waiting."

Camilo asked his little brother for help, when he learn that [name] was fascinated about Maine Coons, since they are big cats and rare, he want to give it to her as a gift if he became successful on asking her out.

"Tell her to take a good care of him," the youngest madrigal handed his brother a baby Maine Coons, its big eyes make him smile with delight, the animal is cute, he can now tell why she likes it so much.

"I will, don't worry, he's safe with [name]."

~~

"Camilo, where are you taking me?" Being blindfolded was making her trust issues rise, but knowing she's with the curly-haired boy, it make her nerves ease.

His hand gently, holding hers leading her to an unknown destination, his voice tell her where to step, and making sure she was safe is making her stomach do flips.

"We're almost there, just hang on."

All she heard was the leaves crunch underneath her as she walk, the cold breeze passing her skin.

"Aaand, there. You can take off the blindfold now."

The sight was breathtaking, blankets in spread on the floor of the mountain, having a perfect view of the village and the sun almost setting. There's a basket at the side of it, and she can smell delicious snack inside. As she looked around even more, she saw a few [fav.flower] planted near them.

She turned around, wanting to say the view is beautiful, but she saw him holding a few [fav.flower], a shy smile planted on his face. Her heart raced, already know what will happen next.

"[Name], I um... I wanted to tell you that I've like you for a very long time now, i think its started when you helped me get home when i got a huge wound on my knee when we were 5, your kindness to me make me have a little crush on you..." he paused, looking anywhere but her. "I didn't expect it to grow stronger everytime I saw you."

The girl kept quiet as he continued, "For these past few weeks, I've been trying to asked you out and I thought this was the right time to do it, so..."

For the first time since they got on the top, he looked at her, "will you.. go out with me?"

-

"I'm sorry, i realized you're just a friend to me." just kidding, she didn't say that.

-

She tackled him, hugging him, "took you long enough," she mumbled on his neck. "Of course, i would go out with you!"

Camilo was on the moon, at first he was at a state of shock due almost rolling off the mountain, and [name] accepting his proposal.

She said yes... SHE SAID YES!

He spun her around, cheering happily, but stopped when they almost fall off the mountain.

The two continued their date, being more awkward than before since they're now dating. The boy confessed about their plan for the past few weeks, while the girl confessed about her knowing his little crush on her. They both laughed it off.

"Oh, i almost forgot. stay here, I'll be right back." Camilo got up from his seat and jogged at certain direction before disappearing behind the trees. Soon after a few minutes he was back, holding something behind him.

"Where did you go?"

"Well, you've told me that you haven't seen a Maine Coons before and-"

She cutted him off, eyes widen in shocked "No way? Are you serious?"

The [hair.color]'s question were answered when camilo revealed the little fella behind him. A baby Maine Coons purring softly, his big blue eyes stared at [name] with curiosity before meowing at her.

The boy gently handed the cat to his girlfriend, who seems to be holding back a squeal to not scare the little creature.

"He's yours."

She melts, holding a hand to her mouth, "really?"

"Really." Camilo couldn't help but appreciate his clear eye sight for making him witness such an adorable view.

"Thank you, he's so cute."

"I'm cuter though," resting his chin on her shoulder, pouting.

"Yea, you are."

"Good thing that everything went purr-fect!"

[wordstro]

[20] apocalypse + ex! san + "i can't fix this, can i?"

part 19 | masterlist 

a/n: 9k words whew. also the final part! thank you everyone for showing so much support for this! i love you all!!! warnings for some very existential talks, mentions of su1c1de once again, and some setting-typical gore descriptions. i am very sorry for how this ends lol........i will say this ended a little differently than originally planned though.

-

"how does this thing always survive?" you ask san, fiddling with the beat up radio.

san chuckles, shrugging, "if the internet still existed, i'd give this thing five stars."

you flip the radio in your hands for a moment, the grooves and scratches scraping at the pads of your fingertips. the volume button is beginning to come off. you carefully clip to your belt loop and decidedly ignore the memories of the sanctuary the thing dredges up. you'd decided long ago that you wouldn't talk about the place. in fact, you're yet to visit the burnt remains, despite knowing how close it is to your cabin.

you look up at san. he sits on the remnants of a broken brick wall in front of one of the more damaged houses. someone crashed a small pickup truck through the wall. you both already scoured the house in search of anything salvageable. all that was left was broken glass and plates all over the floor. the walls were stripped as bare as the pantry. even the bedroom mattresses were stripped of all its bedding. you took great care not to look to far into it, as you usually did when you broke into abandoned homes in search of food or shelter, but five minutes ago, you both came upon a locked attic door and the stench of rotting flesh, maggots crawling along the hallway floor. how either of you can make jokes, or just...move on, when something like that sits mere meters from you is yet another thing to feel guilty about.

san kicks his feet, his hair falling into his eyes. you say, "your hair is too long."

"my hairstylist is all booked out this month," san says.

you can't help but laugh.

san gives you a small smile, his gaze lingering on your face for a long moment. you're unsure, sometimes, what you're supposed to do when you catch him lingering like that. you figure it makes sense. he thought you were dead for months upon months. he's going to look at you like he's trying to remember details of your face he'd forgotten. you give him a pass for that because, frankly, it's understandable. still, you find yourself trailing off, gaze falling to the radio once more. you don't want to deny him that, especially when you let him believe you were dead for so long, and you don't necessarily hate the lingering moments, but you don't know what to do with it. the way it makes you a little nervous, the way it makes you look away, you don't want to examine that. it's baggage you're determined to never ever unpack.

there's a beat of silence before san points at the radio clipped to your belt loop, "i'll bring extra batteries next time. i think the convenience store south of the bunker should still have some."

you sigh, "you really don't have to. i can find some on my own."

it's been four weeks since you saw san again, and you've seen him every week since then. four days. once a week. for four weeks. you'd both agreed on it after that first day, and maybe you were a total idiot to take on his offer, to let him back into your life after everything, but everything he had said that day was not wrong.

you'd thought about it all that first week. you spent so many nights wide awake, curled on your side and listening to the faint clicking noises beyond your barricaded door as you mulled over every single word san had said to you, and how he said it to you.

that second time, you'd stood far enough from san that you both had to cup your hands around your mouths to shout at each other so the other could hear, and you'd yelled, "i'm not going back to that bunker."

san said, "i don't blame you."

the look in his eyes was...sad. you'd wondered during your nights wide awake if he was ever upset with his friends for what happened. you'd wondered how that day went after he thought you'd burned yourself with the sanctuary to save him and his friends, the same friends who put you in that damned place in the first place.

you'd said, "and i don't want to go anywhere near the sanctuary. ever. understood?"

"i don't...i'd never ask you to go back there. i haven't been back since the day...since the day after. when i tried to find your body," san called, shrugging. he kicked at grass, hands in his pockets, lips pursed.

something in your chest curled at the thought. he'd even gone back there.

you'd also called, "you don't get to know where i'm staying."

san nodded, "i understand."

from then on out, the conversation faded out and you were both left in silence. somehow your weekly meetups turned into hours of rummaging through houses and stores for food and supplies to split between the two of you.

neither of you really said much, but the company was enough. at least for you. sometimes, san would hold a tree branch back for you as you trekked through trails to explore smaller towns and farms off the highway, or warn you of sudden steps. sometimes, he'd ask if you were hungry and conjure snacks.

your meetups consisted of the smallest of small talks, yet the silences were...comforting. perhaps, you've gotten used to having a companion with you - from spending most of your chore time at the sanctuary at jongho or san's side to all that time with mrs. kim - and that's why you've started finding yourself looking forward to seeing san every week.

that was something you did not wish to delve too far into. so you decided that your time with san reminded you of your time with mrs. kim. to an extent, it really did. it was as if you were both living in a little bubble of peace that did not make sense in a world like this, and it brought you a moment of serenity you thought had walked away with mrs. kim.

but the dread? the anxiety? it was still there. worse than when you sat in limbo with mrs. kim. it sat at the pit of your stomach and draped itself over your shoulders, whispering of how things were going too smoothly. how this was too good to be true.

now here san is giving you the same damned radio you'd left your apartment in the city with. it's like an omen, especially coupled with what you'd both left behind in that house. death always follows this radio, you've learned, and that thought has your stomach churning.

you glance over his shoulder, at the broken house, fingers curling around the radio.

"i know i don't have to, but i want to." san's voice drifts through the silence, "besides, i think we should have some way to communicate throughout the week."

"i..." you turn the radio over in your hands, once, twice, before you say, "okay."

you turn your gaze from san to the broken pickup truck lodged into the wall san sits on. there's a pair of fuzzy purple dice hanging from the crooked rearview mirror inside the car.

san says, "i wasn't going to give that to you, but..."

your gaze flits to san, from the way he fiddles with his fingers in his lap, to the way he turns slightly to look back at the house. he sighs, dragging a hand through his hair. the expression on his face is a familiar thing, something you'd feel lodge in your throat whenever you'd stare at that damned rifle for far too long. live with it, live with it, live with it. your own words echo in your head like a mantra, like a prayer, like a plead.

the thing about the end of the world is that death is a constant. every morning, you'd come upon mangled bodies that you believed were the fog's doing. oftentimes you'd come upon scenes just like the one in the house, bodies hanging from chandeliers and ceiling fans, or worse, with guns lodged in their mouths or knifes clutched in their fingers. it's normal, even, you'd say. each body was another guilty notch on your list of reasons to live, and maybe that does make you a naïve idiot, to let everyone else's problems become your burden. or maybe that's just what you're wired to do. either way, you find yourself frowning at san, at the clear unsaid words lingering in the air between you both.

you say, "i'm not going to kill myself, if that's what you're afraid of."

san blinks.

you roll your eyes, but your heart is lodged in your throat, and live with it rings loud in your ears and you say, "i killed all those people when i blew the sanctuary up, and that guilt eats me alive every single fucking day. i don't think i'm allowed to just...die. not yet."

san's fingers curl into fists in his lap. he says, "why did you do it? why didn't you just come with us?"

"if the sanctuary survived, they wouldn't have left us alone."

"that was never your burden to bear," san says with a sigh, dragging both hands through his hair. his eyes glitter with an unreadable emotion. those words make you come to a pause. no one's ever said that to you. not in so many words.

"should i have let jongho do it, then?"

san gives you a small smile. he says, "i guess not."

then you both fall into silence as he walks you to the edge of the forest and you both say your goodbyes.

~.~.~.~.~

with the radio comes conversations throughout the week. they're sporadic, but you keep the radio clipped to your belt even as you're wringing out laundry in the clearing outside the cabin or exploring the woods to find dry wood for fire. they start off as small pleasantries, reports even about your days.

things like:

"jongho is trying speech therapy. yunho says it'll work." san said one evening, while you were boarding up the door and windows for the night. your heart did a little flip at the name and the confirmation that he's alive and okay, despite everything.

"is yunho even a trained doctor?"

"not a paramedic like you were. but he was two years into med school when everything happened. doubt any residency would have ever given him half the amount of hands on training he's had since everything went to shit though."

and:

"mrs. kim tried to teach me how to make rabbit and squirrel traps, but we're both awful at it," you'd explained once.

san said, "i can teach you next time. apparently that's one of my talents."

"setting up traps?" you'd asked, "sounds about right."

san had groaned, "that's fair."

even:

"do you want me to bring you some books? no one reads around here."

"please," you said, "i've been reading the same book for months. i think i can recite it word for word now."

san laughed, "you can't just say that and not recite it word for word. go on."

and sometimes even just:

"good night."

~.~.~.~.~

three more weeks pass, and san's kept his word on taking you into the woods to show you how to set up traps to hunt for food.

he holds a low hanging branch as you edge past him. the ground is cold and hard, trees bare of leaves, and you both know you're not going to catch anything anyway. it's the dead of winter, and the animals are sleeping. still, san showed you how to tie secure knots, raising a brow at you in silence, waiting for your permission before he placed his fingers over yours and guided your hands through the proper motions. even Before, he'd never been quite so sweet, but you figured this was because he'd promised to start over, and the san you once knew is not the san of After. you used to think that was a strange thing, and it made you uneasy. and, maybe, it still does, to an extent. however, in the grand scheme of things, it certainly makes starting over easier.

san trips over a protruding root, and the little yelp that leaves his mouth as he catches himself has you giggling. san narrows his eyes at you, but his grin is contagious.

you don't know about forgiveness, or forgetting, or even trust, but three more weeks have passed and you think maybe you're both getting somewhere.

~.~.~.~.~

the trees start to bud around your clearing. you'd missed the foliage shading you from the sun, but the tiny pink buds of one of the trees brings a fullness to your heart you hadn't felt in a while. you'd never stayed in one place long enough to see the seasons change.

even then, winter does not seem to want to leave. it's snowing.

san blinks up at the grey skies, his nose and the tips of his ears pink, his cheeks flushed, and his hair falling into his eyes. white snowflakes stick to his hair.

you hold out a hand, and you find yourself smiling. "so pretty," you say.

"yeah," san says, and you look back over your shoulder to find san looking at you, his dimple peeking out over his scarf. he looked away first, his cheeks flushed.

you laughed. san grimaced at you, fighting a smile all the while.

maybe starting over isn't so bad.

~.~.~.~.~

only a week later, when the snow has melted away completely and the flowers are still tiny colorful buds, you trip over a familiar boot lodged in the bushes. san catches you by the arm before you can smack your face into the hard ground, but that still doesn't stop you from sinking to your knees.

you recognize that boot because you've spent too many mornings staring at them from your vantage point sprawled in the grass of the clearing in front of the cabin while mrs. kim cooked or cleaned or just sat in silence.

you and san hadn't ventured far from your cabin. you still have not shown him the cabin, but you've both been venturing the forest around it recently. the thought of mrs. kim's boot being so close to your cabin brings a sinking feeling to your stomach.

"y/n?"

san crouches beside you, his hand on your back.

you say, "this is mrs. kim's."

you never told san much about mrs. kim, other than the fact that she saved you and she left for the sea before you met san again. still, san's hand stills on your back.

"maybe," your voice sounds shrill to your own ears, "maybe she had a spare?"

and, perhaps you will always be the type to seek out more reasons to feel guilty. perhaps you really are wired for it.

because you stand up, and you start to look, and san his on your heels, quietly following you as you call for her knowing damn well she's not going to answer.

under a tree further north, you find her other boot. it's tied to the lowest tree branch by its shoelaces, the ratty black boot swinging lightly in the breeze.

you step forward, intent on looking further, when you feel a tug on your sleeve.

you turn, and san's hand remains on your elbow, squeezing lightly. his touch is reassuring. he says, "what are you going to do with yourself if you find her?"

you both know damn well you won't find her alive. you can't help the way your eyes start to sting. in fact, you try to stop the tears, fingers curling into fists. you want to shout. you want to cry. you want to understand how the hell she only made it this far.

"she was," you take a deep breath, "she was supposed to visit."

but your voice cracks as you say it, and you find yourself crumbling despite everything. you hadn't even cried like this when you saw san again and you two talked about starting over. as you stand here with one of mrs. kim's boots dangling from your fingers and the other one dangling from the tree branch, your tears do not stop. your chest hurts with the pain of it. your knees buckle. san catches you before you fall, and he wraps you up in his arms. you clutch onto him. he presses your face to his chest and you let yourself sob. you hadn't cried for a long, long time. you've forgotten how to, your breathing unsteady as you gulp for air.

you cry, and san strokes your back.

~.~.~.~.~

san sits on the steps of your cabin beside you, the two of you staring at the mound of dirt in the clearing. you'd dug up the hole and buried her shoes away. you hadn't dug the hole deep enough.

you say, "she told me she helped me because she owed you."

"oh," san lets out a small, breathless laugh. you watch him look down at his hands. the skin around his nails is rough, as if he's been picking at them. that is a habit he'd never had before. it's new. "before the bunker, i spent some time with another group. there was this girl, doyeon. i wasn't surprised she was mrs. kim's granddaughter. she was so nosy and loud just like mrs. kim. we all used to share stories and so many people talked about their grandparents, and doyeon used to say she wished she had the chance to get to know them."

san trails off, and you ask, "what happened to her?"

san closes his eyes. maybe you aren't the only one wired to carry the burden of guilt on your shoulders. he draws his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around his knees. he says, "my old group found the bunker. there used to be a lot of in-fighting. i picked a side, when i should have tried to keep the peace, but how was i supposed to know this fight would be serious?"

san lets out a shuddering breath, his shoulders drooping. it explains why he maintained such neutrality between you and his friends.

"it was five against three that day. me, wooyoung, and doyeon against five guys. things didn't work out. they beat the shit out of us. i'm talking broken bones, lots and lots of blood... we were tied up like pigs for slaughter. wooyoung had a fucking knife in him. i had broken fingers - i don't even think they've healed properly. doyeon's jaw was broken, and she could barely talk. as night drew closer, it became increasingly obvious that it was either us or them. so -" san rubs his red-rimmed eyes, "so we came up with a plan. doyeon thought of it, actually, and sometimes, i wonder if she just...knew what was going to happen to her from the moment she suggested the plan. she lured them out to the front of the bunker. i'll spare you the details, but we managed to push them out of the bunker. it was going smoothly, until it didn't. as we were closing the doors, one of them dragged doyeon out with them. i tried so hard to save her, but...but the sun was setting quickly and she decided to let go. the look in her eyes - i think she knew. woo says it wasn't my fault. either way, she died that night and i couldn't save her. the next morning, there were only pieces left of them. ears and limbs and...and doyeon's hands. woo and i buried her in her favorite part of town and we decided to stay at the bunker anyway. we decided we wouldn't let something like that happen again. that's why it's so hard for the boys to trust people, y/n, and i understand that isn't an excuse, but i think you deserve that explanation. doyeon...i couldn't keep her safe even though i said i would, and i thought i could live with that too, but then i ended up at the sanctuary and met her fucking grandmother." you watch san let out a staggering breath, his eyes fixed on the burial spot, "if anything i'm the one who owes mrs. kim."

you don't know what to say about san's admission. you remember him telling you he'd done horrible things to end up at the bunker. you remember how irritated he had been when you let it slip that you felt safe in the bunker that first night, despite the fact that you were surrounded by strangers. he'd been so angry, and now you can see why. you don't know what to say, so you resort to an attempt at lightheartedness, your chest tight.

"join the club," you mutter, your voice shaky despite your attempt for nonchalance, "i owe her my damned life too, and instead of letting me repay my debts, she had the fucking nerve to die so close to home."

san laughs, says, "she could have at least made it to the sea."

you snort, letting your head rest on his shoulder as you both sit in silence. you say, "if it's any consolation, i'm sorry about doyeon. you tried your best."

he says, "i thought i'd come to terms with it, but when you...i promised i'd keep you safe, and i couldn't do that with you either."

"you tried," you repeat, "that's what matters in the end, i think."

"it wasn't enough."

"it will be."

you can hear the sharp intake of breath, the way san stiffens under your head, but he does not move. he does not say anything.

you hear a sniffle. he says, "you think so?"

you push away to look up at him. he peers down at you, his face inches from yours. his eyes are glassy, and his hair is too long, and his nose is tinged red, and he looks so otherworldly, like a painting. his honeyed gaze curls around your racing heart, and the sun casts gold over his sharp features. you think you understand why throughout history people went to war for pretty queens and kings.

he presses a thumb to your cheek. your heart pounds.

you say, "you really need a haircut."

san laughs. you could drown, you think, in his dimples and his glassy eyes and the rough circles he traces along your cheek and loud laugh.

he asks, "do you have scissors?"

"kitchen scissors."

his gaze flickers over your face. he says, "perfect."

he sits on mrs. kim's once untouched chair, and stares apprehensively at the rusty kitchen scissors in your hands.

he helps you board up the windows and door when the sun starts to set.

he opens the canned food for you. canned food tastes better, you find, when you share it with someone.

he sleeps in mrs. kim's once untouched bed, and you really do think trying is enough.

~.~.~.~.~

only three days pass when you start to notice things are...strange.

not between you and san, but in the woods.

"i think someone must have accidentally planted a shit ton of mint leaves around here. they were too small last time i saw it, so maybe now it's going to -"

you come to halt next to a giant oak tree. its bare branches stretch out to one side, trunk bowed, as if it is a giant looming over you. nailed to the trunk sits a purple piece of cloth. it's flag-like in its shape. it flutters in the breeze. a chill runs straight down your back. you hadn't seen a purple flag since that day you ran into san. you hadn't seen flags since your attempt to avoid the sanctuary. the fact of the matter is that this flag means that someone is out here other than you and san. and they are close.

san's voice echoes all around you, crackly and filled with static. "y/n? y/n? what's wrong?"

your stomach churns as you swivel on your heels, scanning the other trees. despite the beginnings of spring, the leaves have still not returned fully. there are so many bare branches and dead leaves. as you walk, the leaves crunch under your boots.

for a moment, you don't think you should say anything.

but you're starting over, aren't you? you're supposed to try. you don't have to -

a few hundred steps away, another purple flag is nailed to an old tree trunk. your heart jumps in your chest.

you press the radio, "what do purple flags mean?"

your voice is quiet. the ensuing silence rings loud as you step further through the forest, as you come upon another one. it's a trail, you realize, as you keep walking. maybe you shouldn't follow it.

yet you do, even as san's crackly voice fills the silence, "purple flags?"

it takes thirty-six seconds for you to recognize the trail as you keep walking, dead leaves crunching beneath your feet. you say, "there are purple pieces of cloth nailed to the trees, san. they look flags or markers or something."

a pause. "are you following them?"

"yeah," you come to a stop at the next nailed purple flag, your gaze falling on the familiar trees. the clearing. your clearing. you swallow the lump in your throat, your grip on the radio so hard you're afraid you'll break it. "fuck."

"y/n, what is it?"

you say, "it leads to the cabin."

"shit," san's voice is sharp, alert, with an undercurrent of terror curling underneath everything, "y/n, you need to leave now. get out of there right n-"

you turn off the radio, dousing yourself in the silence of the woods. it's not so peaceful now, and every crack of a branch, every rustle of dead leaves, makes the hairs at the back of your neck stand on end. you should run. every cell in your body screams at you to do so, but you find yourself stepping forward. you find yourself peering into the clearing.

wedged into the lump of overturned dirt where you buried mrs. kim's boots is a purple flag fluttering at the end of a wooden stick. there's nothing telling about it. it's merely a poorly dyed purple bedsheet, splotchy and lighter in some parts then others, wrapped around a wooden stick. still your heart pounds against your ribcage. it's as if the shoddiness of the person's work is more terrifying then if the flag was cleanly done, the way the sanctuary's had been. and a smidge of anger curls at the pit of your stomach. your eyes drift to your cabin. the door is wide open, swaying on its rusted hinges.

you back up, one step, two steps, three, until you're running.

~.~.~.~.~

you emerge from the trees to san out of breath, his hair windswept.

you blink in surprise. he surges forward, clutching your shoulders as he gives you a onceover, out of breath the entire time.

your stomach continues to churn, even as san says, "you're okay. you're okay."

you're not sure who he's trying to convince of that.

you are not okay.

you'd spent so many months in a bubble, thinking that everything would be fine. that the end of all things was this gentle, careful, serene thing where all that is left in the world is yourself and anyone you allow in it. that you could make a home somewhere and you would be okay. but the world is nothing like that. you're unsure why you ever thought otherwise. you were in that fucking sanctuary. you were robbed at knifepoint by san and his friends. you killed your mother. you've come upon dead bodies, whether by others doings or their owns. mrs. kim is dead.

you're no ghost, because at least ghosts wander peacefully. you will never find any peace. someone or something will always find a way to burst your bubble. they'll encroach on your space, and you will never truly be safe, and the realization, however late it is, is terrifying. maybe you are naïve. you thought you'd hardened after everything, but you still clung to hope. you look at still san. you still are. to have reprieve from the terror of the end of the world only to feel it so wholly all at once - it's fucking jarring. you hate yourself for ever believing the reprieve could be permanent. as long as those things float in the sky, you'll never find peace.

your hands are shaking. your vision is blurred.

your gaze slides over san's worried face.

wooyoung stares back at you.

you grab san's hands, placing them at his sides, and you squeeze them once before letting him go. you ask, "someone was inside my cabin. they fucking...they put a marker on mrs. kim's grave. purple. everything was purple."

wooyoung is the one to speak, his voice low, thoughtful, "i've been seeing purple markers all over the place, but they never led anywhere. i thought someone was just using them to help them remember places."

"you can't go back there," san's voice is a quiet thing, fragile almost, "it's not safe. i know you said you didn't want to go back to the bunker, but y/n, you cannot go back there."

"it isn't safe anywhere," your fingers curl around each other, "i'd feel safer squatting in one of these houses then staying in your bunker."

you give wooyoung a pointed look, even as you gesture at the dilapidated stone houses around you.

wooyoung rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as he cocks his head to the side, "come on, y/n. wasn't robbing me enough?"

"no, actually," you turn fully on him, stepping closer. "let me get a few more punches in."

wooyoung laughs, eyeing you up and down as you round on him. "good to see you're back in tip top shape."

"you really want me to punch you don't you?" you say, fingers clenched into a fist.

"oh," wooyoung grins, tone dripping with honeyed amusement, "i'd love to see you try."

"wooyoung, shut the fuck up," san groans, dragging a hand over his face. san puts a hand on your elbow, and you realize that you are inches from wooyoung, fists clenched, all while wooyoung grins at you without stepping back.

you step back first, glaring at wooyoung for good measure.

san says, "i'm serious, y/n. we don't know who this person is."

"or group," wooyoung mutters, his grin turning into a frown.

san nods, "exactly."

"he's showing absolutely zero remorse, san. if wooyoung's anything to go by, i'd rather get eaten by those aliens then spend a night around your snake friends."

there's a long long stretch of silence. the hairs at the back of your neck still stand on end. the three of you are still at the edge of the forest, out in the open for anyone to watch from the woods. how could you be stupid enough to think no one was ever watching all this time?

"just one night," san says, pleads really, "that's all. just so we have time to clear your place together and find you a new, safer place."

your heart skips a beat at his words, while another part of you is angry you even have to find a new place. you're tired of wandering, and you're tired of feeling scared. you're tired.

still, you meet san's gaze and you sigh. "fine."

~.~.~.~.~

the walk to the bunker had been silent. wooyoung wandered ahead while san matched your strides, his shoulder occasionally brushing against yours.

"i punched him, you know," san says quietly.

you blink up at him. san nods his chin towards wooyoung's back as he leads the way.

"so many times, actually," san smiles a little, "and wooyoung didn't hit me back once. you know him. he always has something to say back, but for months he just...let himself be my punching bag, figuratively and literally, after i lost you."

"that doesn't mean he's sorry," you say, frowning at wooyoung's back.

"in his own way, he is." san purses his lips, "doesn't mean you have to forgive him though. i know i haven't."

you blink. oh. you didn't think he was ever going to hold his friends accountable in any way. you didn't think he even blamed his friends for anything. something churns at the pit of your stomach, and it feels like the strangest bout of guilt. you say, "you love him. you love your friends."

"i think we both know you can love someone and still never forgive them," san murmurs. he looks down at you.

"still," you say quietly, "i'm sorry. your relationship is strained because of me."

he shakes his head.

"it's strained because of their decisions."

"i'm still sorry."

"at least they're trying," san says, and his tone is soft and kind, maybe even a little sad, "they won't hurt you, y/n. please trust me on that at least."

wooyoung turns into a familiar alleyway, one you'd passed through a long, long time ago.

the metal door leading to the bunker sits straight ahead. it's blocked off by abandoned cars, hiding it from view unless one knows where to look. you know where to look.

you take a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding. months ago, you wouldn't have conceded with san even on this point, but now you find yourself believing him. maybe that's stupid of you, but you find that you believe him. just a little bit.

~.~.~.~.~

the bunker is exactly as you remembered it. the strewn blankets and cushions. the comforting lights. the long hallway. the way the cold air raises goosebumps along your skin. the feeling that this place is lived in, despite being a metal bunker space.

"you can sleep in my bed," san says, from where he stands awkwardly across from you, next to the kitchen island stools. he fiddles with the hem of his shirt, though his gaze remains steadily on you, "i'll sleep down here."

wooyoung looks between you both in the silence that ensues afterwards, before he turns on his heels and disappears down the dark hallway without another word. you stare after him before turning back to san.

"no," you shake your head, "i'll sleep down here. it's fine."

san looks like he wants to argue, but he just nods. he opens his mouth as if he wants to say something more, but you hear the smallest of gasps.

you look up, and jongho is stands at the end of the hall. wooyoung is behind him, hand on his back. he meets your gaze, and you can't help but smile at him. wooyoung just rolls his eyes and disappears back into the hall, making you wish you could take back that second of gratitude.

jongho blinks over and over and over, and you can't help but let out a laugh. sure, jongho betrayed you, but he'd been a victim, and you couldn't blame him. you really couldn't. here he is, looking well-fed and like he sleeps well, and your heart feels like it's growing three times its size in your chest.

he hovers, and san steps aside, gesturing jongho forward. jongho just stares at you, waiting. you realize he is waiting for permission. that makes you deflate a bit. he likely thinks you hate him, and maybe you should, but you can't find it in yourself to hate him.

so, you hold out your arms, and jongho takes a step, another, before he walks into your arms, still so uncertain, and you say, "you're alive."

he glares at you, even as he wraps his arms around you and hugs you tight. he doesn't need words for you to know what he's thinking. he leans back, frees his arms, and makes a gesture of touching his forehead. he brings his arm down. he keeps doing it. you look at san in confusion.

"it's sign language," san explains quietly, "he says he's sorry."

"oh," you look at jongho. there's a sincerity there you'd always liked about jongho. the apology is something you realize you'd wanted until now. you press your hands to his, and you say, "i know, jongho. i know you are."

jongho nods, over and over and over, as he pulls you into another hug.

~.~.~.~.~

in a way, you expected this eventually. the bunker was only so big.

but jongho asked if you wanted to talk upstairs, and you ended up in that living room once more. san stayed behind downstairs. when you'd pulled yourself through the hatch to the living room, that same feeling you'd felt the first time hit you all at once. the coziness of the room, the home that was so obviously made here, it hurt worse this time knowing that you'd built something like it in the woods and it was encroached upon by intruders. it's like you lost normalcy a second time, and it makes you so angry, yet so fucking sad.

you'd sat on the couch and jongho took out a notebook, and he asked, how are you alive?

you started from the beginning, recounting mrs. kim and your time with her. robbing wooyoung and yunho. jongho giggled at that. you spoke of your time with san. it wasn't a very long story, but it was the first time you'd spoken of it all at once, and it was yours. you hadn't had much that you could call yours since the world ended.

where will you go after tonight? jongho asked.

"i don't know," you said. jongho put his hand over yours. he seemed to be thinking, his brows furrowed, but before you can say more, there are footsteps hurrying down the stairs in the corner.

you look up, and the person comes to a screeching halt at the threshold to the living room, his eyes widening as he meets your gaze.

it's yeosang.

you shoot to your feet.

yeosang frowns as he steps further into the room, his eyes narrowing as he glances between jongho and yourself.

he says, "are you fucking kidding me?"

his voice is loud, angry, and your fingers curl into fists. suddenly, all the anger you've ever felt, from wandering as ghost, from your time at the sanctuary, from learning of all the betrayals, from the death of mrs. kim, from the fact that your cabin was broken into, bubbles at the pit of your stomach, and all you see is fucking red.

"someone's been keep tabs on you and san's first thought is to bring you here?" yeosang grits his teeth as he scowls at you.

"is that really going to be the first thing you say to me?" you ask, matching his tone. you step closer to him, and he does the same. jongho steps in, putting a hand on yeosang's shoulder, and he shrugs it off, his jaw clenching as he peers at you.

yeosang says, "do you want an apology or something?"

"yes," you grit.

yeosang rolls his eyes.

you can't help it when you swing your fist at him. to be fair, it's been a long time coming, and you'd fantasized about this moment often while lying in the clearing in front of your cabin and staring at the clouds pass by. the sound of your knuckles hitting his face echoes all around you. pain shoots through your arm, but the way yeosang doubles over in pain is absolutely worth it.

yeosang clutches his nose - it's bleeding, you realize with a giddiness you haven't felt in a long, long, long time - and glares up at you with so much vitriol, it makes you laugh.

"didn't think i'd do it, huh, asshole?"

then yeosang lunges at you, fury in his eyes.

you yelp when your back hits the ground. yeosang gets a swipe in on your face, and the pain makes you angrier. you grab him by the collar and use all your weight to roll on top. it works for half a minute before he yanks at your hair. you smack him over the top of the head. he gasps. then he kicks you.

maybe this is stupid, or perhaps you should have predicted this. it's not like yeosang ever seemed like the type to take a punch without retaliating.

before you can retaliate fully, though, you're flailing as you're pulled back. you kick and thrash in the arms of yeosang's savior, only to find that he's also being pulled away. by yunho. you look up. mingi meets your gaze, expression unreadable. mingi promptly places you on the ground. you don't move from the spot.

yeosang's nose is bleeding and his lip his cut and there's a bruise blooming under eye, so you don't fight mingi. sure, your cheek is throbbing and he may have ripped out some hair, and if you get the chance you'll punch him again, but for now you're satisfied enough with the damage you've done to stop fighting back.

yeosang is glaring at you, chest heaving.

yunho scowls between yeosang and yourself, "what the fuck was that?"

"he deserved it," you say, with a shrug.

the floor hatch to the living room swings open, and both san climbs out. san blinks between you both. wooyoung only snorts as he remains on the ladder leading out of the hatch, resting his chin on his hands as he watches.

yeosang rolls his eyes, "they deserved it too."

"you're literally acting like children," yunho sighs, shaking his head as he plops down fully on the ground next to yeosang.

the living room looks small with everyone in it. with you leaning heavily against a wall and mingi seated cross-legged next to you, his long limbs taking up too much space, and yeosang leaning against the sofa, yunho groaning with his head thrown back beside him, rubbing his eyes as he does so, and jongho sitting on the couch where you'd left him, his arms wrapped around his knees, and san with his arms crossed over his chest, looming over all four of you, and wooyoung amused from his position at the hatch door.

you scowl, "so i'm not allowed to be angry? is that it? should i just ignore what you've put me through?"

yunho frowns at the floor. no one quite meets your eyes.

"that has nothing to do with this," yeosang snaps, "you have a fucking target on your back and you've dragged us into it."

you start to laugh, and the hollowness of it is jarring even to your own ears, "do you fucking hear your hypocrisy, yeosang?"

yeosang sits up straight, his lips pressed into a straight line. his fingers clench and unclench as he glares at you, "you should have stayed dead if you were just going to bring trouble with you."

"yeosang!" san's voice is sharp as a knife.

you shake your head at san, arms crossed tighter over your chest, "no, i want to hear this."

yeosang stays silent, clenching his jaw as he rolls his eyes.

you raise a brow at him, "go on. tell me how i'm the bad person here."

yeosang says, "every time we leave this bunker, it's dangerous. every week san spends hours outside the bunker with you. do you understand the danger that's putting not only him, but the rest of us, in?"

he keeps his gaze fixed on you, but you glance at san anyway. san looks angry, in a way you hadn't seen in a long long time. he opens his mouth to say something, but wooyoung tugs at his pant leg, shaking his head.

you sigh, turning back to yeosang, "i'm not putting a gun to his head and making him meet me every week, and i certainly did not give the wrong directions to -"

yeosang scoffs, "i did what i had to do to for my people, y/n. the sanctuary was necessary. i'm sorry you got caught in the middle of everything, but i'm not sorry for what i did. we got san and jongho out. we destroyed the sanctuary. everything worked out in the end."

the anger at the pit of your stomach is tumultuous. you want to throw up at how overwhelming the urge to throw another punch is. maybe, in this world, this makes sense. you are not included with yeosang's people, and you never would be. he doesn't owe you anything. not even just a moment of genuine remorse.

"are you even capable of remorse?" you ask.

you don't mean to say it out loud, but your words spill from your mouth, and the room goes so silent, you could hear a pin drop. san is looking at yeosang, waiting for a response. mingi shifts next to you. yunho bites his lip. wooyoung just watches.

yeosang's hard expression falters. it lasts for the blink of an eye, like the flutter of a hummingbird's wings, and you only catch it because you're watching. his gaze flickers to san, as well. for just a moment. it's a tell, you realize, that you've struck something underneath his hard exterior. he clamps his teeth over his bottom lip, lips stretching into a thin line, and his gaze meets yours again just milliseconds later. his face hardens more than you've ever seen it before. if you didn't know better, you could mistake him for a marble statue, carved into the picture of insolence.

he does not respond, though, despite his façade.

yunho frown deepens as he looks at yeosang.

no one looks at you.

so you speak into the silence, "i guess not."

you get to your feet, pushing past san, past the living room table. wooyoung climbs out the hatch, moving aside from you, and he doesn't say anything either. his expression is devoid of his usual shit-eating grin and unfiltered amusement.

in the dimness of the bunker room, you wrap yourself up in a warm blanket - it's the big fur kind you grew up with, right down to the giant floral decal - and you hate how the anger is still there, turning inwards instead. you should have known this would happen. you can't truly start over with san when you share so much history, Before and After.

~.~.~.~.~

you can't sleep. you want to - you'd learned your lesson last time, and if anything the bunker is safe from the aliens, and you should take advantage of it - but you're overheating under the fluffy blanket, and the battery powered light at your side, even at it's lowest setting, is too bright. yunho brought it down for you, wordless in his exchange before he headed back through the hall. you didn't hear the opening of the hatch, so you figured he must have gone into one of the rooms lining the narrow hall. you don't want to turn off the light completely. total darkness unsettles you.

you contemplate going up to the living room and finding a book to occupy your time. at least this time you wouldn't be sneaking around.

before you can, you hear the creaking of the hatch - you'd memorized the sound, a series of cranks and a long squeak followed by a full thud - and you go still in the blanket, peeking over to the dark hall. just in case.

moments later, a shadow appears at the end of the hall. the shadow stretches up onto the ceiling due to the light from your lantern.

your fingers curl around the edge of the blanket as you keep your eyes fixed on the figure, even as you continue to pretend to sleep.

"i know you're awake," san's soft voice fills the bunker. he sounds exhausted.

you sit up. san comes closer. you dial up the brightness of the lantern, illuminating his face. you watch, leaning back on your elbows, as san takes a seat beside you and the lantern, his arms winding around his knees as he chews on his bottom lip.

it's so silent for so long, before san murmurs, "i can't fix this, can i?"

"no," you tug the warm blanket closer as you shake your head, "but at least we tried."

"i can go with you and -"

"no," you interrupt him. you can see it in the furrowed brows, in the way he frowns, that he's going to suggest something stupid. something he'll eventually resent you for. "we said we wouldn't lose ourselves in each other this time, didn't we?"

"y/n."

"you love them," you say, and your heart feels like it's being ripped from your chest. this is worse, somehow, then the anger that had been churning in you earlier. "for better or for worse, you love them. wooyoung, yunho, mingi. yeosang. they are your family. you can’t forgive them, but you can still stay with them. i can't. so i will not and cannot ask you to leave them for me, san."

in the low warmth of the lantern, san's features are softer than ever. his eyes remind you of the earth after rain. you watch as he reaches out, as he slowly presses his fingers to your cheek. first the pads of his fingertips, light as feathers, and then heavier touch of his calloused palms, his thumb. he draws small lines along your jaw, and he looks at you like he is committing you to memory, like he is determined to etch your likeness into the recesses of his mind.

his thumb traces down your jaw, along your cheek, to your hairline. around and around and around.

his wet eyes dance in lanternlight.

he says, quietly, "i'm sorry i wasn't enough."

you shake your head, and you swallow the lump in your throat, "these past few months, you were more than enough. you were everything. you are everything." your fingers curl into fists around the blanket wrapped around you, "i'm glad we at least got a little time together. without all the fighting."

"i'm going to miss you," he says quietly, "i'm always going to miss you."

"me too," you whisper, unable to articulate fully how much you agree. you'll miss him in the next life, too, you think.

his fingers brush along your forehead. then he leans in and presses his lips to your forehead. it's short and sweet, and the warmth of his hand on your cheek is enough to make you truly feel like he's ripped the rest of your heart out with that alone. he already has so many pieces of your heart, and now he's taken the rest of it.

the silence between you both is heavy. loaded. it is everything said and unsaid all at once. everything and nothing. it's you and san as you were Before, and as you are Now.

you clear your throat, leaning away to pat the spot next to you, swinging the end of the blanket his way. you say, "tell me a story please."

san smiles, his dimple appearing as he scoots in beside you, his voice soft as he tells you something about mingi stepping on yunho. his voice is soothing, soft, and, just this once, you let yourself relax with him next to you. san brushes at your hair as you do.

the next morning, he is gone. the bunker room is cold and dark, despite the blanket wrapped around your shoulders. the feeling of home you'd felt here is gone, with san.

that morning, only jongho sees you off, and you're grateful for it. you don't think you could leave otherwise.

~.~.~.~.~

one year passes, yet the year feels like a decade. time is a funny thing when you're alone, and you'd forgotten that when you'd had constant company. the things in the sky are still there. the black fog at night is denser than ever. you avoid people now more than ever. you don't stay in one place for long, though the country is too damn small to not visit the same area twice. you've traveled far enough away from the bunker where the radio clipped to your belt loop remains out of range, not once straying north. you visit the shores to the south. you find wild vineyards to the east. you remain at the outskirts of the bunker, never within range, but not quite far enough away. still, it's as if nothing has changed, as if you've never even met san again or ended up at the sanctuary.

yet everything's different. you avoid going north in case you stumble upon the sanctuary's ruins. you avoid the west so you can stay out of the bunker's range and resist the urge to return to your cabin. but a year has dulled all that, and everything different starts to bury itself away until you can pretend it doesn't affect you anymore. you've gotten very good at that.

it's summer, when you finally have the courage to travel north. this will be your first step in letting go completely, you decide the night you make the decision to go north. did you already cry your eyes out the minute you'd left the bunker while crouched behind an abandoned car? yes. did you keep doing that for months and months after? maybe. but, now you're ready to really, truly start over. no san. no sanctuary. no bunker. no fears. you can truly let go.

the hike had gone well. you were sweating through your shirt, and your water was running low, but it was going well. you felt reborn, really, from sweat and the dense summer humidity and the feeling of your skin burning under the hot sun.

as you climb over the hill, your radio starts to crackle. you must have forgotten to turn it off. everywhere you go, you gather batteries for the thing, so it doesn't die. you don't wish to delve into the reasons as to why you do that when you're never in range of the bunker anyway.

you trudge up to the hillside, kicking rocks as you go, ignoring the soft crackle. the sound is more comforting then the silence and your heavy labored breathing, anyway, so you keep the radio on. besides the radio never picks anything up anymore anyway.

some nights, you'd clicked the talk button and tried to say hello. all you were ever met with was silence. it was understandable, but it still hurt more than you liked to admit.

you reach for the trunk of the lone tree on top of the hill, catching your breath, when you hear a voice over the radio. it's unfamiliar, cutting off between words, but the sound still makes you jump.

you'd forgotten what it was like to hear voices. especially voices that aren't your own.

you fumble with the radio.

...four boxes incoming....south....open....roger.......

you nearly drop the radio when you look over the hill. in the valley sits a sprawling camp, surrounded by wooden walls that were clearly built. there are vehicles and people walking the perimeter. you can hear laughter. it's the unmistakable sound of children giggling, playing. chills run down your spine at the sight. you see military trucks at the furthest end. not every truck is a military truck, but many of them are.

your fingers tighten around the radio. the walls have makeshift guard towers. for a moment, hope sparks at the pit of your stomach. you want to trust this place so badly. there are military vehicles. there's organization. it looks nothing like the sanctuary.

at least until your gaze lands on the guard towers. fluttering at the top of each makeshift guard tower sits a purple piece of cloth. it's identical to the purple pieces of cloth you'd followed back to your cabin, poorly dyed and the color of eggplants.

dread curls down your spine at the affiliation. this isn't a coincidence. it can't be. fear mixes with that spark of hope, and you start to back away. you don't know what to do. should you leave, or should you investigate further? are they another sanctuary, or are they safe?

then you hear a familiar voice through the radio, a crackly voice that will never leave your memories no matter how hard you try to drown it away. it's been a year, yet you remember the voice so clearly, even as he says, "yeosang...open....five."

your breath catches in your throat.

it's choi san.

it's always choi san.

[anonymityisfunwriter]

Two Sides of The Same Coin - Chapter 31: "Long Live"

"Long live all the mountains we moved, I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you..."

Pairing: Sunshine!Reader x Grumpy!Bucky Barnes

Those next two months were absolutely perfect.

For the most part. 

You and Bucky were attached at the hip, you'd agreed to keep things simple for the time being. You loved each other and you were both keen on keeping things simple between the two of you. Your lives had been, and were, complicated enough. 

He doted on you, held your hand as stitches and staples were removed, helped change the dressing on your wound. While you weren't really allowed to do anything, Bucky stayed with you, choosing to ground himself from missions.

Even though you told him that you were more than capable of being alone, he wouldn't hear it. He wanted to be with you.

You two used this time to play board games- Bucky was great with card games, while you were better at the traditional board game.

You watched endless amounts of TV, catching up on shows and movies that the team recommended.

You taught Bucky how to cook, at least you tried to. It wasn't easy, you sitting at the kitchen island craning your neck to see everything Bucky was doing. He had a lot of skills and talents, apparently cooking wasn't one of them. You explained to him that cooking was one of those things that came naturally to you, it was why you liked doing it. It made you feel as capable as any other person. He kissed your forehead and told you that you were as capable as anyone else. 

You spent hours laying by your little garden, after you'd cleaned up the mess he'd made while you were in the hospital. You'd lay in the sun on a blanket, resting your head on Bucky's chest while you sat in the sun for hours at a time. Sometimes he'd listen to you talk about the many different flowers and plants that you could conjure. How there was no conscious thought between any of the elements you could manipulate, similar to how there was no conscious thought to walking, it just happened. It was the feeling, the different energy that came from them, it was just there and you'd always been able to do it. 

It was all happening beautifully, like pieces falling into place- even as the team teased you constantly.

There was no big announcement that you and Bucky were together, no big public display of affection. It was just a quiet afternoon, it was the first weeks after you were released from the hospital.

-

You were sitting on the couch, head resting Bucky's shoulder, tracing lines in his palm. He sighed, so at ease that now everything seemed like it was going to be okay. He pecked your lips once.  "What was that for?"

"Because I wanted to," he quietly remarked, paying too much attention to you to have noticed several members of the team walking in. 

“Well, it looks like I owe Steve 20 bucks,” Tony chuckled, pulling out his wallet and placing a twenty in Steve's hand. 

Bucky sighed, this time in annoyance than relief,  “You’ve been betting on us?”

“Wait- you two haven’t been together this whole time?” Clint questioned in shock. 

“No,” Bucky huffed.

“No shit, really? You’re sure?” he continued.

“Did you all just think we were going to be together?” you asked the room. 

Everyone in the room except you and Bucky all nodded and cohesively replied, "Yes."

"Huh," you nodded, turning back to Bucky and shrugging. "They knew before we did."

-

It was a beautiful summer.

The only problem was Sam.

More specifically the absence of Sam. Every time you saw him, he was brisking through the compound, like an urgent mission had arisen or there was something important you were being left out of. And sometimes, you'd catch him with a stern look on face, speaking short, clipped sentences into his phone.

You asked Steve, he shrugged and told you that there wasn't anything going on that he knew of. Then he told you that Sam was an honest guy, he'd tell you if there was a problem.

You agreed.

Sam never gave you any reason not to trust him. He was the very person that instilled that honesty in you, and always keeping that open line of communication was vital to your relationship, so there was no reason to worry.

He'd tell you what was bothering him when he was ready.

But it just kept getting worse. 

The first week, he said he was just busy. There was a bunch of reports and briefs to be done after your injury. You smiled and thanked him for taking care of it- for taking care of you. You didn't see the way Sam's jaw clenched and his shoulders stiffened as he walked away from you.

The second week, he bustled around the Compound, always on his phone, always in meetings. You told Bucky your concerns and he agreed that Sam was acting strange, he didn't know why either, he seemed fine after you left the hospital. Neither you nor Bucky were able to catch Sam's attention long enough to ask him what was going on.

The third week, Nick Fury came to see you- to check on you he said. Sam was completely MIA that week. It seemed like no one was able to reach him that week. Not you, not Bucky, not Steve nor Tony- he vanished just to reappear the following week with a strange look in his eye.

The fourth and fifth week, when you did see Sam, he wouldn't even look at you. You finally caught him in the hall during that fifth week and demanded to know what was bothering him. Nothing, he said, just busy. Everything would be fine, he promised. You were going to be just fine, he cryptically commented. You prodded a little more, asking him if you and Bucky being kind-of, sort-of together bothered him. He smiled softly, squeezed your shoulder and told you that he just wanted you happy, safe. That, above all, was what was important to him. Then he offered another cryptic comment about holding on to happiness as long as you could because you never knew when it would be over. You looked at him strangely, but nodded and told him that you missed him, that with him gone things weren't the same and you couldn't be happy without him around. He had no response to that, he simply turned on his heels and walked away. 

The sixth week, your doctors cleared you for travel, which you thought was strange considering you weren't cleared for field work- there was nowhere for you to travel to. Sam was nowhere to be found again.

You had no idea what awaited you the seventh week. 

"May these memories break our fall..."

Next Chapter

"Two Sides Of The Same Coin" Chapter List AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Lightning Bug - Chapter 2

Master Post of Lightning Bug // Previous Chapter

Warning: self harm, mention of character death, self-doubt, past trauma 

“Absolutely not.” Tony said, not even looking up from his tablet. He handed it to Bruce. The doctor looked over at it and handed it back to the billionaire . “The tower isn’t a foster care service.” Natasha leaned on the table - she wanted to voice that the tower did have a habit of taking in strays. Peter, America, Wanda, Bucky, hell she would have counted herself on that list. But she bit her tongue, she needed the approval of her teammates not starting a division. Wanda gently touched her knee underneath the table. It wasn’t many she had to plead her case too that she invited a complete stranger into their home. Natasha understood Tony’s hesitation. She did. But she knew that the teen needed a place to call home. A home should be a place where you should feel the safest - home was a concept Natasha went a very long time without. Now she wanted to extend their home to Y/n. 

“I think it’s a great idea,” America said, placing her feet on the table but instantly got pushed down by Rhodey. She glared at him and began to throw a tennis ball into the air. 

“You do?” Natasha questioned slowly. America nodded. 

“I need more people my age on the team. Someone who understands going through teenage angst.” Somehow Natasha wasn’t sure if their ‘teenage angst’ as America called it would line up but she was grateful to have another person on her side. 

“Peter is a teenager.” Tony said. America rolled her eyes and looked at the billionaire. 

“He’s a senior in high school. He doesn't count.”

“Kate?”

“She’s 21.”

“Kamala?” Tony trailed off. 

“In a different galaxy.”

“Cassie? 

“On a different coast.” Natasha had to bite her lip to stifle her laughter as she watched Tony and America go back and forth. Tony paused to stop and think but before he could answer - America put her hand up. “Besides, last time I checked this building belongs to STARK Industries and well you aren’t the CEO so it’s Pepper’s decision.” The room grew silent as Tony opened and closed his mouth. 

“I do believe, Miss. Chavez is correct.” Vision stated. Tony glared at the android. America raised her hand and Sam gave her a high five. 

“I didn’t know we could make you speechless, Stark.” Sam joked. Tony rolled his eyes, opting to not bite back with a snarky comeback. All eyes were on the CEO, who remained quiet during the meeting. She was engrossed with the contents of her laptop. Pepper looked up and eyes widened as she closed her laptop. 

“I don’t see a problem with it,” She said. “See if FRIDAY can find anything about her if you are worried.” Natasha fought to keep her face neutral as the CEO gave her blessing and resumed her work. Wanda gave her leg a squeeze. 

“Were you even listening to what Rushman asked?” Tony questioned. Both Pepper and Natasha rolled their eyes. Natasha was never going to escape the false name she used while undercover at STARK Industries. 

“Please,” Pepper said. “I’ve been with you long enough to look like I’m not listening while actually listening.” America barked out a laugh which made her snort. The table erupted into laughter even Vision chuckled at the jab Pepper made. 

“I don’t like you.” Tony said, pointing his finger at his wife. “Or you.” Next was Natasha. “Or you.” He ended at America. The teen shrugged her shoulders. 

“I think I’ll manage.” Tony sighed, setting his tablet down. 

“Since I am outnumbered. FRIDAY, please do a search for the name Y/n in the last 15 years.” Natasha cringed. She hated the idea of learning about Y/n’s story from an AI search instead of the source. She sat down, grabbing onto Wanda’s hand. 

“I found one document matching your search criteria.” The AI said. “Would you like to view it?” Pepper closed her laptop, interested in what the AI found. 

“Show us FRIDAY.” The billionaire ordered. In the center of the table, a holographic newspaper clipping floated. 

“What are we looking at?” Bruce asked. Natasha could make out the headline - ‘House Fire claims of the Life of Prominent Pastor and Wife.’ This fire happened in 2013. Natasha did the quick math in her head, if this fire happened to Y/n - she would have been 9. 

“In 2013, an electrical fire occurred at the house of  Johnathan and Leah L/n. First responders arrived at the scene to the house in flames, no survivors. The L/n are survived by their only child; Caleb.” 

“How does this relate to Y/n if they only have one kid?” Rhodey asked the AI. The holographic image changed to a picture, a young boy being held back by arms as the light of the fire was casted on his face. His mouth was open in a scream. Natasha looked away from the photo, almost hearing the boy's screams.

“When first responders arrived at the scene he was asking for his sister, pleading with the first responders to go in and save her. The paramedics on scene had to sedate the boy out of fear he was going to hurt himself or those around him,” FRIDAY paused. “Police found no bodies and no evidence of the L/n having another child.” The AI explained. 

“What happened to Caleb?” Natasha asked, finding her voice. 

“He was hospitalized and once he was released he went to live with his aunt in California.” The Black Widow had to wonder what type of people her parents were to hide her from the world. What did they put her through? 

“Thank you FRIDAY.” Tony said, resting his chin on his hands. Natasha saw a glimpse of anger in the billionaire’s eyes. His jaw was clenched. The hologram disappeared as Tony locked eyes with Natasha. “She can stay here on your floor and you need to make sure she stays out of trouble.” Natasha doubted the young girl would cause any trouble but Natasha nodded. 

“Thank you.” The room slowly began to clear out. She caught the glimpse of a conversation that Vision, Sam, and Rhodey were going to the training room while Bruce and Tony were going back to the lap. She definitely heard America suggesting Chinese for dinner, that girl was always hungry. Soon it was just her and Wanda, alone. Natasha let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Her girlfriend took both of her hands with a smile. 

“Are you excited?” Wanda asked. 

“I'm a little nervous.” She answered honestly. 

“Don’t be. She’s going to be just fine here.” Natasha nodded. Wanda was right. By being at the tower meant, the danger of living on the city street’s couldn’t hurt her.

“Do you want to come with me when I pick her up?” Her girlfriend’s eyes widened.

“Would that be okay? I don’t want to overwhelm her.” Natasha’s heart melted. 

“I’m not sure but I want you to be there. I need you there.” She confessed. It was a rare moment of weakness that only was shown to Wanda. Years of trust got them to this point. 

“Okay I’ll come.” Wanda stood up, bringing the Black Widow to her feet. “We need to go get her room ready.” Natasha smiled and they began the walk back to their floor in silence. When the elevator door opened, America was in the small kitchen making herself a sandwich. 

“I’ll be right there. Pick whatever room you think is best.” Wanda nodded as Natasha walked over the kitchen, sitting on the bar stole. The teen looked up. 

“Hey Nat,” she said, cutting the sandwich in half. “Want a sandwich?” Natasha shook her head. 

“No but thank you. I want to thank you though.” America put her sandwich down and she was about to take a bite out of it. “For agreeing to help Y/N.” She shrugged. 

“It’s not a big deal. I-” she took a sip of water before continuing. “I know what it feels like to be alone and now I’m not. So if I have the opportunity to fight for someone to have a place they feel safe I’m going to do it.” Natasha gave the young girl a smile, taking her hand in hers. She knew America had to grow up quickly due to her powers. The teen carried a lot of guilt. “I wish I had someone like you sooner.” America confessed. 

“You are here now and we’ll keep you safe.” America nodded, letting go of the Black Widow’s hand and wiped away a fallen tear. Natasha remembered the day well when Steven Strange dropped America off at the tower because she was being hunted down for her powers.   

“You are going to be great for her, you and Wanda.”     

*

4:35 pm. You stood outside Java House. You were early. But your anxiety wouldn’t let you sit still. Your backpack was tight on your pack, filled with the few clothes and possessions you owned. You were in a different outfit than this morning. You used the bathroom at the library to clean up and change into black leggings and a red long sleeve shirt. Your hands are still covered with rubber gloves. You shifted your weight on the balls of your feet. This was a mistake, you kept thinking.   

Unlovable. Freak. Abomination. Worthless. Those words that were yelled at you all of your life danced in your head. The tingle came back and this time you didn’t push it away, you embraced it. It started with intense heat that engulfed your entire body. The tingle traveled up your arms and down your legs. But the worst or maybe the best part. You felt no pain. You felt your muscles spasm and the aftermath left you disoriented, tired, and numb. But while the electricity was flowing through you, you felt nothing.   

You fell against the window as it passed. You tasted blood in your mouth as you bit down on your tongue. You spit it out on the sidewalk and watched the blood fall to the pavement. Stupid, you thought, as you wiped your mouth. Electricity needed an outlet. As energy began to build around you and in you, it needed to escape. But you were afraid to let it out. You were terrified of yourself. So you channeled it in. You allowed the energy to escape in your and through you. It was better that way. 

“Y/n,” A voice called your name. It was distorted. You shook the fog out of your head and saw jade eyes staring at you with worry. “Are you okay?” Natasha asked. You nodded. 

“Yeah,” you said, looking away. “Just tired.” It wasn’t a lie. Electrifying yourself took a lot out of you. 

“Someone wants to meet you.” Natasha said. You nodded as she waved at a black car. The passenger door opened and a brunette got out. You recognize her immediately - Wanda Maximoff, Hydra’s beloved experiment. Her powers were given to her by the Mind Stone. She could distort reality and peer into the minds of those around her with a simple flick of her hand. You did your research at the library of the possible Avengers you would meet. “This is Wanda, my girlfriend. Wanda this is Y/n.”

“It’s very nice to meet you.” She said with a smile. Her smile was warm, you couldn’t remember that last time besides Annie or Lucia that smiled at you like that. You realized you were strained and looked away. 

“It’s nice to meet you too, ma’am.”

“You can call me Wanda, okay?” You nodded. “Ready to go home?” 

“H-home.” You stuttered. The word was so foreign on your lips. 

“Yeah come on kid.” Natasha said, with a smile and led you to the car. She opened the backseat, making sure to not touch you and you climbed in. You watched as they got into the car and mirrored their action by putting on their seatbelts. The last time you were in a car, you pushed that memory aside. “Dinner isn’t for another hour or so. Are you hungry? We could stop and get something.”

“I’m okay, thank you though.” You lied. The last bite of food you had was a granola bar. You saw Wanda cock her head to the side. 

“Well I could eat. How about we stop and get burgers?” Wanda suggested. You nodded. Burgers. You weren’t allowed to have burgers growing up. But you could smell them during the summer as families enjoyed a barbecue. You’ve eaten one, an older woman bought you one from McDonald’s. It was the best food you’ve eaten.

“Do you have any ground rules?” Wanda asked. The question directed at you caught you by surprise. 

“I’m sorry, what?” You asked. 

“Boundaries.” Natasha clarified. “Stuff you don’t want us to do that might upset you.” Oh. You glanced at your hands. You never thought about that. 

“I don’t like to be touched.” You whispered. “And loud noises scare me.” A faint blush rose to your cheek. 

“I don’t like loud noises either.” Wanda said, looking back at you. 

“No loud noises and no touching.” Natasha repeated. You nodded. “You can always add more, okay? We want you to be comfortable.” You nodded again as Natasha pulled up to the drive through. There was a car in front of her. Anxiety crept through you as you stared at the light up menu. 

“Get whatever you want.” Wanda said. That did not help your anxiety as Natasha pulled up to order. You scanned the board looking for something you recognized. Natasha ordered a number 3 with a chocolate milkshake and a number 8 with a soda.�� Natasha glanced at you. 

“A six with water.” Natasha repeated your order. It was a small cheeseburger with a medium fire. Simple and the guilt you felt when the voice gave Natasha the total and moved to the second window. She handed the young girl a credit card. Natasha passed out the drinks, Wanda got the milkshake and she gave you your water with a smile. The worker handed Natasha her drink and the first bag of food. The smell made your stomach twist. Wanda glanced in the bag and handed it to you. You took out a fry and ate it slowly. It was warm and salty. You almost moaned at the taste. Natasha grabbed the last bag and drove off. You ate your food slowly, savoring the taste. 

‘Thank you.’ You said. 

“Of course.” Natasha said. The car was silent as everyone ate. You saved half of your burger for later and ate all of the fires. Fires you determined were on the top of your favorite foods. 

“How was your food?” Wanda asked. 

“Good,” you said. “Really good actually. I’ve only had one burger my entire life. I couldn’t have them growing up.”

“Why is that?” Natasha asked. 

“I-” You cleared your throat. “I just couldn’t.” You became interested in your shirt. 

“Do you work at other places besides Java House?” Wanda asked, you were grateful for the change in topic. 

“I help at a bookstore, the one a few blocks away from the café. I help Senorita Lucia with inventory.” You explained. Your Spanish wasn’t great, you could read it better than speak it. 

“Do you like to read?”

“I love it.” Your voice bubbled with excitement. “I feel the safest when I’m reading.” You answered honestly.

‘The tower has a small library. We’ll show you where it is.” Wanda smiled. You smiled back with a nod. This was going well. 

* 

Overwhelmed. It was the best word to describe how you were wheeling as you followed Natasha and Wanda into the lobby of the Avenger’s Tower. You watched as people wearing mostly STARK INDUSTRIES uniforms overed around. “The first 5 levels of the building is STARK INDUSTRIES.” Natasha explained. You nodded as you hugged yourself. There was so much energy in this one room you felt your hands begin to tingle. You began to panic. You tried to steady your heart beat but you couldn’t seem to calm down. You caught Wanda giving you a concerned look. 

“This elevator will lead you to our section of the building.” She said, you followed close behind, focusing on the couple’s calm and steady heart beat. It calmed you. The intense feeling went away. They stopped in front of the elevator and before a button could be pressed, the doors opened automatically. The couple  stepped in. 

“Welcome back home, Miss. Romanoff and Miss. Maximoff.” The sudden voice startled you and you jumped back, hitting your back on the metal wall. “Opps, I do apologize Miss. Y/N for scaring you.” It was a woman’s voice with a slight Irish Accent. But who the hell was talking?

“That’s FRIDAY.” Natasha said as if it was the most obvious answer. It was not. “Tony Stark created an AI system throughout the tower.” She clarified. Right. Tony Stark also known as Iron Man, a certified genius and founder and former CEO of STARK INDUSTRIES. For the homeless community, it was always a good idea to luke around when Tony was throwing a party. They always threw out perfectly good food. “Introduce yourself, FRIDAY.” Natasha said as the doors closed. 

“Hello. As Miss. Romanoff explained, I am an Artificial Intelligence designed by Mr. Stark to aid everyone that lives in the tower.” The AI explained. “All you have to do is ask.” 

“Ask?” You questioned. 

“If you want to know where someone is or turn the lights on in a specific room or you need directions somewhere.” Wanda said. You looked up at the ceiling with a slight lilt of your head. 

“Creepy.” You mumbled. The couple laughed. 

“You get used to it.” You weren't entirely sure if you were going to get used to it. “FRIDAY take us to our floor.” 

“Right away Miss. Maximoff.” The elevator began to move. You listened to them explain each level, there was a sup level for the garage, a lab where Bruce and Tony spent a majority of their time, and a common floor. The common floor consisted of the training room, a place for team dinners, and where team meetings were held. There was a lot to remember but as Wanda said if you couldn’t remember where something was FRIDAY could answer it. You felt hesitant about talking to an AI. The elevator stopped and the metal doors opened. 

“This is our floor.” Natasha said, stepping out. You walked into a small living room that flowed into a small kitchen. “You’ll be living here. Each side has 4 rooms.” She said, pointing to the hallways. 

“It’s us, Natasha’s sister, her girlfriend, and America; she’s your age.” Wanda smiled. “Your room is this way.” My room. You never had a place to call your own before. Natasha led the way through the living room. 

“Our room is right there.” She pointed to the room at the end, closest to the window. “And this is yours.” There was a room between yours and the couple’s. Your room faced the living room. The Black Widow opened the door. She stepped to the side and allowed you to enter first. It was a simple room but to you it was the most spacious space you’ve lived in. A queen sized bed was pushed to the middle of the back wall, with a window above the headboard, and it was covered with a black and white bed spread. A night stand on the right of the bed with a lamp. You had your own bathroom and a walk-in closet. 

“Once you get more settled in we can go to the store and pick out decorations.” Wanda said, you slowly spun in a circle taking the room in. 

“We put some extra clothes in the closet and towels and toiletries in the bathroom.” Natasha added. You wanted to bury your head in the pillow but you didn’t want to ruin it. You were far too dirty for that. 

“This is all for me?” You questioned in disbelief, looking back at the couple. They both nodded. “What do I have to do to keep this? I can clean. I’m a decent cook.” They both looked at each other, having a silent conversation. Natasha looked back at you. 

“Just be a kid.” Your stomach dropped. A kid? You didn’t know how to do that. Your whole life you were working, forced to do something. 

“I don’t know how to just be a kid.” You whispered. 

‘This is a good place to learn. We are all kids.” You smiled, nodding. You weren’t sure if it was possible for you to just be a kid. 

“How about we give you space to get settled in and unpack? We got you a STARK phone and it has a few of the team's numbers already programmed into it.” You nodded, looking at the nightstand. A phone was plugged into the outlet. “Let us know if you need anything and we’ll come get you when it’s time for dinner.” 

“We’re having Chinese.” Wanda added. 

“Okay uh thank you.” They gave you a friendly smile and left you alone. You dropped your backpack to the ground. It felt oddly heavy all of the sudden. This was your home now. No, you couldn’t use that world yet. The tower was a place for you to live in. The word home felt permanent and for you nothing was permanent. You shook your head and headed to the bathroom. 

A shower was the first thing on your list. You took off the rubber gloves and placed them on the sink, you would wash them later. You stripped out of your clothes and stared at your reflection. Your scars were a lichtenberg figure in shape (a word you had to Google), a branching of electric discharge. A word that was named after the German scientist, Georg Lichenberg, who discovered and studied the electric discharge. The scars covered your chest and arms and down your legs. The only place that was bare was your neck. You stole petroleum jelly from a drug store and only had enough to treat one area. You figured your neck was the hardest place to cover up. You looked away from the mirror and stepped into the shower. A small gasp left your lips as the rush of cold water fell onto you. You quickly changed the temperature and as the water warmed up, you couldn’t help but cry. 

*

Natasha gently closed the door of your room with a sigh. “That went well?’ She said it as a question. Her and Wanda walked into the kitchen. The Sokolvian began to go through the fridge and cabinets. 

“It did,” she glanced at her girlfriend who sat in an empty barstool. “Do you think we should order snacks? I don’t know what 15 year old's eat these days and the only one who we can ask can jump to different universes, her favorite foods might not line up with what we have on this Earth.” Natasha chuckled. 

“We’ll have to ask her.” The Black Widow sighed. “Do you see that she didn’t eat her entire hamburger?” Wanda nodded, leaning against the fridge with her arms crossed. 

‘Pietro and I had to do the same thing back in Sokovia. When you get food you ration it because you never know when your next meal will be.” She sighed. “It's a habit that will take time to break.” She pushed off the fridge and leaned in front of Natasha. “I am worried.”

“About what?” Natasha questioned. Wanda took Natasha’s hand in hers. 

“With all of your minds, your thoughts are available for me to look into.” She examples as her fingers flowed red. ‘But with hers, they are distorted. Her thoughts are muffled, I can’t see into them.’ Wanda bit her lip and her fingers stopped their glow. “I wasn’t trying to do it, it’s hard.” She defended herself. “I can feel when she isn’t 100% truthful like when she said she wasn’t hungry.” 

“What could be causing this block?” Natasha asked. 

“Well, it could be her powers since we don’t know what she can do. But,” Wanda stopped, Natasha gave her hand a squeeze. “The only other person I felt this type of block before is Bucky.” Natasha’s eyes went wide. 

“She was with HYDRA.”

* 

You stepped out of the closest wearing a long sleeve and sweatpants. It was the softest clothes you’ve worn. You went back into the bathroom and filled the sink with water to wash your gloves. The gloves were the first item that you stole after you survived the fire. Your hands were rarely left uncovered. You hung them over the towel rack to dry and walked back into the room. You emptied your backpack on the floor. All of your clothes were dirty and you threw them in the laundry basket that they provided for you. You stacked the few books that you had on the shelf of the night stand. There were two things left on the floor, newspaper clippings. You picked one of them up, it was of your parents and brother, the day your brother had his confirmation. You weren’t allowed to attend. You put it in the drawer. The last clipping was the story of the fire that killed your parents. You kept that one top of the nightstand. You put your backpack in the closet and stared at the bed. Taking a tentative step towards it and touching the blanket. You gasped, pulling your hand back and clenching it to your chest. It was soft. Almost too soft. You let out a shaky breath and climbed onto the bed, resting your head on the pillow as you stared up at the ceiling. 

Once you were old enough to leave your crib, your parents gave you one pillow and a blanket. They said you didn’t deserve the comfort of a real bed. You sat up suddenly feeling extremely claustrophobic and scrambled off the bed. “Breath,” You mumbled, running your hands against the carpet. “Breath.” You didn’t have to sleep on the bed, you could work up to it. 

A knock startled you out of your thoughts and you jumped up quickly, rushing into the bathroom to put on your gloves. “Come in.” You called out, sitting on the edge of the bed. The door opened and Natasha walked in. You noticed her eyes glancing at the nightstand. She looked relieved which was odd. 

“All settled in?” She asked. You nodded, folding your hands and placing them on your lap. 

“Yeah I uh think so. Thank you again for this.” She shrugged. 

“It’s no problem. We have the space and I wanted to help.” You nodded. “Dinner is ready. I wanted to come get you.” Oh. Dinner with the Avengers. Dinner with Earth’s mightiest heroes. Anxiety crept through you. 

“I’m not hungry.” Natasha took a few steps to close the gap between you and her. She sat on the bed next to you, towards the other edge so she wouldn’t touch you. 

“You don’t have to lie.” Your stomach dropped. 

“I’m not.” She didn’t say anything but continued to stare at you. You felt small under her gaze and you squeezed your hands together. “I guess I am a little nervous to meet everyone.” She smiled, nodding her head. 

“Do you want to have a quiet dinner with Wanda and I on our floor?” The question stumped you. It was unheard of that someone would change their plans to make you feel more comfortable. You looked at the Black Widow. Such kindness from a total stranger. It was nerve racking. 

“I’ll be okay. Please don’t change your plans for me.” Natasha looked like she didn’t believe you but she nodded. 

“I’ll bring up a plate for you.” She said, standing up. “I want you to know that you are safe here, okay? You don’t need to lie.” Your throat burned as you felt tears form at the corner of your eyes. You cleared your throat. 

“Okay, thank you.” She smiled and left, closing the door behind her. Safe. You’ve never had a place to feel safe before. You grabbed two pillows from the bed and placed them on the ground. You laid on the ground, pulling the blanket over you. You closed your eyes, squeezing them tight, and opened them. You weren’t dreaming, this was real. 

*

“Where is the new addition to the crew?” Tony asked. Wanda looked up and saw her girlfriend walking out of the elevator, alone. The Black Widow rolled her eyes and began to make herself a plate. 

“She’s a little nervous to meet you all. You are all very extra.” Natasha deapaned. Tony gasped, clutching his chest in mock offense. 

“I will tell you. I am the perfect amount of extra.” Pepper smiled. 

“Sure you are dear.” Natasha chuckled and sat in her seat, next to Wanda and across from Sam. She reached under the table giving the witch a squeeze on her leg. A silent confirmation, saying she was okay. Wanda relaxed slightly. 

“How is she settling in?” Sam asked. 

“Good I think.” Natasha said. “I can tell she’s a bit overwhelmed.” Sam nodded, taking a long sip of water. 

“If she needs someone to talk to outside all of this,” he waved his hand in a circle, gesturing to the room. “I can find someone for her.” Wanda smiled. 

“We’ll bring that up to her when she’s ready.” She said. If she was right and the young girl living upstairs was with HYDRA, she could have a lot of demons to face. Her mind was more distorted than Bucky’s mind. While Bucky was healing every day it seemed Y/n was still stuck, her mind was still there. Still undergoing the torture. Natasha gave her leg two squeezes - ‘are you okay?’ Wanda gave one back. 

“Can you tell us anything about her?” America asked “I’m dying to meet her.”

“She’s quiet, likes to read, and is a hard worker. She worked at Java House and a local bookstore.” Natasha summarized the little personal information regarding the girl. 

“Her eyes are so unique,” Natasha told Wanda about the intensity of her eyes on the ride over but they still took her breath away. Especially her scar. “She has a pretty prominent scar on her face and she wears rubber gloves.”

“She doesn’t like to be touched or loud sounds.” Natasha added. 

“Scar, eyes, rubber gloves, no touching and no loud sounds, and book nerd. Got it.” Tony said. Wanda gave Natasha’s leg a longer squeeze on her leg - ‘breath don’t kill him.’

“If you don’t mind me asking but is she gifted like Wanda and Miss. Chavez.” Vision questioned. A long sigh left the teen. 

“Viz, we’ve talked about this. Please call me America. Miss. Chavez makes me feel old and I already live with a bunch of boomers.” 

“That’s just rude.” Rhodey said, hitting the teen softly on the back of the head. 

“To answer your question, Vision, yes she is. We just don’t know what she can do.”

*

According to the phone Wanda and Natasha gave you, it was 12:36 when your hunger got the best of you. On quiet feet you snuck out and walked towards the kitchen. At a young age, you had to learn to be quiet as you would have to sneak into the kitchen and steal food. Natasha said she put food in the fridge for you as she said goodnight. But what if she got hungry and wanted it and discovered that you ate it? Would she get mad? Would she hit you, yell at you, or kick you out? “Hey, are you okay?” A voice asked behind you. You yelped, closed the fridge doors, and turned around to see who was behind you. It was a girl (around the same age as you) with shoulder length brown hair and bright brown eyes. You were normally able to pick up someone’s energy if they entered the room. You were slipping, letting your guard down. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I’m not stealing, I promise. I-” live here? The finish statement died on your lips. 

“Woah,” The girl put her hands up. “I’m not saying you are. You are Y/n, right?” You slowly nodded your head. “I’m America.” She held out your hand. You looked at the girl, down to her outstretched hand, and back to her face. America blushed. “Right. I forgot. No touching. Sorry.” She apologized. 

“Oh.” You said. “It’s okay.” They must have told everyone and they respected it. Odd.

“Are you hungry?” America asked, moving around you to reach the cabinets. She had to climb on top of the corner to reach the top. You moved to the other side of the bar and sat on the stool. She jumped down with a package of popcorn in her hand. “Do you want to share?”

“Won’t that wake up Natasha and Wanda?” You questioned. America shook her head, opened the microwave and placed the popcorn in it, setting it for 2 minutes. 

“The rooms are soundproof. We can’t hear in and they can’t hear out.” She explained. Oh. Good to know. America leaned on the counter and wasn’t shy as she stared at you. “They were right, you know.”

“Right about what?” You whispered. 

“Your eyes,” she said. “They’re breathtaking.” Double oh. You felt your cheeks heat up from the compliment. It was the one thing you truly liked about yourself. Your eyes. Caleb said they were like him when you were younger. But one unfortunate accident with your powers altered your eye color. It gave your parents another reason to hide you away. 

“Oh.” You finally said. “Thank you.” She smiled and the microwave went off causing you to jump again. America turned her back to you and dealt with the beeping. You looked down at the counter top. Everyone seemed to be afraid of your eyes. A color so rare it stopped people in their tracks. You remembered Wanda’s surprised face when she met you for the first time. A metal bowl was placed in front of you and you looked up. America filled the bowl with popcorn, got two bottles of water, and strawberries. You raised your eyebrows at the fruit. 

“Please Natasha and Wanda would have my head if they knew you just had popcorn for dinner.” She joked. You smiled. “Help yourself.” It took a minute to figure out a rhyme for both of you to grab your fill and not touch one another. You stayed quiet as America talked about the other members of the team. She talked so highly and passionate about them, you were growing excited to meet them. 

“They’re family.” She said as she cleaned up the midnight snack. “And now you're a part of it too.” Family. Such a simple yet beautiful word. 

“Family,” You mumbled on your way back to your room after you said goodnight to America. Your room. Your bed. Your own place to maybe call home one day. 

[absolutepokemontrash]

What’s Yours Isn’t Mine, But What is Mine?

Yes, I do love me some young rage baby Satan, and that’s what you’re getting tonight. Little Satan is going through some stuff, and Lucifer tries his best to comfort him.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst (nothing too severe)

Warnings: Mentions of chronic pain, minor self deprecation (sort of)

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Satan.”

The little wrath demon did not reply. He sat scrunched up in one of the library couches, his nose buried in a book. Lucifer tsked under his breath. It was well past two in the morning and Satan knew damn well he shouldn’t be up so late.

“Satan.” Lucifer said again, leaving the doorway of his study and clasping Satan’s shoulder from behind the couch. The child sat bolt upright and whirled around, his eyes were wide with momentary terror, then his face melted into a tired scowl.

Upon seeing the expression, the bags under the child’s eyes, the slight tremble in his lip, Lucifer had to refrain from wincing. “What was it this time?”

Satan gnawed on the inside of his cheek, he sharply turned back to the book he was reading, holding it up to his face to obscure Lucifer’s view.

“I’m sending you back to bed if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” Lucifer said, his voice holding that clipped parental tone that Belphie and Mammon had taken to teasing him for. Satan loudly sniffled, then snapped the book shut.

“She fell again.”

No matter how many times Lucifer had to hear those words, it never didn’t feel like a punch hammered into his gut. His entire body tensed as what felt like all the air was squeezed out of his lungs.

“A-ah.” Lucifer stiffened as he tried to take a proper breath. “I… I see.”

“You jumped after her… you didn’t catch her… Diavolo showed up and-”

“And what?!”

Satan flinched at the harsh snarl that escaped Lucifer’s throat. As Lucifer registered Satan’s panicked stare, Lucifer forced his hackles to smooth.

My… how the mighty hath fallen. The great Lucifer Morningstar, desperately praying for someone no more than a child to not know his greatest shame.

“Sorry, Satan.” Lucifer sighed, he moved to the front of the couch and sat next to the young Avatar of Wrath. The boy stiffened, his blue eyes narrowed and Lucifer subjected himself to the child’s analytical glare. “I’m just tired. I’m not angry.”

Satan held his glare for a moment longer, before sighing and nodding. He rubbed his eyes and seemed to almost fold in on himself. Normally, Lucifer would lecture him on poor posture, but at this point, the Avatar of Pride was sure his own posture was no better.

“I don’t remember anything after that… it’s too fuzzy…”

Lucifer let out an involuntary sigh of relief, which thankfully, Satan didn’t seem to notice.

“It’s so weird…”

“Hm?”

“It’s weird, Lucifer.” Satan began, his fingers slightly twitching as he spoke. “I see these dreams… These memories… they’re you, but it feels like it’s me.”

The silence that hung in the air was as thick and suffocating as molasses. Lucifer felt himself tense again as he dug his nails into his legs.

“I’m an Angel… but I’m not an Angel. I’m you, but I’m not… I’m me…” Satan looked up at Lucifer, then tilted his head. Like looking in a god damned mirror… “We were a really high ranking Angel, huh?”

Pride twisted Lucifer’s gut into knots as he digested the question. We? Oh no, there was no we.

“I was a high ranking Angel, Satan. Not you.”

The hint of a growl on the end of Lucifer’s voice was enough to make Satan lightly growl back. He bared his tiny fangs and narrowed his eyes again.

“How can you be so sure? How much of me is me and how much is… how much is just you? I was a part of you first, wasn’t I?!”

“Yes.” Lucifer said through gritted teeth as he felt his chest tighten like a python was wrapped around his torso, slowly squeezing any air out of him. Nearly every part of Lucifer’s brain screamed for him to lash out. Your achievements are not his. How dare he ride on your coattails? Were you the best and brightest of your father’s angels? Are you the greatest and most powerful fallen Angel? Or are both of you?

“You were born of my wrath, but you are not me.”

Satan leapt of the couch, pointing an accusatory finger at Lucifer. His eyes shone a brilliant and dangerous green as his fangs began to sharpen and grow.

“Then why do I feel sad about her?!”

The two demons stared at each other. Lucifer watched as Satan’s face went from defiant, to almost… grief stricken. The child’s vision seemed to gradually turn glassy and unfocused, his lower lip went from curling into a snarl to trembling. It was an expression Lucifer knew all too well. The expression his brothers had worn for years after their fall.

“Why do I… why do I miss her..?”

Lucifer watched as tears began to well in Satan’s eyes before the dam broke. Heavy sobs wracked his tiny frame as his clawed hands flew to his face to wipe away the onslaught of tears. Through the hiccups, Satan repeated the question, over and over.

“Why does my back hurt from things that didn’t happen to me?! Why do my hands begin to shake when I see those stupid angels?!” Satan dug his palms into his eyes and attempted a weak glare at Lucifer. “Why do… Why do I feel like I couldn’t save her..? Why do I feel like I ruined everything everyone had?! Why do I feel like such a stupid failure?!”

Before he could even think, Lucifer lunged forward, wrapping his arms around the little Avatar of Wrath and holding him close. After a moment’s hesitation, Satan’s shaking arms wrapped around Lucifer, clinging to him like if he let go, Lucifer would vanish.

“These feelings aren’t entirely your’s, Satan.” Lucifer said quietly as Satan’s sobs dissolved into quiet sniffles. “They’re mine. I’m sorry you have to feel them too. If it were my choice, they’d be only my burden to carry.”

Lucifer gently pulled away, and placed his hands on Satan’s shoulders. He willed the child to look him in the eyes as he spoke. “You aren’t me, Satan. We are very similar, yes. We share memories and pain sometimes, yes. But we are not the same. You make your own achievements, you’ll make your own mark on the worlds.”

Satan stared at Lucifer, his body occasionally jolting with a hiccup, before shakily nodding. Lucifer tilted his head and sighed.

“You’ve already done so much on your own,” Lucifer began, attempting to make his tone more gentle. “I’m not the one who tore apart Asmo’s sweaters, we both know full well it wasn’t Cerberus.”

A sudden bout of shakey laughter replaced Satan’s sobs as the child wiped the last of his tears from his face. “Are you ever going to let that go..?”

Satan let out a yawn, and Lucifer took that as his cue to scoop him up and carry him back to his room.

“No, I don’t think I’m going to just let that little piece of information go, Satan.” Lucifer teased as he quietly walked down the hallway and up the stairs. “After all, I was the one who got yelled at for it, and had to pay for the replacements.”

The Avatar of Wrath covered his mouth and giggled, his big blue eyes twinkling with mischief. “Well, I know that you threw a wooden sword at Michael and blamed it on Raphael~!”

“Let’s… keep that a secret between us.”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Satan was his own demon, he made damn well sure everyone knew that.

As the years flew by, any comparisons to Lucifer went from being met with bashful thanks, to tantrums, to near-homicidal rage. The Avatar of Wrath was not Lucifer, and the Avatar of Wrath was going through a 300 year long rebellious phase.

Any similarities in interest the two had shared and even bonded over were shoved into the dark corners of Satan’s mind as he carved out his own path in the world. At first this was met with a measure of pride. Ah, what a strong willed independent demon Lucifer had managed to raise. Oh what a good job he had done.

But when Lucifer’s precious bundle of rage turned his rebellion on him was when the Avatar of Pride took issue.

Satan was his own demon, now. Any offers of help or guidance was met with a death glare.

Anyone with a brain could tell Satan wasn’t the only one to blame for this, as Asmodeus and Levi were oh-so fond of pointing out.

“You smothered him.”

“You tried to raise a miniature you, and now he’s pissed about it.”

Lucifer knew they were right, but oh how he loathed to admit his mistakes.

These were the thoughts that plagued Lucifer’s mind as he sat at his desk one particular evening. He absent mindedly clicked his pen open and shut as the soreness in his lower back began to spread. He shut his eyes and gripped his pen tightly.

Oh father, why now..?

Pain like he had been stabbed in the back exploded from the base of where his lower wings once were. Old injuries like that weren’t easy to heal…

Lucifer clenched his pen in a white knuckled grip until he felt the thing snap and fall apart. Ink spurted from both ends of the pen, bleeding onto the papers scattered across his desk, and eventually seeping into the wood. Barely able to conceal a snarl of pain and frustration, Lucifer shakily got to his feet. He needed a hot drink to deal with this…

As he made his way to the kitchen, he heard the shriek of the tea kettle. Lucifer couldn’t help but scowl as nausea creeped into his gut. Whoever was boiling water was going to have to boil more because he was-

He rounded the corner and stopped dead in his tracks. Satan, clenching the ends of the counter in a vice grip, his face twisted in sharp discomfort.

“…Satan?”

The Avatar of Wrath’s eyes snapped open, he shot an ice cold glare at Lucifer as he poured the boiling water into two mugs, then dropped in the tea bags.

Fast as lightning, Satan shot one of the mugs skidding down the counter towards Lucifer, who shot out his arm to catch it.

Lucifer and Satan stood at opposite ends of the room, eyes locked to the other. No one dared move a muscle.

Satan’s face twisted into a snarl as he grabbed his mug and stormed out of the kitchen.

“Fuck you, Lucifer.” He hissed under his breath as he stormed upstairs.

Bewildered, Lucifer looked down at his mug, a familiar aroma made its way into his nostrils. A hint of peppermint, but not too strong…

Satan didn’t like this kind of tea…

A smile creeped across Lucifer’s lips as he took a sip of his drink.

As different as they were… they were still as tightly woven together as they were all those years ago…

——————————

Author’s Note

Ah, child Satan my beloved… I just have a lot of feelings… okay????

I went into this not fully knowing what I wanted it to be, but I think I hit my stride ;) enjoy, you angst hungry little devils!

[suna-reversed]

𝐩𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡

toji fushiguro x reader

You could have anyone you want

Why would you want to be with me?

I’m nothing special

WC- 8k+ || MINORS DNI !!

my fic for the “great conjunction collab”

Warnings/tags- (unprotected sex, oral sex, slight voyeurism, choking, nipple play, mating press, size kink, slight breeding kink) (historical AU, non-canon timeline, greek mythology, hades-persephone retelling, mentions of misogyny/sexism, depression, religion, hurt/comfort, angst, heartbreak, major character injury, descriptions of blood, violence and death, manipulation)

𝙀𝙧𝙞𝙙𝙖 - 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙙

It would be an understatement to say that Toji, despite being one of them, had never felt like part of the clan and had hated the whole Zenin bloodline through all his years of suffering.

And the only thing he hated more than his own blood? It was the damned nobles who looked down upon him- mocking his lack of power under whispers and rumours. The spineless cowards didn’t even have the courage to spit those venomous words at his face.

He kept note of every single one of them- it was hard not to with how their laughs echoed in his mind each night as he dug his nails into his palms. So of course his attention was bound to drift towards the mother and daughter from a titled family that happened to take residence in the Zenin estate when they got news that their home down-south had been attacked. 

𝘼𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙚𝙖- 𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮

Your home had not been attacked. It was all planned of course- your travel to the mountains up north that crossed the Zenin abode, your mother having fabricated the news so that she had an excuse to find an honourable match for you from one of the most powerful clans. Her sly spies had already done the dirty work, providing you with two suitable men- even if one of them was twice your own age and the other known for his aggressiveness. 

The white gown your mother had dolled you in and the orchids she had braided into your hair had every single eye focused on you as you made your way up to your chambers. You kept your head down, too nervous to meet the eye of anyone- hoping no older man took an interest in your facade of purity and innocence and decided to stake his claim on your body. Oh, how you wished you could get away from this life, get away from the wretched woman you had to call your mother, get away from all of it- the stupid clan- the stupid suitors- the stupi-

“Ah!” 

You yelped as your body crashed into what seemed to be a rock hard wall of muscles, the scent of night chilled mist and cedar taking over your senses. You blinked. 

Gulping, you moved back a step, ready to start sputtering apologies before your mother peeled your skin off for already having embarrassed yourself. Instead, your words stayed stuck in your throat as your gaze met with an intense pair of orbs- filled to the brim with the rage of achilles, but somehow also his sorrow. Your breath hitched in your throat, and in the back of your mind, you knew you should do something- move, apologise, scowl like a noble lady would if nothing else- but all you could do was stand there stunned, the man’s stance mirroring your own. 

You flinched as the pot-bellied butler who was leading you down the hallway came back, and you thought the dark haired man might kill him right there for interrupting the burning moment between you two. Instead, you were shocked as he let himself get pushed to the side, stuffing his hands into his pockets, head down as he made a beeline towards the exit.

You barely felt the crescent moons being engraved into your skin as your mother dragged you to your room by the arm, a clipped smile on her face. 

𝙊𝙧𝙥𝙝𝙚𝙪𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙀𝙪𝙧𝙮𝙙𝙞𝙘𝙚- 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙗𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚

“Toji”

He continued walking, even as his eyes held a warning look. Gritting his teeth, he increased his pace.

“Toji-”

He shuddered. Say it again, he wanted to command, instead he turned the corner, hands curling into tight fists.  

He had been confused at first, almost appalled, at you- at your audacity to try and act like he wasn’t who he was- a piece of scum, the lowest of the lowly in the clan. But it seemed like this is how you had decided to spend the rest of your time whenever you weren’t being flagged by suitors or being paraded around your mother as the ideal of a chaste loyal wife. 

He had indulged you the first time you had struck up a conversation. Perhaps that was his initial mistake. His second being committed just now as he turned to you, the glee on your face making bile rise up to his throat. He had seen women like you before- well born “ladies” of the court in dire need of a good fuck, before they were packaged off like objects to a husband who’d only ever look at them as a vessel for carrying his children. Toji huffed in annoyance, eyes doing a quick scan of his surroundings before he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into one of the storage rooms right around the corner. 

“Look-”

Toji cut himself off as he saw the baffled look on your face, your eyes starting to fill up with fear and panic. Somehow, he found himself speechless, the bitter words of telling you to go look for pleasure in a whorehouse now dissolving on the tip of his tongue.

He knew who you were being considered as a match for- having overheard the conversation during a clan meeting- it was supposed to be the sons of one of the higher ups and he could already picture the half wilted life you’d be living. And right then, something clicked in Toji’s mind- all those years of hatred and resentment flashing before his eyes as you hesitantly stepped back, tears welling up in your eyes, and right there, Toji knew what he wanted to do- what he had to. 

He took a deep breath and your heart hammered even harder in your chest. He had been different from the rest of them- you had known it from the first time. However, now you doubted your own wits, trying to recall the ways of combat you had seen the soldiers back home perform- even though you didn’t quite see how you’d succeed against the tall burly mass of flesh that towered above you. You jumped back as he strode right towards you- eyes clenched shut, hands raised in front of your face ready for the impact and pain. 

You were met with nothingness, barely feeling the light brush of his arm as he moved past you. 

Toji sighed at your almost childish antics, even though he agreed your actions would have been justifiable if it was any other man having pulled you into such a secluded place. He waited for you to calm down, lazily looking for the latch of the huge glass window situated on the other side of the room. He easily lifted it open, biceps flexing as he did so- placing his hands on the ledge before pulling himself to the other side.

He turned back towards your gawking figure, rolling his eyes, ready to put forward the offer that would decide if you were worth his time and effort or not. He extended his hand, trying to ignore the heat crawling up to the tip of his ears at the giddy relief-filled grin that spread across your face as he asked, 

“You ever visited the countryside princess?” 

--

You must be an angel in disguise, he finds himself thinking. It terrified him- the time he had spent staring at the column of your neck, watching your chest fall and rise with every breath- and the time he could have spent simply admiring every crook and nook of your body. 

You looked serene in the golden hour of the afternoon, lying on the grass with your eyes shut, sunlight cascading down your figure making it seem as if you carried your own halo. Toji was afraid you’d sprout wings any second now, disappearing away to someplace heavenly- someplace better than the hell you were about to be condemned to- someplace that didn’t have monsters like him. But at last, you were only a human- soon to be one of the Zenins if nothing else. 

The time you had sneaked out to the lake in the countryside with him had not been the last of your rendezvous. You had been quite different from what Toji had expected. You hadn’t made any advances towards him but you weren’t the pure little thing everyone believed you to be either.

You were smart to say the least- a trait that families often suppressed in women of your status, trying to force them into nothing but submissive concubines for their future husband. You were oddly aware of it- had mentioned your doomed fate quite a few times now, and he was struck by how you always laughed, as if your own self being stripped away was a joke. You seemed to do that quite a bit, and he understood it in some twisted way of his own plight. 

Even as his mind kept reminding him that you had still grown up being pampered, being spoiled, having others do your work for you- others like him. But conversation had flowed so naturally with you, he found himself showing you more and more of his places of solitude he had found all over the village through his years of misery.  

You were also naive in many ways, but still blunt in twice as many. Toji had rolled his eyes as he had asked you what you did with your free time back home- the answer was expected- it always had to be something related to the arts and education, trying to pump the ladies full of culture so that they have something to talk about at the dozen balls and galas they’d be attending every month. However, he had almost choked on the pear he chewed as you had started listing names of erotica after erotica- the titles being lewd enough to let him know just how filthy the content inside would be. 

You had burst into laughter at the look on his face, crumbs of fruit left on the side of his mouth making him look even more bizarre. You had reached up your fingers almost instinctively, eyes widening as you realised you had brushed them over the scar he never seemed to talk about. His hand was wrapped around your wrist in less than a second, halting it in place. 

He had stared right back at you, breaths heavy, eyes calculating as he loosened the grip around your skin, but not before he lifted your fingers to press against the mark once more. You swore you could have heard the drumming of your heart, and perhaps he did too.

As you brushed away the remaining bit of the sweet fruit, you couldn’t help but notice the flush that had formed on his cheeks, even as he scowled. 

𝙀𝙧𝙤𝙨- 𝙥𝙝𝙮𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙧𝙚.

“You’d better be quiet or everyone’s going to know what a naughty little slut you are.”

You’re bent over the table in the storage room that has somehow become your portal of escape from the person you have to pretend to be. It’s not the first time Toji has whispered his filthy administrations into your ear, but he’s never done it quite so close to where anyone could walk in and catch you red handed. 

Perhaps it was the fact that his face had turned a sick shade of green at the sight of your suitor tucking your hair behind your ear, your lips twitching upwards at something he said- the same way they had twitched up the night before when he had risen from in between your legs, the taste of yourself flooding your mouth as he had pressed his lips to yours. 

This is exactly what you were here for, and despite it, Toji knew who’s name you screamed at the end of every day. So then why did another hand on you ignite a bestial flame inside his chest? Why did he feel the need to pull you away in the dead of the night amongst the crowd of tipsy people, ridding you of the fabric of your dress in one swift movement as he had pressed you against the nearest surface. 

You didn't panic for even a moment, you knew it was his hand just from the touch of it, his hot breath against the shell of your ear, and his throbbing member pressed against the curve of your behind as a thumb rubbed circles into your hip bone. 

You throw your head back against his muscular chest, craning your neck upwards till you meet his eyes- they soften for the briefest of moments, but the way his tip brushes against your underwear-clad core seems to fill them with raw electricity once more. And you think he’s going to fuck you right there- make you cry out his name for letting another man so close to you. Instead, you gasp as his rough hands grab the flesh of your thighs, kneading the muscle as he spins you around, a smirk being flashed your way as he gets on his knees. 

He looks ethereal in that moment. And your breath hitches in your throat as you realise you’ve made a fallen angel bow before you- have tricked him into thinking you can cleanse him of his deeds when the only sinner in this room was you. The way his lips press against the inside of your thighs, nose rubbing against your freshly flowing juices- it’s tantalising, even worse when he takes both your hands in his as they try to find solace in his locks, pinning them to your sides onto the table instead. 

He rests his chin right below the apex of your mound, eyes wandering to your face as he sighs, the lazy but smug curve of his lips accentuating the scar you had grown to cherish as much as your own heartbeat.

Your chest is heaving, the sound of your heavy breathing hanging in the silence of the room as you look down at him. If this was to be his ruination- his fall from grace- Toji would die a happy man. The scent of you is lingering right below his nose, his mouth watering alone at the thought, but he cannot seem to pull away his eyes from your beguiling face, bathed in the moonlight. The words seem to escape him before he can think twice of them.

“Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting.”

You’ve barely let his words settle in before he presses his thumb right against your wet heat, rubbing small circles onto your sensitive bud. You don’t have a chance to respond as he proceeds to dive into your drenched cunt- his tongue giving kitten-licks to your clit, lapping up any wetness that dares to drip down. You cry out loud as two of his fingers join his mouth’s onslaught, slapping a hand against your own mouth remembering where you were. 

The sounds filling the room as he suctions your clit in between his lips are filthy- arms wrapping around and under your thighs, pulling your arousal even closer to his starving mouth, the new angle of your leg being thrown over his shoulder letting his fingers rub against the spongy spot inside your walls that makes the coil in your stomach snap. You’re grinding against his face and he’s letting you, nose pressing onto your clit as he licks up the remnants of your juices, fingers continuing to fuck you through your climax as they quiver and shake around his head. 

You’re still coming down from your high, body hanging limp at an awkward angle against the hard wooden surface. His strong burly arms are easily lifting you up, carrying you towards the other side of the room- right towards the glass window. Your eyes widen as you realise the malicious idea that has popped up into your lover’s head, but you’re barely able to put in two words of protest before your feet are hitting the ground, the cold surface making you gasp as your tits are pushed against it. You’re crying out loud as he rubs his thick length against your soppy folds. 

“Toji- someone could see us- we shouldn’t- ah!”

You’re cut off as he lines himself up at your entrance, a pleasurable burn down in your core as his girth stretches your walls. It always hurts. No matter how many times he’s made you cum on his fingers and tongue or prepped you up with an ointment- his size is something no one would ever get accustomed to. He knows it too, but tonight he seems to care less about taking it slow and letting you adjust. You honestly cannot care less too, not when you're gushing around him as such when he’s barely even halfway inside. 

“Too big Toji- too much.” You’re mewling, hands trying to grip onto something.

“You can take it- fuck just let me-”

He’s hastily moving his fingers across your stomach to rub your pulsing bud, groaning lewdly at the way your cunt flutters around him, letting him move deeper inside of you.

The growl that leaves him as his tip hits your cervix is grossly animalistic, making you moan loudly. His other hand is coming up to grip your jaw, cheek pressed against the glass as he lifts up one of your legs, the angle letting him thrust in and out of your poor drenched hole even deeper. His thrusts turn sloppy, eyes clenched shut above you as the sounds of his balls slapping against your flesh with each thrust fill the room.

You’re both groaning in unison, his strokes getting faster as he feels your walls clamping down on him. You’re choking on a breath as his hand moves to wrap around your throat, the sensation making you moan even louder.

“Call me selfish-”  

A sharp smack is delivered against the flesh of your ass causing you to arch your back, the action making your tits press up against the window even more,

 “... but I don’t ever want anyone else to touch you.”

His lips have been suctioned to your neck, your delightful noises being muffled as he’s turning your head to the side till his tongue slips into your mouth. He tightens his grip around your neck and you’re seeing stars, along with the pace of his fingers on your clit and his rapid thrusts making the well in the bottom of your stomach come apart, tears of pleasure slipping your eyes, the feeling of his seed painting your walls making you clench against him amidst your own orgasm.

You barely feel the arms cradling your body, carrying you to set you down on the table. You furrow your brows as Toji strips himself of his shirt, and your eyes widen at the thought of him ravishing you once more so soon. Instead, you shudder as he swipes it against your sex, cleaning up his mess. 

The way you beam at him, even in your exhausted state, is honestly worth the ruined shirt- he finds himself thinking as he moves to pick up your dress from the ground. He clicks his tongue as he realises just how much of shreds he had ripped it into in his feral daze. He’s lifting his head to meet your eyes, wondering how he’ll tell you that you have to find a way to get back to your chambers in this state- 

“Oh-”

Your saccharine voice is pulling Toji out of his thoughts, surprise forming across his face as you burst into laughter at the sight of what he’s sure has cost twice as much as all the clothes he’d ever owned combined. 

“How well do you think I’d fare going out in one of the potato sacks?” 

How could he have not smiled right back at you. 

𝘿𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙨- 𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙜𝙪𝙞𝙡𝙚

Toji had never wanted to rip his own heart out so badly before, inject his blood with ambrosia so that he could be worthy enough for the goddess that was ready to abandon her sanctity- her piece of heaven- for him. He had always known how it would end- in an empty heath of a fire gone out long ago, the only thing keeping it burning now regret and sorrow.

 Love could not have sustained you when there was barely enough space to breathe, when there was barely enough food for your kids to live off of. Once the love faded, all that’d remain would be your wish to go back to the past, getting drunk on forgetfulness so that you can survive within the stone cold walls of a house- not a home.

Once again, Toji knew what he had to do- knew he willingly stepped into this hoping to ruin what was supposed to be the prize of his own blood- in order to humiliate them and fulfill his revenge.

He also knew he was the ruined one now as thoughts of you plagued his mind day and night- how his tactful game of cat and mouse had turned into sweet kisses and hushed giggles, and how all he wanted was to find a pit stop in time where his blood did not matter, where the sins of his past did not matter. But despite it all, he knew he couldn’t have dragged you into his own hell, even if you begged him to take you.

He sighs. 

You had recited the exact conversation you had with your mother- laid yourself bare before him as you poured out your heart- letting him know that it’d be worth tasting the 7 seeds of evil even if it meant living in hell for half your life. 

He had thrown his head back and laughed. 

“You really thought our little getaways meant anything more than a fling to me? More than just a decent fuck?”

You stood still, mouth agape at the words that had slipped past his lips, a hand fisting the fabric of his shirt right above his heart, desperately searching for the pulse of the man you’d grown to adore over the past few weeks. 

He had looked down at you, the scar you had so tenderly ran your fingers over twitching upwards- in amusement- in laughter, face contorting into one of resentment- of revulsion before he had suddenly stilled. 

“Did you forget your place princess? Pretty little head got too lost in a fool’s paradise- did you forget you are one of them- always have been one of them.”

He had spat the last words at you and you wanted to shake your head, wanted to tell him he was utterly wrong, but all you could do was clutch on even tighter to him.

He had put his hand over yours and you had almost begged for him to tell you that this was a sick joke- almost pleaded for him to intertwine his calloused warm hands with yours as he always did- as he had when he made you scream his name, instead you had found yourself gasping at the icy touch as he flicked away your wrist, brows furrowing in repulsion at the contact- at you.

The tears that had slipped through your eyes had only worked to make him throw his head back like a giddy child once more. He had looked up at the sky as if he was mocking the gods in Olympus - look at how I’ve so beautifully wrecked what you created,

while you had stood there looking up at him as if he was your religion, mouthing,

this is not a joke, love me, love me.

𝙊ï𝙯ú𝙨- 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙮, 𝙖𝙣𝙭𝙞𝙚𝙩𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙛

You felt raw. But you did not fight the black hole opening up in your chest. You let it settle into your bones, nurtured the hollowness- ignited it until you felt it turn into flames instead.

You couldn’t have let the ice creep into your heart- it would mean giving up the tears, giving up the feeling of wanting to be swallowed whole by the ground beneath, and that would mean you no longer felt- no longer harboured the only thing that made you feel alive in the cage of bones and flesh your troubled mind resided in. 

There was a heavy pain in between the arch of your shoulder blades- like your wings had been clipped and your halo ripped away.

You ignored the scowl that rose to her face, the way she flinched as you leaned over to rest your head in her lap. You couldn’t tell if the wetness on your cheeks was yours or hers- mourning the daughter she was going to lose. You felt your mother’s burning gaze through the back of your head all throughout the journey back home- could already feel the wrath of your father and the nasty bruises that were to come as her hand came down to rest on your head. 

You instead found yourself being locked away immediately- not a single word from anyone. The only time your door opened was for a maid to serve you your half portioned meals. Not like you had an appetite or a will to do anything else. 

Days passed by, perhaps weeks or months, and you counted the scattered marks on the wall beside your bed like you had done once with the freckles across his back, and you waited-  for what? You weren’t quite sure yourself. You waited and waited until the day your door opened, but it wasn’t the regular pitter patter of steps of the maid who served the food.

Instead, your eyes met the raging ones of the head of your clan, and for the first time in days, an icy shiver creeped up your spine.

----

The torment you’re put through is much worse than expected. You were well aware you were to be disgraced, to be stripped of your title, but somehow the gaze of your own friends and family avoiding your beaten bloody form and ignoring your whimpers and cries of agony was what had stung the most. 

The world seemed to be upside down, fading in and out of hues of colour and greys and blinding lights. You could barely feel the blood dripping down the back of your head and into your shirt as your gaze managed to remain focused on the window outside of the rattling carriage you lay in, panic rising in your chest as you recognised the familiar scenery. 

You fought your hardest to stay awake, but you lost to the increasingly heavy pressure against your head, hoping your blood would run dry before you had to face the hell you were being thrown into. As your head lolled to the side, you wondered if satiating the hunger within you was worth the price you were paying- if this was what happened to every soul that had brought the god of the dead to his knees, wondered if you were the first to do so- wondered if you’d be the last. 

𝙃𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙨- 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙙, 𝙜𝙤𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙩

Toji had left the clan- made a living of his own by doing what he did best, by doing what he was made to- destroying and causing wreckage till there was no piece of his soul left to be salvaged. 

He had avoided news about you like the plague, and had still ended up finding out that you were locked away back at your home from the gossiping servants. He had chuckled bitterly, what had he been expecting? He was right after all, you'd never have to face any consequences in life, and soon this whole scandal would be swept under the rug and you would be well on your way to marrying another wealthy brat, having filthy little kids with him who’d have the same luxuries in life and-

Toji found his heart dropping, the axe along with the freshly chopped wood he carried thumping down against the forest floor as he reached the entrance of the wooden cabin he had taken residence in. He saw the pool of blood first- the familiar mop of hair later.

No-

He must be hallucinating- 

But he still found himself moving out of his own accord, gathering the crumpled figure into his arms, feeling a thick fluid drip down his skin- stain through his shirt as he tried to pick you up. A chill ran down his spine as he realised what those savages had done for your body to resist even in an unconscious state- 

And that’s when his eyes slid to the nails in the ground, the sharp metal going right through the flesh of your fingertips, a note pinned to your abdomen in between your shredded dirtied clothes-

“We don’t want the gross wreckage of your perverse ruination. Keep the whore since you wanted her so much.” 

A sea of rage rose in the back of Toji’s mind but it stilled, the vicerating waves crashing against the shore that was the barely noticeable action of your chest heaving. He held back what was a choked sob, mind barely sane as he took out the nails as gently as possible- a man so familiar with death yet utterly horrified by it as he counted your laboured breaths, thanked every deity out in the universe for every huff of air that he could feel against his chest as he carried you inside. 

—

How do you kill a god? 

You had asked him once. He had raised his brow, ruffling your hair before pushing you down onto the bed once more, intent on at least letting you know how you got to heaven. 

How do you kill a god?

It now echoed in his mind as he watched your broken body lay on his bed, having done everything he could have to fix you up even though he feared there would be wounds more than just the physical ones when you gained consciousness- if you gained consciousness.

How do you kill a god? 

Pit him against another god. Let him stare at his own reflection and see all his glorious flaws until he’s falling to his knees, begging for the taste of ichor to be washed out from his mouth, begging to be stripped of his damned divinity- because the curse of immortality is a heavier burden to carry than the curse of mundane suffering- because it’s easier to drown in a sea full of blood than live with it staining your hands.

𝘼𝙥𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙙𝙞𝙩𝙚- 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚, 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣.

“How do you kill a god?” You had asked him once.

Afterwards, you had lain awake late into the night as he had given you a taste of his own holiness, bare in his arms as he had muttered the words into your hair, barely a whisper as they escaped past his bleeding lips, 

How do you become a god?

The burning light attacked your eyes and you flinched loud enough for your own ears to ring, and then flinched even harder as the hot searing pain spread through your body, especially across the tips of your bandage covered fingers. You tried to use your voice but your throat was like a desert and your own harsh whisper scraped against your sensitive ears.

All you could do was stare up at the unfamiliar ceiling, lying numb, waiting for your saviour- or perhaps your torturer to come.

All had gone still once the door opened, your gaze falling onto the familiar hands that carried a bowl of water and about a dozen different small bottles in a basket. You stared through him, through his wide blown eyes and through the sigh of relief that left his mouth as he rushed towards you. 

How do you become a god?

There was much more you had wanted to tell your mother. You had told her you were sick of pretending, sick of being the goddess of spring when everything you touched died in your hands- how every beam of light you emitted was a stolen one from another soul. Perhaps, you had always craved pomegranates and death - had always willingly walked into the darkness with a smile and open arms.

How do you become a god?

You let him plead and writhe to have a taste of your lips - make him believe it is his only salvation. And right when his lips meet yours, you dig your teeth in deep and not let go, even as his fingers grip the column of your throat and his growls rumble inside your mouth. You let the trail of crimson coat your tongue and feel his tears burn your flesh- you make him taste your blood and take his throne. 

—

He says your name like it’s a prayer and you want to rip out his heart.

Instead, you turn your head towards the wall opposite to where he stands, clenching your eyes shut, hoping the next time you wake up it won’t be here. 

Still, you can hear his voice. Every single day of every waking moment- even as you sleep- even as you wake up in cold sweat haunted by the bittersweet melody of his laughter the day he crushed your heart in two, or the time your own blood nailed you down into the earth. 

But most of all, you hate it when you can hear the gruffness of his voice, still heavy from sleep as you let him cradle your head, shushing you- letting you know it was just a nightmare- but it was a nightmare you had lived through- a nightmare he had put you through. 

Not that he didn’t acknowledge it equally as much. It was odd- almost laughable the way he was so desperate to bring even just a flicker of the light back inside your eyes, breaking free from his stoic and tight lipped demeanour to whisper grossly sweet nothings into your hair.

He had explained his regrets the first few days that you had refused to even look at him, simply staring at the wall as he stripped you of your clothes to redo your bandages, not even the barest of reaction visible across your face. He had caused this. 

The first words you had muttered to him weren’t of hatred or anger or sadness- they were said into the heavy air, late into the hours before dusk at a point in time where your bones still couldn't support the burden of your body, 

“I need to pee.” 

You had said it through gritted teeth, had scowled throughout the process of him picking you up and carrying you into the bathroom, giving you privacy to do your business. 

The second time you had spoken to him was right after and it had somehow dented itself much deeper than he had expected it to, even as it was all he had been preparing himself for in the past few days, 

“I hate you.”

You had said it with no anger, no poison in your words- had simply stated it like it was a mere fact. 

“I know.”

—

It was weeks later and you seemed to have fallen into a strange routine.

He’d go out to do his filthy work, come back bathed in blood and dirt, even as he washed himself off outside thinking he was sly with it. You’d pretend not to notice as you’d cook for yourself, sometimes leaving bits behind as leftovers even if you had purposely spilled the extra bit of rice- had regretted it as soon as you had realised you had done it because he hadn’t had dinner in three days.

Perhaps it was the irony of the situation, and maybe even the cold winter air creeping into your bones that let him move from simply holding you when you woke from your nightmares- to him warming your bed at night even when you dreamed of nothing but the scar beside his lip. 

Still, you let him know you despised him every night that he pulled your body against his chest and every morning that he rubbed his warm hands up and down your arms. Even as you felt yourself leaning into his touch, felt your heart softening at how he’d mutter apologies into your hair while he thought you were asleep, how he’d pay attention to the foods you took more of and made sure to get twice the amount next time, how he’d shred his own shirts to provide you with cloth for when you got your monthly cycles. Yet, you couldn’t find any other words to say to him. 

𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙥𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙚- 𝙌𝙪𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙐𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙂𝙤𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙛𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙨, 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝, 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣

You had woken up alone as you did on most mornings, grateful that you wouldn’t have to face the shame that came with having your limbs tangled with him. The day was like any other yet different, perhaps it was the monotonous dread of living a life such as this- of having to live at all after being stripped of everything you had called yours.

You had somehow ended up taking steps outside of the wooden door, outside of the small garden the burly man used to grow his own vegetables, and even farther outside the vines and shrubs that kept the cabin hidden from any unwanted visitors.

You had walked and walked till your feet carried you to the edge of the world, a never ending fall down below from where you stared at, the sound of water flowing signalling the presence of a river running deep under the steep cliff.

You had stopped walking, the silence of the forest being the only noise to have outdone the heavy emptiness in your heart in months. And you simply continued to stand there, bare feet digging into the dirt and grass and stone, barely realising when the light faded away and darkness took over. Hadn’t it always been like this? 

It had taken no more than two rounds of the house and the trail of footsteps in the garden out back for Toji to realise you had left. His heart had dropped into his chest as he had followed the dents of your feet in the ground, careful not to step on them as his mind bitterly reminded him that it may be the last of what’s left of you by now.

He knew where the trail you had walked along led- had himself sat on the edge of it once, legs dangling off as he his mind had replayed the memory of your glossy eyes and crestfallen face when he had hit you with those fatal words months ago. Toji’s breath hitches in his throat, hands shaking as he pulls away the last branch blocking the view of the edge of the cliff. 

His feet are moving faster than his mind can think as he all but falls onto his knees, clutching your abdomen as if you’d disappear forever if he let you go now. You turn around in his arms, a look of confusion on your face, your eyes still as hollow as a void but all he cares about right now is the steady thumping he can feel with his chest pressed to yours. He’s clenching his eyes shut, taking a deep breath before he’s sliding his hand into yours. You don’t protest- letting him lead you back into the warm safety of his house and he’s too relieved to consider whether your lack of resistance is a good thing or not. 

You’re sitting on the edge of the bed and you can hear him ruffling through something in the bathroom, door ajar, eyes glancing towards you every two seconds as if he’s expecting you to bolt out the door any second now. For once, you don’t want to stare at the wall as he walks towards you, getting down on his knees- making a blow of nostalgia hit you right in the gut. But your eyes remain fixed at the top of his head, at the dark locks that had grown out much more since the last time you had let yourself gaze at him. 

You only realise what he’s been doing as you notice the bowl of water kept on the floor, hands gently lifting up your dirty feet, cleaning them of the mud and the blood from small scrapes. He’s lifting up your legs onto the bed once he’s done, adjusting your pillow as a gesture for you to lay down. He’s blowing out the lamps and soon enough you feel the mattress dip, his arms engulfing you tighter than ever before. You can feel the slight tremble in them and you feel guilty for the small pinch in your chest. You wait for his breathing to steady, head to fall limp into the crook of your neck before you roll over towards him in the dark, eyes set on the small crinkle between his forehead and brow. 

The warm hand that cups Toji’s cheek has him convinced that he may have lost his mind. Opening his eyes, he knows for sure that you have. Especially as you slide your other hand into his, pulling it till it’s placed onto the crest between your collarbone and chest, adjusting it a little more towards the left. Toji’s staring intently at you, wondering if this is your way of telling him that you’re still alive- that even though you’ve been cursed and damned to living in this hell, your heart still beats- it still fights. 

Toji bares his own emotions through a gesture- pulling the small hand that holds his to the apex between his upper ribs- pressing it till your fingers feel like they might just pass through his flesh. He hopes you know that if he could, he’d snap each one of his ribs open so that you can reach inside and press the palm of your hand against his beating heart, rip it right out of his body and spit inside the hollow space of his ribs with contempt- even then he’d survive on your hatred alone if it means surviving with you for the rest of his life. 

“I don’t hate you.”

The words are whispered in the dead of the night with no emotion, no trace of forgiveness or affection- simply stated as if they are common knowledge.

The soft lips coming down on his own have his mind spinning. He realises what it is you wish for- to be able to live once again as a human, to feel once again as a mortal- he can almost almost hear you saying the words into his mouth as your fist bunches up the fabric of his shirt. 

“I’m tired of being a god.” 

He can feel his own sentiment being passed right through as his hands slide under the cloth of his shirt that you wore, exploring the expanse of your reverenced skin, mouthing his response against your cupid’s bow.

“I’ll worship you even after you fall from grace.” 

And he does, pulling himself up on arms above you, dipping his fingers into your soaking sex, making quick work of ridding you and himself of your clothes. He’s tucking your legs against your chest, feet dangling over his broad shoulders as he comes forward to meet your lips. He’s pulling away and you’re mewling at the loss of contact- the loss of his taste. 

“Do you want this? Do you want-” He takes a deep breath, forehead coming forward to press against yours till your noses brush against each other, “...me?”

Your response comes in the form of sliding your hands to the back of his head, pulling him forward till his lips crash against yours once more- bucking your hips up till the tip of his massive girth is brushing against your heat. He doesn’t miss the moan that escapes you, eagerly kissing you back, moving to litter a plethora of kisses against your jaw- your neck- your collarbone. When he comes back up to your face, he’s well aware of the effect he’s had on you- the want in your eyes as you lift your hips against his once more, a small plea leaving your mouth. 

The need that comes over him is animalistic as he moves a hand down to position himself before sliding into your soppy hole, he swears he can see stars with how hungrily you swallow him in. You’re gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he strokes your insides so languidly. Your faces are close enough for you to feel his breath on your mouth, to feel the fall of the hot droplets on your cheeks, your own tears of grief- of freedom- of a love gone to waste so long ago combining as he continues to thrust in and out of you deeply. 

He’s dipping his head and the tears are being kissed away as his hand moves down to play with your over sensitive bud. You can't stop peppering kisses against his lips, moaning his name in his ear as he hits a particular spot inside you. He can feel you getting closer with how your breaths get deeper, fingers moving faster, strokes getting sloppier. 

You feel the tight coil in your stomach start to unravel, and all it takes is for him to lower his head and suction his lips around one of your nipples for you to come apart underneath him. He’s reaching his own arousal soon after, pulling out to spray his seed onto your stomach. He all but collapses on top of you, rolling over to his side once he catches his breath, another hitching in his throat as he finds you crawling onto his lap, legs straddling his waist as you bury your face into his naked chest. 

This is what being a god feels like. The taste of wine coating your tongue and the way his lips meld with yours- swallow you whole and then spit you out. You reach for him again in the dark, his chest panting against yours as the moonlight cascading from the window hits his face. You rest your chin against the centre of his chest, looking up at him with droopy eyes, his own stare right back at you- filled with tenderness and affection. 

“No one will ever hurt you again, I promise.” 

His voice is gruff and heavy, but carries a sincerity warm enough to send tingles down your back. You can’t quite place the look on his face, it's determined- pointed. You can feel the unravelling of the violence beneath his skin as his hand comes to cradle your jaw, and you wonder just what kind of monsters the god of the underworld plans to unleash.

His hand moves to caress the back of your head, adoration-filled eyes raking over your still panting figure. He presses his lips to your temple and says your name like a prayer. It all floods in- the pain- the love- the sorrow- the joy- you’re sobbing and he’s holding you like he has time and again. Only this time, he finds himself awestruck by the spark of ember that comes alive in your eyes, even if just for a second, he knows you’re going to be fine. 

-

The god of the dead had bowed before you, offered you his crown, his throne- would have ripped off the flesh from his own back and handed it to you without any hesitation if only you asked. 

You were the goddess of spring and everyone had loved your life and light, but who except him had acknowledged the death and destruction that came along- had reached out their hands into the rotten parts of your flesh and kissed every bruise and scar?

This was Toji Fushiguro’s life now, coming back home to his precious darling each day- the only burst of spring in his everlasting winter, the only ray of light in his world swallowed by darkness.

Tonight, as you lay on him bare-bodied and covered in sweat from your previous feat, he finds you asking him about the season, about how far the harvest festival was. He’s confused at your sudden curiosity but answers you nonetheless, telling you it’s in a fortnight. He finds himself asking why. 

“Every single member of our blood attends the festival- they had waited for it while they kept me away.” 

It’s the first time you’re talking about the incident and he can feel you quiver in his arms. It makes his blood boil, and he finds himself protectively pulling you even closer into him. 

“...they had wanted each and every single one of them to get a chance to cut through my skin.” 

That’s all you say before falling asleep, the tears on Toji’s chest making a storm of anger rage inside his mind. 

--

It’s a fortnight later and Toji watches the red and orange hues of the flames making your face glow brighter than the sun. 

You’re standing there hand-in-hand with him, looking over the half wrecked ruins of the village, the screams of the people you had grown up with- who had taken no less than a second to turn their backs on you- who had left you to die- now echoing in your ears. Right on the edge of the hilltop you stand on, you see a small figure running towards the slope, clothes burnt, high pitched sobs filling the air as it succumbs to the heat that had spread through it’s bones.  

She must’ve been eight or nine years old judging from her size and half burnt frills of the frock she wore. You know she’s at peace, much like the many others who would’ve faced nothing but agonising hardships being raised in the hands of your cruel persecutors- all of whom lay as nothing but bones and ash and dust now. 

Toji’s worried that he’ll find the same emptiness he’s spent months breaking through as he glances over at your face. Instead, there’s a fire being reflected in your eyes, a sadistically deliciously smile stretched across your supple cheeks. He finds his own lips curving as he grips your jaw to turn your head and press his lips to yours, the screams and shouts of your monsters merely anything but white noise as your fingers come to tangle in his hair. 

After all, Hades may have been the god of the dead, but it was Persephone’s wrath which brought upon the destruction.

© suna-reversed — all rights reserved. please refrain from modifying, translating, reposting of any kind. plagiarism will NOT be tolerated.

credit- prompt list

taglist-@captainmads2092 @mahitochan @nakachuchu @bakugohoex @jotazinha @osmosly @avasparks @p-each-y-day @lilshortcakess @saturnmoon @deary-darling @menaintshit23 @tobidabio @sukuna5slut @instantnuma @kuroshitsujjiii @half-baked-biscuit @duskamethyst @sukumen @radishfern

[louweasleymalfoy]

Masterlist

Summary : Park Solomon freaks out over an audition for his first big acting role

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Well I'm screwed" Lomon thought as he blankly stared at the papers in his hands as he rereads the script for the nth time tonight. He is overthinking.

You see the thing is, this audition isn't just ANY audition. Sure he's been to multiple auditions, but this was different.

He wasn't just going to be one of those movie or drama extras anymore, he'll finally have the chance to land a big role and become an actual lead actor for once, and the fact that it's being produced by one of the most well-known names in the industry wasn't helping his train of thoughts, he's VERY nervous.

His eyes skimmed over the words on the paper once more, ignoring the stabbing pain in his head from reading the same set of lines over and over again for the past couple hours.

There wasn't really supposed to be a problem — the script was FANTASTIC! — but there was a scene from the script that he just can't get right.

He audibly sighed in frustration — this scene was one of the important ones — and threw the script somewhere.

"Looks like someone's in a bad mood" Y/N, his roommate/childhood best friend, walked into the living room with a cup of coffee in hand as she bent to pick up the papers he threw.

"A penny for your thoughts?" He turned his head towards her direction and watched her sit beside him "Remember that audition that I told you about? That's what's stressing me out" She took a sip of coffee and set her mug on the coffee table in front of them before taking a quick glance at the papers in her hand. A look of realization flashes across her face before she handed Lomon the set of papers.

"Ooooohhhhhh, that audition you told me about last week?" He nodded "Well what's the problem? You've been to multiple auditions before, how does this one make any difference?" She shrugged and he sighed once again.

"It's not just ANY audition. This is a BIG one, I can finally have a chance to be a lead actor for once" Her eyes widened as he spoke "Really!? That's great!! I'm so proud of you Lomon" She beamed at him "But what about it? I mean you're probably nervous, which is normal, but you honestly seem like you're gonna die any moment now"

"It’s tomorrow, and there's this one scene that I'm having a hard time doing" he points over that part in the script for emphasis. "Ooooh let me see" She made grabby hands, 'cute' he thought, and he handed her the script.

"What’s your problem with it, exactly?" Y/N asks. The scene involved the 'first kiss' shared between the main characters. It should've been easy, right? Lomon thought but a loud voice in his head said NO.

"There are so many ways to do it and I'm so confused right now. Should I lean in slow? should I lean in fast? or should I—" Lomon cut himself off as he covered his face with his hands.

He peeked through his hands to see his friend's reaction just to see her innocently drinking her coffee, obviously unbothered. She raised a brow at him as if to say 'I know that's not your only reason' — Dammit, she knows him too well.

And so he gave in "Fine I'll admit it. It's been a while since I've kissed someone and the fact that this is the first audition I'm doing that has a kissing scene is not helping me. I'm afraid that I'll mess up tomorrow" He banged his head on the cofee table and groaned.

Y/N sighed and set her now empty cup of coffee aside before grabbing Lomon by the hair, gently raising his head from the table.

She took notice of the paper clip mark imprinted on his forehead from when he banged his head on the table full of papers and she internally laughed at him, she decided to ignore that for now.

"Lomon calm down, you're thinking about this too much" She spoke "And besides...who knows? maybe they won't even make you do this scene because there's no way you can do this without a partner" She tried to reassure him. He sat up straight and she let go of his hair. "Would they even ask you to do that scene without a partner?"

He shrugs. "They said they might bring in a couple of people at a time, to test chemistry" she hummed and it was quiet for a while when she decided to break the silence.

"Wanna rehearse your lines with me?" She asked, she figured that this would get his mind off his 'problem' for a while.

It wasn't anything new. They've done this a couple of times in the past whenever Lomon has a new audition or a new role to play. He was thankful of her.

They sat in front of each other as Y/N held the script in her hands to serve as a guide. She kept her head low, quietly reading the lines, as he stared. Her presence alone had him feeling mesmerized.

As she read the script, she suddenly felt a burning gaze on her. She lifted her head to look at him and found him staring at her with a foreign look that had her confused. "Sooooo, should we start?" she snapped him out of his daze and all he could do was nod. And so just like that, they started practicing the script.

Time passed and they (most especially Lomon) were doing quite well. He cleared his throat and recalled the next scene. It's set in an amusement park after he (the main character) and his classmate-slash-love interest decided to skip class after an uneventful morning in school.

After a while, they finally reach the last lines of the scene before the kiss.

"Have you ever done this before?" He spoke. The scene takes place in a ferris wheel as they looked at the marvelous view in front of them.

Y/N fills in for the other character, 'the love interest'. She shook her head and spoke "I’ve never done this with someone special"

They suddenly fall silent. Y/N looked at him with an expression that says 'what now?' until he finally broke the silence. "This is the scene that I was struggling with" He cleared his throat "It's the first kiss and I can't decide whether I should do a fierce and passionate kiss or if it's supposed to have this intense buildup that leads to a chaste and meaningful one" He rubbed his temple in frustration.

They fall silent once again until Y/N suddenly sat in a closer distance to him. She cleared her throat and a light tint of redness dusted across her cheeks. "I mean, we can try to do this scene if you want" She quietly said but it was loud enough for him to hear it as she avoided eye contact with him.

Lomon stared at her in shock and it was his turn to blush now. 'Does she mean what I think she means??' he thought. Y/N finally looked at him with wide eyes. "Or not! I-it was just a suggestion, we don't have to do it!" she quickly defended and was about to stand up when she felt his fingers wrap around her wrist.

"R-really? Do you mean it?" She looked at him with flushed cheeks and nodded "I mean, if you want to" she mumbled. "Let's do it" Her eyes widened at the three words that left his mouth as if she was expecting him to refuse her unexpected offer.

Y/N's face nearly panics again but then her face suddenly smooths over. "Okay! Ummm great! Do you wanna take it from the top?" She spoke loudly, trying to act cool and composed even though she was internally screaming at herself about stuff. What did she just get herself into?

He nodded at her previous question and they adjust their positions as if they were in the ferris wheel. They repeated the lines again until — "Have you ever done this before?"

Lomon took his time to look at her face and got lost in a trance once again. For some reason, she looks even more beautiful each time he looks at her. "I’ve never done this with someone special" she responded and both of them suddenly became aware of what's about to happen next.

He took in every inch of her face — from the way her hair looked, it was a bit messy and yet it still managed to look good on her...

'Relax, you've got this. He's your best friend. Besides, this is just acting — right?' Y/N thought as she tried to calm her nerves down, unaware of the fact that the boy in front of her was in a similar state.

And yet, as he leans forward, she sees something flicker in his eyes. They were a breath away from each other as Lomon's eyes flickered between her eyes and her lips. There was a foreign feeling in her chest as they sat so close to one another that it has ger wondering 'does he feel the same thing that I'm feeling right now?'

This was her idea, anyway, so she calms her mind and tried to remind herself that this is just acting and nothing else.

Lomon lifts his hands to cup her delicate face, searching for any hint of hesitation before letting their lips touch.

Her eyes went wide, despite the fact that she expected it, and yet she remembered the fact that this was just 'acting' so she closed her eyes. She placed a hand on his cheek, lightly tracing his cheekbone with her thumb as he deepened the kiss. He doesn’t pull away at once, he lets the tension linger.

He noticed that his heart rate has sped up. They were too immersed in the kiss, both of them completely forgetting the fact that this was supposed to be just acting. All they could think about was each other as their lips moved in sync.

After a while, they noticed the lack of breath and Y/N took it upon herself to pull away from each other's lips.

"Was that okay?"

"Did that feel alright?" — they both spoke at the same time and they dissolve into nervous giggles.

They fell quiet once again for the nth time today and they stare into each other's eyes as Lomon gently traced the side of her face with his fingers.

"Can I kiss you again?" Lomon felt a sudden rush of confidence as he asked. All she could do was nod and he took that as a sign to press his lips against hers once again.

It starts slow, with him purposefully catching her mouth a little clumsily as he changes the angle to fit their lips better. She pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

She is an incredibly good kisser, and Lomon loses himself in it. With Y/N and Lomon caught up in each other's embrace , everything just suddenly felt right.

They pulled away and stared at each other again with smiles plastered across their faces. Both of them knew that what just happened wasn't 'acting'. There were no words exchanged between the two and yet there was this mutual love radiating off of each other.

Both of them felt happy. They were aware of the fact that they'll have to talk about what just happened but for now, they'll just relish in each other's presence.

And so the two of them held each other, the script long forgotten as it sat on the coffee table. He'll just have to worry about the audition tomorrow.

[mewmewtric]

Could I request Ayato fluff? If that’s okay? Like general headcanons on how he’ll treat a significant other?

Thank you so much

First anon huh. THANK YOU SO MUCH SHDHDDHDHSSS

Anyway so here are three of my headcanons, written as ayato x traveller (you, unspecified gender). I have not seen fluff fics, much less know how to write it, but I’ll try!

Ayato has been dealing with lies and facades for so long... but with you, he can be himself. 

In public, he will still have to keep a good image. So no hand holding, keeping the mysterious prince charming demeanor that he portrayed the first time he saw you. But there is something else. He would have developed a subtle, nonverbal code for you two.

Sighing while fixing hair: I don’t like this.

Rubbing the middle finger and thumb together: Let’s meet up.

Nodding head thrice: Are you alright?

Gentle eye contact with slow blinking: I love you.

The two of you have your own little language there. A little secret. A cute, discreet way to show your love and true thoughts.

Walking side by side without physical contact, gently blinking to each other. Perhaps sneaking little hand touches in public, when he ascertains that no one is looking. Sometimes he forgets what your boba order is. And there he goes, nodding and sighing and just trying so hard to communicate without saying anything. Okay, he’s had a lot of experience due to politics, but it’s you. He would never want you to misunderstand him, or not give you what you want. To see your face morph into one any less than positive would simply just make him so guilty.

He would go to great lengths for you sometimes, or taking the effort to remember your likes and quirks, because he thinks that it is normal and what everyone should do. His servants and family have done such for him. Setting up welcoming receptions for whenever you come back. Gifting you simple yet elegant hair clips that belie talented craftsmanship and a very high price, because beautiful ones would divert attention to your pure beaming smile.

Once, you were stuck in a heavy downpour in Inazuma City. You forgot to bring an umbrella, or anything to cover your head. Honestly, it’s fine, really, you spent many days travelling outside with no shelter and trudging through wet mud.

But Ayato would never want that to happen to you if he can help it.

It was just so that he had a business meeting in Inazuma City. And that he knew you did not bring an umbrella.

So he searched the streets, under heavy rain, with a light blue umbrella adorned with a pattern of white tsubaki. For the one he loved, the one who made his heart race like it should never had, the one that he would give tsubaki much more brightly coloured than the ones on his umbrella to.

When he finally found you standing in an open street, hand out catching the rain drops, his breath caught in panic. 

No. They’ll catch a cold.

Have they been like this for too long?

Am I too late? Are they too cold?

His footsteps unconsciously quicken, starting to run in a way unbefitting of the always elegant leader of the Kamisato Clan. But he did not care. All that mattered was to keep you safe.

He extended the hand holding his umbrella forward quickly, almost jerking it out, to cover your blonde head. Not a good idea, as the sudden, impulsive movement, unlike the planned thrusts of his sword in battle, made him lose his balance. He did not - could not - stop his feet in time, his body crashing into yours, almost pushing you out of the umbrella.

He wrapped his free arm around you and pulled you back in. Your body, tiny compared to his, softly landed on his own. 

Luckily no one but the two of you were there. If not, not only would Inazumans see their reserved and graceful Yashiro Commissioner break his character, but they might even see his ears burning red...

“Do not stay out in the rain, Traveller. We can make our way to find shelter before the carriage comes.”

“I’m fine. I had to sleep in the rain a few days. This is nothing.”

“Not if I can help it. Besides, is this not normal?”

“What?”

“My family and servants always help me shelter from the rain like this.”

“Running to you just to cover you?”

“Yes.”

Your confused, flushed face... it almost made him want to laugh. It is so funny sometimes, the way the human face contorts to make all sorts of fascinating expressions. Your expressions, in particular, seem to influence him. 

But in private, it's more of you comforting or doing things for him.

He will dismiss his servants, his guests, even Thoma and Ayaka. Just the two of you. He will shove his work to the side of his table. Tell you to come closer.

And he will ask you of your travels before Teyvat. What are the wonders you have seen. Who have you met. Maybe... if there was anyone you kept as close to your heart as you do for him~

He is just so eager to listen, like a little kid ready for his bedtime story. So you agree. Telling him of the wondrous sights of many different worlds. The unique culture of your hometown. Your sibling, and your views on how they could possibly have ended up leading the Abyss Order.

You ramble on and on. Ayato, he has this way to make people talk. Be it for business or getting someone to tell them their views and stories. Is it his laidback yet proper demeanour? The way that he can encourage and manipulate people? It does not matter. With him you somehow feel safe to expose yourself.

"...sometimes, I do feel lonely. In this world I am stuck in, far from my home. At least I have you for now-"

A whiff of cypress wafts into your nose.

A soft weight presses on your shoulder.

“You...have me?”

A pause before you answer.

“Yes.”

Warm arms gently encompass you. Ayato sighs, coincidentally close to your ear.

“I... love you so much, do you know that?”

Throughout his life, he rarely ever got to speak his thoughts. He was always taught to wear a mask of decorum everywhere he went.

But with you, he can let that go. He can tell you he loves you so many times because that is what he feels, and he never has to hide it around you. He will repeat it over and over, because you can listen to his true thoughts.

And he loves you for that.

[alcinadimitrescuwu]

Welcome to the Family, Boy (Alcina x Fem!Reader Fanfic)

First thank you all for your support for my first Dimitrescu fanfic. I truly appreciate it and all the support this community has given me on. Let's go on to the next one, shall we?

Premise: After a long and stressful week, your wife Alcina wants to help you let off some steam. However, your amorous activities are cut short by an unexpected surprise.

Warning: blood. There are some steamy scenes in here but nothing explicit, so it's mostly safe for work.

As you climb the stairs to your bedroom, you heave a great sigh. It’s been a long and stressful week. Daniela had caused a small fire in the wine cellar basement by knocking over a lantern when she had gotten a little too eager for a feeding. It was eventually put out, but the corpse was burned in the process. Alcina had been furious at the waste of resources. It had taken a full day to get rid of the ash, but the basement was clean. Well, as clean as it could be. Aside from the wine cellar, Alcina didn’t seem to care much about cleaning up the basement. Well, it was over now. Now you just couldn’t wait to curl up next to your wife and get a good sleep.

You arrive at your doorway and hear Maria Callas singing “Casta Diva” from within. You smile. Your mutual love for opera was one of the first things you discussed as you were courting. Before you reach your hand to knock at the door, you hear Alcina call, “Is that you iubirea mea?”

“Yes, dear,” you reply. You stretch your arms behind your head. “Oh, I just can’t wait to get into bed-” Your voice cuts off as you see what your wife is wearing. She is wearing a black peignoir and as she stands up, she casts it off to reveal a black and red lingerie set.

She smiles wickedly. “I can’t wait to get into bed with you either.”

You don’t move. You can only stare. Her scarlet lips match the exact shade of the lingerie. Without any sleeves, you see her muscular arms and you blush as you recall what those arms feel like wrapped around you. Her legs are on full display as well with a red stocking clipped to a garter. They reach up to your shoulders and you have spent many a time nestled in them with your head on her lap. You open your mouth to reply but find nothing coming out.

Alcina pouts and puts one hand behind her on the bed. “Come, pet,” she purrs, beckoning you with a red fingernail. “You’re not going to stand there all day, are you?”

You don’t say anything. You cross the space between you and your wife in three steps and launch yourself over into her waiting arms. The scent of her perfume is overwhelming and you breathe it in. You close your eyes and kiss her chin, her laugh lines and finally her lips. She laughs through the kiss and holds your head between her hands. “Well, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Don’t talk,” you rasp, your voice full of desire.

She smiles. “All right, draga mea. No talking then.” She kisses you deeply and you weave your hands through her locks.

She picks you up and carries you across the room, kissing all the while until you reach the wall. You lean your head on the wall behind you and wrap your legs around her waist. “I’ve needed this, my love,” you whisper against her lips.

Ding dong!

You hear the doorbell resound through the castle. You break the kiss and fix her with a quizzical expression. “Were you expecting anyone?” you ask.

She shakes her head quickly. “No. Could be a solicitor. Could be a vampire hunter coming to put a stake in all our hearts.” Her golden eyes are glazed over with desire. “Right now I couldn’t care less at the moment.” She nuzzles your neck and you sigh. She breaks away and looks at you, an unasked question in her eyes. She’s hungry. You nod your consent and she pulls away your nightgown to bear your neck and shoulders. She pulls you close and bites your neck and feeds on the blood pooling around your neck. You feel her neck working against your chest as she drinks. You take pleasure in every gasp and moan she makes. You feel pleasantly light-headed by the time she pulls away with a satisfied sigh.

Ding dong!

Alcina groans and bares her teeth in anger. “It’s getting too late for this!”

You caress her jaw. “Dear, maybe we should answer it. It could be an emergency.”

She shakes her head impatiently. “It’s probably some snot-nosed kid playing a prank.” She lifts your chin with a finger and gives you a seductive grin. “Don’t focus on it right now, pet. Right now is about you and me.”

“You’re probably right-” She stops the rest of your sentence with a rough kiss, opening your mouth with her tongue. Her hand travels up your leg and her hand making contact against your bare leg gives you a pleasant chill. Her hand rests on your thigh and she pushes you up against the wall again while using her nimble fingers to unhook your garter.

Ding dong! Ding dong! Ding dong!

Alcina gives a frustrated growl. “Damn it to hell!”

“Darling,” you say gently petting her arm as a signal to set you down. “If it were kids, they’d be bored and have gone home by now. I’m going to check who it is.”

Your wife crosses her arms and gives an adorable pout. “Fine. Do what you want.”

You adjust your nightgown and wipe any leftover blood and lipstick off your neck. As you walk to the door, Alcina gently puts your dressing gown around your shoulders. You catch her hand and give it a kiss. “I’ll be with you shortly. I just need to get dressed.”

You smile at her. “Very well, darling.” As you turn to leave the door, Alcina catches your shoulder and whispers huskily, “And after we get back, we will most certainly get back the lost time that nuisance has stolen from us.”

You blush furiously and kiss her goodbye. As you walk down the stairs, you hear the doorbell ring again. Once, twice, three times. “Yeah yeah, I’m coming. I’m coming.” You grasp the brass handles and with a great effort manage to open the doors wide. You’re jealous of Alcina in moments like these. She could open the doors with such ease that you forget that each door weighed hundreds of pounds.

You are surprised to see Heisenberg holding something wrapped in cloth. You can’t help but smile when you see Heisenberg. Heisenberg and Alcina may be like oil and water, but the two of you liked each other almost instantly. He told you once that “anyone who could put up with that bitch for more than 20 seconds must be a good person. And you have to put up with her for life!”

Heisenberg returns your smile. “Hi, hon.”

“Hi Karl. How about you come in and warm up with a nice cup of tea?” You stand aside to allow him in. “Come on. It’s freezing out there.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, honey, but I really can’t stay long. Is your ball and chain around? This question concerns her too.”

“Heisenberg,” you hear your wife’s drawl. You both look to see her descending the stairs. There is no evidence of your amorous activities as she has on a fresh coat of lipstick, is fully dressed and her hair is pinned perfectly in place under her hat. “To what do I owe this rather unpleasant surprise?”

Heisenberg clenches his teeth. “Believe me, I wouldn’t come here unless it was an emergency.”

“Then what is it?” Alcina asks as she puts her left hand on your shoulder. You reach up to cover it with your own. “Out with it, and be on your way. Some of us would rather be in bed right now.”

Heisenberg notes your kiss-swollen lips and a hickey already starting to form on your neck. “Yes, I suppose some of us rather would.”

Alcina’s eyes flash and she grits her teeth. “Heisenberg, I swear-”

Heisenberg puts up a placating hand while he holds the bundle with his other. “Ok, ok. I’ll cut to the chase then. Sheesh, do you have any sense of humor?” He unwraps the bundle to reveal a mewling French bulldog. It can’t be more than a couple weeks old.

As you place your hand on your heart Heisenberg continues. “I found him outside of his house. Whole damned family was slaughtered. He needs a place to stay. I thought this might be the best place for him.”

You look at your wife with pleading eyes, but she gives a sharp, “No.”

“Darling-”

“No.” She glares at Heisenberg. “Why can’t you take him in? Maybe it would be an opportunity for you to learn some responsibility for once in your cursed existence.”

You see Heisenberg roll his eyes behind his sunglasses. “Yes, and I’d be responsible for him being torn apart by Lycans. I’m not taking him in. It’s not safe for him there.”

You take your wife’s hand in yours. “Darling, please reconsider. We can’t turn the poor thing away. Besides, our daughters would love having a d-”

She immediately puts a hand over your mouth. “Don’t say it,” she warns, looking furtively around the foyer.

“What?” you ask against her hand. “Dog?”

Almost immediately your daughters, Bela, Cassandra and Daniela materialize from their fly shrouds. They zero in on the dog and Cassandra takes him out of Heisenberg’s hands and the other two crowd around her and begin cooing to it, and letting it sniff and lick their fingers.

Alcina covers her face with her hands. “Now you’ve done it, love.”

The girls look up from their ministrations to the dog and as one rush over to your wife, carrying the dog over with them. They begin speaking up all at once. “Mother, please can we keep him?” “Mother, look how cute he is!” “Mother, Cassandra’s been hogging the dog all this time and it’s my turn to hold him!”

“Enough!” Alcina’s voice booms around the foyer. She puts two fingers in the space between her perfectly sculpted eyebrows. She sighs aloud. “God, I need a smoke.” She turns to her daughters and with a long suffering sigh says, “Fine. We’ll keep the little mongrel.”

All three daughters erupt into cheers and you can’t help but smile indulgently at them. Daniela runs over and throws her arms around your neck in jubilation. “Maman, did you hear that? We get to have a dog finally!”

“Yes, dearest, I did hear that.” You drop a kiss on her head and she scampers over to take the dog which Cassandra begrudgingly hands to her.

Heisenberg grins and reaches in his pocket. “I have some food and a water bottle for him,” he says, handing you the aforementioned items. “The Duke should have some more, but that’s all I have right now.”

“Thank you Karl,” you say, reaching over to scratch the dog behind his ears. “We’ll take good care of it, won’t we girls?”

“Yes, Maman!” they all answer in unison.

“I’ll be off then!” Heisenberg turns to leave but not before shouting over his shoulder, “And I think he should fit in pretty nicely around here, especially since the Lady of the House is such a bi-”

In an instant, Alcina has him off the ground and has her claws extended only a few inches from his neck. “Heisenberg, did you want to finish that sentence?” she asks sweetly.

You can’t help but laugh. “Let him down, my love. It’s not worth getting so riled up this late at night”

“Fine,” she says and sets him down not too gently. He brushes himself off and glares at Alcina for the rough landing. She just flashes a smile and you notice that only her middle finger is extended in claw form. You look at your daughters, but they are too busy with the dog to notice the obscene hand gesture.

“All right, this time I’m really off.” he says, turning around and walking towards the castle gates.

“Girls, what do you say?” you prompt.

“Thank you, Uncle Karl!” they chorus. Bela snatches the dog and runs upstairs, vanishing in her bug shroud. The girls run after her, Daniela yelling down the hall, “No fair! I wasn’t finished with him yet!”

Alcina closes the doors and leans against them, sighing. “I just hope this wasn’t a mistake.”

You take her hand and kiss it. “Nothing we can do about it now, my love. Come on, let’s go to bed. It’s getting late.” The two of you hold hands and once you arrive at your shared bedroom, Alcina immediately locks the door, pulls you close and fixes you with a wolfish grin. “Now where were we, draga mea?”

“I thought you said you wanted to smoke first?” You laugh and wrap your arms around her neck.

“Ah, iubirea mea,” she say picking you up again and giving you a sloppy kiss. “Cigarettes always taste better after sex.”

You kiss her as you unbutton her dress and she puts her hand in the same spot on your thigh as before, this time successfully unhooking your garter. You bite her lip playfully and she gives a little growl of pleasure.

The moment is interrupted by a knock on the door and you hear Daniela’s voice, “Mother? Maman? The dog peed all over the carpet in Bela’s room!”

“Only because you led him there!” you hear Bela retort.

Alcina leans her forehead against yours and starts swearing in Romanian. You give her a kiss and pat her hand before you see to your daughters.

[witch-hazels-musings]

LANTERN RITE - BEAUTY

warning - none, sfw | character x gn reader

ALBEDO

“Amber ...” You groan from inside the bathroom, head in your hands as you peek through shy fingers to see yourself in the reflection of the mirror.

“Yeah?” There was a tumble, but you hear her feet move closer to the door after a few seconds.

“I — don’t think this is going to work.”

“What do you mean?”

“I look so out of — I look ridiculous.”

“No, I doubt that.” She says, exaggerating the ‘o.’

“It’s true, I don’t think this - ugh - fits right or something?”

“Come out and let me see!” With a heavy sigh, you adjust the fabric a few more times until surrendering to it’s design. When you open the door, Amber is standing just outside, her body bent, hands pressed together as if she was trying to examine you through the wooden door. “OOH! You look incredible!”

“Amber —“

“Seriously, it looks even better on you than the model.” Flashing her a ‘you can’t be serious’ type of grimace, you try to dip back into the bathroom but don’t make it very far. “Trust me, trust me, you look awesome.  Here.” She pulls you closer and spins you around, a soft giggle spilling from her as you stumble - it makes you laugh too - “See, we just need to … ah there!” She tugs at your clothes, spins you around one more time and fusses with your hair for a split second before nodding in approval. “Lovely!”

“Amber —“

“Let’s go, everyone should be here soon!” She pulls you toward the door and before you can make any further complaints, the two of you are headed down the stairs of the inn and toward the bustling city you were nervous to see.

—

It’s beautiful, wonderful, almost magical as you pass under the floating lanterns and yellow lights that seem to dance on the rooftops. There is an energy around you that makes you feel alive and, thankfully, less out of place that you fretted you’d be. As you move past the shop windows, you notice Amber has placed a few dry flowers in your hair - so that must be what she clipped in, you think. It’s hard to stay caught up but, as you look around, you notice here are so many lovely people walking about the boardwalk, some in plain clothes, others more fancily decorated, and even a few in outfits you’d never feel comfortable wearing. It was one thing for the city to be so accepting of having other Teyvatians celebrate the festival in Liyue attire but, no matter what, you always maintained your respect for the city and it’s culture. A few citizens noticed you but instead of frowning at your presence, they smiled and nodded a hello.

For a city of rules and regulations, strict contracts and equality, they were also widely accepting and it made you wonder if wind this free hadn’t come from Mondstadt itself. Speaking of —

“Hey guys!” Amber shouts and pulls you back from your thoughts and wandering eyes. You glance down the path toward the bridge, your heart getting faster as you see the group headed your way. “You made it!” She beams.

“Yes, sorry we are a little late.”

“It’s alright, we haven’t been waiting long.” She explains to Jean, her hand waving in front of her face to show her it wasn’t a big deal. When you look to the Dandelion Knight, you feel a twinge of ‘out of place-ness’ again. How is she able to be so beautiful in everything she ever wore. It wasn’t just her either, but Kaeya too. No matter how hard you try, you can’t help but stare at the both of them. “You all look great!” Amber expresses, fingers covering her lips as she looks over everyone.

“Well of course we do, what did you expect?” Kaeya saunters toward you, eyes closed and hand extended into a smug wave.

“We could say the same for you both, especially you, cutie.” You felt your heart flip at Lisa’s comment. She’s as elegant as ever, the gown she wears is so striking that it drew many, many eyes.

“Thanks, Lisa.” You whisper, embarrassed.

“Klee thanks so too! Right Albedo?” When you hear Albedo’s name, you swallow but don’t let go of Klee who is now hugging your leg tightly in her excitement.

“Yes, I would say you both look quite incredible.” He smiles to the both of you but you swear he lingers on you far longer than Amber. Nervous, unsure, trying not to get lost in your own wishes, you turn your attention to Klee and finally greet her.

“Ha, well thank you, and don’t you look just spectacular!”

“Hehe, Miss Lisa made all of our outfits! Klee even has a pocket for dodoco!” She shows you by shoving her hands in her dress pocket and retrieving a small, circular object that ... well ... doesn’t look like dodoco to you.

“OH!” Jean rushes forward and takes the object from her hands before passing it to Lisa who only giggles at the whole thing. “Aha, remember Klee we have to be extra careful here, remember.”

“Yes, Klee remembers!” She shouts and you all look apprehensively to one another; the only ones not fazed are Lisa and Albedo.

“Well, are we missing anyone?” You ask, desperately trying to change the subject and get on with the festival activities.

“Mmm, just - oh, there she is. Sucrose!” Jean yells through the crowd and soon a very exhausted looking Sucrose joins the party.

Pushing up her glasses, she bows to the group, her green gown growing tighter around her as she does so. “S-sorry everyone. I became distracted on my way you see. I have held everyone up, apologies.”

“It’s alright, were you able to get what you needed?” Albedo asks, stepping closer to her.

“Yes, Mr. Albedo. I did.” They seem to have their own private conversation and while you’d love to join them, you realize it would be quiet hard with the two excited party members pulling at your hands.

“Let’s go! Let’s go!” Amber practically forces everyone to move and soon half of the Knights of Favonious are making their way through the crowded Liyue harbor.

As large as this group is, everyone seems to be having fun in their own way. Kaeya has found his samples of the local wine, Lisa and Jean have taken a watchful eye over the group even though Lisa has, on several occasions, tried to distract Jean with items you’d never imagine she’d pay mind to. Amber is splitting her time between Klee and yourself, pulling the both of you into activities until your lungs hurt from laughing and, while Sucrose continues to get lost or wander off toward the specialists, you can’t help but notice Albedo appearing and disappearing without warning.

There are moments he shows up beside you so unexpectedly that you jump. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He explains, his tone soft and gentle.

“It’s alright, I just didn’t know you were there.”

“Mmm, I was curious as to what you were doing.”

“Oh, well I’m not really sure but we’re building fireworks. Each bowl has different colors, these ones make the firework bigger, while these make it go higher.”

“Interesting, may I?”

“Oh, please!” You take a step aside and guide him until he’s ready. When he seems to have a handle on it, you return to your own firework and do your best to not get distracted by how he works. Everything he does it tactful, purposeful, accurate and soon he’s made several fireworks while you’re still lost on the one. “Wow, Albedo. That’s - so many.” You laugh, fingers brushing over your brow as you look at his creations.

“Oh, maybe I should … allow others to continue.”

“Maybe.” You chuckle and return to your firework. With a satisfying, click, you lock the ingredients inside their tube and hand it to the firework maker. “Thank you.” Bowing slightly, you turn to leave but Albedo’s hand causes you to falter. You catch your breath as his fingers touch your forehead, eyes locked on him, heart dangerously aware how close he is. “What - um.”

“You have powder on your face.” He’s so gentle, so thorough and you don’t dare move until he is done. “There.”

“Th-thank you. Um, Albe-?” The two of you pull back suddenly when Amber shouts your names so loudly it makes you stumble into the table at your side. “I guess we should - mm - yep.” Turning, you head toward the group and when you get there you accept the Xiao lantern Amber extends to you without question.

—

It was a lovely night for sure. Everyone is clearly exhausted by the time the final lanterns make their journey into the sky. Albedo sits next to Klee and assist her in lighting hers before they watch it float into the darkness. The way he looks at her makes you melt and, in your absent mind, you wish with your heart instead of your mind.

As the illuminated paper drifts on the wind, you take a moment to yourself on the upper level of the dock. From this viewpoint you can see the knights below and feel honored to be among them. Closing your eyes, you take in a breath and let the nighttime air fill you up completely.

“Are you alright?” A gentle voice finds it’s way into your peace but doesn’t disturb it.

“Mmhm, it’s just … today was a good day.” You express.

“It was, but it’s not over.”

“Oh?”

“The fireworks have yet to go off. It appears they are waiting for a clear sky as to not impede the lanterns.” Albedo takes up space at your side, his arms resting on the railing as he looks across the stretching blackness. On any other night it would look like a pit that could swallow you whole but tonight, tonight it was a glittering masterpiece.

“That sounds about right.”

There is a silence that slips in but you don’t mind. You always found this comfortable quiet near Albedo; no pressure to keep anything going. A complete and utter ease was the atmosphere he radiated and you soaked it up whenever you could. With a sigh, you close your eyes and let your fingers curl around the wood so you can lean back and let your head drop with gravity. “I must admit,” Albedo begins and you open your eyes to glance at him, “I wish I could capture this moment, but I neglected to bring a method to do so.”

“Oh, well I can’t imagine you’d find time with this group to draw. Where would you even start?”

“With you.”

You froze in place, unsure if you really heard what he said or if your wistful heart made it up. “M-Me?”

“Yes, if I had the time, and if you would allow me.” He twists his head to look at you and you slip from your hold. Easily, he moves to catch you, his arm wrapping around your back, other hand gripping on the railing to keep the two of you steady, standing, safe. “Are you —“

“Um.” The two of you stare, for the first time, at each other with all the intentions you ever dreamed of slipping into the pages of the story you desperately wanted to tell. “Albedo—?” A quick flash to his lips before your nervous hands find the long jacket that has slipped off one of his shoulders. He pulls you closer, his head tilts, expectantly you let your eyes flutter closed and for the first time you feel his chapped and perfect lips.

It’s a tender kiss, a little inexperienced but it makes the butterflies in your stomach explode. When he pulls back you let out a heated, shaking sigh. “I have seen much in my exploration of this world, but nothing compares to you.” He whispers and you bite your lip.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“It is. Y/N, my thoughts have pulled me in all directions but they all come back to you. I see that now, even if it took me a great deal of time to understand.”

“Albedo —“

“This world holds many a rare treasures indeed.” He hums and you feel his lips connect against yours again but this time you’ve join in the embrace with hands pulling at the fabric against his back and arms coiling around his neck. With ease, he lifts you up, his hand sliding to cup your cheek while his other holds you tenderly as the sky slowly explodes in large, colorful displays of the citizens creativity.

—

Suddenly, there is a huge boom and the two of you are startled apart only to hear shouting from below and Klee jumping up and down in excitement. Jean is in a full sprint toward the firework display and as high as your butterflies were flying moments ago, they are now shattering at the upcoming dread taking their place. “Klee —-!” The two of you run down the steps and, in your wake, a flower in full bloom falls from your hair and lands peacefully on the railing.

main post

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Digital Heart

Foul Legacy Childe x Reader Gender Neutral (no pronouns mentioned) Angst Warnings: Falling, fighting, minor injuries, nausea, breathlessness 

In which Genshin is an interactive RPG accessed through an immersive headset, and you find yourself pushed to play it by your friends.

~ * ~

It started with a game.

For thirty days and thirty nights, your friends have been pleading for you to play it. Genshin Impact it was called, an free immersive open-world RPG with hundreds of weapons, characters, and power ups. Accessible through a specialized headset that tracked movement, it had only been a month since the freely downloadable game’s release and it was already a success, garnering praise from the customizable main character and the interactive playstyle. Play it. Your friends beg. You’ll love it. We can play together. 

You refuse at first. The game might be free, but the headset isn’t, and you need to save that money to pay for food and clothes. Alongside your financial state was your schedule, a long list of work and chores that left little time to play games with constant updates like Genshin, so you told your friends- politely, as that’s how you were raised- that it’d have to wait. They agreed, quietly.

Then the next day, they ask again. You make an excuse- too much work. They agree, again.

The second day, asking. You’re too tired, you say. Of course, they respond.

Everyday, the same question. The same request, the same demand. It wears on you, amused exasperation drawing a sigh from you everytime you open your notifications.

Play it.

You can’t.

Play it.

You don’t have time.

Play it.

You need to focus!

Play it.

…

…Alright.

Finally, you cave. You create an account, a headset en route to your house. You clear an area in your house so you don’t accidentally hit anything. The headset arrives, and you insert the batteries, said to last up to an entire day playing nonstop, a stage you dearly hope you never reach. You pull it down over your head, cringing at the thought of your hair getting so mussed, and switch it on. A long and potentially worrying warning flashes before your eyes and you blink, not used to the in-depth cameras yet, as the screen goes white.

Welcome to Genshin Impact! Please name your character… appears, and you subsequently slip down the rabbit hole.

It’s fun, you find. Your friends were right, you did like Genshin Impact, although you thank your lucky stars that you weren’t as attached as some players were, as you still had work and life to attend to. The combat and story were enjoyable, and the characters were funny and diverse in personality and playstyles. The main character, who was also your customizable avatar, was quite literally you, the story explained, a traveler from distant lands who fell face first into Teyvat by mistake and tragedy. Of course you still haven’t gotten entirely used to the whole immersion thing, and sometimes shuddered under the eerily real programming of the NPCs and characters, but that was nigh unnoticeable when focusing on fighting monsters. Your deep love for exploration and discovery surfaces, and you take as long as you want exploring every inch of the wonderfully modelled map as you follow the main story, or “Archon Quests”. You calm the great dragon Dvalin and bid your friends at Mondstadt- Kaeya, Amber, Lisa, Diluc, Jean, and Venti- goodbye, Liyue sprawling out before you in wooded forests and cloud-covered mountains. A mysterious man runs across you at the Inn, the immortal Adeptus Xiao, although you would’ve thought he was quite young due to his short stature, and you encounter Zhongli in the Harbor, along with Lady Ningguang and her subordinates, Keqing and Ganyu. A member of the malicious-seeming Fatui also greets you and introduces himself as Childe, a name you don’t trust for a second, yet find yourself getting strangely attached too. The story progresses with you at Zhongli and Ningguang’s sides, the suspicion being pointed more and more to the Fatui, and you find yourself staring up at the elegant pillars of the Golden House, the mora mint building.

You gulp. You know this is where Childe’s boss battle takes place, and you’re not sure if your team is prepared, even if you stocked up on food right before leaving the Harbor. Inhaling a deep breath, you shove the enormous front doors open, and a cutscene pulls your fear tight against your throat. Everyone’s suspicions were right- he was here to steal the Geo Archon’s gnosis, and you have to stop him. 

Easier said than done. The cutscene of your face shows a determined, fierce expression, instead of the nervous one you had in real life, and you almost laugh. You dearly hope your characters are strong enough, and step into the arena.

Phases One and Two are relatively short, as you quickly learn to avoid using Childe’s respective elements of his Vision and Delusion while his shield is up. The battle is fun and fast-paced, and you feel a thrill in your bones as you dodge another attack before swinging your sword in retaliation. Childe stumbles, and Phase Two ends with a cutscene. The corpse of Rex Lapis, something you considered a bit gruesome, is discovered to have no gnosis, and you can feel the raw anger in the Harbinger’s voice as the air crackles and hisses. A horrible, blinding light shines, and Childe is gone.

At least, human Childe is gone. In his place floats a monstrous version of himself, nearly 14 feet tall and complete with horns and armor, and your mouth drops open slightly as you gaze at him wide eyed. But your focus is violently shifted when the floor cracks and turns to dust, sending you tumbling down into the belly of the Golden House. You land with an unceremonial thump, thankful that the creators hadn’t been cruel enough to make you feel the damage you took in-game.

And Phase Three, the final phase of Harbinger Tartaglia, commences.

He has considerably more health, and his attacks can range from irritating to deadly, you just barely dodging the falling Hydro arrows that would’ve slaughtered your current character. Of course, it doesn’t help that you’re sneaking glances at your attacker every few minutes. Your mind wanders to the lore as you shield yourself from violet lightning. Does this transformation hurt? Where does it come from? Why does it look like a moth? Maybe one day you’ll get answers. 

Despite the raised difficulty, Phase Three also ends rather quickly. Your characters, it seems, were overleveled. The remainder of the Archon Quest passes, Childe reappearing once at the end, and it’s over. The screen blips off as you log out and place the headset on a table before laying on your bed and using the last few hours before bed to contemplate what you’ve just seen.

The next days quickly fall into routine. After completing all your work, you’d take an hour or two to play Genshin, leveling up your characters even more and going through various quests, Childe’s included. You see his transformation, dubbed the Foul Legacy form, again, and almost swoon before stopping and giving yourself a harsh scolding. You fulfill requests and tasks for various people around Teyvat, or at least the parts of Teyvat you can access, and improve your skills and stats. You have a talent for dodging, you find, and use it to your advantage while fighting.

And every Monday, when the clock resets, you re-enter Golden House to battle with Childe and claim your just rewards.

Of course you could do it everyday, but a squirming, guilty feeling in your gut stops you, making you feel like you’re hurting him, no matter how many times you try to tell yourself that he’s simply a video game character, a program in an electronic system.

This thought makes you a bit sad, you think.

The fights are getting easier, something you credit to your rising stars of characters, and you stand before the Ley Line Blossom quicker and quicker each time, something you expect to be no different today.

Phases One and Two are just the same as you take advantage of Vaporize and Overload, drowning out Childe’s pre-programmed sounds of pain with your own abilities. The battle pauses, and you’re transported to the same chamber underground, with its fiery walls and glittering arches, as the fight resumes. With the same attacks and characters, it’s becoming a tad dull, and you frown, wondering if you should try to get another character soon.

You’re lost in your thoughts when you slip and fall.

This you feel in the real world, having landed hard on your back and knocked the air out of your lungs. For a few moments you struggle to breathe, and Childe takes the opportunity to appear right over you, his spear flashing purple. You swear internally, bracing yourself as he readies his weapon.

But the strike never comes. You inhale desperately, oxygen finally flowing into your chest, and open your eyes. The graphics of your game are gray and fuzzy around the edges, framing Childe as he slowly puts his spear down and, to your amazement and slight terror, jerkily reaches towards you. Voice clips play overhead, pieced together to make not words, but a static-interspersed whining sound, much like a concerned beast. Your eyes widen, and Childe stops, withdrawing slightly almost as if he’s worried that you’re afraid, and you whisper his name once, as a tentative question.

Then with crackle and a ping, your game crashes and everything goes black.

You gasp and rip off the headset, chest heaving as you struggle to comprehend what just happened. You’re shaking, nervous and fearful, but curiosity runs strong through your veins. Your finger slides towards the On button, and you press it and slip the device back on.

You’re standing outside, the doors of the Golden House closed as if the battle never happened. The guards surrounding it look ordinary, occasionally repeating phrases you’ve heard and ignored countless times. Glancing around and trying to squash the nauseous bubbling feeling in your gut, you push the doors open again.

It’s different this time. Instead of being in the upper room, you fall a short distance into the Third Phase Chamber, your shoes clicking on the tiled floor. Childe floats in the center, his back to you, and you take a tentative step forward. He turns and looks you dead in the eyes, before flinging his spear to the side and rushing towards you on his feet, kneeling to your height. Instinctively, you jump away as he sits on the ground before you, letting out joyful chirps and trills, sounds you didn’t even know he could make. You approach him, sword held loosely in your hand as an extra precaution, and he tilts his head and coos as you cautiously sit with him. Your hands are trembling as you try to understand that this is real, he is real, all of this is happening.

And if it’s not, then it’s some damn good programming.

Questions start to fill your mind, one after another, and you ask him, responses coming as a nod or a headshake.

Is this real?

Yes.

Or programming?

No.

Could you always do this?

No.

Just today?

No.

Over a period of time. Yes.

How…?

The final question hangs in the air, and he shrugs slightly, then points at you. You did this. You woke him up, made him feel pain, sorrow, and happiness, all stemming from you, his love for you. From the minute the Archon Quests let you meet, he was vaguely curious, the most emotion he’s ever felt in his cold, empty programming since before. And when the code broke, he adored you, not like Childe viciously adored battle, but a soft adoration, one with all his digital heart could muster. You smile, and he purrs at what a wonderful smile it is.

Something flickers in the corner of your eye. Then another. And another. You turn and squint, then gasp as your surroundings begin to dissolve into colorful squares, the game taunting you as it glitches and lags. You and Childe leap to your feet, only to watch helplessly as the world crumbles away. You look down at your hands and see them beginning to break apart into pixels. Childe reaches out to hug you, to hold you close, but his hand passes right through you, a sickening reminder of how unreal he is. He wails in anguish as you both try to grasp each other, only to shatter more, the pixels covering your screen like rain on a windowpane.

Your game crashes for a second time, the only sound a desperate whimper that soon fades into an electronic squealing.

It takes a week to fix your device, the tech people saying that it was “overloaded”. Finally the repairs are finished, and you’re back at the Golden House, the doors already ajar. You slip into the room, expecting either a battle or, hopefully, someone to greet you.

But the room is empty. No one, human nor monster, stands in the center. Instead there is one lonely Ley Line Blossom, waiting, the final gift from an impossible love. 

[mercy-burning]

Trouble

Part of Mercy’s 1k Celebration: A collection of Spencer Reid x Reader requests to celebrate 1,000 followers.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: Reader decides to cause a little trouble on vacation.

Category: SMUT (18+)

Warnings: Language, sex (dom!Spencer, hair pulling, spanking, female masturbation, rough sex, light choking, oral sex- male receiving, crying during sex, degradation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cum play / if I missed anything, please let me know!)

Word Count: 6.6k

Full Requests: 

+ “...this is for dom spencer/post prison spencer!! okay so you guys are all out with the team on like a team vacation type thing! you decide to wear the cutest and smallest black bikini and tease spencer the whole day. and i mean tease him!! after you guys all separate off for the night he punishes you! spanks you and fucks you until you’re a whimpering mess! maybe you even fall into sub space and his aftercare is 10/10 amazing!!” — @slutforthegubes​ 

 + “A one-shot for reader being bratty for being clingy in front of the team, so then he punishes her by spanking, edging ect?” — @smexyreid​ 

MASTERLIST | 1K MASTERLIST

NOTE: I actually had a fluff planned for today, but I’ve been feeling rather ~spicy~ lately, so I hope this is alright 😉😂

***

Normally you didn't like to get into trouble on vacations. And really, who did? Vacations were meant to be relaxing, a way to kick back, relax, and take a break from the monotony of day-to-day life. Not to mention you and the team were far over-due for one of those breaks.

So naturally, your instincts would tell you to do just that: relax. Right?

Wrong.

You couldn't help it. As of late, your sex life was getting... interesting, to say the least. And now more than ever you were always in the mood for trouble; Whether it meant purposely bending over in the office (right in front of your boyfriend, where everyone else was in the room and he couldn't do anything about it) or touching yourself without permission, also sometimes right in front of him.

Bottom line: right now you were looking for trouble. And you knew exactly where to find it.

Trouble, in this case, took the form of a skimpy black bikini you'd spotted while shopping for the trip. it was barely a bathing suit at all, held together by thin strings that you knew would fall apart with just a mere little tug. And if that wasn't enough to entice you, it had little lace detailing that you knew would drive him insane.

Your body practically burned with desire as it sat in a bag in the backseat of your rental car, Spencer's hand on your thigh burning equally as hot.

"You feel really warm," he noted, giving your leg a comforting squeeze. "Are you okay? If you're not feeling well we can stay behind..."

"No, I'm fine," you answered truthfully with a smile. "I'm just really excited to take some time off. Lord knows we need it."

"Yeah, I know... I just wish we weren't going somewhere so... water-y..."

You laughed, placing your hand on top of his and giving it the same reassuring squeeze he'd given you. "It'll be fun. Trust me, you'll have a great time."

He didn't sound so sure about that, but he didn't know the plan you had cooked up. He was going to have fun on this trip whether he thought so or not.

***

The resort was beautiful. Hell, beautiful was nowhere near the right word for it. It was everything you'd always dreamed about, just like those fancy commercials that showed people in big pools, surrounded by palm trees and workers with white polo shirts who brought you whatever you wanted.

And the hotel rooms you stayed in? They were immaculate. It may have seemed like you were exaggerating, but honestly, you felt like a princess. The bed was just about the most comfortable thing you'd ever had the pleasure of laying on, the view was incredible, sweeping over the resort with a beautiful sunrise every morning, and the complimentary robes and towels were heavenly.

You never wanted to leave.

"Remind me to give Rossi a big hug the next time I see him," you sighed as you rolled over in bed and snuggled into Spencer's side.

He laughed softly into your hair and pulled you closer. "I know it's only been a day, but I could stay here forever. In this bed, with you..."

You smiled, feeling your heart warm at his words. "Me, too... But if you think you're gonna get out of today by being charming, then you're sorely mistaken."

Yesterday, the day you all arrived, you made a plan with Spencer: that first day would be spent settling in and having dinner with the team, going out for drinks and relaxing. And then the next day (today), you were all going to spend the day outside, enjoying the sun and enjoying each others' company. He wasn't too fond of the idea spending all day outside in the heat, but you were sure that by the end of the night he would have found it very rewarding.

Because today was the day you were initiating your plan. Since you would be in public (and you knew your boyfriend wasn't a fan of being too publicly affectionate), you were going to tease him as much as you could. You knew it would kill him, not being able to touch you in front of everyone, and you also knew it would make him mad. Most likely, he would warn you to drop it, and you would feign innocence, continuing on your merry way and proceed with the plan. And if you knew him as well as you thought, chances are he would tolerate you all day, barely putting up with your antics until you were alone for the night.

And then? Then you were hoping he would punish the hell out of you. Because honestly, nothing got your blood pumping faster than when he called you names... When he spanked you, or choked you, or refused to let you come. Or even when he did the opposite and made you orgasm so many times you cried from the overstimulation.

But you knew that whatever punishment he decided this time, it was going to be absolutely delicious.

Just the thought of it made you clench your thighs together, and Spencer seemed to notice; He brought one of his hands down to rest between them, feeling the dampness that was forming through the fabric of your underwear.

"Someone's excited this morning," he mused, pressing a kiss to your forehead as his middle finger pushed the fabric aside and gently glided through your pussy.

You sucked in a breath, nuzzling into his neck and failing to hide a smile. "Well, since we're gonna be out and about all day, don't you think we should do something about that?"

Spencer laughed again, this time slipping his finger all the way inside you, causing you to gasp out.

"That sounds like a fantastic idea, princess."

***

To say you were anxious would have been an understatement.

Because of the material of your cover-up dress, no one could see what you had on underneath unless you took it off. In reality it was more like a summer dress, landing just above the knee in a pretty black floral pattern. Your hair was up in a clip for easy taking-down, and cheap dollar-store sunglasses sat firmly on the bridge of your nose.

And just the knowledge of what was hiding beneath your seemingly innocent get-up had your stomach twisted in knots. Even as Spencer swung your hand in his as the two of you made your way to the lounge area, you pictured that same hand fisting the sheets as his wrapped around your throat while he fucked you absolutely senseless.

You hadn't even realized you were squeezing his hand so tight until he wiggled his fingers and gently nudged you with his shoulder. "You've been... squirmy and tense lately, are you sure you're alright?"

Your hand loosened its grip on his, and then you brought them up to kiss the back of his hand. "I'm fine, just excited to be in the sun all day, that's all."

There was some degree of truth to your words, but he didn't have to know that.

So, to convince him you really were fine, you practically jumped once you reached the gateway to the pool and lounge area, spotting all your friends as they waved you over. Spencer laughed as you parted from him and started walking a little faster.

"Someone's eager," Rossi mused from his chair, a glass of lemonade in his hand.

As Spencer approached behind you, Luke snickered. "Not eager enough, apparently. They're late. What were you lovebirds up to, eh?"

"Alvez, if you have to ask, you probably couldn't handle the answer," Tara said with a snicker of her own.

Funny thing was, she was absolutely right. And it made your stomach twist into even bigger knots just thinking about what happened just an hour before you left the room.

Thankfully the mood was kind enough to shift, courtesy of JJ removing her sheer cover-up and taking her sunglasses off with them. "Anyone up for a light morning swim before more people show up?"

You weren't sure whether or not it was a good idea... Did you want to start your teasing so early on that by the end of the day it was going to be an even bigger struggle to keep your hands off of Spencer, silently begging him to whisk you away and have his way with you? But what if he held out and decided to cut the day off early? If that was the case, he'd most likely drag out your punishment for hours, and is that something you wanted?

Your mind swam in a current of filthy images and possible scenarios, all of which were too damn good to pass up.

So, you counted yourself in and handed Spencer your bag, to which he gladly took and then planted a kiss on your forehead.

You waited until he was settled down, sitting at the table with Rossi—who also decided to hang back—to start removing your accessories.

The first to go was the sunglasses, easy and still unsuspicious. You were going to remove the hairclip first, but then an idea came to mind, so you easily slid out of the cover-up and let it fall to the ground.

Spencer's jaw dropped open at about the same speed, though he quickly closed it to seemingly remain unbothered. The smallest of smirks played across your lips as you bent down to pick the garment up. And you took your sweet time, purposely struggling to get it between your fingers. At one point, you had it halfway up before you 'accidentally' dropped it again, mumbling a curse under your breath.

But eventually you gave up the charade, successfully grabbing the dress and holding it out to Spencer. "Would you put this in my bag for me, babe?"

"Uh huh," he muttered, his hands practically shaking when he took it from you.

To add sugar to the pot, you took a step towards him and kissed him chastely on the mouth, just before taking the clip from your hair and shaking it out like in the movies. Truthfully you weren't sure if it was as sexy as they always made it seem, but judging by your boyfriend's inability to look at you, you figured it did the trick.

You turned and made your way to the pool then, leaving him behind with a little extra spring in your step.

***

Your swim extended until lunch time at around noon, where everyone gathered at their table. There were about thirty of these tables all around the pool, each attaching a tall umbrella to keep from the sun.

Though Spencer had seemed rattled and more shocked than anything at your outfit reveal before, now he just seemed calm. Oddly calm.

As you opened a beer, you looked over at him. "You okay, baby?"

"Yep. I'm all good."

He clearly wasn't. His hand twitched under the table, and it made your stomach flutter with butterflies as you wondered what he was thinking. Was he thinking about fucking you out here in front of everyone? Was he imagining and concocting ways to make sure you knew how much of an affect you had on him later? The thought of all of it excited you to the point of squirminess again.

It was safe to say that Spencer noticed. His hand reached out and brushed your knee about ten minutes into lunch, and it sent a jolt of electricity through you. He was never this way in public, but now he was full-on gripping your knee under the table and slowly sliding it up and up and up...

"Excuse me? Do you guys have an extra chair we could use by chance?" A voice sounded from the other side of you, and you jumped as Spencer quickly removed his hand from you.

But then you got another idea.

"Oh, here, you can use mine," you told the voice, which belonged to a middle-aged woman in a blue one-piece and a sun hat.

"Are you sure? I don't want to be any trouble..."

You stood up and smiled at her, handing over your chair as you insisted. "It's not a problem. Really."

"Thank you," she returned with a smile. "Have a great day."

"You, too!" you called as she walked off with the chair. You turned to Spencer with a smile. "You don't mind if I sit on your lap, right?"

He didn't answer, only shifted in the chair, and that gave you all the permission you needed. So you promptly sat down between his legs, and you snuggled as close to him as you could, making sure to wiggle a little more than needed without being too obvious as your friends continued chatting. Spencer's left hand gripped your hip so tightly you thought he was going to leave bruises.

That excited you more than it probably should have.

So to test your luck, you placed your hand over the top of his and drew little patterns into the back of his hand. Your other hand worked at occasionally grabbing fries to eat.

What you didn't expect was for Spencer to ask for one. Really, you didn't think much of it, though those butterflies returned in your lower belly when he ate the fry right out of your hand, bringing his face to rest right above your shoulder. Before he pulled away, he whispered just inconspicuously enough to avoid raising any red flags.

"Watch yourself, princess..."

He hissed out the nickname so harshly it made you shudder, and your thighs clenched under the table as he leaned back again.

Just in time for someone to talk.

"Why, you two are awfully clingy today." It was Penelope, giggling through a bright pink bendy straw.

You decided to play off of that, smiling and leaning back to press yourself fully against him. "This is our first vacation together, I guess I'm just excited," you said sweetly.

Spencer lightly kissed your cheek, but his hand squeezed your bare hip again. A warning not to push it.

"You know, Will and I haven't had a vacation in a while. It's kind of a bummer he had to work, otherwise we could've taken the kids." JJ pouted playfully before taking a fry.

"We'll definitely have to plan for another one of these in the future," Penelope offered happily.

You wiggled your hips just the tiniest bit as your head dropped onto Spencer's shoulder. "I agree."

His fingers were gripping your hip with brutal force now, and to cover a yelp, you faked a cough. He eased his grip, settling on splaying his entire hand flat across it instead. Its warmth mixed with the knowledge of how big it was made you all warm inside. And, God, if you didn't want to fake being sick so you could drag him up to the hotel room right then...

But you held on, ready for phase two of your plan.

While swimming before, You decided with Luke, Penelope, Tara, Matt, and Emily that a game of water-volleyball was in your future. JJ offered to call points while the rest of you, in teams, played against each other. Despite their efforts to get Rossi and Spencer to join, they both declined, but in a way you were thankful.

Being in action might just be the thing you needed to finally push him over the edge.

So soon after lunch, you all moved over to the open water-volleyball pool. JJ, Spencer, and Rossi all sat at the edge on lounge chairs to watch while you divided into two teams, Penelope, Luke, and Emily on one side, you, Tara, and Matt on the other.

Truth be told, during the game you almost completely forgot about the other little game that you were playing with Spencer—the one only you two knew about. You were quite content and happy having fun with your friends for so long that it was a distant memory.

But at one point, Matt lifted you out of the water to hit the ball, his hands firmly gripping your waist to help you do it. And you didn't think anything of it until you realized your second, and probably your most fatal, mistake.

You'd successfully spiked the ball and scored the winning point, to which your team loudly cheered. And when Matt brought you back down into the water, you flung your arms around his neck in a hug. He lifted you out of the water again as he hugged you, and over his shoulder, you spotted Spencer.

He was furious.

No one would have been able to tell, of course, but you knew. You'd seen that look before, when you were teasing him badly enough that it warranted a pretty severe punishment.

You may have won the volleyball game, but in the process you inadvertently won another game, one that excited you far more and presented you with the grand prize of one very long night.

***

Spencer was quiet with you the rest of the day. After the game, you all decided to just lay out in the sun for a few hours. Occasionally, you would sneak a glance at your boyfriend to find him in that oddly calm state again, the one that borderline scared and excited you at the same time, and for a moment you wondered if maybe you'd gone too far, even if you hadn't intentionally meant to make him jealous.

But if something was truly wrong, he would have told you. You both knew the lines between playful and serious, and this odd calm that Spencer was exuding was most definitely playful.

He only further proved that to be true when you got up to the bar to get a margarita, and you felt a presence behind you.

His hands splayed over your hips and slid forward to your stomach, pulling you back to him. The hardness you felt pressing into the thin material of your bikini made you tremble.

"I want you to finish your drink, and then I want you to meet me in our room. Take your time, princess. I'll be waiting."

Before you could even answer, he was gone, his hand lingering on your body for a moment before he let himself fully walk away. And as you slowly sipped on your drink, chatting a bit with Penelope when she came over, your skin still burned hot from his touch.

***

You took a deep breath before stepping ino the room. Your hands were shaking with excitement and your stomach churned at the sight of him.

He was perched on the bed, freshly showered, wearing nothing but a towel hung low on his hips while he read a book. His hair was wet, towel dried and hanging in soft curls in front of his eyes.

Spencer always took your breath away, but this?

You were in deep shit.

He didn't even look up from his book. He continued flipping the page and gently nodded towards the bathroom door. "Go get a shower ready. I'll be in in a minute."

Your first instinct was to obey. But then again, trouble was what you wanted in the first place, so trouble was what you were going to deliver.

"Why?"

"Because you're covered in chlorine from the pool, and you have to shower." He still didn't look up at you. And that just wouldn't do.

"I'm sure you're right, babe, but I just don't feel like it. And you can't make me."

His eyes flitted up to meet you, just for a brief second before he sighed and shut the book. "Y/N..."

"Spencer..."

"You've been a tease all day, do you really want to make it harder for yourself?" This time he was looking up at you fully, meeting you with a bored expression that was just so fucking hot. You couldn't resist.

"I don't know," you teased, crossing your arms. "Do I?"

"Trust me, princess, you don't..."

You giggled at the nickname and started walking towards him, kicking off your flip flops and uncrossing your arms in the process. "Hmm... I think I do."

"Take another step, see what happens," he offered plainly.

Just for the hell of it, you stopped and then took one giant step forward, bringing you to the edge of the bed where he was sitting. You smiled down at him and felt your insides heat up as he brought his hand out, roughly pulling at the thin fabric of your bikini. He pulled you right on top of him, just for you to be rolled over and pinned on your stomach.

His hands pinned your hands behind your back as he pushed his body into yours, making you whimper out excitedly.

"So be it. Don't make a sound unless I tell you to. Understand?" The sternness in his voice sent another chill through you as you nodded. But then one of his hands came up and tugged on your hair, pulling your neck back. "Answer me."

"I understand," you said, though not without making it sound like you were bored.

That only seemed to make him more mad, which of course was a win for you. He tugged your hair harder, causing you to yelp out with a masochistic laugh.

"Something funny?" he inquired evenly.

"You're cute when you're mad," you offered with a shit-eating grin, wiggling your ass against him.

This time, instead of pulling your head back, he shoved it down into the mattress, his hand shifting to hook his middle finger around your cheek and into your mouth. "You're cute when you shut up and obey me... But I have a feeling you're not going to be very good for me tonight, are you princess?"

You only hummed around his finger in response, clenching your pussy around nothing as your body suddenly went wild with a wave of pleasure at his words.

"That's what I thought... Let's see how well you take your spankings, maybe then I'll go easy on you later."

He wasted no time then, yanking your swim bottoms down and running his hand over the curve of your ass.

"Let's see... One—" SMACK. "—for making a show of wearing this slutty little bikini."

To keep it interesting, you wiggled your ass for more, and he returned the favor by spanking you even harder than the last time. "Two, for giving away your chair just to sit in my lap." Very quickly after, he administered another one, following with, "Three, for teasing me at lunch in front of our friends."

"But I d—"

SMACK. "Four, for interrupting me," he said quietly. And with the way his hand was rubbing over your stinging skin, he was no doubt admiring his work so far. He even hummed, lifting his hand occasionally, leading you to think he was going to spank you again— Only for him to settle on rubbing over your ass again.

He was drawing this out. Taking his time. Seeing how antsy you would get.

Needless to say, it was working.

Your hands, which were still pinned behind your back by Spencer's other hand, started to flex, and you whimpered out in want.

"What's the matter, princess?" he cooed.

"I... I want you," is all you could think to say. Because you really did.

"Bad girls don't get what they want. Especially brats. So tell me, do you think I'm going to give you what you want?"

You were supposed to answer him, but in the name of trouble, you remained silent.

He waited for an answer that never came. And when he was tired of waiting, realizing what you were doing, Spencer spanked you again. "Five, for not answering me."

Before you could do or say anything, he landed another slap to your ass. "And six, for having Matt's hands all over you."

You couldn't help it. You laughed. "Oh, that got to you, huh? His hands were nice and big. Reminded me of y—ah!"

He spanked you again, hard. Tears stung behind your eyes and you smiled through them.

"Seven," he growled. "For being a fucking brat."

You took a few deep breaths before speaking again. "Aw, are you jealous? You really think I would—fuck!"

Another spank. "Eight. Don't you dare get it to ten." It was obvious that he was challenging you. Either that, or you were just looking for trouble so badly that you were willing to hear his words as a challenge. But regardless, you challenged him back with one simple, breathy word.

"Nine."

SMACK. "Nine. You must really be looking for trouble, huh?"

You laughed, wiggling your ass one more time. "You don't even know the half of it."

Spencer spanked you one last time, harder than all the rest of them, and you actually yelped out, squeezing your eyes shut.

"Ten. Now get in the shower, or I'll make it double."

You thought about it, but a shower actually sounded really good, and it would give you a chance to breathe before he utterly wrecked you in a little while.

"Okay," you offered, slumping against the bed loosely to show him your surrender. He gently let go of you then, rubbing over your ass a few times before pulling away from you and helping you stand.

"You want me to put something on that now or later?" he asked gently, brushing the hair from your face.

"Later," you returned with a wink and a smile.

He huffed a laugh before gently smacking your ass one more time and sending you off in the shower.

***

As excited as you were for the rest of the evening, you were tempted to take as long in the shower as you wanted, just to see what Spencer would do. But you decided to just take a shower normally, rinsing out your hair just as you always did. You quickly washed up your body, wincing a bit at the sting of your ass under the soap and warm water.

And then you started thinking about how exhilarated you felt as he punished you. Each sharp, warm smack of his hand on your skin made you feel utterly electric and wet. It was a wonder you weren't actually dripping down your leg and onto the bed at how badly you wanted him.

The thought sent your hand down to said wetness. You really shouldn't have been touching yourself, but you were practically burning for him, melting at the amount of teasing you'd done today and the anticipation that came with every move. Your hand was relentless, looking for its own trouble as you moaned out as quietly as you could. The water was still cascading down your back as you rubbed tight, fast circles on your clit, hoping to get fast relief.

And then a knock came at the door.

"I want you out here in five minutes!"

Sure enough, Spencer's voice was enough to finally push you off the edge, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through you. But as soon as it subsided, you turned the water off and got out to dry yourself off.

Hopefully he wouldn't ever find out what you've done. But the devious side of you really wanted to know what he'd do if he did.

With that thought flooding your brain, you quickly finished drying off and walked out into the bedroom to find Spencer waiting on the bed again. His towel was still wrapped around his waist, and it gave you an idea.

You winked and dropped your own towel, revealing yourself fully to him.

"Did I ask you to drop the towel?" he chastised.

"Nope," you replied, placing your hands on your hips.

"Then why did you do it?"

You decided to take the mocking route, drawling out an overexaggerated, "Because I'm a dirty little whore, and I need you to put your big cock inside me."

"Are you done?"

He looked bored again, and it made you want him even more. So you said, "No. Once your cock is in me, I wa—"

"Were you touching yourself in the shower?"

Holy fuck.

"No."

Spencer stood up and glided over to you until he was towering over you, clearly unbelieving of your blatant lie. "No?"

"No," you repeated, the tiniest of smirks forming on your lips.

Without warning, his hand was between your legs, and a gasp left you as he found your clit, rubbing it almost exactly the same way you'd been earlier. You couldn't help the strangled moan that left your mouth, and he smirked knowingly.

"Yep. Those are definitely the sounds I heard."

And then he removed his hand, making you whine at the loss of contact. "I'm sorry," you whispered, hoping he'd return, if only to punish you for what you did by overstimulating you.

He seemed to have another idea, though.

"You're sorry?"

"Mhm," you whimpered, reaching out to grab his hand. "I'm so sorry."

When you had hold of his hand, he took control, gripping your wrist and pushing it away, and then he grabbed your shoulder. "Then why don't you get on your knees—" he pushed on your shoulder and you obliged happily, "—and show me how sorry you are..."

Your pussy throbbed around nothing as you looked up at him, eagerly waiting for his towel to drop. But he didn't move, and it was clear that he was waiting on you to do it.

So you yanked the towel down and marveled at how hard and ready he was. Your head seemed to move of its own accord, like it was magnetically drawn to his dick, and you weren't complaining. And then your tongue flattened and licked a broad stripe underneath him, before you quickly made work of taking him completely into your mouth.

It didn't take long to start a nice rhythm bobbing up and down, occasionally looking up to see him. Again, he looked bored, and though that would have spurred you on before, now you were desperate to please. So you worked your mouth faster, slacking your jaw and taking him in deeper, using your hands to keep yourself steady by gripping the back of his thighs. You moaned and gagged around him, yet kept your pace up regardless.

"Come on, princess, you can do better than that," he teased, fisting your hair and holding you down on his cock. "Apologize like you mean it."

He released your hair then, and you pulled back to take a breath of air before spitting obscenely on his dick and quickly stroking him with your hand. "I'm sorry, baby, I'm so so sorry," you whined, right before taking his balls in your mouth. You kept at that for a few moments before going to take him in your mouth again.

This time you were meaningful in every single movement, taking him in slow and deep. Each time he hit the back of your throat you held yourself there and choked around him as long as you could, tears falling from your eyes. And then you'd pull away slowly, swirling your tongue around his tip before repeating.

Eventually though, he pulled you away completely and studied you as you sat there, knelt on the floor in front of him with red eyes, and tears and spit completely coating your face. Your lips were glistening and puffy as you panted, whispering soft apologies.

"What a good girl," Spencer mused, brushing hair from your eyes and wiping tears from your cheeks. "I accept your apology. Come here."

His gentle voice all but pulled you to him as you stood on shaky knees. He hadn't even really done anything to you yet, and you were already a mess. That fact made you smile.

You wiped most of the mess from your face and nodded. "So, what's my reward?"

Spencer huffed a laugh. "For being a brat? Nothing."

"Aw, but I thought I earned your forgiveness..." You pouted playfully, and he pulled you closer by the waist.

"Yeah, well you're being cocky, so I take it back."

Before you could say anything, he kissed you, bringing both of his hands up to cradle the sides of your head. You all but melted into him and let him lead you to the bed, where you were turned around and bent over again.

He used his leg to spread yours apart, right before bringing a hand to the nape of your neck. As he grabbed a fistful of your hair and gently tugged your head back, his other hand fell between your legs and gently parted you.

"You ready, princess?"

"Uh huh," you whined back, right as he pushed forward and glided his cock through your pussy. He waited, making you anticipate that sweet moment when he'd finally enter you, and you could tell he was enjoying every second. You wiggled against him, and he yanked your hair.

"Ah-ah, be patient... Be patient..."

He continued just sliding himself through your opening until you weren't expecting it. And then he slammed into you, eliciting a loud moan from the back of your throat.

"Sh, shh," Spencer expressed, releasing your hair and sliding his hand to cover your mouth. "Everyone's going to hear you, princess, you need to keep quiet. Can you do that for me?"

"Mhm," you mumbled against his hand, letting out a strangled sigh when he placed it on your shoulder instead. He kept up a nice, hard pace pounding into you, each slap of his hips against your burning ass just the right amount of pain to be pleasant. And you were thankful for the bed underneath you, because if you didn't have it, you'd surely have buckled under the weight of your knees already.

Feeling how limp you were in his grasp, Spencer used both his hands to wrap around the front of your throat, keeping you upright as your hands pressed into the mattress.

"Tell me, princess, do you think you deserve to come so soon?"

You were so caught up in how hard and deep he was fucking you that you were pretty sure it wouldn't matter what you told him— you were going to orgasm regardless, because there was no way you could even fathom trying to hold it in. Whether or not Spencer would show you any mercy at that point was a mystery.

You were just going to have to find out.

"I—I... Ohhhh..."

You heard him laugh lowly, and it made you clench around him. "Oh, it hasn't even been five minutes, and I've already fucked you so dumb you can't even speak? Huh?"

You whined in response, letting your head fall to the side as you tried to look at him. And you barely caught a glimpse of his hair as he continued speaking. "Aw... My poor little princess... That's what you get, isn't it? When you act like a dirty little whore..."

He was recalling what you'd teased earlier, and it brought you closer to the edge more than you liked to admit.

"Uh... huh," you whined out, dangerously close to coming undone.

"Alright then, princess. Come for me, show me what you got."

Unsurprisingly, it didn't take very long for that to happen. You let out a string of whimpers and cries as he fucked you through your orgasm, his hands slightly tightening around your throat as well. Every sensation was blinding and intense, just like you knew it'd be, even if it was only your second orgasm of the night.

And you had a decent suspicion that it wasn't going to be your last.

Even after you were done, Spencer kept at it, relentlessly fucking you into the mattress until your legs were surely numb. Your knees were still sore from being on the floor before, and likewise, your ass was still burning. Not to mention the overstimulation you were experiencing as one of his hands moved down to rub at your clit.

Eventually though, he stopped, and you weren't sure why. But then he flipped you around, laying you on the edge of the bed and leaning over you, his hands brushing more of the tears from your cheeks.

"I wanna see your pretty little eyes when I come, okay? You think you can keep 'em open for me, princess?"

"Mhm," you whined out as he pushed into you again.

He settled on a slow pace that built and built until he was fucking you fast and hard and incredibly deep. His entire body leaned into yours as he snapped his hips forward over and over again, brutal in their goal to completion. You kept whining out, feeling another orgasm coming quickly as you let yourself succumb to him.

"That's it, princess, you're taking it so well. We're almost done..." He whispered comforts into your temple, moments before you reached your peak once more. You shook violently underneath him, which was all he needed to finish himself.

He pulled back and looked into your eyes, filled with tears at the overstimulation, as he snapped his hips forward once, twice, and then three times before letting go. He held himself inside of you, moaning out while looking into your eyes. The feel of his cock throbbing and spilling over inside of you was just about the most comforting thing in the world right then, accompanied by soft brushes of his fingers through your hair and even softer declarations of love.

Long after he stayed inside of you, catching his breath, Spencer pulled out and examined you, the way your body glistened perfectly with the right amount of sweat. Your chest heaved, each dip and curve and peak of your breasts slowly rising and falling as you trembled. He slid down your body, until finally his eyes caught sight of your pussy, glistening and dripping with his cum. It absolutely wrecked him in the best way possible, so much so that he couldn't help himself.

He brought his hand to your opening, gently scooping up his cum and gathering it onto the pads of his fingers. You moaned out as he did it, and he knew then exactly what he wanted.

"Open up, princess," he pried softly, bringing his fingers to your mouth. You gladly did what you were told and sighed out as he glided them over your tongue, practically spoon-feeding you his cum. He pumped his fingers in and out of your mouth slowly, feeling every vibration on your tongue from the sounds you made. And then he did it again, bringing his fingers back to your pussy to gather more of his mess.

He did this until it was pretty much all gone, and truthfully, you would have let it go on forever. The intimacy of it all, the soft and sensual way in which he explored and watched you, and the love you felt for each other all wrapped up in a shiny, red bow was the perfect end to a perfect day.

You would have fallen asleep, but Spencer was gently nudging your arm. "Hey, you," he said gently, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I think it's time to run us a bath, don't you think?"

"Sure," you agreed quietly with a smile. "And then we can sleep, right?"

"I think the team might get mad at us for ditching dinner, but I'm willing to risk that."

With a laugh, you reached over and kissed him. "Good. I love you, Spencer."

"I love you, too, princess."

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[holy-hyuck]

NCT Dream Reaction: They See You Wearing Their Clothes

warning: there’s like a swear word or two in jaemin’s

by the way, would you guys want me to add shotaro and sungchan as a bonus into these since they’re not in a permanent unit yet?

also no, i absolutely do not have a crush on jaemin, what are you talking about?

Mark

It was so cold, so unbelievably cold in Mark’s apartment. You told him to fix the heating but he’s been too busy binging Netflix to bother. Shivering in your thin tee, you rummaged through Mark’s closet for something warm to wear. If he wasn’t going to get the heating sorted, you were going to steal every last one of his hoodies until he had no other choice.

Throwing the black, oversized hoodie over your head, you made your way downstairs and plopped on the couch beside him, making him turn his attention away from the TV screen and towards you.

“Is that my- Is that my hoodie?”

“Yes, it is. Actually, it’s now mine, at least until you get the heating fixed.” You crossed your arms over your chest and raised an eyebrow at your boyfriend.

Laughing, he threw his arms around you and started mumbling into your neck.

“Gosh, you’re so cute, you have no idea.”

You let out a whine, surrendering. This was not how this was supposed to go.

Renjun

You stayed over at the Dreamies’ dorm with the intent of catching up with them since their busy schedule meant you barely saw them - especially your boyfriend. A sleepover and a movie night seemed like a great idea.

The boys already had a table stacked with snacks and drinks.

You made the awful decision of wearing denim shorts, which meant twisting and turning for the first thirty minutes of the first movie Jeno picked until he had to go to the toilet and you paused it.

“Are you okay?” Jaemin asked, seeing your discomfort.

You shook your head, looking over at your boyfriend. “Do you have anything comfortable I could wear?” you asked, a puppy-like look on your face (or at least an attempted one), and he obliged, bringing you a pair of his sweatpants.

Once Jeno exited the toilet, you changed into your boyfriend’s clothes, coming back into the living room. Upon seeing you, Renjun burst into laughter, the already slightly baggy (on him) sweatpants completely drowning out your legs so it looked like you were wearing a trash bag over them.

“Y-You l-look great-”

He managed between laughs, covering his face, his head falling back into the couch cushions as he nearly fell on Jaemin. He was hoping his hand also covered his blush because - although he wasn’t sure what exactly it was - something about you wearing his clothes made him feel fuzzy inside and he hoped to see you in them again - just maybe in different circumstances.

Jeno

Out on the beach with your friends was the best way you could think of to spend the last weekend off before school. You sat on the sand, watching Yeri and Jaemin splash each other with water, their swimming suits soaked. They've been at it for the past fifteen minutes, and it all started because Jaemin drank one espresso too much and threw Yeri into the water.

You sat next to Jeno, both of you watching your friends laugh, and next to him sat Renjun, who typed on his phone like his life depended on it. You and Jeno didn't speak much; you were a bit awkward around each other, you'll admit, but that's only because two months ago, you kissed during a game of spin the bottle, and it was a little more heated than you would like, and now maybe, just maybe, you've developed a crush on the black-haired boy.

It was weird - you've known him for three years, and never looked at him that way. Only after the kiss, you started seeing him as this handsome guy with crescent-shaped eyes when he smiled, and not just a friend who wasn't ugly.

Your two friends finally got out of the water, making their way to their towels and drying themselves off. You shivered, the evening weather finally catching up to you. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you rubbed the skin harshly, hoping to generate some heat, and hoping you'll be making your way back home soon.

Renjun noticed this and shoved Jeno with his elbow, gesturing to you. When Jeno gave him a confused look, he rolled his eyes and started tugging on Jeno's jacket in an attempt to take it off. They had a little fight to the right of you, but you were none the wiser and ignored them until Jeno cleared his throat. You looked in his direction to see him taking off his jacket and draping it across your shoulders before giving you a small smile.

"You looked like you needed it."

You smiled at him. "Thank you." Both of you looked at the sand beneath your feet, heat rising to your cheeks.

To your left, Jaemin and Yeri exchanged a look and simultaneously rolled their eyes. You were both so goddamn oblivious.

Haechan / Donghyuck

You clipped your hair back with the lonely bobby pin in your pocket, pulling the jacket around you tighter to brace yourself for the ruthless winds outside. Exiting the shop with Donghyuck by your side, you picked up your pace to make it home before it became any colder or windier - which it did, a minute into your journey.

The wind made your eyes water and you shrunk yourself, head down, ignoring your boyfriend, who began failing to catch up to you.

Suddenly, you felt something warm wrap around your neck and turned around to find your boyfriend securing his scarf around it, unzipping your jacket to tuck it underneath, then zipping it back up. It left his neck exposed due to the low-cut t-shirt he wore under his leather jacket, and you frowned at the sight of it, opening your mouth to protest before he interrupted you.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine. You look like you need it more than me.”

Wrapping his arm around you, thus offering you even more of his body’s warmth, he led you towards his apartment, where he made you hot cocoa and cuddled you until you felt warm again.

You still didn’t take off his scarf, and he never asked for it back.

Jaemin

Maybe you didn't remember much from last night, however, when you woke up with a white, oversized denim jacket hanging from your desk chair, you were reminded of Jaemin - a loud and charming boy from one of your classes - lending you the covering after he walked you home after one too many drinks. In your defence, you bet with your friend that you could handle more shots than her, and won (the vomiting-in-the-garden part doesn't matter).

You got ready and rushed into your lecture hall, sitting somewhere in the middle and eyeing the students to spot the black-haired boy. When you managed to finally do so, he was already talking to one of his best friends, and the professor had started the lecture.

At the end of the lecture, you went up to Jaemin, who again, had busied himself talking to his friend. But when the other boy, Lee Jeno, saw you, he slapped Jaemin across the chest to get his attention.

Finally, Jaemin turned to you, taking a second or two to take in your appearance, his denim jacket hanging loosely on your shoulders. He almost laughed, his smile getting bigger than you've ever seen it. In the background, Jeno was laughing his ass off at Jaemin's reaction.

You cleared your throat. "Sorry, I just saw it on my chair today. It's yours right?" You took the jacket off of you and handed it to him once the boy nodded his head. "Thanks for last night, I don't know how I've survived but you certainly made it easier. Anyway, I'll see you later. You too, Jeno."

The older boy waved his hand at you and walked to Jaemin as the two of them watched you leave. "They looked good, huh?"

Jaemin looked to Jeno and smiled. "Fucking gorgeous."

Chenle

You may or may not have gotten too comfortable during your last few weeks of university, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie every day around your house, only swapping out the bottoms for a pair of jeans when going out. Honestly, you couldn't even remember the last time you put any effort into your appearance.

However, the dreadful day came when you had to meet Chenle's friends. You weren't dating for long, only a couple of weeks at most, so you felt the need to impress both them and your boyfriend. Thankfully, the plan to go to an amusement park were cancelled and swapped out for a movie night, so you felt okay with throwing on a hoodie and calling it a day. Spotting a bright blue coloured one in the corner of your bed, and realising it's Chenle's, you quickly pulled it over your head and rushed out of your house after realising you were late.

You were shaking the whole way to Jisung's house, hoping to calm down by the time you got there. He graciously let you inside and introduced you to two other guys and a girl, and you hoped they would spare you the embarrassment of wiping their hands after touching your sweaty palm.

"I like your hoodie," the girl said.

"Oh, thank you. It's Chenle's, actually," you replied after a beat. "Um, where is he?" You looked around, unable to spot the blond boy.

Suddenly, you heard a high-pitched scream coming from your right, an exclamation of "cute!" yelled your way, right before being tackled to the ground by the man-child in question. He pulled the hood over your head and grinned down at you.

"I'm guessing you like it?"

Jisung

Grabbing a book off Jisung's bedside table, you plopped on his bed with nothing but his thick, blue robe on. Admittedly, it was warm and cosy; definitely something you would have to steal. You skimmed through some of the pages of the history textbook before becoming bored and chucking it next to you.

Standing up from the mattress, you wandered around his room, waiting until he finished his shower.

"Hey, have you seen my-" Jisung came out of the bathroom, holding a towel to his chest, "-robe?"

He sighed, looking at you in his garment as you smiled like the Cheshire cat.

"Can I have that back?"

You skidded across the room to stand in front of him, going on your tip-toes and giving him a peck on the lips. "Nope."

Jisung shook his head at your antics before going to change into some clothes.

[nightingaelic]

Reactions to a vampire courier? Companions plus Benny, Ulysses, Graham, House, Caesar, and Yes Man. (sorry if that's too many :x)

TW: Blood (maybe obviously)

Also I don't normally feel some type of way about AUs but the idea of Joshua Graham encountering a vampire courier is giving me shivers

The courier was a little... strange. Not in any way that stood out to the average wastelander just by looking at them, everyone in the Mojave had their quirks and the courier was no exception. Hell, you get shot in the head and come back, you're bound to have a screw or two loose. They were unquestionably a night owl, but so were half the people on the Strip, who only started to wake up after the sun had gone down and the slot machines were singing their loudest. They usually had bags under their bloodshot eyes, but every caravan driver from here to the Hub was short on sleep.

On the other hand, the courier had some habits that were a little beyond surface-level eccentricities. For one, no one had ever seen them eating, not once. Even when the King laid out a spread of pre-war snacks and liquor or when the buffet at the Tops was refreshed, they politely declined and took a swig from the canteen that they never offered to anyone else. They were also rather odd about bathrooms, insisting that anyone accompanying them remain outside on watch and let no one else through the door until they were finished. But the undeniable moment of oddity came one night in October, when their companion rounded a corner in Freeside after a trip to the Atomic Wrangler and discovered the courier behind a rusted dumpster, holding a man against a brick wall with their teeth buried in his neck.

The courier drew back at the interruption, blood smeared across their face. "I'm not- it's not what- he- oh, fuck."

Arcade Gannon: Arcade stared open-mouthed for a moment, before snapping violently back into the present. "Is he dead?"

"Umm..." The courier glanced at the man they were holding, whose head was lolling against the bricks. "Yes? Mostly."

With no patient to resuscitate, Arcade rounded on them. "Six, what in the ever-loving fuck are you doing?"

The courier tried to wipe away the blood that was dribbling from their chin, but they only succeeded in spreading it up their jawline. "Well, I, um, I was trying to..."

Whatever excuse they were searching for eluded them, so they dropped the pretense. "I was feeding, Arcade."

"Feeding? What, like some kind of-" Arcade's eyes widened and he cut his sentence off early in realization. "No. No way. That's not- vampires aren't real!"

That earned him a look of intense skepticism. "Arcade, we've fought off plant monsters and rattlesnake-coyote hybrids together. I have a gun in my pack that lets me teleport."

"Oh, okay, so you have some kind of iron deficiency and you're delusional." Arcade laughed, the sound high and harsh in the quiet alley. "Great. Fuck."

Craig Boone: Rather than engage in an abandoned alley, Boone immediately backtracked to a busier street. He was unsurprised when the courier didn't follow him: Even in Freeside, someone covered in blood was sure to be noticed and questioned.

Boone left town that night and made for Novac. He was pretty sure the courier would follow him, but he didn't know where else to go. At least he knew they were coming. A few people in Novac asked about where he'd been, what the courier was up to, but eventually they stopped asking.

A couple of weeks went by. Boone was on the night shift again when the door into the dinosaur swung open to reveal the courier. He'd heard someone coming, their feet on the stairs, and he already had his gun pointed in their face. "We will never work together again," he said, before they could open their mouth.

"Boone, can you just-"

"I don't want an explanation." Boone shook his head. "I don't need one. I already did you a favor, leaving New Vegas without putting you back in your grave. This is over."

The courier took a deep breath. "71."

"What?"

"71. I've killed 71 Legion soldiers and left their bodies empty under the Mojave sky." They looked down and shuffled their feet. "I've tasted their fear. They're more scared of me than the Burned Man, now."

Boone studied them. Ever so slowly, he lowered his gun.

Lily Bowen: "Put him down, dearie," Lily chastised them. "You're playing too roughly with that man. And watch your language around your grandma!"

The courier looked down at their victim, at their torn throat and limp limbs. "He tried to mug me, Lily. It wasn't pretty."

"He looks like he's had enough," Lily insisted. "Set him down. Gently."

With a sigh, the courier obliged and lowered the man to the ground. "I'm sorry, Lily. I should have told you earlier. I don't mean to be rude when I turn down your cooking, I just... I can't seem to..."

"Hush, now." Lily produced her enormous handkerchief and gathered the courier up in her arms, dabbing at the blood on their face with a corner of the cloth. "You've gotten it all over yourself, haven't you? We can clean that right up, but it looks like Grandma's going to have to do a load of laundry. You made the mess, so you get to help."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: Raul swallowed nervously, something he'd noticed he was increasingly doing around the courier. "You know, we get murciélagos down in Arizona that do the same thing. They won't leave the brahmin alone."

The courier took in his anxious stance and sighed. "Raul, I'm not going to hurt you. Prometo. It's okay."

"Sure boss, but I don't think the hair on the back of my neck is going down anytime soon." Raul smiled, but it was more of a grimace. "Or it wouldn't, if I still had any. Como..?"

"No clue." The courier shrugged and held their hands up, letting the corpse they'd been holding slide to the ground. "I think it had something to do with me surviving Benny's best attempts to do me in, but a bullet is a bullet and I don't remember if I was like this before, or..."

"Or only after." Raul chuckled. "Jesucristo, and here I am thinking I'll outlive you like most everyone else I've known."

"Yep."

"Should I start calling you el chupacabra?"

The courier grinned, a bloody smile with sharp teeth.

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: "Fuck," Cass echoed, scrambling to pull her shotgun from its holster. "Knew I had too much, can't even- who are you and what've you done with the courier? Some kind of cannibal, wearing their skin? Alien? Shapeshifter? I'll blow a hole in your liver to match mine!"

"Whoa, Cass, it's me, it's me!" The courier dropped the man they were holding and held their blood-stained hands up. "Same old Six, just... maybe I wasn't straight with you about why I don't order anything at bars."

"Goddamn right you weren't straight with me!" Cass gestured at the body on the ground with the barrel of her gun. "Who's the fucker on the floor and why are you two pints in on him?"

"Just trying to get my drink on," the courier muttered.

Cass repaid this facetiousness with a jab of her shotgun, and they raised their hands higher. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry! You tell me, how do you tactfully tell someone that you're a creature of the night and you need to drink blood to survive?"

"Creature of the night? You're fucking loopy." Cass' eyes narrowed. "There's plenty of critters in the Mojave that only come out when it's dark, but most of them don't tear into..."

She trailed off into curses when she realized she was wrong. The courier smiled hesitantly and lowered their hands an inch. "Hey. Let me chuck this failed mugger in the dumpster and we can talk about it like a pair of civilized folks?"

Veronica Santangelo: Veronica squeaked and fell back a few steps, banging her elbow against the edge of the dumpster. A jolt of confused pain shot up her arm, and the Scribe couldn't help giggling harshly at the sudden assault on her funny bone.

"Not- laughing... at murder," she managed to get out between hisses of pain. "Oh, for the love of... right, you're not getting out of explaining what you are, exactly, just because I'm indis-indisposed!"

The courier couldn't help laughing at the squirming Scribe, but they did their best to stifle it. "Sorry, I'm sorry, I um... I guess I don't really know... what I am?"

"There's books!" Veronica burst out, pointing at the courier and their victim wildly. "I've seen them, in old libraries. Creatures that feed on blood, only come out at night, don't show up in... in mirrors, of course, no wonder you're weird about bathrooms, I should test... Dracula! That's it, you're a Dracula!"

"A Dracula?" The courier held their hands up, as if seeing them anew. "Never heard of them. Are they... bad?"

"Well, traditionally, yes." Veronica made a face and rubbed her elbow. "Black cloaks, sleeping in coffins, seducing and manipulating everyone around them... and people don't like it when you take their blood, in my experience."

"Whose blood have you taken?"

"This isn't about me, Six!"

ED-E: The eyebot bobbed wildly and made noises of concern, blips and blats and a flat burst of trumpets from some old jazz tune.

"I was hungry," the courier protested. "And this asshole pulled a knife on me and wanted all of my caps. Probably more than that, if we're being honest. He wasn't doing the world any good, but he did me some, for sure."

ED-E flipped between old clips of a Silver Shroud radio show. "Well, isn't this a deep, dark <static> secret? <static> In a situation such as this, the best anyone can do is <static> try to control it!" The robot added some more concerned beeps for good measure.

"I'm trying," the courier said with a sigh, looking down at the dead man they were holding. "You know I wouldn't hurt some random person, ED-E. Not if I could help it. The Mojave's full of bad people, enough to keep me going if I'm careful."

Rex: The hair on Rex's spine stood up, and he let out a long, low growl. The courier froze for a moment, before realizing that he was growling not at them but at the man they were holding.

"He's dead, Rex," they reassured the cyberdog, lowering the corpse to the floor for inspection.

Rex sniffed the body over, taking in the copper scent of his blood and the Freeside stink on his clothes. He sniffed the courier too, each of their hands they held out to him and the thick headiness of adrenaline. He whined and wagged his tail twice.

"Good boy," the courier said, straightening up. "It's about time I turned in, anyway. Let's dump this guy and split."

Benny Gecko: Benny crossed his arms. "You know, Six, if you're dead set on getting your kicks in Freeside every now and then, you might want to ease up on the passions with the next greaser you snag. This one's torn all to pieces."

"I wasn't- what kind of-" The courier dropped the man they were holding and sputtered. "Christ, only you could make a midnight murder awkward, Benny."

"Murder?" Benny raised his eyebrows and looked from side to side theatrically. "Who said anything about a murder? All I saw was some dreamboat and the best apple butterer of New Vegas playing back alley bingo, officer."

The courier's eyes narrowed. "Not gonna rat me out? Tell the King or somebody that I'm..."

"What, taking a page out of the White Glove Society's book?" Benny held his hands up. "None of my business. Well, if you ever come for me with that look in your eyes, though, that'll be a different story."

"Not much you'd be able to do," the courier pointed out. "You already tried and failed to kill me once."

Ulysses: Rather than react like any normal wastelander might've upon encountering someone attacking a man with their teeth, Ulysses just stood there, taking the scene in. "Heard tales of a tribe like you. East, farther east than even I've walked... a coven hiding in tunnels, emerging only when their hungers grow too strong to ignore, strong enough to pull blood from the veins of the world around them."

"Well, I don't hide in tunnels." The courier grimaced and heaved their victim up over their shoulder, depositing them unceremoniously in the dumpster. "Unless some disgruntled Frumentarius sends me out to hunt mutants under Hopeville."

"Perhaps you have more in common with those predators than I assumed," Ulysses admitted. "But then, your path has always run red. Blood of the Old World, blood of the new, blood of the Bull and the Bear..."

The courier rolled their eyes as they peeled off their red-stained coat and tossed it in the dumpster as well. "Don't talk to me about blood. I know you've seen just as much as me, but it doesn't mean the same thing when I look at it."

Ulysses cracked a hint of a smile. "You see life where I see death. Two sides, courier."

"Yeah, yeah. If you're not going to try to kill me, come on. You can wax poetic and lecture me about which road I'm walking while I take a shower."

Joshua Graham: "A creature far from God," Graham said in his most reproachful tone. "Forever damned for the souls of the innocent they've taken from the earth. Aren't we a pair, courier."

"You can fuck right off with that attitude." The courier dropped the man they were holding and wiped their hands on their coat. "He tried to kill me first. For some caps."

"The crimes of others do not absolve you of your own sins, courier," Graham continued, leisurely retrieving his gun from its holster. He held it up in the muted neon light that filtered through the alley, turning the weapon this way and that. "Though I confess I am also looking for absolution in this way."

"Are you going to kill me?" the courier asked, eyeing the gun as well.

"I've no doubt it would leave this world better than when you walked it," Graham replied. "But my own opinions are not enough to seal your fate. Perhaps we should find this man's family and hear their feelings on the matter."

The courier took a step forward, then another, until their chest was right up against the pistol's muzzle, pressed against the fabric of their shirt. "Go ahead. Try."

And though Joshua Graham was sorely tempted to pull the trigger, though the courier made no move to stop him, something in their eyes... some faraway pain, older than the desert itself, fresh as the blood on the ground, stayed his hand.

He lowered the gun, chastised, and the courier walked away.

Robert House: The Securitron that bore Robert House's face on its screen leveled a minigun at the courier. "Whoa!" the courier protested, dropping their victim and putting their hands out. "Can't we talk about this?"

"And what have we to discuss?" House sounded absolutely disgusted. "I believe you're familiar with my contract with the White Glove Society. If they wish to continue their current prosperity in New Vegas, cannibalism is strictly forbidden. You are subject to the same terms and conditions, as one of my employees."

"Terms and condi- hold on, hold on, you never asked me whether I was a cannibal," the courier replied. "Are you talking about that document you had me sign, way back when I agreed to help you fight the NCR and the Legion?"

"The very same."

"How is that fair? That thing was over 200 pages long, I didn't grow up in the 21st century, I don't have a degree in... okay, okay." The courier waved their hands. "Cannibalism is a no-go. This isn't cannibalism, this is vampirism."

"Which falls under the definition of cannibalism," House replied, his annoyed tone still detectable over the sound of the minigun spinning up. "Section 3.65, subsection F. Next time, read the fine print."

Caesar: The Legion's great leader pivoted in an instant from surprise to quiet anger. "Clean yourself up, courier. I expect to see you in my quarters within the hour."

He turned and left the alley swiftly, letting his powerful stride and swinging cloak cover his shaken confidence. The people of Freeside cowered as he passed, shrinking into the shadows as he made his way back to the Strip, but the fear in their eyes was not enough to erase the image of the courier bent over in bloodlust, holding their victim in total subjugation.

The courier found him on the top floor of the Lucky 38, gazing out over the city he had conquered and named his Rome. "Leave us," Caesar bid his Praetorian Guard. They bowed and departed the room without question.

"You asked to see me," the courier said nervously, shifting their weight from foot to foot. They had changed clothes, and no trace of blood remained on them.

"I did." Caesar beckoned them to the window next to him. They stood in silence for a moment, watching the lights wink below.

"I'm a well-read man, courier," Caesar said finally. "I know the legends of the Old World, and I recognize the marks of one of their nightmares in you. I order you to tell me the truth: Do you fit the full definition of the creature they called 'vampire,' or do you simply mimic the things to add to your fearsome affect?"

The courier didn't answer right away. When they did, their voice was soft. "I pretend to be nothing. I am what I am."

"And everything that comes with it?" Caesar pressed. "Darkness, the blood of the innocent, eternity?"

"Yes."

Caesar turned to face them fully. "Then I, Almighty Caesar, command you to make me as you are."

Yes Man: "Now that's a twist I didn't see coming!" Yes Man said, his happy tone only slightly tempered with uncertainty. "Boy, am I glad I don't have a circulatory system right now!"

The courier shushed the Securitron and looked around the alley surreptitiously. "Yes Man, I swear to god, if you blow my cover I'm disassembling you."

"As I've told you before, I can't technically die!" Yes Man reassured them. "And I certainly wouldn't want to endanger you and your hobbies, but my volume mixer is tied to my enthusiasm simulator and I can't adjust it! You'll just have to hope any passersby aren't interested in following my friendly voice into an alley!"

"Then go back to the Lucky 38 and we'll talk later," the courier insisted, through gritted teeth.

"I technically never left! But if you mean this Securitron, sure thing!" Yes Man zoomed away on his single wheel, whistling the whole way back to the casino where the rest of his consciousness was housed. He kept whistling as he ran probability algorithms, only pausing when the courier returned after a few hours and crossed their arms in front of his main screen.

"Hi there!" he said joyfully. "I've just been cross-checking Mr. House's records on noteworthy disappearances in the Strip, and I've flagged eight of them as potentially being connected to you! I don't want to assume your intentions, but if you don't want to be found out, I've developed a plan for choosing your next victims that will help you remain undetected in New Vegas for 184 years! Give or take a few!"

The courier put their head in their hand and sighed.

[lyon-amore]

Guardian Chapter 3

JakexF!MC  Genre: Romance, Drama  Suitable for everybody.  Events during the chapter in chapter 8 Warning: mention of death Previous chapter ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- *Jake POV*  I don't know what to expect from that room, does it have something to do with the investigation? What is full of stuffed animals from when she was little? What would make a girl her age embarrassed?  She slowly opens the door to that room, passing through first as if she wanted to check that everything is in order.     "Okay, come on in."     I go in fearful, but then I am surprised. It's… A totally normal room. Well, almost normal, because it almost seems like a museum full of frames with news instead of works of art.The room appears to be quite clean for a room where no one sleeps. The bed is small compared to the one I've seen in her room. A desk full of family photos. I'd like to take a closer look at them. It's quite... Lovely that she's shy about hiding this. So I inadvertently let out a small laugh.     "Is this what you were hiding?" I ask, approaching to read a newspaper clipping about a man with the same last name as MC who appeared in a photograph taken from afar, arresting someone.    "You said you wouldn't laugh" She reproaches, looking to the side.     "I'm not laughing," At least not making fun of her. I point to another piece of news. "They're all from the same man."     "Yes… While in my adolescence my friends had posters and photos of trips or friends hanging in their rooms, I had newspaper clippings of the person I admired the most" she approaches me looking at the newspaper clipping, with a strange smile "He was a great police inspector. And sometimes her daughter collaborated with him when he got stuck in understanding the behavior of some suspect" she laughs, but I notice her differently. Distant.    "And so began that girl's little detective life." I put a hand to my chin, giving her a curious look. No wonder she paid attention to little details.    "And as time went on, some of the police didn't like it, too many people wanted the inspector job. If the girl were to occupy that position, it would be quite unfair.” I notice how she clenches her hands tightly, now angry. "But they all came up against a problem that even she couldn't solve, so the jealous adults' taunts came from her and her insecurity appeared, causing her to prefer to dedicate herself to investigating stories. Something that her father didn’t like. He hated reporters ever since that cold case."    "What happened to the inspector?" I look at her, sympathetically "You speak of him in the past tense.”    She bites her lip and looks at me. I notice how she tries to hold back her tears.    “It was at Christmas. He and her daughter argued over a stupid article in the newspaper where she worked but she had nothing to do with it, because he thought it was some kind of revenge for those adults who laughed at her." She sighs, putting a hand to her head, more annoyed by the past than because she had asked. In that article they laughed at the police for being incompetent because you can see that they should never have lost their perfect assistant. She tried to reason with him, they were both stubborn. They left the party arguing" little by little she reduces her words, slowing down speaking "They continued arguing in the car. Her daughter was the one driving, getting more and more nervous.” she replies, her voice cracking "Finally there was an accident. He and his wife died. Luckily his daughter was saved. But…"    "She hasn't recovered yet" I try to dig a little, I feel like she's not talking about someone else. I can't force her to tell me.    "Yes, she recovered. It's just that sometimes she thinks about why they should have argued that day. Let's say that... She can't forgive herself for not having apologized to him... Nor that she got to see the truck on time because she preferred to continue yelling at him than to choose to look in the rear-view mirror... Some journalists thought that the police covered up that the daughter was drunk because she was the daughter of her partner" she whispers that last angrily. MC lets out a sigh and smiles. "I'm going to prepare the food, I'll leave you in charge of the last camera."     She heads for the door, but I stop her with my words.    "I don't think that girl should feel guilty." I look at her with a certain melancholy, understanding her. “Or at least… I think so…"     "I'll tell her when I sees her."      She leaves me alone in the room, ready to set up the cameras.   It is impossible not to read all the articles, in some they talk about a mysterious police assistant who helped the inspector. I guess it's in her genes. The photos are of the same man who must have been his wife and MC, at different stages of her life. In one of them, there is the man and MC showing just one of the articles where they talk about the mysterious assistant. Her father is smiling proudly and she seems happy. Seeing them makes me know more about her and makes me happy. By looking at it all, I completely unlock memories from my childhood. Even in that we are totally different, but... There was also a happy time in my life, although it lasted only a short time. To have someone to admire and from whom to learn.      "She has decided to open up to you… She hasn't told any of the group about this." I look at my hand. I tremble. MC has trusted me by telling me her story. Perhaps I should… I finish putting the last camera in and start to smell the food. My stomach growls. I almost always eat in restaurants or motels, a homemade meal? It had been years since anyone had prepared anything for me. MC must have been the person who had cared the most for me in a long time. I like it.     "The food is ready." She enters the room with a different attitude, more cheerful. “For the record, I don't use the kitchen very much, so I don't know how it turned out.”     "I'll take a shower and go out to eat." I grab the backpack and hang it on my shoulder. I have everything that I need in it.    "Oh! Do you want a towel? Do you use any special shampoo? I can go to sho-    “MC, I appreciate your concern, but I have everything I need right here.” I point to the backpack.     "Then give it to me!"     "What?”     "If you have dirty clothes, I can wash them."      I don't want to take advantage of her. I refuse by throwing my shoulder back, not wanting her to grab my backpack. And I don't mind washing my clothes in twenty-four-hour laundromats.     "Jake, you really shouldn't feel like you're taking advantage of me."   << You read my mind!>>     "Look, I put the washing machine in the clothes-"     "You mean the clothes in the washing machine" she corrects me.     Great, I can't even speak properly anymore.     "I put the clothes in the washing machine.” She puts a hand to her mouth, chuckling. Very funny, MC, making fun of "your grandfather". I finish drying my hair and sniff the air. The soap she had put on this morning was now used by me. How am I going to be able to go back into hiding after this? All our chats on the mobile, having met in person… How am I going to go back to having the life I had if I'm here with her now?     "Come on Jake! It's going to get cold! "      Her voice wakes me from my thoughts and calms me down. I must take advantage of the now, we will see the later. I see her set the table when I go out, the lighting makes all her features stand out. She has a nice smile, she looks happy... Is it really because of me?     “I could have helped you.” I walk over and she looks up, giving a small jump in surprise to hear me.     "No, you're my guest, I've already told you" she repeats.     "I'm not a guest," I replied, placing a hand on my hip, somewhat annoyed "let's just say I'm your guardian for the time being."    "Well, anyway, being my guardian, I have to take care of you." She forces me to sit down and pats the table "You will leave here as if you had been in the Hilton hotel."      I laugh at the serious expression on his face. But she doesn't change.     << Yes, she says it seriously. She will not leave me until I satisfied. >> ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- *MC POV* I watch Jake eat, waiting for him to say something, is it good? It lacks salt? Too much salt? I usually buy the pasta to microwave when I'm in a hurry, I cook very little, so I want to know if it's good... Maybe he doesn't like the sauce! I should have asked him first.     "They haven't cooked for me in years..." he says, his voice cracking.     "And is that good or bad?"    <<Maybe I shouldn't have asked. >> He remains thoughtful for a while, looking at the plate but without looking at it. Seeing beyond his thoughts.     "Pretty... well." I smile happily. I would hug him if it weren't for the fact that we're eating and it's not polite to do that…. And that may make Jake uncomfortable.     "But MC, don't you think you're trying too hard just for me?" He asks me and my heart breaks to pieces. I guess I went too far... But... I was so excited to have him here by my side...    “Sorry, I guess I overwhelmed you.” I reply, trying not to sound sad.     "You haven't." I look at him and I know he's telling the truth. I see him relaxed, something has happened. ”Looking at your photos, I remembered something. ”     "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."     He stops eating and crosses his arms, deciding whether or not to answer me. He sighs and scratches the back of his neck, wincing.     "I'm not used to just changing places to run away from the government." He begins to speak, I notice him more confident. "When I was little, my mom and I moved around quite a bit. We weren't flush with money to put it that way."    "Still, I'm sure she was one of those mothers who didn't want her son to lack anything.”     "Exactly," he lets out a small laugh at the memory. "She was even trying to get me a father. But all the guys that she knew weren't nice at all. It was the reason to move, they spent the rent money and again a new house, a new city, a new life." I push the plate away and lean against the table, looking at him. He doesn't seem nervous at all, on the contrary, talking about his mother seems like he likes it, how long has it been since he talked about her with someone?    "At twelve, she decided it was time I got a computer to keep up with my studies." His lip forms a smile. Jake's beginnings on a computer. "A normal computer was enough for me, I didn't need one that was so extravagant. So she asked the man in the store for a second-hand one" he said 'Man', not 'guy', that's a good thing. "He and my mother did not stop talking while I was there looking at them. It was the first time I saw my mother laugh like that. I liked him quite a bit."    “ ’Always stay with whoever makes you laugh, not cry’ " I recite, smiling at him "It was something my mother used to say. "     “Very wise.” He affirms my sentence. “So, they started dating. It was all perfect. I finally had something like a family.” His eyes sparkle. It looks even more beautiful. "So, when my mother got off work, you can imagine what that computer-savvy man was doing.”    "Look for adult content?" I joke, like the first time I answered him about what he could find in Hannah's files.     Jake arches an eyebrow, giving a little laugh. He had caught on right away.     “One fine day, he sat me down next to him, put an arm around my shoulders and said 'I'm going to teach you to have the digital world in your hands'. Imagine those words to a twelve-year-old, ‘He's going to teach me to be a hacker. I will be like a spy from the movies!‘ ” I laugh when he gestures and speaks as if he were twelve years old, remembering that moment.    "Little Jake's first beginnings?" I ask jokingly, imagining an excited young Jake looking at the computer screen.    “At first it was fun,” he continues narrating. ”But imagine when you want to make friends and you propose to hack the director's computer remotely so that every time he puts in his password, he has to listen to 'Never Gonna Give You Up'.”     "No…"     "Yes."     "I can't believe you."     "You wouldn't believe the punishment we got for the whole school because the guilty one didn't come out either," he blushes embarrassed and it makes me laugh to see him like that, so sincere "No class went down to the playground for three months. Although well, it wasn't a problem for me since I always stayed in the library practicing a little of what I was learning."     "Unbelievable, I have a juvenile delinquent in front of me," I exaggerate making him laugh.      His laughter is pleasant, sweet. I see that he even gets little crinkles in his eyes from laughing. I love knowing about Jake's past.     "Did your mother know it was you?"     "No, nothing at all." A mischievous smile escapes her. Oh… It looks good on him, he's attractive.     "And you... that man?" I don't know whether to call that man stepfather, so I left it as he himself named it.     "Of course," he crosses his arms, arching an eyebrow "it was the first thing he taught me and with the neighbor's computer. Every morning we woke him up with that song" we laugh again imagining the situation in our heads. Amazing that Jake was so naughty. "Yeah... Those were good times until that incident happened...“     His expression changes, all happiness had disappeared.    "At fourteen, he just disappeared," he continues much more slowly now. "My mother was very sad because she didn't know about him. She asked his companions, his family… Nobody knew anything, they reported him missing. Months later, they ended up finding him… But it wasn't a joy at all. My mother got sick. Do you know about those birds that if their partner dies, so does the other?" A lump forms in my throat.  Is tougher than I thought "I would have preferred that he really had run off with another…"    "You can stop." I grab his hand, knowing he needs support. "Jake, it wasn't your fault. Nothing about what happened. "     "As a result of that, I got too much into the world of hacking, investigating what had happened. I came across a long list of important people on his hard drive. It was hard to put it back together. "     "And you decided to continue with his work."     "Bad guys never sleep."      At least the man wasn't a criminal. Jake had a good reference and that's why he's so cautious. He knows what can happen if you run into the wrong people, what can happen if you're not careful.     “My mother wanted me to find my family” he continues, his gaze penetrating me “and that's why it's so important to me to find Hannah. I can't lose anyone else. “      Out of an impulse, I hug him. I want to break this distance between the two of us. I want him to know that he is not alone, that I’m with him. For now I'll wait until one day, he can break the next barrier. He ends up hugging me, tightly. It's a hug that neither of us had had for a long time.  And I'm glad for it. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- *Jake POV*  I offer to wash the dishes, preventing her from refusing. I had stopped her by placing a hand on her face pulling her away from me, while she moved her arms to catch them. She deserved my help for everything she did for me.  I was also relieved that I had told her about my past. It was a weight that had been lifted from me. The memory didn't hurt so much anymore.     "No, I won't be able to go" she leans on the furniture talking on the cell phone, while I finish washing her plate. I arch an eyebrow, curious "I have to take care of my grandfather, he's not feeling well."     "Wha-"     She raises her hand as if to tell me to keep quiet. MC is the one in charge in her house, I can't do anything.     "Yes... Yes," she nods as she answers the short words. "Okay, half my salary this month, I understand.” I almost dropped the glass when I heard it, what does it do?     "Tomorrow I'll go and buy the coffee," she says resignedly. The delivery girl again. "Goodbye...” she hangs up and she looks at me, placing her hands on her hips “I'm staying here with you.“     "MC-"     "No."     "You don't have to-"     "Ssshhh." she jokingly places a finger in my mouth to make me shut up. I furrowed my brows. "Don't worry, I don't mind if they take away half, my dear grandfather is much more important at this moment and I shouldn't leave him alone.”      I stopped scrubbing, continuing to glare at her slightly.     "You're not going to change your mind even if I refuse, are you?" I lean against the sink, looking at her with disapproval.     She smirks playing with the mobile in her hands, then she pats me on my shoulder.     "Tonight we have a movie session, so get ready."     "MC, I can't just go out like that.”     "Who said we're going out?” Her expression is full of happiness. My heart beats too fast to see her "You can put on your hacker stuff while I look for something to entertain us with tonight to laugh, drama over for today."      I give up. I am too weak with her. I spend the afternoon setting up the cameras from a distance, seeing if they work well.Although I promised that she would not appear on cameras, she does appear in one preparing the room for tonight. Dancing. She's wearing headphones. I turn the volume up a little so I can hear it. She can hardly sing because she can't stop laughing at how happy she is. They are completely ridiculous and meaningless steps, but she feels happy. I watch as she picks up the television remote and uses it as a microphone. I lets out a laugh. How bad she does. And yet, I like it.     "Never show up to a singing contest, MC" I joked, switching cameras, checking the next one. It definitely was movie night. There was a large bowl of popcorn on the coffee table and some drinks.MC looks at me proud of her work after having placed cushions on the floor as a bed.    "What is all this?" I ask, avoiding laughing.    "Well, I want to give you a night that you can't forget," she walks closer to me, with her arms behind her back. "And like I said, let's see something to laugh about. You're gonna find out my dark teenage secret."    "What kind of movie are you going to put me?”     "This one." She pulls out the entire 'The Twilight Saga' collection and I groan.     "I can't believe it…"     She laughs preparing the first film. I sit on the floor pouting. Where is the government chasing you when you need it?   I don't get it… I just don't get it, was this what teenage girls liked?     "Please tell me you didn't like Edward when you were a teenager…" I begged her, taking a popcorn.     "Well… I wasn't on 'Team Edward' for nothing." I know she's kidding. I have her well covered.    "I just don't get it." I point at the screen, almost disgusted. "This guy tells her to stay away from him. He stays away from her for a while because he tells her he's dangerous. Then he approaches her. He interrupts her intimacy to see her sleep. In the second movie he leaves her when he hasn't even done anything wrong. But when he finds everything fixed, as if he hadn't even hurt her by leaving her, what kind of teenager dreams of this? "    MC looks at me for a moment, then looks away blushing.    "My goodness, I think I have a type…" I hear her whisper.     I look at her confused, not understanding. Got it, there are still things that I don't know about her behavior or what she says. Either that or I'm really getting old for not understanding her. MC ends up asleep, laying her head on my lap.I forget the movie entirely to watch her sleep. I lift my hand, wanting to move it away from me and into a better position, but she settles even more into my lap. I sigh, looking at her peaceful face. Instead of pulling her away, I wrap the blanket around her better and decide to caress her cheek gently. Smile. This is fine… isn't it? This feeling of peace and not feeling persecuted… It's what I want. But not just for me. I will do my best so that MC can take her life back when all this is over. I swear. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- *MC POV* I wake up with the sun bothering my face. Something missing here.     "Jake?” I sit up, rubbing my eyes.      I’m alone in the living room and everything is tidy.A feeling of loneliness washes over me completely. Has he already left?     "Has he left without saying goodbye?” I ask myself, covering myself with the blanket. <<No… He wouldn't… right? >>      With resignation I get up from the ground, sad. I would have liked so much to say goodbye. I decide to go to my room to get ready for another day at work. Well, it was fun while it lasted. I open the door and my eyes go wide as I see a dark figure sitting in my chair.     "Good morning, MC," Jake turns and greets me, the computer screen displaying the different areas of the house. "I didn't want to wake you up, so I came here to work. "      I avoid jumping to hug him because he hasn't left. I want to keep my composure and don't think he has upset me.    "Did I fall asleep?” I ask embarrassed.     "Just a little" he lets out a soft, pleasant laugh in my ear.     "And I wanted to have fun watching movies with you... "     "About the movie... I saw it all" he blushes, as if he's embarrassed that I knows.     "And you liked it?”     "No" I laugh. "But I didn't saw much the fourth and I don't like to leave things unfinished.”     "How come you didn't saw it if you were awake?"     "There was... Something else much more interesting." he turns back to the computer. Even though he doesn't see me, I give his a small smile. "You should hurry up and prepare yourself, you don't want to be late.”     The work! If I'm late, they'll be even angrier. I grab everything I need in a hurry, making a lot of noise in the room. Sorry Jake!     "Another thing" I stop to look at him when he catches my eye, he turns back to face me "I'm leaving tonight."     "Oh…okay." I unintentionally sound sad. Shit…     "After dinner." I can see a gleam of excitement in his eyes for having said it. My heart is beating fast “I wouldn't want to leave without saying goodbye… And I don't want you to worry if I leave without eating something. "     Wait a minute... This one wants me to make him dinner. In the end, he decided me to taking care of him, huh?    "Then I'll think of something you can take with you later in case you get hungry the next day," I say, closing the closet, with all the clothes ready, "You'll see! A banquet worthy of a farewell. "    "I don't need much either."    "I told you: LIKE THE HILTON HOTEL!" I exclaim aloud, so that he stops denying himself.      He rolls his eyes, then shrugs in surrender to me. We laughed at the same time, creating quite a cozy atmosphere for me. Chapter 4