#this is so long but i swear what i feel right now is beyond description

[torrtimandi]

My first Justice show... July 11, 2024. Les Déferlantes, France.

That day didn't start so great. On my way to the festival I got stuck in a terrible traffic jam because of a truck fire. I spent more than an hour in the middle of the French highway in the hellish heat of the south, which obviously pissed me off. Here I am traveling to another country to see my favorite band for the first time ever and suddenly some damn accident is going to prevent it when I'm so close?! Well, obviously I was overreacting at that point, we still had plenty of time to get there, my friend reassured me it's gonna be okay but the doubt of getting close to the stage was pretty high, and that's what I'd counted for from the beginning. The front row.

Soon the traffic was moving again and we arrived at the festival about an hour before Justice. Another band was still playing and my friend and I started to smoothly sneak through the crowd to get closer to the stage. There were a lot of fans of this band, Sum 41, around us, which was a good sign that the crowd would thin out as soon as they finished playing. And that's exactly what happened. The show ended, a lot of people left and suddenly the dream of being in the front row became a very reality...

From then on, the excitement was off the charts. Everyone here can guess how fucking crazy I am about Justice, and my friend @/lesreptiles, who was with me, is as crazy as I am, if not more so. Of course we grinned, we laughed a lot, commented on every detail of the stage and screamed when we saw Gaspard's mop of curly hair behind the stage a few minutes before the show started.

But the real excitement and madness was just about to begin... As soon as the first notes of the intro played, we went into a trance. We screamed, we shouted, we sang, we danced, we jumped the hell out of it. Sometimes it feels like Gaspard and Xavier are barely visible because of all the lights, but the truth is that they see the crowd very well and they always judge their performance by the crowd's reaction, and that's what I kept in mind. I just wanted to show them how fucking much I love their show and their music, how deeply it's rooted in my heart that I was able to sing every fucking line, that I knew every single played note. And I like to think they liked the sight of it, because sometimes it seemed like Gaspard was staring right at me and my crazy friend, sometimes even smiling...

The very end was just as crazy as the show. Of course it was sad to see the guys already finish such a wonderful show that seemed to go by too fast, but at least they always make sure to say goodbye properly. As always, they walked to the front of the stage, waved hands, bowed and walked down to the crowd. At that moment I managed to touch Gaspard's soft hand... I also quickly took out my Hyperdrama CD, which I'd brought along just in case. I think Gaspard would've almost missed it, but one of the security guys actually pointed at me and so Gaspard turned to me again, took my album and pen and nonchalantly took off the cap of the pen with his fucking teeth right in front of me, holy fucking shit, oh jesus... And just signed it and handed it me back. I yelled merci, which I doubt he heard, and grinned and looked with disbelief at my friend, who also managed to snap a quick selfie with Gaspard. Then Xavier finally came to our part of the row and I successfully tried to get his signature as well. He came over, signed Hyperdrama and that was it. I was officially dead. Not only did I manage to get a signed album, I was actually the one who got their signatures and that's the most important and precious part, that's what I'll keep in my memory probably forever.

Then they just came back on stage, they hugged each other very nicely, Xavier pointed at Gaspard, they waved their hands and bowed some more and that was it. The real end... I'm not even sure if anyone will read all of this, this review is getting quite wordy at this point, but I just wanted to share all of my huge emotions and feelings that I'm so grateful to have experienced. Justice means a whole lot to me, my blog and my writing shows that a little bit, and it was my very first time seeing them. My first time in France, my first concert here, my first Ed Rec act show etc etc, just a lot of firsts that I'm sure I'll remember for a long time and I'm sure I'll grin just as much while remembering it as I did during the whole live show that was truly an amazing and mind-blowing feast, both visually and sonically.

Thank you for reading it and most of all thank you to my dear friend who accompanied me last night. Me coming here, seeing Justice and having a front row wouldn't have been possible without you. Truly the best concert buddy right there!

[angel-eyes05]

to leave the warmest bed i've ever known (part 2)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

pairing: spider-woman!reader x miguel o’hara 

summary: life on the run is not for the weak. you're reminded of this once you run into someone you haven't seen in a while

warnings: a lot of angst (there'll be fluff and smut soon i swear i just feel like writing angst right now lmao), HUGE ATSV SPOILERS DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THIS MOVIE, mentions and descriptions of blood and injuries, this is so against canon its insane

word count: 2.2k

notes: ok so i changed my mind, miguel and the reader arent gonna make up just yet🤭. trust me when they do it'll be worth it lmao. im gonna need everyone to suspend their belief for the next chapters cause im kind of just making up the plot to beyond the spider-verse at this point for this silly little fic so just go with it

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God, this was very quickly turning out to be a very bad decision. The movies made being on the run seem a lot easier than this. What they had failed to include was how easily it was to get ambushed by Spider-Society members while hopping between the dimensions looking for Miles. Your little group basically had to hop through a bunch of different dimensions within a week and look for him there, then leave before HQ managed to track you guys down. You’re not sure how much time has passed since you left. Maybe a few weeks. Maybe a few months. The passage of time was pretty weird when you were constantly hopping through the fabric of space and time. All you knew is that your eyes had naturally dulled out the neon orange light that shined from the portals you were constantly jumping through. Luckily, none of your team had been caught yet. There had been a few close calls, but only two of those led to severe injuries, one of them being Gwen, and the other time being you.

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You and your team had been ambushed due to a malfunction with the portal opening. Each of you were put with your own variant to fight. Just to your luck, you were confronted by Jess. She looked awful to be honest. Stressed. She was probably put on finding you and your team while Miguel endlessly searched for Miles. This little wild goose chase had tired her out. Part of you felt bad. But that was very quickly overcome by the feeling of betrayal growing in your chest. You had a feeling she felt a similar way. “Please don’t make me do this. Just let me take you home,” she said weakly. Home. That’s right. That's basically what HQ had been to you before. You hadn’t been back to your Earth in five years, ever since Miguel caught you on the top of that building. Jessica was your first friend there. She had shown you the ropes to everything, been there for you during your lowest moments, and guided you to your highest ones. And now you had to repay her by sending her back to Miguel in a bloody pulp. You hated that this is how things had to go. But such was life for someone like you. “I have no home anymore,” you said at her monotonically before charging at her with your fists first. She’s quick to react, using one of her webs to swing away. It’s clear she doesn’t want to hurt you, each of her movements swift to defend herself, but never going on the offensive side. She could easily take you down if she wanted to. She had been doing this longer than you had and was more skilled than you too. She was going easy on you, desperately trying to show you she didn’t want to fight. But you didn’t care. You had put too much on the line to start to give up now.

The others had taken down their foes long before you had finished with Jess. You could see Gwen running up to you out of the corner of your eye, Ben tied up in a web behind her. You webbed her to the floor before she could get closer to the struggle you and Jess were currently in. You gave Gwen a quick, reassuring nod that she returned before running off to find the others. Once Gwen was out of sight, you quickly attached a web to Jess’ face, and pulled it down into your knee, knocking her glasses off her face and shattering on the floor. With her off her balance, you took the opportunity to try to knock her out. You slammed your fists into her face, one after the other, releasing all of the stress that had accumulated in your body over the past couple of months into her cheeks. You couldn’t see the damage you were doing, blinded by rage and betrayal and your fists blocking out her face. The only thing you could see was the blood splattering off of her face onto yours. You felt a voice in the back of your head begging you to stop. You desperately wanted to, but you had lost control of your body. Jess wasn’t the real person you wanted to hurt here, you already knew who that was. But she was the closest thing you could get to him right now. And if you were being honest with yourself, she wasn’t completely innocent to you either.

In her last desperate attempt to save herself, Jess shoved her forearm in the way of your balled up knuckles, grabbed a piece of shattered glass from her broken frames, and shoved it deep into your chest. Your reign of fury on her face suddenly stopped as pain quickly snapped through your body. You quickly fell to your knees, partially out of shock, and looked down to see the blood spilling out of your chest. As Jess dropped to her knees as well, you could finally get a gauge of the damage you’ve done. You couldn’t tell if the blood loss was making you see things, but her nose looked almost crooked, a dark cut slicing through the middle of it and blood pouring out of both nostrils. Both of her eyes were swollen, not entirely shut but on their way there. You looked down at your hands, the skin on your knuckles broken off and bleeding through the fabric of your suit, blending in with its natural red. They were trembling with a mixture of faded anger and new guilt. I never wanted to hurt her, you kept repeating to yourself in your head, as if it was going to make any difference. Maybe if you thought it hard enough, it would erase your actions. You suddenly flinched when you felt Jessica’s hand cupping your face. You looked up at her, mouth agape. Her soft thumb brushed your face as she stared lovingly at your face. So she did know. That made you feel a little less stupid when you broke down in front of her then and there. You just felt awful. Jess was your friend. Your best friend probably. And look at what you’ve done to her. You couldn’t understand how she managed to still be so soft with you, despite how much you’ve just mutilated her face. 

It was ever harder for you to understand how quickly she enveloped you as soon as she saw the tears begin to streak her face. You didn’t deserve this. You should run away. You need to run away. You’re currently bleeding out, and you’re just sitting here, sobbing into the crook of her neck. She’s probably just stalling for time and holding you here until help comes for her. But the longer you sat here the longer you realized…this was just her. It was only Jess here. No help was coming. Jess just wanted to hold you again one last time before letting you run away again. Once you pulled away from her, she wiped away your tears. “Don’t let me catch you,” she whispered into your ear. It was a reminder to you that while she was still holding onto her beliefs, that didn’t mean she ever stopped caring for you. She helped to push you up off of the ground, her hands now covered in your blood. You began to walk away out of  the dark alley to look for the others. Before leaving entirely, you turned around to look at Jess, still laying there. “I’ll find you once this is all over. So don’t you dare die on me, okay?” you shouted at her. She gave a simple nod in return, watching as you stumbled out of alley way. While you made the ultimate decision to let her live that day, you still had anger boiling up in your body. Somebody had to pay for all of this. All of this chaos that was about to unleash itself onto the multiverse. And you know exactly who did. And you didn’t intend to show him the same mercy you showed Jess. No. This was a job you intended to finish. 

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Thankfully, your chest laceration healed up quicker than expected, allowing you and your teammates to get back on track. Images of your encounter with Jess replayed through your mind for the next couple of weeks. The only other person you told about the details of your brutalization of Jess was Peter B., knowing he would understand with all the hard decisions he’s had to make himself. Gwen and Hobie had also noticed that you were acting a little bit off, but you avoided the subject every time they would bring it up. 

Suddenly though, it was happening. The moment you and your team had anticipated for the past couple of weeks. You were awoken by the bright glow of three orange portals opening up, three Spider-Men in each. Your team sprang awake and began to make a run for it. It was no use though, as one by one, each member of your team was separated by a different group of variants, until it was just you, Gwen, and Peter running. While you were running, you felt a hand yank at the hair on the back of your head. You quickly turned around and found Ben Reilly as the culprit. You didn’t hesitate to jump into the air and kick his face, pushing him off of you and onto the floor. As the three of you kept running, your attention was suddenly caught by something else. “Keep your hands off her! That one’s mine!” you heard the familiar voice call out to Ben. A chill went down your spine, as the three of you stopped dead in your tracks. You did it. You finally managed to lure the bat out of his cave. Before you could turn around and find the face that belonged to that deep, alluring voice, you were caught off guard as you felt a body dive into your stomach at full speed, knocking all of the air out of you lungs. The pure force of the dive pushed you and the figure into the brick wall of an abandoned building, crashing into the structure. 

Vision and hearing fuzzy from the impact, you heard Gwen scream out your name and begin to start running to you, before her and Peter B. get swept up by their own variants to take care of. Your head throbs in pain as you look around the building, feeling a huge weight on your chest. You look down at the rest of your body to find what’s weighing you down so much. And it’s him. Miguel’s massive body laying on top of you, his head dug into your stomach and arms wrapped around your waist from the dive. You were partially in shock. First of all, from the fact that your first interaction with him in months is him attempting to kill you (although it’d be a lie to say you weren’t thinking similar things). Second, you were still reeling from the blow. And third, the most shocking of all, was that this was arousing you in some way. Despite how much anger you were feeling towards him right now, you still managed to get butterflies in your stomach from how much of him was on top of you right now. He basically enveloped all of the lower half of your body. 

Shame and anger filled your body fast as you tried to push him off of you, any attempts in vain though due to how massive he was. He helped you though when he began to stand up, allowing you to get yourself up and dive through his legs as an escape. Just as you made your attempt to run out of the hole in the wall, away from a fight you know you couldn’t win, Miguel’s giant hand wrapped around your forearm. He pulled your body back to face him and slammed his massive fist into your face. Blood spurted out of your nose purely from the impact and you were nearly knocked onto the floor. You grabbed your nose in reaction and looked up at him towering over you, unable to make out his expression from his mask. “You must’ve been thinking about this encounter for a while. Have you been thinking about me, Miggy?” you quipped at him. Usually you spoke playfully with him whenever you were in a good mood with him, but this time it was your one desperate attempt to push down any feelings that would get in the way of you doing what needed to be done. “Don’t feel so flattered cariño. Whatever happens here isn’t personal,” he said in that deep, flirty tone you always found so sexy. But right now all it did was piss you off even more. “Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better,” you said, dropping the slight smirk you had on your face. Taking action right away, you charged right at him, ready to do it right this time. You just wished he had his mask off so you could look him dead straight in his crimson eyes as you killed him.

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NEXT CHAPTER

a/n: i had night shift by lucy dacus on loop while writing the fight with jessica....thats all ill say on the matter. also sorry miguel's barely in this chapter i need to set up plot and shit. ALSO I JUST WANNA PREFACE, MY FIC TAKES PLACE A COUPLE OF MONTHS AFTER ACROSS THE SPIDERVERSE SO JESS HAD ALREADY GIVEN BIRTH. I SWEAR Y/N DID NOT JUST BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF A PREGNANT LADY💀💀💀

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[eddiemunsonsbedroom]

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Summary: After months of dancing around your feelings with Joel, it comes to a head. And his reason for avoiding you comes as a surprise.

Warnings: MDNI 18+; suggestive content, no actual smut (yet?), potential for part two, which would be afab reader, since that’s all I can really do justice/know first hand, but no descriptive qualities as far as looks. Jackson era, swearing, age gap (32 and 56). Let me know if I missed any.

A/N: Be gentle on me- I haven’t written much and not in SO long. And none for Joel.

Also rapidly realizing that despite taking so many honors English classes in HS and college, I really know fuck all about correct paragraph format and present/past tense, omfg.

Lemme know if you want the smut and I’ll make a part two lmao.

Joel is avoiding you.

You know it. He knows it.

And you know why.

You’ve been dancing around each other for days now. Ever since all of the lingering glances and brushing of arms came to a head and you grabbed his thigh in the shadows of the Tipsy Bison. Encouraged by his low lids and your even lower whiskey glasses.

He stopped breathing, and when he realized himself, he jumped like he’d been burned. Muttering some excuse before darting from the bar.

You weren’t sure whether to laugh or to be embarrassed. But why be embarrassed when you knew how he actually felt? You could see it every time he looked at you with those dark eyes. Did he think he was being sly?

Months of the spindly fingers of your dry humor and wit, selflessness and competency that he so admired, worming its way through the splintering cracks of his walls until, without him even noticing, they shattered completely.

But you were too fucking young. He could’ve been your dad, for fuck’s sake.

You couldn’t have been more than your early thirties, at most. He was afraid to ask. At 56, he had no business looking at you in any form other than just his patrol partner. At most- a friend.

But fuck, it had been so long. Maybe that’s all it was, right? But even with Tess, he’d never felt like this. That was friendship- the sex just a means to an end- a way to escape. With you… he knew it went beyond just physical attraction. If he said it didn’t, he’d just be lying to himself. It was all of you.

It wasn’t his fault that he liked when you shot a clicker in the head without even an afterthought. Or that you could put someone in their place while being respectful at the same time. That you could teach him new things without making him feel like a stupid old man.

It wasn’t his fault that you could catch him off guard and make him laugh like he hasn’t in years. Or that your eyes sparkling in the Tipsy Bison twinkle lights made him stop breathing. And it definitely wasn’t his fault that he had to practically run from you so your wandering hand didn’t feel his thickening hard-on that came out of nowhere, like he was a fucking teenager.

It wasn’t your fault that he felt this way about you. But he had to be the one to stop it. Pretend like it never happened.

Which obviously you wouldn’t stand for. He should’ve known better.

As soon as you saw your name next to someone else’s on the patrol schedule for the following day, you decided that enough was enough. You gave him a few days to sort his shit out. It was time to give him a piece of your fucking mind.

———

Walking to Joel’s house was easy. Unfortunately for him, you were neighbors. Fortunately for him, you left your knives at home. You were fantasizing about stabbing him at this point.

Passing by Ellie’s lit up apartment you were relieved that she wouldn’t have to bear witness to your rapidly growing annoyance. It was beginning to fester into self doubt. Because fuck, what if you imagined how he felt and you basically assaulted him in public? Except you know that’s not the case. Right?

As soon as Joel opens the door you’re pushing past him into the kitchen.

It looks like he hasn’t done a dish in days. Flannels taken off after a long day strewn over the backs of dining chairs. Crumbs on the counter.

“Jesus, Joel, crack a window. What’s going on in here?”

Sighing your name, he rounds the corner after you. “Is there a reason you barged into my house?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’ve been avoiding me,” you huff, leaning against his counter.

“Dunno what you’re talkin’ about,” he averts his eyes, deciding that now is the time to tidy his kitchen.

“Don’t bullshit me, Joel.”

“‘m not,” he sighs, filling the sink with warm water.

“Yeah? Then why is now the time to do the dishes that have been sitting there for three days?”

Fuck. He knows you’re not going to let this go, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try to avoid the topic for as long as possible.

“Joel, did I make you uncomfortable?”

His head snaps up, “what?”

That, unfortunately, was the furthest thing from the truth. He wishes it was so he could gently let you down and have you be on your way. Go back to the way things were before, before he knew what he was missing. Before he got addicted to you and you consumed his every waking thought.

“When I… touched you. In the bar,” you falter, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Second guessing everything. Because what if that’s actually what this was?

He decides to get it over with before this becomes any more unbearable.

“Christ. No, I wasn’t uncomfortable. That was the problem,” he grits out.

“I fucking knew it! I fucking. Knew it!”

“Listen-“

“No, you listen. I don’t know what your deal is. I get that we’ve both been through some fucked up shit in the last twenty years, and maybe that’s a huge reason for why you’re so closed off. Denying yourself something that you obviously want-“

He starts to cut you off, saying your name in a stern whisper, but you don’t let him.

“Let me finish.” Surprisingly, he lets you continue, a war waging in his eyes.

“I’m not asking you to marry me, Joel. I’m asking you to just be fucking honest with me. It doesn’t have to be anything serious. It doesn’t have to be anything at all. But I know you feel something for me.”

He’s gripping the counter so hard that his knuckles are turning white. His jaw ticks as he looks down into the sink, watching the little soap bubbles burst until he collects his thoughts enough to speak. You don’t realize that you’re holding your breath until he starts talking.

“I don’t… I don’t know what to do with this. I’m too-“

“Stubborn?” You suggest, despite yourself.

“Old,” he forces out.

Your eyebrows shoot into your hairline, because that is not at all what you were expecting him to say.

“What?”

He lets out a humorless laugh. “I’m 56. I’m way too old for you, sweetheart.”

You clench at the nickname despite wanting to throttle him. “I’m 32. Not 13.”

He groans. “Not helping.”

You lean away from the counter. “I thought you were avoiding this because you were like…” you flail your hands, trying to find the words, “emotionally fucked up, or something.”

He snorts, despite how flustered he feels at admitting his insecurities. “I probably am. But that’s not the point.”

“I’m a grown ass woman. We met as two grown ass adults, Joel. What are you afraid of?”

He clenches his jaw. He can’t meet your eyes.

You press on. “Are you worried about what society thinks? There’s an apocalypse, if you haven’t noticed. I don’t give a shit what Mrs. Johnson down the street thinks. She’s an asshole anyway-“

“Darlin’-“

“No. What’s the point in surviving if you stopped really living twenty years ago? You’re not dead. You deserve to do what makes you feel alive.”

He drags his eyes up to yours, leaning up from the sink. You think he might touch you, but he only faces you. Hesitant.

“Doesn’t bother you that I’m old?” He rasps, eyes low, inching closer. “Hm?”

“I think it’s kind of hot,” you say, smirking.

You shyly smile at each other. Letting it settle.

“We only live once, Joel,” you whisper. “I don’t want to be on my death bed thinking, ‘damn, I really wished I’d fucked that old man’.”

He barks a single surprised laugh at that, throwing his head back.

And you think he’s never looked so beautiful.

[iikeuz]

⋆ ☄︎. ·˚ * 🔭 STARRY EYES SPARKING UP ME DARKEST NIGHTS ࿐

⊹ ݁ ִ  ۫ You have a panic attack while promoting your solo and Seungmin helps you through it.

★☆! pairing: idol!seungmin x idol!fem!reader

★☆! warnings: descriptions of panic attacks & social anxiety. reader is a bit apprehensive about seungmin initially. mentions of criminal minds(?). mentions of hate / cyber bullying. very fluffy. open ending (part two?????)

★☆! word count: 2.4k

vivi speaks !! the way i started working on this in december of 2022 😭😭 but i’ve finally finished it, so who cares. let me know if u guys want a part 2 :), maybe i can finish it before i finish college hehe.

It’s bad. 

Like truly bad. 

This is not your first time at such event. Having debuted a while ago, you slowly got used to award shows, especially with the help of your members who are always there for you. 

Maybe that’s the issue.

You never had to make an acceptance speech, never had to be the center of attention, always letting your members take care of that — they’ve always gone above and beyond to make you comfortable during these events anyways. So now that you’re alone for the first time in what feels like ages, you simply don’t know what to do.

The anxiety mixed with the fear of embarrassing yourself in front of everyone was what led you to your current situation. Alone in a dark hallway you bite your lips as strongly as you can to stop the tears from falling and ruining your makeup — you still have to perform after all. Your head is so fuzzy that, even though you’re sitting down, you feel like you’re about to fall at any given moment, and you swear you can feel your skeleton shaking inside of you.

Your palms are sweating, but the sensation you have is that all blood stopped running in your veins. Your breath is erratic and the oxygen burns your lungs, your heart beating so fast you can feel it hitting against your rib cages, the blood running through your ears louder than your thoughts. 

As we established earlier, things are not looking good for you right now. 

You don’t even know how long you’ve been there — it could be minutes, seconds, hours. At your current state of mind, years could’ve passed and you wouldn't have noticed a change in the weather.

As matter of fact, you didn’t even notice the hallway lights turning on, let alone the person that lit them.

“Oh shit!” They cursed lowly, taken by surprise by the zombie-like girl sitting on the floor.

While they cautiously scan the body in search of any sign of life, your eyes finally pick up on the sudden clarity. Shooting your head up at an incredible speed, your eyes meet with a slightly scared Kim Seungmin.

Your slowler-than-usual brain takes a moment to kick in, finally warning you that you should get your shit together — especially in front of your senior —, and so you do, getting up way faster than expected. Your vision goes completely black for a second or two, making you bow lower than intended.

“Hello.” You greet him, your vision still not completely back as your upper body goes up once again. 

Trying to find some kind of stability, you reach for the nearest wall to lean against. Scared that you might fall and hurt yourself, Seungmin runs to you, firmly grabbing both your shoulders before pulling your waist, stabilizing your dizzy self against his chest. 

In any other scenario you would probably push him away and call him a creep, but now you reserve yourself to accept the help without second guessing his true intentions. 

“Woah! Calm down,” His voice is still low, not much higher than a whisper, “Are you okay? Do you need something?”

Once your vision goes back to normal you separate yourself from the boy, who reluctantly lets you go, not leaving too much space between the two of you just in case. 

Averting his gaze, you try to fix your eye makeup to look a little more presentable. “Yeah, yeah. I, uh, I just-” You stop yourself for a moment, your brain cells working extra-hour to come up with something to say. A pathetic “I’m fine,” is the best you can manage to do.

“You don’t seem fine to me.”

“Well, you’re wrong. I am fine.” You immediately bite back, sounding way more defensive than intended, instant regret kicking in for being such a bitch to someone who was just trying to help. “i’m sorry…” you whisper.

Seungmin, on the other hand, didn’t seem offended one bit by your hostility, no. He was way more focused on finding out what was going on. 

Trying to make you feel more comfortable, he was quick to change the subject. “Aren’t you, uh…” He stops, waiting for you to introduce yourself to him.

As your foggy mind goes into autopilot once again, you bow for a second time, formally introducing yourself and your group for him. 

Seungmin can’t help but chuckle at your excess of formality. “There is no need for all of this, we’re basically the same age.” 

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” 

And so, the small talk dies silent. 

You force yourself to come up with something to say, but nothing comes to mind. What are you even supposed to say in a moment like this? It’s not like the two of you had ever talked before. Yeah, some of your members are close to the Stray Kids’ boys, it’s true, but you personally never really talked to anyone outside your own label — screw it, you’ve barely talked to anyone outside your own group. 

As if the situation couldn’t get any worse, your palms start to sweat again, the fear of having another panic attack in front of Seungmin becoming a trigger to you. Sharp nails scratching against the skin of your thumb.

The boy picks up quickly on what’s happening, bringing your attention to him once again. “Hey,” He straightened himself, taking a couple steps past you, near the end of the corridor, “wanna see something cool?”

Not wanting to be rude, you nod. And so he kept going, with you right behind him (well, not exactly right behind, since there was so much your trembling legs could do right now; still, you felt like you weren’t going that slow — even though it took you 30 extra seconds to get to the end of that 2 meters corridor).  

When you got there, you noticed that there was only a big metal door with a handwritten ‘Authorized People Only’ sign taped to it. You were about to ask him if this was the right place when Seungmin opened said door.

“No one comes here, don’t worry.” He explained.

Holding the door with one arm, he motions for you to go in. 

Obviously, if you were in your right mind, this whole thing would be the biggest red flag ever (a man you don’t know being weirdly touchy with you and then inviting you to go to a secluded area where “no one goes to”? You’ve watched way too many real crime videos to fall for that), but since you’re not in the best of your judgment at the moment, you obey his orders without thinking twice. 

Your friends know him, what’s the worst that can happen? 

Looking around a bit, you couldn’t be less interested. The room seemed like a technical room, filled with tangled wires connected to some sort of power walls. Is this Seungmin’s definition of a “cool place”? If so, that’s pretty anticlimactic.  

“What is this place?” You ask as the door behind you closes by itself, making a heavy sound, the room immediately becoming pitch black.

Seungmin turns on his flashlight, the position making the bright light hit you right in the eyes; you wince in discomfort, covering your face. “Sorry,” He repositions the cellphone, pointing to the floor instead of your face, “This is just a wire room, for some lights and special effects,” He shrugs, moving the cellphone around like he searched for something. 

“Hmm,” You nod, looking around once again. “So… what are we doing here?” 

“Oh, this is not the cool place, silly,” He laughs. Pointing the flashlight to his right, you follow the light’s path, surprised as you notice the emergency stair at the wall, “it’s up there.” 

Seungmin gets closer to the stairs, you follow him. He takes a moment to decide if it was better for you or him to climb first, opting to have you staring at his ass instead of the contrary. And so he puts his cellphone in his pocket and goes, as you blindly follow him once again, struggling to climb in your stage outfit. 

At the top, he pushes the trapdoor open and climbs in, helping you to do the same. Once you stabilize your boots on the floor, you take a moment to look around. You’re at the rooftop, as you expected. The cold air of the early winter hits you like a train, making you hug yourself by instinct as shivers run through your body, the tiny, sleeveless dress you’re using doing absolutely nothing to help. Looking up at the sky you can actually see a couple stars here and there. 

“Wow! It’s beautiful,” You say under your breath. 

Seungmin, who was already looking at you, can’t help but notice how your eyes shine just as bright as the stars. Taking his denim jacket off he places it on your shoulders, using the proximity to guide you closer to the edge. Looking down, you can barely see the people walking on the streets, they all look so tiny from here, like the world below you is just a model; a colony of ants.

So tiny, so delicate.

It really makes you wonder how such delicate species can be so mean. So terrifying. So heartless. The things you’ve seen, you’ve read, you’ve heard; they couldn’t possibly have come from them, could it? After what felt like a life of being submitted to so much inhumanity, you start to question what “being a human” truly means. 

If it’s the ability to feel empathy for others that separates us from the other species, what will be left of us if it’s all gone?

When your grip on the metal bar tightens, Seungmin decides it is time to intervene. “I was listening to your song on my way here,” Seungmin admits, “well, it was Felix who put in on the car’s speaker, but you know. I really liked it.”

Your head spins at him, your gazes meeting for a second before you avert it. “Oh, uh, thanks. It was my first time writing- I mean, not my first time, I’ve written things before, but I never felt like it was good enough. I always thought I was better at composing rather than writing, you know?! But this time it was just… I don’t know. I had this idea in my mind, and the words kept coming so I wrote them down and, well, the rest is history.” You shrug, beating yourself mentally for talking too much. 

“I really like your writing style. It’s very unique, just like you.” His attempt at flirting makes you laugh for the first time that night, and when Seungmin hears your shy giggles turn into a full laugh, he can’t help but laugh too. “Yah, why are you laughing?!” He pretended to be offended. 

“You’re so corny.”

“I’m not corny, I’m romantic.”

Romantic? You can’t lie, that pulled at your heart strings a bit. 

Still, you roll your eyes at him, trying to convey annoyance, your smiley face totally giving you away, “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Romeo.”

“Oh c’mon, it was pretty smooth, at least give me that!”

“Alright, alright. It was pretty smooth, I admit,” You threw your hands in the air, defeated. 

You turned around in your heels, back pressed against the railing. “So, how’d you find out about this place?!” 

“I’m just nosy.” He shrugged. 

“Oh yeah, I believe that.” 

Seungmin scoffed. “I saw the ‘authorized people only’ sign and came in.” 

“You were coming here when you… found me?” 

“Yes.”

“Any reason why..?” 

“You’re also very nosy, aren’t you missy?!” 

You laugh, giving the boy besides you a playful slap.

Seungmin laughed too, averting his gaze, “I just like coming here before a performance. Helps unwind the tension. It’s kind of a ritual of mine at this point.” 

You nodded. This time, the silence that formed between you two was comfortable. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to feel the moment, without worrying so much about, well, everything. 

Seungmin didn’t say anything either. 

You two stayed like this for a while, just enjoying the cold breeze hitting you two. You wondered if he was cold like you, and you even thought of offering his jacket back, but it was just so warm (and it smelled so good). 

After a minute or two (more like several), you opened your eyes again, lookin at your side where Seungmin stood. He leaned over the rails, hands clasped together as he looked up at the sky. 

There were no direct lights up here, so it was up to the moon to provide some light for you two. As you look at Seungmin, you notice the way his eyes reflect the moonlight. It was like he held a moon in each of his pupils, only for him, like some sort of mystical being. A kind of God who has moons for eyes and the kindest heart. 

God what am I thinking?

You shook your head, laughing at yourself. The melodic sound of your laugh perked his attention, his head turning to you, his smile mimicking yours. 

“What?” He asked. 

You looked back at him, shaking your head. For the first time that night, the two of you held eye contact for more than a couple seconds. 

“I think I should get going…” You say. There is a hint of sadness in your voice, your eyes never leaving his. “My manager probably already called the cops the second she saw I wasn’t in the dressing room.” 

Seungmin nodded, his expression turning down. He didn’t say anything. You wondered if you should say something, but decided against it. 

It wasn’t until you were already halfway through the roof that you turned back, running back towards Seungmin, who was now resting against the railing watching you go. When you got to him, you wrapped your arms around his waist in a tight hug, catching him by surprise. 

When the shock wore off, he engulfed your much smaller figure in his arms, and you hoped he couldn’t feel your giant smile against him. 

“Thank you, Seungmin.” 

“Y- You’re welcome.” 

You let go of him, really leaving this time around. 

As you climbed the stairs back down still wearing his jacket, your heart was pounding again, but now for totally different reasons. And your mind couldn’t help but wonder if this was the start of a great friendship, or perhaps something more was to come out of it…

[swiss-mrs]

PORTALS (I)

Eddie Munson x Reader/OC - Intro

This AU takes inspiration from The Witcher Series and DND, but prior knowledge of The Witcher or DND is not needed.

AU "Warnings": Violence, Angst, Adventure, Gore, Supernatural Elements, Adult Themes and Language. No Use of Y/N

Reader/Unnamed Character Description: Medium-Long Hair, No Mentions of Race, Ethnicity, Age, Etc.

(WC 5,038)

‘Fuck, this sucks!’ Eddie thinks to himself as he blows hot breath into his hands. ‘Of fucking course I lose my keys right now.’

Round 4 of pacing through the woods and still no luck. Eddie ducks down to try and get a better view of something metallic looking under a bush. “Oh thank God. AH-” He stumbles forward and braces himself, squeezing his eyes shut, preparing to eat dirt, yet it doesn’t happen. He wheezes as his back hits the ground with a dull thud, 'fucking tree.' He tries catching his breath, opening his eyes to see the moonlit treetops above him. ‘The fuck?’ He furrows his brows, lifting his back off the ground, adjusting into a sitting position. He stares at his legs in front of him. “What the fuck?” He repeats out loud.

Eddie looks around the ground beneath him. ‘How did I…’ He moves his left hand feeling the mulchy ground before hitting something hard. His features relax a bit as he turns toward the glistening item, reflecting a warm glow. “Sweet.” A little smile forms on his lips as he grabs his keys and begins to lift himself up, but he is quick to furrow his brows again. Eddie then finally looks up to take in his surroundings. Doing a quick 360, he now notices he can no longer see his van nor the parking lot just beyond the tree line. In fact, it seems the trees just go on forever. “What the fuck?” He questions again, a bit more panicked.

Eddie faces the source of warm glow. ‘A campfire? There’s no way I didn’t notice that before. I couldn't have wandered THAT far.’ His mind starts running a million miles an hour for an explanation of his current state, retracing events over and over. ‘Maybe I should just go over and see if those guys can help…’ Though he can’t see anything past the fire and there doesn’t appear to be anyone huddled around it, he feels a natural instinct to head towards it. Just before his foot touches the ground to take a step, he’s back to laid out and wheezing.

He hit the ground a lot harder this time, and his body is quick to try and regain air, but it can’t. Eddie starts coughing and gasping so much that he barely has the chance to notice the sting of cool metal against his neck.

“You better have a good reason for me not to kill you where you lay.” a voice calls out, low and threatening yet incredibly calm for the situation at hand. Eddie's eyes shoot open as his coughing fit dies down. He stares up in shock at the kneeling figure on his chest.

“What the-” His mind goes blank as he takes in the silhouette above him. It’s hard to see every detail as they are covered head to toe with various layers and the brightest light source is behind them.

They are hooded and masked with an entrancing, mystical glow emitting from their eyes and a few trendless of hair flowing from beneath the hood. Even with one knee jabbed into his chest and a sword against his neck, Eddie couldn’t help but be completely awe struck. This stranger was right out of his character journal but better.

“You mustn't test my patience now.” The figure stated, knee driving deeper, blade nearly drawing blood.

“waH- WAIT! WAIT!” Eddie stammers, putting his palms up in surrender. The figure's glowing eyes narrowed, urging him to continue. “Please! I- I swear I’m not here to bring harm! I’m just lost!” He shouts out in a panic. The figure’s head cocks to the side. Eddie can’t see clearly, but he swears he sees an eyebrow raise. “Please… Take this really awesome looking sword away from my jugular and just let me explain.” Eddie tries to reason with the stranger. They stare at each other for a few seconds before the stranger gets up, standing next to Eddie’s laying figure, sword unwavering.

“Up.” the voice cuts through the air as if speaking directly into Eddie’s mind. He moves as quickly as he can with caution, not wanting to spook the sword’s wielder into chopping his head clean off. He slowly lifts his hands in the air again to show no harm.

“Okay, okay.” He breathes out quickly as his mind tries to explain himself. The stranger’s face gets slightly more illuminated as they now stand. Eddie can see them eyeing him up and down, their gaze now holding a hint of confusion. Eddie takes a deep breath, “My name is Eddie. I lost my keys after coming out here to take a piss and right as I found them I tripped and now I have this super badass looking warrior standing in front of me with a blade to my neck.” He rambles. “ I have no idea how I managed to get this far from my van, and, though really cool and really scary, I am really confused as to what is happening right now.” He answers truthfully. The hooded figure only continues to stand still, staring into his soul. “I swear on my life, I am just really lost… Please.” He begs, hoping his story is enough.

“Where are you from, Eddie?” The shift in their voice as they say his name is almost taunting, untrusting.

“Hawkins. Hawkins, Indiana.” He answers quickly.

“Hm.” It is short, testing. A second later, the sharp coolness on Eddie’s neck disappears, and he relaxes. The blade flickers by the stranger’s side. “Eddie of Hawkins.” All tension floods back into his body, awaiting for the next sentence. “It is quite obvious you are not from here, but I fear you may be more lost than you know.” The masked swordsman turns their back on Eddie, walking back towards the fire. “I advise you to go back to… Hawkins.” The words unfamiliar to their tongue. “You do not belong here.” Eddie stands there with his hands hanging in the air, dumbfounded.

‘Ouch…’ He’d hate to admit it, but for some reason, that stung. He breathed a sigh, resting his arms back at his sides. He watches as the figure gets farther, sitting on a log next to the fire. Eddie stares for a moment, then glances behind him to look at the never ending woods, then looks back to the figure next to the fire. He takes a few steps back, turning to head the opposite direction of the fire.

He doesn’t know it, but the figure's eyes find him again, watching as he stumbles further into the night. The figure shakes their head as they continue to tend to the fire.

》》》

“Fucking Christ.” Eddie mumbles to himself. He’s been walking in no particular direction for what feels like a good 20 minutes. ‘There is no way I managed to get THIS far from the lot.’ He sighs, wrapping his arms tighter around him and his jacket. ‘I should have just asked for directions. Maybe even ask if I could stay by the fire with them until morning.’ Eddie shakes his head at his own foolishness. “Stupid.” Another seemingly 10 minutes pass and he hears the sound of rushing water. ‘Maybe it’s a river. I’m pretty sure following a river is a good idea to lead somewhere.’

Eddie changes direction a little, leading him to a wide body of shallow water. If it weren't for the circumstances, he would’ve loved to just sit and admire the way the moonlight shone like glitter atop the water. As he looked around Eddie noticed another light emitting from the other side of the river. He is quick to spot a fallen tree that looks to be his best option to get to the other side of the water without soaking his feet. Eddie uses a couple rocks to help hop his way over to the tree. Walking across the tree, he starts to get a sinking feeling in his stomach. ‘What the fuck was up with that masked person back there? A sword?’

Eddie hops off the makeshift bridge and to the ground, continuing his trek toward the fire. The closer he gets, he notices what looks to be several people laying on the floor next to the fire. He sighs in relief, ‘Maybe a group of campers will be of more help.’

Just as he is about to announce his presence, something catches his foot, causing him to trip forward. This time, landing as gravity intended, on his face. “Really?” he says out loud in frustration. He spits at the dirt stuck to his lips and turns as he sits up looking down at what tripped him this time.

His eyes nearly jump out of his head. ‘No way.’ He scoots back a bit further, scrambling away. ‘Is that a LEG?!' He feels the need to scream as his breath picks up. He turns towards the campsite and now realizes a crucial fact he did not notice from afar. The bodies that littered the ground around him were just that, bodies. Mangled bodies. Dead people.

Eddie scrambles to get farther away from the gruesome scene in front of him. “AHH!” He yells out. “What the shit fuck!?” His panicked eyes scan around him. The bodies, rather body parts, that litter the forest floor are all torn as if jagged claws or teeth ripped them apart. He can't bare the sight yet he can't tear his eyes away from the scene. He scrambles to his feet and begins to slowly walk backwards, back toward the river. Crack. Eddie stills, ceasing his movements, holding his breath. 'That wasn't me. Is whatever did this still here? Shit, I really shouldn't have made so much noise.' Crack. Eddie can feel his heart pounding in his ears. Snap. What he'd originally thought was the sound of twigs, now sounds an awful lot like the breaking of bones. God, how he wished he didn't have to be so familiar with that sound.

Crack. Eddie's head whips to his left, trying to find the source of the noise. There he sees two piercing white dots looming in the dark. Eddie remains frozen in place, holding the gaze of whatever this is. His heart quickens impossibly faster as the floating dots start to menacingly raise higher and higher. "f-fuck." his trembling voice coming out as a whisper. He stumbles back further, his brain screaming for his body to run. This thing in front of him stands at least 8 feet tall. As it stands to its full height, it lets out a piercing, high-pitched screech, rattling Eddie's skull.

"fuuUUUUAHHHHH!" He yells out as he turns and starts running back toward the river. "Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!" He repeats his entire run. He can hear the rapid footsteps of the creature behind him, quickly catching up to him. 'I'm not gonna make it!' He has no idea why he urges himself back to the way he came. There is no out running this thing. Maybe he's just instinctually trying to reach that masked being he encountered before? They had weapons at least, but they were a good 30 minute walk away. He wasn't even sure if they were still there. Who was he kidding? There was no way he'd even reach them in time even if they were still where he left them. He could see the tree he came across on, but would he even have time to climb back on it and make it across?

"GET DOWN!" a voice booms. Eddie quickly dives toward the fallen tree and into the shallow water, hoping to at least use the wood as a barrier between him and that thing.

The horrid, inhuman shriek of the monster blares once again, a more human-sounding yell interrupting it, challenging it. The sounds of a struggle could be heard, but Eddie was too preoccupied with trying to catch his breath. All he can hear is the sounds of water sloshing, monster shrieks, and the occasional huff from presumably the one fighting off the beast. Everything in him wants to run, but he fights the urge.

Eddie makes his way to his knees, kneeling behind the tree and lifting his head just enough to catch a glimpse of the battle happening. He doesn't catch much as not a second after he lifts his head above the tree does he catch a familiar assailant flit from the ground to a large rock just on the edge of the riverbed to the creature's spiked back, a black smoke-like substance following each move. Their movements were so swift and fast, Eddie could have sworn they just teleported.

The monster shrieks again in panicked defiance, the assailant driving their sword down into the back of the creature's neck, cutting the noise short. The fighter swings down from the creature's back, around its right shoulder, passing its front and landing a few feet away from the tree hiding Eddie. The fighter lands with a splash at the same time as the creature's head falls into the water behind them, the rest of its body falling suit.

Eddie stares in absolute awe. 'Holy Christ...' The fighter stands from their slightly crouched landing. As they lift their head, Eddie notices their mask has slipped, revealing their face 'Woah.' He couldn't help but stare, tracing each feature of their face with his eyes. He waited for them to look up, finding himself longing to see those glowing eyes again.

"You can come out now, Eddie of Hawkins." Eddie's breath hitches. He stands slowly, glancing from the figure to the decapitated creature behind them. "Come." Their voice demands as they begin to walk toward the monster's head, picking the cursed thing up, wrapping it in a dark cloth, and continuing out of the water to the side they originally came from. Eddie is quick to follow, stumbling along the tree's length and to the river's edge, jogging up to meet the familiar stranger once out of the water. He stays a couple of paces behind, a little weary of the covered, massive head in front of him. "I thought I told you to go back to Hawkins." Eddie is a little at a loss for words. "I told you. You don't belong here."

'Again, ouch.'

"It is quite obvious you are not of this world."

Eddie sighs in response. 'You got that right'

"You lack the self preservation even a doe or babe would have. Your choice of robes seem to work against your already evident lack of skill… and you smell-"

"Excuse me!" He interrupts, quickly lifting his jacket to his nose, sniffing himself. "First off all, Ouch. I get it. I'm no teleporting warrior, but where I'm from, things like that," he points at the bag accusingly, "are not common." He pauses, "Second of all, I told you. I have no idea how I ended up here, and... I have no clue how to get back…" He finishes, his tone dropping a bit as he realizes how truly lost he is. As he and his strange companion fall into a thoughtful silence, his mind begins to run.

'What if I never find my way back? How does time even run here? What if I do get back and everything is different? What about Wayne? Will I ever see him again? God he will be so worried. I told him I'd make a point to call him every payphone I passed. He's going to go mental. What if there is no way back? What am I going to do? How are you going to get out of this one, Eddie? You're all by yourself this time.' Eddie is so lost in these thoughts, he doesn't even realize the previous fire he first met this stranger was coming into view. The warmth from the blazing fire was what brought him back to reality, or this reality.

He watches as the stranger walks to the other side of the fire, opposite of him, crouches down, and stuffs the clothed head into a large leather bag before tying it off. The hooded stranger stands, leaving the bag on the floor. "Sit," They say, gesturing to the log they were seated on earlier that night. "if you want." Eddie blankly follows instruction and takes a seat next to the fire on the edge of the log. A loud huff causes Eddie to nearly jump out of his skin. He whips around to find a huge horse a few feet behind him. He sighs, relieved it isn't another monster. A small, airy chuckle breaks the silence. "Do you not have draughts in Hawkins?" The stranger teases.

"Draught?" he asks in confusion.

"This is Rogue." The stranger says tenderly, gently stroking the animal's massive head.

"We call them horses." He replies, only to be followed with another short, breathy laugh from his savior. 

"Yes, that is what they're called. A draught is a working horse. A big horse, in lamest terms." The stranger breaks down. Eddie's face heats up a bit.

'Nice, now not only are you as skilled as fucking Bambi, you're also a dumbass.'

"Rogue is my most trustworthy friend. He's the best guy around." The stranger smirks, Rogue huffing and nodding his head up and down as if to agree with the statement. Eddie grins, amused at the horse's actions. "One moment." The stranger says abruptly, catching Eddie off guard a little. They make their way to the other side of Rogue and start rummaging in a sack. As they come around to the front side of Rogue, Eddie notices them carrying a stack of fabrics. "Here." They walk towards Eddie, placing the stack on the log next to him. "You are soaked to the bone after diving into that river. You'll find the weather is not very kind this time of year." Eddie shivers just as the sentence ends, as if on queue. "I would apologize if they are too small, but by the looks of it, you do not mind tighter garments." Eddie scoffs at the comment, a small smile playing at his lips.

"Just keep 'em comin'." He replies, earning an amused but confused head tilt from the stranger next to him. "Thank you." He stated gratefully, picking them up as he stands. 

"Not to worry, this hunt ended a bit sooner than expected, so I won't be needing the change of clothes. I should be the one expressing gratitude." the stranger takes a seat on a tree stump adjacent to the log. Eddie's nods, not wanting to ask any further questions until he was out of his wet clothes. He stands awkwardly for a second, trying to decide where to change. "Just on the other side of Rogue is a hanging cloth. You can change behind there." the stranger says as if reading his mind.

"Got it." Eddie nods, walking around the log and around the front of Rogue, nodding to him as if to give a Hello, Rogue softly huffing back in response. Eddie makes his way behind the hanging cloth and begins stripping off his sneakers and soaked pants with some difficulty. Feeling incredibly exposed, he hurriedly shuffles through the pile of clothes and slides on the new pair of pants. They fit about the same as the jeans he'd previously wore, but they were more comfortable and had more give than the stiff jean material.

Next was his shirt. The shirt the stranger gave him was a bit looser than the band t-shirt he came here with. It had longer sleeves with lacing at the neck. He mentally compared it to a pirate shirt but in black.

'Metal.' he thought to himself. He never owned something so fantasy-esque. He never felt so in character. He smiled to himself a little, imagining how cool he would look in his own variation of his saviors attire. 'Now is not the time, dipshit. Get back to the fire before you freeze your nuts off.' he interrupts his own mental tangent. 'You're right. Of course I am. Wait why the fuck am I talking to myself.' He shakes his head at his inner dialog, and makes his way back to the fire.

As he rounds Rogue to get back to the log, Eddie notices the stranger has taken off their boots and placed them just out of the fire's reach. They also moved the log a bit closer to the fire as well. They look up at Eddie as he walks toward them. "Lay your clothes there, so they can dry by morn." They state, pointing to the log with the stick they held. Eddie did as he was told, placing his shoes next to the strangers and laying his shirt and pants over the log. Just as he was going to lay his jacket down, his heart sunk.

“Shit.” The stranger looks up at a frantic Eddie as he rummages through his jacket pockets. On one side, he finds his van keys and wallet. As his hand pats the left side of his jacket, he sighs in relief feeling a hard box in the pocket. He fishes the contraption out of the pocket, throwing the jacket over the log haphazardly, next to his other clothes. His hooded companion glances between him and the unrecognizable item in his hands. “Please don’t be broken.” He begs the thing. It is relatively dry, so he has some hope. He presses a button on the side of it, putting it up to his ear. He lets out another sigh of relief as the stranger looks at him quizzically.

“What in the realms is that?” they say, grabbing Eddie’s attention.

“Music.” He answers matter-of-factly. The strangers face scrunches further.

“I am not sure our worlds have the same meaning for music.” Eddie grins, dropping his hand from his face.

“Here.” He goes over to the stranger, kneeling on the ground next to them. “This is called a walkman.” He holds up the small box. “Inside of it is a tape.” He pops the door open, causing the stranger to jump back a bit. This causes Eddie to chuckle. The stranger shifts their hard gaze to him, causing him to end his laughing short, covering it up with a cough. He tilts the box towards them a little to expose the tape inside. “The music is held inside the tape. You can change them out with different tapes for different songs.” He pops it back closed. “When you press these buttons, you can play, pause, fast forward, or rewind the music. These things attached to it are headphones.” He explains, stretching out the wire to unravel it. He places the headphones over his curls to demonstrate how you wear them. “This is where the music comes out from.” He takes the headphones off his head then clicks play. A muffled noise can be heard coming from the devices. He brings the headphones a little closer to his savior's face. The stranger leans in a little, hearing what sounds like a man singing and strange muffled whines they’ve never heard before. Their brows are drawn together.

“What kind of music is that?” They say, not quite understanding the instruments that can be heard.

“Rock music. This is a mixtape I made. This one in particular is one of the best bands ever. Black Sabbath. This song is from their Paranoid album. It came out over a decade ago, but I can’t seem to get tired of it. I have an original vinyl. It’s one of my greatest possessions. I actually swiped it from a record store when I was 11 as a birthday gift for myself. Cherished it ever since.” He rambles on, the stranger staring at him as if he’d grown an extra head. He notices the stare and stops talking. He pauses to take a breath. “Sorry… I know probably nothing I just said made any sense to you… I get a little passionate about music, and it’s exciting to introduce someone to my favorite bands.”

“Are you a bard of some kind?” They ask, curious about Eddie’s life in the land of Hawkins. Eddie chuckles, lighting up a bit.

“I guess you could say that. I’ve studied the art of guitar my whole life.” He says dramatically, lifting his head proudly, slipping into his DND fantasy character persona a little. The stranger looks at him curiously.

“Guitar?”

“Yeah, Uh, simplified, it's like a wooden box, with strings, that you strum to make music.” He stumbles to describe a guitar, holding his hands up to mimic himself strumming a guitar. 

“A lute?” Eddie snaps, pointing at the stranger, slightly startling them, but he doesn’t notice, too wrapped up in his explanation.

“Yeah! It’s like a lute, but mine uses, uh, like controlled lightning; we call it electricity. It is used to amplify the sound, and it also changes the sound a bit.” He rambles again, “But, yeah, it’s very similar.” The stranger nods, trying to wrap their head around the description.

“It is like a magical lute…” they reply. Eddie smiles a bit wider, liking their interpretation.

“Yeah, you could say that.” The stranger nods again, going back to tending the fire. Eddie stays there, kneeling on one knee, taking in each feature of his savior’s face, admiring how the soft light of the flickering flames dances across their skin. He notices their eyes are no longer glowing from within. They have now softened to their natural hue, reflecting the light from the flames.

“Do I have something on my face?” the stranger asks seriously, yet not changing their position at all, still poking the fire with the twig in their gloved hand. Eddie is knocked out of his trance. His eyes widen in embarrassment as he jumps to face the fire.

“No, no. I was just, um,” trying to find his words, he pauses then lets out a light, awkward laugh, “Are you some kind of monster hunter or…?” He switches topics. The stranger shortly laughs through their nose, amused by the question.

“Yes, something like that.” they respond vaguely. Eddie waits eagerly, waiting for his savior to expand on the concept. “You should rest.” the stranger cuts short. Eddie’s shoulders fall slightly. He was ready to get a full lore dump, akin to what his little sheep would do in Hellfire when they’d introduce a new character, but he had to remind himself that this, in fact, was not a roleplay. It was real. This is a real person with very real skills and a very real backstory.

‘Come on, dude. Chill out. You can’t really expect them to divulge into their whole backstory, right now. There is no telling how long you are going to be here. We got time… I think…’ Eddie sighs deeply, his eyes flutter at the dreaded thought.

The stranger stands, bringing Eddie out of his own head. He follows suit, standing slowly. He watches as the stranger goes over to Rogue and unlatches a buckle to release a thick roll. Eddie’s eyes follow as they make their way to the opposite of the fire as the log that held his clothes and starts to unravel the roll into a makeshift bed.

It’s about 3 inches thick with a sturdy linen exterior. They then go back to Rogue and lift off a large fur pelt, walking back around to the bedroll and laying the pelt out.

“Here.” The warrior states shortly, making their way back to the stump to sit and continue tending to the fire. Eddie stays standing in his place.

“Wait, that was for me? Where are you going to sleep?” He protests, eyeing his hooded companion.

“I will not sleep. I will keep watch. As you may now know, these woods,” they gesture to the bag that held the decapitated head, “are not very safe… though, a little safer now that I've rid it of its Alghoul problem.” They poked the fire a few times. “Hence, I prepared for a restless evening. I will be fine. Now rest.” They continued, shutting down any opposition before it started.

Eddie stared down at them, tempted to argue, but when a pair of stern eyes connected with his, a slight glow building from within, he instead made his way to the bed, sitting upright, facing the fire. The warrior side eyes him as he chooses to sit up instead of lay down. They shake their head a little as their gaze returns to the fire.

Eddie’s gaze stays fixed on the flames. A chill runs down his spine, just now feeling the effects of the cold night air licking the back of his dampened shirt.

Realizing the wetness of his hair was causing the issue, he takes the black scrunchie that was around his wrist, hidden under his sleeves, and pulls his hair up, tying it in a lazy bun to get it off his back. He then moves to grab the heavy pelt behind him, wrapping it around his shoulders. As he settles back into his cross-legged position, the silence, though comfortable, only allows room for his mind to wander.

Eddie's thoughts were filled with dread at first, so much so he didn't notice the soft humming coming from the stranger seated beside him. As soon as their humming started though, Eddie could feel his breathing slow, and subconsciously, he began to relax.

His mind began to silence, as if the voices in his head were getting farther away and eventually locked in another room, muffled. His eyelids began to fall and his body became more slumped. A couple seconds after his eyes completely shut, he could hear the faint sound of dirt shuffling just barely noticeable underneath the wood crackling fire. The humming began to get closer with each shuffle. He then felt the faint touch of two hands pushing on his shoulders, forcing him to lay. Drifting in and out of sleep, he feels his head hit the linen beneath him. The humming becomes more and more distant as his senses begin to leave him, slipping into a deep sleep accompanied by an angelic voice and the crackling of firewood.

-🦇-

I have no idea where I'm taking this but I just like this AU 😫 forgive me

Swisslist (General Taglist): @rosecentury @solacedthistest @madelynraemunson

[despairots]

- at the top of my lungs, in my arms, she dies , #c. nakahara!

description, there’s a reason why chuuya never went to visit you. it’s been like that every since that fateful day of dazai jumping, leaving no goodbye to chuuya. he felt distraught, but he’s moving on, taking the lead of the port mafia boss. though, he’s wondering if you miss him.

story contains, suicide, swearing, mafia activities, character deaths, beast!bsd spoilers, unrequited love??, more like right person, not enough time, angst, etc. gender neutral! reader. drabble, short.

it’s terrifying that i never wrote about chuuya,,,, anyways my bsf is gonna watch bsd and im tryna gatekeep dazai and chuuya from him (i showed akutagawa to him so he can take him)

chuuya nakahara doesn’t remember the last time he visited you. he was piled in work, and a few work that dazai refused to take on and do, leaving it to chuuya. he’s stressed, i mean, who wouldn’t? he’s the port mafia boss.

he hasn’t seen you in a while, he’s too afraid to face you. thinking about all the guilt on leaving you would catch up to him, it’s not that he doesn’t feel guilty— he does— he doesn’t know if you’ll forgive him. he knows you’re a pretty forgiving person, until it’s someone you care about is hurting you a lot.

chuuya’s scared, in short words.

he remembers your touch, your leadership, your eyes, you don’t smile often, he misses it though. he cherishes you very much, if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be thinking of you this much.

he hasn’t seen you ever since dazai’s suicide, he misses you both (dazai, a little bit less). after all, you were chuuya’s first love, how couldn’t he miss you? everyday, chuuya wonders what would happen if you didn’t leave.

now, at the port mafia, he’s by himself. all alone. piled with work and the amount of mafioso’s that don’t know how to work. as much as he hates this job, it’s the only place he feels like he belongs in, his loyalty goes beyond.

he wants to see you, so much that it’s hurting him. kouyou could see the look of distraught on the boss, as an executive, she asks what’s wrong with him. they can’t have their boss in this type of state.

kouyou knows how much you mean to him, he has a picture of you in his office, a spider lily caged in a glass beside the photo. she could tell that chuuya loves you, very much so, until the very end.

she’s visited you here and there, telling you how chuuya is and how much he misses you, aswell as wanting to see you. she remembers the words that you’ll wait for him, no matter how long until he sees you.

you had told her not to tell chuuya, well, because maybe chuuya will hurry the process and be there as soon as possible. you wanted him to take his time, you’d wait forever for him, even in death.

“where are you going?” kouyou asks, the answer already in her head once she sees the port mafia boss turn around, holding a bouquet of red roses. “you wanna come with?” the sight makes kouyou widen her eyes a bit before she closes them and turns around.

“i already saw them.” she whispered softly, her heels clicking on the floor as chuuya nods and leaves the building, a black car appearing in front of him.

chuuya can’t remember your voice, he only has your voicemails. he can’t remember your smell either, he only has a few months left until all your clothing, bedsheets, pillows, and perfumes are gone.

the sight of your place comes into view, stepping out of the car and heading straight to yours, the guilt and excitement all rushing into his brain—

—until he steps infront of your grave. dropping the roses on your grave and seeing the left over flowers kouyou left for you. there’s a restrained look of sadness on his face as he stares down on your grave, the wind blowing past him.

he’s scared that you won’t forgive him, for not visiting you, for not being there for you when you needed him the most, and especially, not being strong enough to save you. he thinks that maybe he should’ve just stayed with you, to stop you from hurting yourself any longer.

it’s the life time guilt he has for not being able to forget you, he gave you up to fast and chuuya wants to experience the life of being with you again.

there’s a reason why chuuya never went to visit you.

it’s because you’re dead.

[mlmxreader]

Always Be My Demon | Simon Ghost Riley x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ “all your friends are fucking dead” w/ ghost & gn!reader 👀 @mockerycrow ❞

: ̗̀➛ Ghost's significant other is killed by the Shadows, and although he tried to save them, they'll get their revenge from beyond the grave.

: ̗̀➛ swearing, smoking, alcohol consumption, gore, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, death, body horror, burning alive, SUICIDE, stabbing, violence, blood

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

Ghost had not been the same, not since the incident; the one person that he had fought to protect, fought to ensure that they saw the end of the war, and he had failed. It kept playing back in his head, no matter what he did.

He had not been the same since you had died. He had not been the same, and he never would be again. You were inseparable, once upon a time, and now, even though your burned discs hung around his neck on the same chain as his own, he knew he would never be at your side again.

Yet, he dreamed of you so often.

Ghost just wanted to haunt you, for forever and a day. He wanted to go back to being at your side once more, but he knew that such a thing would never happen. But he dreamed of you, he couldn't stop dreaming of you. It was the only time that your death didn't replay in his head; burned alive and trapped within a shed.

The Shadows had danced and sang as you burned, screaming out for Ghost to help. Gaz, Price and Soap had held him down as they looked away and tried to block the sight of the flames. Yet the smell clung to the air, and the screams only stained it even more.

Ghost never stopped thinking about it, but his dreams were so, so sweet. Your appearance had changed so terribly; covered in blisters and burns, your skin cracked and charred. Your uniform, once proud and spotless, was frayed and torn, black smears across the desert khaki.

The red and green striped jumper you had worn underneath your uniform had ripped and the strings dangled from your torso, exposing the blistered flesh that was once your chest. Ghost didn't really bat an eye at first, when the Shadows started to die in their sleep; the rumour was carbon dioxide emissions, he didn't care.

They deserved it.

They deserved it for what they had done to the one person that Ghost truly, absolutely, loved. But then things got weird. Soap reported it first, complaining about weird dreams to Price; he would furrow his brows, and describe a figure in a burned and torn uniform, wielding a kukri and wearing a dark brown beanie.

Chasing him down, but every time he tried to look properly, he would wake up. Every time they caught him, he woke up.

It was odd. Soap never had dreams like that, and from the descriptions, Ghost was only more confused - it sounded like you. At least, in appearance. Even down to the weapon of choice.

Even when they were sent back home, with Ghost sitting beside your coffin the entire time and weeping, something just didn't feel right. The Shadows were all gone, sure, but something didn't feel right.

Ghost's dreams became more vivid, almost like they were real. He could actually hold you, actually feel you in his hands, and when he looked into your eyes, he thought, just for a moment, that you were still alive.

"I love you," sounded so real coming from your mouth. "I really do."

Soap's dreams got worse, too, nightmares. He would scream and thrash around in his bed, tell everyone that he had seen faces pushing through his chest when he looked in the mirror.

The weirdest was when he had a dream that he had been slashed with a knife… and had woken up with a long, jagged gash across his chest. Exactly like a slash wound from a blade.

He told Ghost all about it, and was convinced that he was going to die; Ghost told him not to worry, that it was probably just trauma from how they had all watched… watched that day and had done nothing to save you. But Soap was adamant.

He really was.

It was late when Soap returned home from a pub night with Gaz, Price and Ghost; he almost didn't even take his jeans off when he flopped into bed. Dizzy and tired, he muttered that he would never drink again as he closed his eyes.

Convinced he had probably dreamed of going home, Soap was hardly surprised when he woke up to find himself in a warehouse. Pipes burst, hissing thick smoke, and Soap coughed as he shook his head.

"How tae fuck did I get here?" He murmured, pressing his hand to his temple. "Fuck… must'a been that fuckin' Jäger…"

"One, two, they're coming for you."

That was… children? Soap furrowed his brows, taking a look around. Why the fuck were there kids in a warehouse?

"Three, four, you'll be no more."

He started to wander through, trying to search out the echoing nursery rhyme; or at least, he guessed it was a nursery rhyme.

"Five, six, you won't make it out alive."

He paused, wondering what the fuck kind of nursery rhyme that could have been.

"Seven, eight, they're full of hate."

He continued, painfully aware of his footsteps echoing.

"Nine, ten, never sleep again."

Shaking his head, Soap was about to go through a corridor, when he froze; he became tense, all too aware of something, someone, watching him closely. Something lurking in the dark nearby.

"Going somewhere, John?"

He knew that voice, and slowly turned around. You weren't too far away, he could see you clearly and he grinned as he met your gaze.

"Oh, it's only you."

He was relieved, it was only a dream. He was safely tucked away in his bed.

You took a few steps forward. "Only me… y'know, I've been Craven some… closure."

Soap cocked his head to the side. "Huh?"

"Don't worry," you tapped his cheek as you grinned. The flesh around your mouth cracked, thick scabs leaking soft streams of red. "It's all in your head."

Soap nodded slowly, clearing his throat. "I know you ain't real, but, erm… Simon misses you, y'know."

You hummed. "Don't worry, I'll be seeing him soon enough… as for you, though, John, I'd say it's your lucky day."

"Eh?"

"I'm the one of your dreams," you whispered, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him in close. Your mouth right next to his ear. "And I always have been, haven't I?"

"I don't-"

"Relax, John," you told him softly. "This is all in your head."

Soap shook his head, taking a few steps back as he clenched his jaw. "Yer dead."

"You made your death bed," you laughed. "You'll have to die in it soon enough."

"I don't understand."

"Oh, don't worry, MacTavish," you tutted, tossing him something round and coarse to the touch. "You'll go out with a bang, at least."

Soap examined the object, his jaw dropping and a shaky breath leaving him when he realised what it was; he looked at you, voice shaking. "Why?"

"Because…" you hummed. "I wanna see what your insides look like."

He wanted to throw it back, to get rid of it and to try and save himself, but when he went to throw it, you shook your head.

"I wouldn't… I know your temper can be a little explosive, but c'mon, John. Think."

Soap sniffled, nodding as he sat down and let the object clatter to the floor between his legs. He knew there was no escape, he wasn't an idiot. He had seen it coming.

"Atta boy," you took another few steps back, and put on a pair of sunglasses as you hummed. "Bomb voyage!"

There was a sharp, bright, orange light; it took a few seconds, but the sound was almost deafening. Everything that Soap had been, flesh and bone and blood, splattered and hit every available surface.

"Huh," you hummed, scooping something thick and gooey from where his skull had been. "Well, I wasn't wrong when I said his head was stuffed with wet sawdust."

The news of Soap's death had wrecked Ghost; he hardly slept, wondering why the fuck Soap had a bomb on him at home in the first place. It wasn't like him.

Soap would never be… no. Soap would have reached out if he had thought about taking his own life, Ghost knew that. He was certain of it. Soap would have said something, anything. Soap would never have been in possession of a bomb, either; all of his demolition equipment was always organised neatly back at base.

The only thing he ever took from it was the fancy coffee sachets that Price bought. Soap would… no. Ghost knew that something was wrong, something didn't make sense and didn't sit right with him.

It wasn't a suicide, it couldn't have been - but then, Ghost wasn't entirely sure what it could have been… until he fell asleep one night, and saw you juggling bombs whilst sitting on a chair and wearing sunglasses. That was… odd. Ghost tried not to think about it as he sighed, sitting down before you.

"Soap died…" he said softly. "Everyone says it's suicide… and I know, I know you ain't here, not really, but I… it's nice to talk to you, even if I'm only dreaming…"

You nodded, gently putting the bombs aside and tossing away the sunglasses. "I'm sorry, Simon."

Ghost shook his head, swallowing thickly. "Dunno what to do…"

"Just breathe," you told him. "Just breathe, while you can… oh, and answer the phone. It's annoying me that you're letting it ring."

Ghost smiled as he closed his eyes for a moment, but when he opened them again, he could only sigh heavily; he picked up his phone, bringing it to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Simon."

"Price."

"Have you, erm, have you been having… nightmares?" Price sounded worried. "About, erm… y'know."

Ghost shook his head. "No, Sir. Why?"

"Soap," Price sighed heavily. "Soap said he was having them, and now he's… y'know…"

"Yeah."

"You alright?"

"Yeah."

Price hummed. "Call me in the morning. Me, you and Gaz - I'm gonna take you lot all out for a day next week or something. Y'know, get away from… everything."

Price started having the dreams that night. A figure in a ripped uniform, dark brown beanie, holding a kukri and smelling distinctly like burnt flesh, It was… odd, to say the least.

Price tried to stay awake as much as he could, but he wasn't as young as used to be, and he eventually succumbed to the siren call whilst signing paperwork for Laswell at his desk; the last one he signed, now smeared w his drool, was about Soap's death.

A warehouse, empty and desolate. Yet he could hear children singing, echoing through the walls as if they were far above him.

"One, two, they're coming for you. Three, four, you'll be no more. Five, six, you won't make it out alive. Seven, eight, they're full of hate. Nine, ten, never sleep again."

Knowing that it was just a dream, he shrugged, and decided to sit down on an old crate; he searched his pockets, but his cigarettes weren't there. Bugger.

Maybe it was like his phone - he might have had them constantly, but when he was dreaming, he obviously didn't pick them up. Maybe. He shrugged, leaning back a little so that his head softly hit the cool wall. He didn't think much of it, until he saw the figure approaching.

"Oi!" He called out.

"Evening, Cap," you smiled, mockingly saluting him. You pointed to his pocket. "Nasty habit, that. Good thing you forgot 'em… it'll burn you alive."

Price rolled his eyes. "I'm guessing this is just the trauma."

"Incredible work, Sherlock."

"Take a seat," Price huffed, gesturing to the crate opposite him. "So, what? You're gonna convince me to see a therapist?"

"Only if it was Hannibal Lecter… after all, you have been known to kill in poor taste, haven't you?"

He scoffed, shaking his head. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"You let me die," you growled out. "You stopped Ghost from saving me."

"It was us or you."

"You let them set fire to that shed," you hissed. "You let them do it…"

Price clenched his jaw tightly, pursing his lips. "This is just my subconscious."

"Is it?" You growled lowly, approaching him and sitting on his lap as you gently traced the kukri from his throat to his belt. "Look at me. Look at what they fucking did to me! I'm like a pork scratching fucked burnt bacon!"

He swallowed thickly. "This is just a dream. I know that."

Slowly, you sank the kukri into his arm. "Is it, John boy?"

"This isn't real!"

You withdrew the blade from his arm, and set it against his mouth, forcing him to open his mouth like he was grinning. "That's it, smile you son of a bitch… let's see how you like it when your loved ones find your corpse mangled, shall we?"

Price fought back, forcing you off of his lap and pouncing on you; he did his best, but he wasn't as powerful, and you eventually managed to pin him down on his back again as you grinned.

"Here's Johnny!"

"Get the fuck off me!" Price hissed. "This isn't real!"

"Aw, don't worry," you taunted. "Our film is nearly finished - you're just prime time television!"

Price struggled, but he didn't know that you could fight dirty; you clicked your fingers, and sat back slightly as you watched cigarettes fill his mouth one after the other until his mouth was stuffed with them. He choked and gagged, trying to spit them out as you laughed.

"Well, aren't you just s-s-s-s-s-smokin'!"

You put your foot on your chest, bending over as you offered him a lighter. "It really is a nasty habit - like I said, it'll burn you alive."

You lit the cigarettes, and watched as the flame grew bigger and brighter as it engulfed his face; he squirmed and struggled, but there was nothing he could do. The smoke infected his lungs, and the ash clogged his mouth and nose as he choked and gagged. When you knew he was dead, you laughed, shaking your head.

"Another life taken by smoking, when will it end?"

Ghost answered the phone when Gaz rang. Price was dead. Fell asleep with a cigarette and very nearly burned his place down. Smoke inhalation got to him before the fire brigade and ambulance could.

Ghost swallowed thickly. It wasn't like Price to fall asleep with a cigarette, he would go absolutely berserk - for one, it was stupid and foolish. Two, it was a waste of good tobacco. Something definitely was not right.

First Soap, then Price?

It was all too uncanny. Dying in ways that they would never even risk. But, the loss was too much for Ghost to burden himself with; he knew that. He cut Gaz off. He cut everyone off. Threw his phone in the canal and smashed his laptop up with an old sledgehammer. Your sledgehammer.

He didn't feel right using it, and when he was done, he held onto it, and sobbed loudly. Snot dribbling from his nose and splattering onto the floor as a thick, transparent goo. His throat hoarse and raw. His head stinging and pounding. All Ghost could do was fall apart completely.

He was losing everyone. He lost the person he loved, his best friend, his mentor. Everyone around him was fucking dying, and he couldn't stop it.

Gaz wondered for days why he had not heard from Ghost, he worried a lot; Ghost had lost nearly everyone he had cared about, all that was left was Gaz, Farah, Alex and Laswell. Nobody else.

Ghost's entire family had nearly been wiped out.

Of course Gaz worried. Ghost was like a brother to him, and to not hear from him was unsettling, but there was little that he could do except drive down to see him. He asked Laswell for the address.

She provided it happily when Gaz admitted that he was doing a welfare check. But halfway there, he had to stop for a rest, and as it was a cold, bitter day with too many hours ahead, Gaz didn't see any reason not to snuggle down on the backseat of his car after pulling into a layby.

He practically launched himself into his dreams the second his head hit the seat.

He groaned when he realised he was standing in an old warehouse, blinking a few times to cure the grogginess from his eyes.

"You were the only one," he recognised that voice, and turned to see you smoking a cigarette. Your uniform was ripped and torn, burned just like your blistered skin, he could see the red and green striped jumper you had been wearing beneath your uniform that day, the hole in it showing off your charred chest. Or, what was left of it. "You were the only one who actually wanted to help."

Gaz nodded slowly. "Corporal?"

"It's me, Kyle," you nodded, licking your lips. "I know you wanted to help Ghost… I know you were only following Price's orders… I had to do it, y'know."

"What?" He shook his head. "No, no, this is just… just some sick dream."

"I liked you a lot, Kyle," you admitted, approaching and putting your hand on his shoulder as you sighed. "You were like a brother to me… you really were."

"This is a fucking piss take. You're not real - this is just a dream!"

"I'm sorry," you whispered as the room went dark. "But sometimes, you just need to take a stab in the dark."

You were certain that you hit him in the right place when you stabbed him in the back; he froze for a moment, the air pushed up through his mouth. He went limp, and you gently set him down, kissing his forehead.

"I love you, brother."

Ghost read it in the newspapers. Gaz was in the hospital after suffering sufficient nerve damage in his back. Apparently it had been something to do with the position he had fallen asleep in whilst in his car.

It didn't sound right, but Ghost was thankful that Gaz was at least alive. He didn't want to believe it, but he knew that, somehow, it was connected to Soap and Price's deaths.

He knew it, somehow, and when he fell asleep on Gaz's sofa after agreeing to look after the place, he wasn't sure why he woke up at his old flat. The one he shared with you.

Yet there you were, sitting on the sofa with a bar of soap, a packet of cigarettes, and a union jack baseball cap on the coffee table. Ghost swallowed thickly.

"It was you," he grumbled. "Wasn't it?"

You nodded. "All your friends are fucking dead, Simon."

"How?"

"I made a deal," you shrugged. "When I died. That I could come back…"

"You're a demon," Ghost whispered.

"Dream demon," you corrected, but then you grinned. "You could come home to me, y'know…"

His eyes went wide for a moment. He had been left without anyone else in his life, so he nodded slowly. "How?"

You offered the kukri to him. "Slit your throat… we can be together forever."

It was all too tempting. He expected them to do so, but when he took the blade from you, his hands didn't shake at all. He didn't even hesitate as he brought the sword to his throat, and quickly swiped it along his skin; choking, he dropped to his knees, and coughed as he watched his blood pool around him.

"That's it, baby," you reassured, patting his back. "It'll all be over in a second."

You could see his appearance change; his eyes lost their pupils, and all colour drained from them, leaving behind only bleached irises. He stopped choking and coughing, and gagged softly as he regained some composure. You smiled, kissing his temple.

"I can't feel anything…" he grumbled, lying down and laying his head on your lap. "I'm cold."

You shook your head, sighing. "You're not like me, that's why."

"What?"

"You'll never die," you explained, "you'll never age. You'll only decompose so much, and then you'll walk among the living…"

"You said we'd be together!"

"We will," you reassured. "You are the only one who can bring me outside of dreams, Simon. Whenever you want, all you have to do, is fall asleep and pull me into your world."

Ghost sighed, shaking a little as he shook his head. "Why did you do it?"

"I had to," you admitted. "Soap and Price… they stopped you from saving me… and Gaz… I made sure it was quick for him. I didn't want to make him suffer, I know he… he wasn't guilty."

"Gaz is alive," he told you. "He's in hospital recovering."

You breathed out what he could only describe as a sigh of relief. "He'll come after us… but I'm glad he survived."

"I don't want to wake up…"

"You don't have to," you shook your head. "You can sleep for years and years at a time, if you want to… you're not alive anymore, Simon, but you're also not… really dead. You're forever haunting."

"So we can be together?"

"Always," you nodded. "We'll never have to be apart again."

[thistleation]

Holy crap. Mother fuck. I wish I had more words besides screaming right now. When I got the notification of the new chapter for Beyond Space and Starlight, I listened to the previous chapter to get myself warmed up, but by the time I finished listening I knew I was going to have to read the newest chapter with my eyes (faster than listening).

Gods. Truly my friend, you did not disappoint. I am absolutely obsessed with the way that you write body language and somehow manage to set my blood on fire with these feelings(?!?!??!?) between those three. Gah. Just--! GAH. Amazing.

Thank youuuuuu 💕

I swear EVERY chapter, EVERY time before I post, I get this feeling of "is it actually good though?"

Even if a week later I'm looking back and feeling like it's the best thing I've ever written, before I actually post it, there's always that uncertainty.

Also thank you for the compliment on the body language descriptions. I think I'm a very visual and physical writer. I really do my best to put myself in the scene, feel what the characters are feeling, and then describe that in words as accurately as I can manage.

So yea, I put a lot of effort into things like body language, expressions, and the general vibe a character is projecting at any given time, and it's very flattering to have that explicitly mentioned. 🥰

I hope I get to keep up this story for a long time still to come. This throuple is so much fun to write.

[actuallysaiyan]

The Girl Who Came To Stay; Chapter One: My Name Is Called 'Disturbance'

Author: @actuallysaiyan Word Count: 3,411 Summary: Briar arrives in Aston, hoping to finish up the job of getting rid of the devil plaguing this small village. Despite the fact that the mayor is clearly lying, Briar thinks herself capable. Turns out, Mina is quite the force herself. Thus, Briar employs the help of the Sparda twins, while falling for Dante's charm. Warnings: Dante x OC, violence, graphic descriptions, swearing, flirting, devil triggers. Author’s Note: This is the first chapter to the wonderful fic by me and my bestie @beneathstarryskies! If you'd like to be tagged in the updates, please let one of us know! We really hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

The village is quiet when Briar passes through the gates. She draws her coat a little closer to herself, her eyes darting back and forth beneath the oversized sunglasses she wears. Everything seems so bleak and so dreary just walking into this tiny area that one might call a village. The citizens seem to feel apprehensive and cold to her, but she doesn’t care about that. It’s not about them right now, what it is about is the pay that could be hers if she can take care of this problem.

A group of school children passes by her, and something about it just reminds Briar of those horror films she enjoys watching in her spare time. They all look up at her, wide-eyed and pale. It’s something out of a nightmare really. She chuckles under her breath for being so creeped out by mere children. She makes her way past them and further down the dirt road towards the large building in the center of the village. 

Inside she meets the man she had spoken to on the phone. He’s the mayor of this village and he’s desperate to get outside help to get rid of his little problem. The best part is, Briar knows these types. They want things to be kept quiet and they will always pay more to keep things discreet.

“Finally, I was starting to wonder when you were showing up.” The mayor criticizes, earning a groan from the woman. 

“I told you I’d be here.” Briar answers. “I like to take my time. Being thorough is all part of who I am.” The room grows colder and the mayor begins squirming in his chair.

“Okay, okay. I’m just glad you’ll take care of this for us. We’ve been dealing with this for far too long. But we aren’t equipped for this type of problem.”

Briar lets out a laugh, the weight of the large machine guns she has strapped to her back only becoming apparent in this moment. “I’m sure you can see just how well equipped I am, mayor.”

His cheeks redden at her insinuation, “About the payment, as we discussed on the phone, I will double it if you can deal with the problem discreetly.”

“Not a problem. Now, can you explain more to me about this situation while you show me to the forest?”

They leave the building, and he leads her out of the village through the back gates. The dirt path continues for some time before coming to the start of a small, but green field. Not far from where they stand is an enclosure connected to a small barn. The smell of livestock is a little more pungent as they grow closer. Briar notices that the forest is just a little beyond the farm and her nose wrinkles when she realizes that the mayor is leading her through the field to get there.

“You can’t be serious right now.” She huffs, turning to face the mayor. He just shrugs.

They continue walking for a little bit, reaching the small house on the property. A young man plows the fields, which sit the furthest on the property. The mayor is about to turn to say something to Briar, but from the small shed next to the house comes an older man. He’s the least bit surprised to see the two of them, but there is a look of disapproval on his face.

“This is the man who owns this farm, George. “ The mayor introduces. George stands his ground a little distance from the pair, and Briar just shrugs.

“Okay. Does he have anything to do with this situation or are we going on our way?”

The mayor grumbles, “It has everything to do with everything. He’s the person who knows the most about this.” 

George grumbles, “I know why you’re here. But why is she here? Who is this?”

Briar smirks at the old farmer, “I’m here to get rid of your little problem, old man.” The mayor is already blubbering apologies to the farmer, but George only shakes his head.

“This is what you meant when you said you’d get help from outside the village? I thought we had a deal.”

The two men squabble back and forth and Briar rolls her eyes. She can’t stand when people argue like this, it’s one of the most annoying things she can think of. With a sigh, she places her hand on the mayor’s shoulder. A shiver runs down his spine and he slowly turns to face her.

“Look, just tell me the severity of this devil. It’s probably no big problem for me. But I just need to get an idea of what I’m dealing with.”

The mayor fumbles with his words for a moment before finally deciding on how to explain it. “Well, George lost his daughter a few years ago. We aren’t sure, but it seems only likely that this devil in the forest took her from us.”

There's silence, and George can’t face either of them. It’s not long before he’s just walking away from the pair, a little defeated. He knows that he’s not going to be able to fix this. 

“Let’s go.” Briar urges. The mayor sighs but he knows better than to anger the young woman.

They walk away from the farm, passing by closer to the animals. Briar is amused to see something so mundane as this. She feels like it’s been so long since she’s had so much fun while going on a job. So far, it’s been a pretty easy job. She knows the worst is yet to come, but if this is the typical devil she deals with on a daily basis, it won’t even be that bad.

Briar starts to see that she may be a little in over her head when she sees the bodies outside the treeline. Three corpses, all in different states of decay, a long stake piercing their body. She tilts her sunglasses down to get a better view, not believing her eyes. This wasn’t the work of your run-of-the-mill(is this how you do that????) devil. This was something even more troublesome.

“Well, you failed to mention that the victims have been staked. That could have been useful information to tell me.” Briar groans, not believing her eyes. It’s grotesque and gruesome. There’s a part of her that’s excited to take on whatever is lurking in this forest.

“There seems to be only three. One of them was a devil hunter like yourself, but as you can see, she wasn’t as well equipped as you.” 

Briar scoffs, “of course not. I know what I’m doing.”

A few of the men from the village are trying to remove the corpses, but none of them seem like they truly like doing this dirty work. Briar almost pities them. It isn’t their fault that a monster has come to terrorize them. Nobody asks for this kind of shit to be dumped on them, but it’s always a messy job to clean this all up.

“Alright, since you failed to mention the stakes, I think I’m going to have to ask you for a pay increase. That’s a fee for withholding information from me.”

The mayor frowns, “You’ve got to be kidding me! I’m already paying you so much, not to mention if you’re discreet–”

“When I’m discreet, is what you mean.” Briar interrupts, crossing her arms over her chest. The mayor shudders, suddenly nervous about the whole situation.

“Look, either I’m going to deal with this, or I’m going to leave and you can have a lot more dead people on your hands. Which would be a shame, because they’d realize just what a chicken shit mayor they have. That’s a realization I’d hate to have just as my life ends.”

The men stop what they are doing, and they turn to watch their mayor cave into the woman. They know he’s weak and a coward, but they aren’t any braver than he is. They would never speak up to him, but it’s nice for them to be able to watch him cower in fear when she speaks like this.

“Alright, alright…just help us, okay? Don’t make me get on my knees and beg.”

Briar smirks, “Too bad. You’d look pretty good that way, I think.”

She moves further into the dense forest, wondering if this is all a bad idea. She knows she needs the money, but it could be much riskier than thought to be. A steady build of the scent of leather, and maybe a touch of that whiskey Briar always tends to pick when she’s feeling particularly needy is in the air. She stops in her tracks, her brain beginning to feel a little clouded with lewd thoughts. She needs to take a deep breath before muttering to herself. Whatever this devil was, it had the power to make her feel this weak with scent alone. 

There’s a growling noise behind her, which causes her to look behind her shoulder. A single gray wolf stands a few feet away, its teeth bared at her. Its eyes glowing brightly, causing Briar to pause for a moment before reacting to the situation. The air feels a little cold and still, making the hairs on her body stand on end. 

The wolf snarls at her, but she notices just how distorted the voice sounds. She takes a few steps back, making sure she’s got room to move around if she needs to. Whatever is going on in this forest, it has come to influence the animals somehow. This wolf seems to almost have an aura around it, but it’s the look in the glowing eyes that has Briar so freaked out. It’s like staring into an endless void of light. It lunges at her, barely just missing her with its enormous paw. The wolf snaps its jaws at her, its teeth bared once more as it continues growling.

In one swift movement, Briar slides one of her machine guns down her shoulder. Once it’s firmly gripped in her hands, she fires shot after shot into the poor animal. Blood and guts fly into the air as Briar doesn’t stop shooting it until it lets out one final whine. An eeriness settles in when she sees that it isn’t completely dead yet, but it’s on the cusp of dying. One of its eyes dangles out of its head, but the other blinks rapidly as it comes to the realization that its life is ending.

“Guess it wasn’t your lucky day, was it?”

She laughs again before shooting it one last time. A flash of bright light comes from the other end of the forest, and it seems to be leading Briar into the forest now. As much as she wants to stick around and investigate what’s wrong with the corpse, she decides that her true goal might be closer than she expects.

The trees get a little denser before they are sparse once more. In a small clearing, she can smell the scent of leather even more clearly. The closer she gets to the blinding light, the more there are little nuances adding to the smell. It becomes increasingly hard to focus the closer she is to the light. Finally, before her is the devil. 

Her breath hitches in her throat when she sees the devil before her. With her eyes glowing and standing just a little taller than Briar, she’s quite the sight to behold. And that’s not to mention the purple skin, so soft and smooth.  Briar groans when she catches on to what’s happening. This isn’t any ordinary devil, it uses its demonic powers to seduce its prey. 

“Do you know you’re stinking up this place?” Briar finally manages to spit out, her energy beginning to rise. Icy blue swirls of aura surround her as she grows in size. 

The devil doesn’t seem to register the question asked, or maybe she doesn’t care at all. Briar knows that this is going to be a lot more difficult than she expected. Of course, the mayor left out so much information. How could Briar really come to this battle prepared? But she won’t lose. No, that’s not going to be a possibility.

“Hey, are you just going to ignore me?” Briar taunts, walking closer to the devil. Her wings flap violently, kicking up dust from the forest ground.

She soars up into the air, and the devil looks up at her. Briar considers her next moves carefully, knowing that the seductress could just use anything to deceive her. She launches towards the devil and strikes out to catch her neck, but the seductress is too quick for her. Briar finds herself being thrown, the only thing stopping her is when she slams into one of the trees. It topples over like an oversized domino, knocking over the next to from the force of her body hitting it.

“Hey, babe. You gotta calm down. Or else, I’ll have to get nasty with you.”

With a flick of her tail, she’s on her feet again and dashing towards the devil. But she’s blindsided by the overwhelming scent of a musky aftershave and visions of scantily clad men and women. It’s almost mouthwatering. Briar curses before the devil swipes at her, landing a pretty deep gash on her side.

This alone is what makes Briar grasp the sheer severity of the situation. She won’t be able to take on this devil alone. She’ll be needing some help.

Escaping the forest hadn’t been easy, but as soon as she reaches the farm, Briar collapses on the ground. She places a hand over her wound, utilizing her powers to stop the bleeding. Within seconds, she feels a little less lightheaded. The air smells of cowshit and hay. She laughs to herself, groaning when she feels pain radiating from her wound. 

And then she picks herself up and goes to tell the mayor what she plans on doing. She hates to bring on another devil hunter for this job, but it’s just not possible alone. He’s not in the least bit surprised, so he mentions having heard of a business that might help her with the problem.

“And you didn’t call this guy first, why? If he is as good as you say he is, then it could have been handled so much easier.”

“I didn’t want too many people knowing about this! And-and I don’t even know if they are good. It’s just something I heard.” The mayor stutters.

Briar crosses her arms over her chest, pouting slightly as she considers what’s at stake here. She’s got a few options, but asking for help from someone else might be the best choice in this situation.

And this is what leads her to the city. It’s damp and wet, making her shiver. Years of trauma keep her from interacting with anyone else, only set on making it to the place she needs to be. She walks along the wet sidewalks, clutching at her still sore wound. The devil had slashed her worse than she previously thought. It won’t take too long now to heal. The people become fewer and fewer as she approaches a less desirable part of the city.

Within minutes, she’s facing the building she needed to find. The lights on in the window would suggest someone is inside, but it’s the glowing neon sign that catches her eye, of course. She snickers at the name. It’s not that it’s bad, it’s just so cheesy in a way. There’s a moment of secondhand embarrassment, but then she feels bad for judging so quickly. She’s about to head over to the door, but she takes a moment to compose herself. She needs to be serious about all of this.

All prior thoughts of seriousness leave her mind as she’s kicking open the door, marching into the place. She nearly falters when her eyes land on the most gorgeous man she’s ever seen in her life. He’s sitting there at the desk, a look of surprise in his eyes but a smirk plastered on his face. She’s instantly hooked to the way his eyes make her feel like she’s the only person in the room. And this is what draws her to him, completely ignoring the other person seated on the other side of the room.

“Do you believe in love at first sight– or should you kick down that door again for me, baby?” 

Briar’s eyes widen, a blush creeping up on her cheeks. She’s speechless for a moment. It’s been a long time since anyone has said anything like this to her. “Look, you must really think you’re funny, but I’m here strictly on business. I need help with something, and someone told me you’re the best to help me with my little problem.”

The man sitting at the desk only chuckles, the sound making Briar’s heart skip a beat. She narrows her eyes at the man, wondering if he’s also like the devil she encountered in the forest. How pathetic would it be to have been tricked again? She places her hands flat down on the desk, leaning over to face the man. A shiver runs down her spine when she realizes he smells exactly like the scent from before. She looks down at her hands. This is all so pathetic for her.

“I need help. But understand that this is a one time circumstance. We’ll part ways after this, if you accept my offer. I need help hunting a certain devil.”

The tone in the room shifts as he looks at her carefully, almost considering what she’s said. Briar realizes he’s going to need some details. She sighs before explaining to him what the mayor had told her at first, and then she goes into even greater detail about the bodies on the stakes. She doesn’t hold up on the gory parts of the story.

“I mean, they were just staked. It was like some sort of weird Dracula type thing, I don’t know. But what really is the kicker here, is the fact that it’s some hot piece of ass seductress devil. How can anybody take this on by themselves?” 

“And why would a seductress devil stake bodies?” A cold voice asks from behind her. Slowly she turns to find the source of the sound, her eyes widening again when she faces the man who just asked her the question.

He’s just as stunning as the man at the desk, and she can see just how much they resemble each other, but they both are almost strikingly different from one another. Briar remains speechless for a moment, feeling small under his gaze. 

“How the hell should I know? I told you, it was freaky. And then she fucking seduced me,”

“It just doesn’t seem to make any sense to me why a devil of that type would do something as barbaric as stake bodies.” Briar huffs, her arms crossing over her chest. The man at the desk leans in closer, his eyes darting up and down when he sees her breasts being pushed up.

“Well, all I can say is that there were bodies staked outside that forest. It almost seemed like some sort of warning.” 

The man opens his mouth to say something when the other man pipes up, “Just stop. I’ll help you. We don’t need to keep sitting here and arguing about it.” 

Briar smirks, “Finally. Took you long enough.” She turns her attention to him completely. “I’m Briar.” 

There’s a smile on his face now, “You can call me Dante. The loser on the couch over there is Vergil.”

She laughs, but she’s quick to quiet herself when Vergil’s eyes dart over to her angrily. She hates to think what he could really be like if he were to be severely provoked. Briar makes a note to not push his buttons, she’s encountered enough people who could hurt her so easily, she’s not proud of being tantalizing sometimes.

Briar mentions to both Dante and Vergil the promise of an even bigger pay since she threatened the mayor, and Dante confirms with her that they will meet tomorrow to take down the devil. She leaves the shop, a pink tinge on her cheeks. Warmth blossoms from deep within her, and she has to stop herself from grinning like an idiot.  She’ll meet him tomorrow. 

[kotoprotranslations]

EPISODE 7 LIGHT NOVEL Chapter 6-8 English Translation

WARNING: This chapter contains descriptions of body horror. Unfortunately, as in Episode 5, the relevant passage is large and contains plot relevant details, so I couldn't edit around it. I apologize for the inconvenience.

--

The group descended the steep, chilly stairs at a rapid clip. The stones that made up each step were cobbled together without any refinement. They couldn’t see what lay ahead through the inky darkness.

One of them, though, was certain that what lay ahead was dreadful beyond measure, and that was Fossanova. Once he found out Elnora had been captured, he’d given up on begging them all to leave and now followed along silently.

“You still won’t tell us anything?” Clemens asked. “What is this place?”

Fossanova’s eyes wavered, just like before. He said not a word in response.

The staircase bottomed out onto a low-ceilinged stone corridor. The path proceeded straight ahead with no branches or turns, yet Fossanova still hesitated. They continued walking for who knew who long in oppressive silence, until suddenly, distorted, off-putting sounds began to emanate through the air, reverberating off the worn mortar. Growling and moaning, long and rumbling, echoed around them, their source the end of the long path they stood on.

“What the – what’s that sound?”

Everyone strained their ears to listen. Hude Lou eventually murmured, “It sounds like an animal crying...?”

What was it? Was it really an animal? No, Owl didn’t think so. He focused all his attention on listening as closely as he could. “That’s... a person,” he realized, icy tendrils creeping up his legs. They were muffled, difficult to hear properly, but those were clearly words.

“It hurts, save me, I don’t want to die, put me back, put me back to normal, if you can’t do that then at least –”

Fossanova went waxy pale at the sound of their cries for mercy, steadily growing closer and louder as they progressed.

“This is, a little, tight....” Clemens loosened the ribbon of his tie as the voices beating on his eardrums left his throat feeling constricted. He took a careful breath in, then out, to see if that would help. It didn’t. Every time he breathed, it felt like he was swallowing lead instead of air.

Owl eyed him. “Right, your hearing’s really good.”

“You could say that.”

“... Do you want to go back with the director?”

Clemens’ steps never faltered. “Absolutely not. Elnora is quite special to me. I cannot lose her.” His fingers clenched the discarded high heel in a white-knuckled grip.

Owl’s eyes flicked down to the shoe. “Like Prince Charming off to find his Cinderella,” he remarked.

A faint smile flashed across the priest’s face, there and gone in an instant. “I’m the only man in the world who could never be her prince,” he replied, “even if I could revere her as a queen.”

Owl’s brows furrowed. “What does that mean?”

Really, what did Clemens mean? He would’ve asked further... but just then, something caressed his cheeks, derailing his train of thought. “... What the? Was that wind?” He turned around to stare at Hude Lou directly behind him. “Did you feel a breeze just now?”

Hude Lou shook his head with a puzzled frown. “No? We’re several levels underground by now, there couldn’t be any wind down here. Not even my cards could produce any this far down. Maybe you just imagined it?” He brushed past Owl to continue onward.

The thief had a point – neither his hair nor his robes were fluttering in any sort of breeze. But Owl was sure he felt something. “But, I swear, just now....”

Something whistled past his ear. The wind was calling for someone.

“There it is again!”

“Owl?” Clemens glanced back.

“The wind. You felt it that time, right?” He’d seen Clemens’ hair shift, he had to have felt it!

But Clemens squinted at him in confusion. “... No, I didn’t.”

“I’m telling you, you’re just imagining things,” Hude Lou told him.

Then where was it coming from...? Owl scanned the area, checking for any gaps in the walls that air could pass through. He found nothing. The stones were packed perfectly tight. Another weird spot around here concealed by ancient alchemy? No, he quickly confirmed that to not be the case, either.

He figured that out so quickly, of course, because he saw it flowing out of his own coat pocket, the opening billowing open and shut like a breathing mouth. With a faint confused hum, he plunged his hand inside. The instant his fingers brushed against its contents, he knew what it was. “Jack’s gloves...!”

The white gloves Jack had loaned him rested in his pocket. Eliza had sewn those gloves for her beloved husband. They were also alchemical implements, given that she’d also embroidered a medical array on their backs.

“Owl, that’s....”

“It’s a bonded tool.”

“Bonded – like you with your gun, you mean?”

“Exactly. These are Jack’s, they only work for him and whoever he permits, and....”

Owl’s breath caught. He broke into a sprint. The corridor was a straight shot forward. Even he couldn’t get himself lost.

“Bonded tools respond to their owner’s power!” Owl tugged one glove on as he ran. “Take me to your master!” he ordered them. The embroidery on the back began to faintly glow.

“Owl, wait!” someone called behind him. “Don’t go off on your own!”

Owl didn’t falter. If the bonded tool was reacting like this, that meant its wielder was still alive. Jack was still alive. One hand fisted over his heart, hope blooming in his chest, as he surged forward, the wind guiding him along.

For a while, anyway.

“AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!”

The most hideous scream yet rang out from the end of the path.

“What the --?”

The corridor suddenly turned right at a hard ninety-degree angle. To the left was just a wall, but the new right path opened up significantly, both wider and taller. Their only way forward was to the right, it seemed.

However, a sense of foreboding overtook Owl only a few meters down that way, and he paused. He could hear something to the right... the scraping sound of something being dragged, the squeaking of metal being rubbed, and groaning and moaning. And under the faint light from his lamp, he could see something lumbering along the wall... a strange, massive shadow.

It slowly inched along, a lump of flesh wrapped in rags one second, a titanic caterpillar wrapped around blue-gray stone the next. With squirming, wriggling arm-like appendages waving in the air, pieces of flesh falling from the rotted body with wet thumps to the ground, it slowly approached their group.

Clemens pressed his palm to his nose to block the rotten stench. “What is that...?”

“Ah... AH...!” Fossanova let out a hopeless scream, trembling from head to toe. “This is...! I can’t believe... they would... those people are...!”

“‘They’?” Owl and Clemens exchanged glances. “Who’s ‘they’?” Clemens asked. “It couldn’t be... that’s not a person, is it?”

“What do you mean, ‘they’?” Owl demanded. “Yeah, I mean, that thing got enough mass for four, maybe five people combined, but... that can’t....” He trailed off as the horrific image solidified itself in his mind, much as he desperately hoped he was wrong.

Fossanova seemingly lost all strength in his body, slumping as if he was about to hit the wall, nodding hard enough to nearly snap his neck. “Th-Th-They’re, they’re the patients that gathered here, m-mixed together into that... but I didn’t think they were alive...! What was he doing down here?!” he cried.

Owl and Clemens had no words for that. Patients, combined together... a dizzying sense of vertigo nearly overcame them both.

Hude Lou managed to keep his voice, though was equally appalled. His fist slammed into the wall next to him. “Combining people like that... there’s no way that’s possible!”

“It is. It is, for the winged one...!!”

“The winged one...?!”

Fossanova moaned. “... They’re his test subjects...!”

Owl turned his gaze once more to the creature... to them, shambling closer. All he could see was a massive bundle of roiling flesh, the center hard as if a stone were growing out of their bodies. Still, visible parts here and there certainly maintained a certain human look – the hands crawling along, the feet dragging across the floor, those were undoubtedly human. Undoubtedly several humans. A mouth hidden somewhere in that wall of meat spurted gruesome groans and wails, but he could also hear heart-wrenching, tearful pleas underneath the moaning.

This creature had clearly been created through the most sinister, taboo acts imaginable. Owl was breathless in his fury. “This is completely unforgivable...!” His gun was up and pointed directly at the amalgamation before he could process, the muzzle already glowing with alchemical energy. His finger tensed on the trigger –

“He... eLp....”

– and froze.

“They’re conscious...?!” Owl’s heart leaped in his chest. They still had their minds... and as that thought passed through his mind, his resolve faltered, and his finger relaxed.

... Can I shoot them? When they can still think like humans? Is there any way to... save them?

“HAAAUUGHHHH!!!”

Unfortunately, in that instant of hesitation, they leaped, rotted limbs flying akimbo like shredded flesh as they charged Owl. Shocked by the sudden assault, he leaped back, but the path was still narrow. His spine slammed against the wall. There was nowhere to run.

“You idiot!”

A white cape flashed in front of Owl’s eyes.

Hude Lou – who had apparently dropped his disguise too fast for Owl to see – tossed something between the detective and the charging creature. Owl had just enough time to register that it was a card before the thief shouted, “Rampart Crevasse!” A thick wall of ice rocketed out of the card and slammed into the amalgam of flesh.

“Hude Lou!”

“Don’t let your guard down!” Hude Lou ordered. “There’s no fixing them, they’re already dead! At least grant them their final request, while they’re still human! Let them die human!”

“...!”

The towering ice soon crumbled, leaving the moaning creature free to right themselves, racking the floor as they did. They turned to look at Owl and his friends once more, every minute movement of theirs slowly eating away at the stone around them. “HuRRy... hURryyyYYYY...!! Gggkk, kiii, kiLL UsSs...!!!” they groaned, writhing forward again on all limbs.

Owl pointed his gun again, but the muzzle wavered in the air.

“Pierce through, Prison of Stakes!”

Owl startled as gigantic dark red stakes shot out of the walls and ceiling, slamming into the amalgam all at once with a rapid series of thumps and stopping them in their tracks. That technique, so like a cage of bloody spears....

“Clemens?!”

“Grant their wish posthaste, Owl. Those stakes won’t last forever!”

Owl was focused on a slightly different matter than that. “What are you thinking, using your power looking like that?!” he hissed.

Those were Clemens’ blood stakes, something he summoned while he was Demonized, but right now he still looked human on account of Fossanova. Clemens himself seemed relatively unbothered, though. “... I asked the younger ones. They piqued my interest,” he said. “Nick and Ralph can use a fraction of their power in their normal states, can they not? Now, quickly, if you please.”

“I didn’t need your help! I could’ve done this on my own!”

“Are you sure about that? You may have gained your fair share of experience lately, but you’re unused to combat. Look at how you hesitate now, with no Demon in front of you. Shall I take the shot instead?”

“You?”

“I know the battlefield well. My comrades, who lost all their limbs yet couldn’t die and cried to go home... this will hurt less than what I did for them then.”

Clemens held his hand out, palm open, a silent entreaty. Owl stared at it for a second, then turned away. “... No, I’ll do it.”

“Do you think you can?”

“This is my job.”

Owl wriggled through the gaps between the stakes to approach them. They’d already lost their sense of reason; they no longer remembered how to speak, simply leaking sounds out of the opening that vaguely resembled a mouth. Lumps of flesh fell off their shared body with every twitch, cold blue-gray stone visible through the widening gaps. Each piece of rotted flesh slowly turned to stone as they hit the ground, and slowly crumbled away to ash.

“This is....” Owl’s gaze wavered. He could barely stomach to look. But he took a deep breath, resolved himself, and turned to look again. “... I can – I can at least separate them into their original bodies...!”

He switched the gun to his other hand, the one clad in Jack’s healing glove, and aimed it at them.

“Transmute –”

A golden array spun to life around his hand, the symbols reflecting in their eyes. The fingers around their mouth twitched and spread, as if reaching for the dazzling light like an innocent baby.

Owl’s face twisted in grief. “... Please, rest in peace,” he murmured, before he brandished the gun further and called, “Disassemble... repair soul.”

The amalgam’s body was swallowed up by the light, their delicate voices slowly losing all strength.

“... A... ah....”

The combined bodies split apart as the light faded, leaving five normal human bodies lying on the floor, all of them missing large chunks and none of them breathing. The stone in their core, now uncovered, shattered into dust as it fell with no flesh left to support it.

Owl stared down at the bodies, jaw clenched. “... I hate that I have no words of prayer to offer,” he murmured.

“Just say what comes to mind,” Clemens replied. “It might not reach Heaven, but it’ll reach them.” As he spoke, he shucked off the institute uniform he was still wearing – most likely because he couldn’t fight in it. The clothes underneath were not his usual priest attire, but rather something more befitting a secret agent. He pressed a hand to the symbol on his tie and uttered a short prayer, then carefully shifted the five bodies off to the side in the corridor.

Owl removed his own uniform as he watched Clemens go about his business, leaving him in his usual detective’s coat. He glared at Fossanova. “Looks like we have a lot to talk about,” he growled. “Tell us everything that’s going on down here!”

Fossanova silently slumped to the floor, completely and utterly resigned. “... I do not intend to hide the truth any longer... I will answer any questions you have.”

The ball of rage in Owl’s chest only burned brighter. Why didn’t you tell us everything from the start?! he seethed. What in the world is going on here?! He bared his teeth in a snarl, ready to rip into Fossanova anew.

But then he glanced up and the words died in his throat as he whipped his gun up to aim behind Fossanova.

Another one of them had fallen to the ground just behind the director.

“There are two of them?!”

Another amalgam had at some point drawn close to them by crawling along the ceiling and collapsed on the ground behind them. Several tentacles extended from their mouth.

“Fossanova!” Clemens lunged for Fossanova.

Alas, he was too late. The tentacles snagged the director long before the priest could even think to move. He screamed as they dragged him along the floor toward the creature.

“UUuuuUUUAAAAAOOOOOOHHHHH!!!”

They, too, roared in kind as they pulled him further into the depths.

“WAIT!”

The remaining three sprinted after them, struggling to wrap their heads around the current reality laid before them. Fossanova had said a “winged one” was using patients’ bodies to make those amalgams. Those creatures, unable to die, unable to think rationally, only capable of crawling around and moaning, their bodies turning to stone after their rotted flesh falls off, could no longer be saved. Pieces of the current amalgam’s body even now fell off as they gave chase.

What was it? How did it get like that?

The sight before them was just too unreal to comprehend. Or perhaps they just didn’t want to comprehend. They just didn’t know. They didn’t know anything.

Owl’s teeth gnashed together, nearly drawing blood as one dug into his lip. “How many patients got turned into those things...?! Who would... why would they do...?!”

What sort of game did they think this was?!

A shudder wracked his frame as that thought passed his mind.

A game. That’s right.

Ever since he got here, he’d had the sort of feeling that this was all some twisted game. The warped state of those who’d died, the hints left by their bodies....

“Not here,” they’d said. They’d teased.

A voice echoed in his ears, in his brain, in his everything.

“Ladies and gentlemen, come one, come all! Who among you will find the answer to the game?”

This was what had been bothering him at the scenes of the crimes this whole time. All of the bodies had been purposely left in conspicuous places, fiddled with to imitate the heroes saved by Asclepius, and given a piece of the mirror to hold. A mystery that, when solved, led them underground. It was all someone’s perverse idea of a game...!

“And we’re the pieces...!”

Owl’s teeth gritted hard enough to ache. This was completely and utterly unforgivable. Whoever they were, they clearly thought of people, of their lives, of their dignity as mere toys. In no world would that not send him into an incandescent rage.

The amalgam dragging Fossanova away made a massive leap onto the ceiling, fingers dangling down here and there along its twisted form. Finally, they slowed to a halt, rotted flesh dripping off their shared body, and drew Fossanova close to peer at his face.

“I’ll get them this time...!” Owl brandished his gun, activating his array and taking aim, ready to rescue Fossanova without delay.

This time, too, though, he paused. Not because he didn’t mean to shoot this time, though, but because just as his finger tightened on the trigger Fossanova cried out. “Ahh, ahh, AHH...!” Tears fell like waterfalls from his eyes. “I can’t believe this! What have I... what has he been doing all this time?! He said he would save you! If I kept offering him patients, he said he would save you...!”

The meaning of his words quickly became apparent. A mustachioed face had appeared within the mass of flesh, one that had clearly once held dignity and poise but now had the sunken-eyed look of a withered husk.

“FATHER...!” Fossanova sobbed.

Clemens froze. “‘Father’...?! Is it really him?”

“As in, the previous director?” Owl turned horrified eyes on the amalgam. “He’s really in there with them?!”

While those two were stunned, Hude Lou leaped past them, shouting, “Icicle Arrow...!” He pulled back an invisible bowstring, which quickly solidified into a very visible bow of ice. “Sorry, but I’m not as nice as Owl!” he called, letting the arrow fly. It froze the air itself as it sailed up and pierced the tentacles keeping Fossanova captive, slicing them to bits and sending the director plummeting to the ground.

“Fossanova!” Clemens dashed forward and caught him before he slammed into the stone floor.

Owl snapped back to his senses and aimed at the mass of flesh still clinging to the ceiling. “Disassemble – repair soul!”

This time, he pulled the trigger, the bullet flying straight and true through the alchemical circle and straight into them. As the light swallowed them whole, the part that was once the previous director made a strange sound, and their entire shared body convulsed and rammed itself into the ceiling.

“FATHER!!” Fossanova threw Clemens’ arms off him and rushed toward the light, his hands outstretched toward the body – no, the bodies as they split apart and fell to the ground. “Father!” he cried, cradling the elderly man’s remains. “Ah, AHH, I’ve been such a fool...! You knew, didn’t you, that to him a promise to a human was nothing more than a piece in his game!”

Over half of the old director’s body was gone. Fossanova patted what was left of his face and called his name again and again, but he knew that what he held now was not the man he once knew was his father. That man’s soul was gone.

Fossanova broke down weeping. “Forgive me, Father...! If I – if I had just had the courage to confess my sins to Mr. Clemens sooner....”

Clemens drew closer to his former student and stared down at the hollow-eyed corpse’s face. “... It’s the former director,” he murmured.

“You’re sure?” asked Owl.

Clemens nodded. “Without a doubt. It’s him. Fossanova’s adopted father.”

Owl’s shoulders hunched. “I see.”

Hude Lou watched on, eyebrows raised. “And here I thought he was the mastermind,” he muttered. He glanced at the other bodies and kneeled down, gently running his fingers over their corpses before reaching out and picking up the scattered bits of blue-gray stone lying near them. He clicked his tongue.

Clemens faced Fossanova. “Tell us everything, Fossanova,” he ordered, though not unkindly. “What sins to you have to confess?... And who is the ‘winged one’ you spoke of?”

“He... he was... he was just enjoying himself...!” Fossanova’s hands rose to clutch at his skull, the very picture of regret. “After I did everything he said! I was... I was a fool...!”

“Who is ‘he,’ Director?” Owl pressed. “Is it –”

“Is someone there?!” a new voice suddenly called out.

Everyone flinched and turned. “Who’s there?!” The three fighters held themselves ready, prepared for another assault.

“You need to run!” the voice – male, by the sounds of it – continued. “It’s dangerous here!”

“... That voice....”

Owl gasped. He recognized that voice.

And at the same time, the glove on his hand kicked up another gentle breeze, stirring up a tiny maelstrom of dust around him.

The gloves were reacting, stirring up the air like an overjoyed puppy wagging its tail. They sensed their master’s presence.

“Jack?!” Owl had broken into a sprint before he even registered he was moving, heading further down the path toward his friend.

“Owl?! Is that you?!”

“Jack!” Owl skidded to a stop by a tiny barred prison cell carved into the wall of the corridor. Three men were locked inside. Owl held the lamp higher, illuminating what was undoubtedly Jack’s face among them. For the first time since Owl set foot on the institute grounds, a sliver of happiness warmed his heart. “It is you! I’m so glad you’re all right!”

“Owl! I can’t believe you’re here!” Jack stretched his hands through the bars. He had a couple superficial injuries, by the looks of it, but seemed otherwise unharmed.

Owl gripped Jack’s hand. “I’ll get you out of there. Stand back.” He himself took a step back and aimed his gun at the padlock on the door as the three men in the cell shifted backwards. A single bullet was all it took to reduce the padlock – and a chunk of the door – to dust.

Jack stumbled out and grabbed Owl in a quick hug. “Thank you, Owl...!” he murmured, nearly overcome. “How pathetic am I, coming here to try and help you only to need your help again instead? Thank you, Owl, truly, you’re my savior!”

“You’re being dramatic. More importantly, is everyone here okay? Did they do anything to you?!” Owl patted Jack down, the amalgams still fresh in his mind. He breathed a sigh of relief upon finding no abnormalities.

The two men behind Jack also slipped out of the cell and immediately honed in on Owl’s companions with matching gapes. “Fossanova?!” one cried. “... And is that Mr. Clemens?”

“Why are you here?!”

“... Archie? Oliver?!” Fossanova shouted. He hurried past Clemens on unsteady legs toward them, a relieved smile breaking out like a sunbeam across his face. “You’re alive?! Ohh, let me... let me get a good look at you, please...!”

Clemens, too, seemed relieved. “Archie? Oliver? Is it really you...?”

“Yes, it’s us, Fossanova, Mr. Clemens!”

The pair happily embraced Fossanova. These were the very men he’d been looking for, the heads of the other two factions, the people he’d shared his secret room with, and his dear friends.

Fossanova clutched them both, the tears flowing freely down his cheeks. “I’m so glad...! I’m so glad you’re okay...!”

The two smiled. “Crying again, Fos?” one teased.

“Yeah, quit it, Fos, this is why everyone calls you a crybaby.”

They were clearly the best of friends, by the way they spoke. It was hard to reconcile this display of friendship with the knowledge that these three were the heads of three factions at odds... but no, they hadn’t been divided at first. They’d split apart due to circumstances after the fact.

A part of Owl wanted to inquire about said circumstances now, but it wasn’t the time. He pressed his hands to their backs and said, “All right, save the rest of the tearful reunion for later, hurry up and get out of here. My job was to find you guys, not to get into a fight down here.”

“Oh, uh, y-yeah.”

“I’ve got one more person to find, so I’ll meet up with you after. You guys go first.” Owl pointed back the way they’d come. “Clemens, you lead them outside.”

“One more person... do you mean Miss Elnora?” Jack asked.

“Huh?”

“Because if so, I saw her earlier. She wasn’t wearing her usual habit, but it was definitely her.” Jack pointed the exact opposite direction, further down the corridor.

Clemens whirled on him. ‘You did?! She came down this way?!”

“Yes, but she wasn’t ‘coming,’ really, she was being brought. He carried her through here over his shoulder. She didn’t seem to be conscious, either. I’d thought it was strange she was here in the first place, but I suppose she must have come with you, Father Clemens.”

“When? When did you see her?!” Owl demanded.

Jack winced apologetically. “I don’t have a watch or anything, so I don’t know when exactly it was. But you should probably go help her fast. He told us, ‘I’ll play with you as soon as I’m done with her,’ so....”

Clemens looked ready to bolt right now. “What’s down there?”

“I don’t know, but whatever it is, I’m sure it’s a desecration of life itself. You saw those things, didn’t you? They came from that direction.” He gestured more emphatically into the darkness beyond, to its disquieting presence.

“... We need to hurry!”

Clemens actually managed a few steps before Jack threw a hand out to stop him. “Wait. The path splits up ahead, it’s not a one-way road. I’ll guide you.” He clenched his left fist, the one clad in his glove, and murmured, “Oh thread and needle of mine... sew us the way to her.”

A tiny cyclone whirled to life around his fingertip that quickly coalesced into a shining thread that zoomed off down the corridor. “Alchemical thread, huh?” Owl wondered.

“That’s right. I secretly tied one end to Miss Elnora’s hair. Follow the thread and you’ll find her.”

Owl’s eyebrows raised. “That’s a doctor for you; you’re always so smart.”

“Oh, stop.” Jack gave a self-deprecating wince. “I told you, when it comes to alchemy I’m on the lower end of the spectrum. I’d need a ridiculously long incantation to pull that off if I didn’t have my dear wife’s gloves helping me out. I get a chill down my spine when you compliment me like that. Now, get going.”

“Yeah, thanks. You’re a huge help.”

Just when Owl and Clemens turned to follow the thread, though, Hude Lou piped up. “This is where we part ways, Owl.”

“Hude Lou?” Owl glanced back.

“You need someone to help them escape outside, right?” The thief grabbed Archie and Oliver by the arms and pulled them backwards a step. “There’s nothing here that I want, just a load of inferior products. I followed the rumors about the miraculous institute curing the Black Rose Disease and thought I’d find the person I’m looking for, but it would seem this is a dead end.”

His eyes briefly flicked upward. Owl followed his gaze. The lamplight shone on the stone fragments Hude Lou had picked up just now. Their blue-gray shade had since darkened to the color of ink in the time they’d been talking.

“The winged folk you’ve been facing up till now didn’t seem all that interested in humanity, aside from Krinos, but... the one up ahead seems quite interested indeed, and he sees us as toys, at that. I have no intention of fighting a person like that. If you’re really going ahead, Owl, you’d better prepare yourself.” Hude Lou clenched his finger and easily ground the stone fragment to dust. “To him, we humans are nothing more than pieces of flesh-colored clay.”

Owl was silent for a moment. “... Got it,” he eventually replied.

“Leave these two to me. I’ll make sure they get out safely.” Hude Lou turned smartly on his heel and started urging Archie and Oliver to the exit. He tilted his head back to Fossanova. “What about you?” he asked.

Archie and Oliver each grabbed one of Fossanova’s hands. “Let’s go,” the former urged. “We need to evacuate the patients and students as soon as possible.”

“I... I can’t.”

“Huh?”

“I have to see for myself... just what exactly is going on down here. I have a duty to the countless innocent patients I offered up to him... on the pretext of saving my father.” Fossanova raised his head and removed their hands from his wrists. “I will go with them.” His face remained pale, but his eyes shone with renewed determination.

“You’re just going to be in the way if you do, you realize that, right?” Hude Lou with deliberate sharpness.

“... I know,” Fossanova replied with a nod. “Archie. Oliver. Now that I know you’re both safe, I no longer need to run away. It’s my responsibility to finally learn everything about what’s happening here, for my father, who I couldn’t save....” He slowly pulled away from his friends. “And for Daniel, who I killed.”

“Killed... you....” Clemens turned wide, unbelieving eyes on Fossanova. “You killed Daniel?”

Something in Fossanova’s bearing seemed to unfold. A weight on his mind had finally been lifted. “Yes, sir,” he replied, ever the good student answering a question from his teacher. “I killed him. But this nightmare started long before that.”

For the first time, Fossanova spoke lightly, without any trace of deception. The director was finally being completely honest. “Daniel, Archie Oliver, and myself were studying Asclepius’ healing techniques in secret, so my father... so the previous director wouldn’t find out. We all had the same dream: we wanted to combine the three factions into one and build a new institute of our own. We swore an oath to make that dream a reality in the hidden room below the altar. That room was our special place.... Back then, every day was fulfilling... and we were happy.” Fossanova raised his head, a yearning, far-off cast in his eyes. “But the day he appeared before my father... the day the winged one said to have created the institute – no, the Gefinesse Faith as a whole – the day he came calling, the nightmare began.”

“... The winged one,” Clemens murmured.

“Yes. He told my father he wanted him to gather all the patients with the Black Rose Disease. My father believed it was to further the development of a treatment plan and happily agreed, at first. But one day, he said it was ‘all wrong,’ and he withered away before my eyes. He never once told me what he learned or what he saw, but he would sometimes express regret. ‘Those hellish deeds were horrifying beyond measure,’ he would say. And finally, my cornered father said he couldn’t take it anymore. ‘I’m going to suggest that he leave this place,’ he told me, and then he made me the director and vanished without a trace.”

“So ever since that day, you had no idea where he was?”

“Yes. After my father went missing, the winged one appeared before me, told me the terrible truth, and said, ‘If you wish to atone for your father’s sins, take over his work. If you gather enough patients for me, I’ll restore your father’s mind and return him to you.’ Daniel was always concerned for me after I took over the disordered Lapertes faction. I can’t tell you how much his kindness kept me going. But then he found out about all the patients going missing, and how I was the one handling all their charts and death certificates.” Fossanova clenched his shaking hands. “That night, Daniel called me out beyond the rampart walls, where no one was around. I often listened to his woes there, back when we were students, so I imagine he intended to listen to mine. But I couldn’t say anything. I couldn’t. We ended up arguing, and I turned to run away from him, and he tried to follow me, and he... and he....” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “Lightning struck, and he fell off the cliff....” A thin whistling sound emanated from his throat as his breathing stuttered, momentarily falling into a panic as he relived the horrific memory of that night. He took a few moments to get his breathing back under control, taking a few shallow lungfuls of air before he bowed his head and uttered once more, “I killed him....”

“But that was just an accident!” Archie shouted. “You didn’t shove him off the cliff!” Oliver nodded along.

Fossanova, however, shook his head. “The winged one saw our back and forth. He didn’t want to lose me, his recently acquired ‘toy,’ so he killed Daniel. Then he told me, ‘Archie and Oliver are also trying to expose your sins. They’re nuisances. So I had them locked away somewhere. I’ll kill them shortly.’ I begged him not to, and he just laughed. ‘You want to save them, even though you know they’ll blame you?’ he said. I said yes, of course, and he proposed a game. If I won, he’d return the two of you... and he would stop gathering patients, too.”

“A game?”

“... To try and find you two before the fourth incident ended.”

“Fourth... incident...?” Owl’s eyes lit up. “You don’t mean the four who died...!”

The first, the message by the first body had said. Fossanova nodded quietly. “Guinea pigs sacrificed for the game,” he said.

Owl sucked in a breath.

“I asked Mr. Clemens here to help me win. I had him look for Archie and Oliver and made him think they killed Daniel. But I was wrong. If I had just confessed sooner...! If I’d refused to play his game and headed straight for him... maybe those four people wouldn’t have had to be sacrificed...!”

“Fossanova, that’s....”

“I killed them...!!” Fossanova clasped his hands in front of his chest as if in prayer, begging forgiveness. “All because I was weak. I knew my father did exactly as he was told, and he couldn’t stop him, and I, too, followed his orders out of fear for my life. Everything that’s happened is my fault.”

Clemens reached out and gently grasped his hands. “If you’ve realized that, Fossanova, you have a chance to start over. Instead of exposing yourself to danger down here, what if you left and properly atoned for your sins?” He nudged Fossanova toward the exit.

The director would not be swayed, though. “I’m going, too,” he insisted, straightening up and turning toward the path heading further into the depths. “My sins can only be absolved with his death.”

“Well, you’ve certainly got resolve, I’ll grant you that.” Hude Lou whipped out a card. “But you’d be better off leaving things to Owl and his entourage. Come here.”

“Huh?”

Fossanova turned back just in time for the card to burst in his face. The director fell forward, out for the count, and it was only Hude Lou’s quick reflexes that stopped him from cracking his skull on the stones. The thief hefted Fossanova up onto his shoulders. “It’d weight on your conscience if he died on you down here,” he reasoned. “That’s that, then. See you around, Owl.” He whipped around and walked away with the others, leaving Owl and Clemens by themselves in the corridor.

Owl watched them leave for a while, then took a deep breath and faced the darkness head on. “Let’s go,” he said.

original written by Nagaya Kawaji here

[darklordofthesimp]

Verity II (Din Djarin x Reader)

Since your last encounter with the truth pollen, Din had been avoiding you. However, in a risky attempt to harvest the pollen for later use, The Mandalorian was now under its spell and at your mercy.

PART 1

Requested by Anon: #75 Nothing will ever compare to the way I feel about you.

Tag List: @eclipsedplanet @sanscas @iccedays @buttermybiscuits @that-girl-named-alex @rain-and-a-nice-nap @bruxasolta @princesscy4rika

A/N: I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK I'VE JUST WRITTEN.

Rating: 16+

Category: Truth Pollen - Angst - Mutual Pining

Warnings: Swearing - Suggestive Themes - Non-graphic Descriptions of Sex

You awoke to a muffled yell.

It was distant but it might as well have been right beside you. The distinct sound of Din's voice was unmistakeable and you were almost trained to listen out for it. At times, your life had depended on it.

This time, though, you were just glad to hear him.

You opened your chamber doors with a press of a button, crisp air striking straight through your skin. This forsaken planet had a bipolar division of temperature, it was either searing hot and you felt like you were being roasted, or it was so cold you couldn't feel your feet on the best of days.

This seemed normal for most planets, but usually it was seasonal, not a day by day change.

"Dank farrik!"

You bolted upright into a seated position and slipped on your boots, afternoon nap long forgotten. The Mandalorian had been gone for hours and you knew he was not searching for the bounty- half of his arsenal was still in the ship.

Wrapping your coat tight across your body, you ventured outside. The hunter was half hanging from an opened panel beneath the wing, a hilarious sight in itself. You couldn't help the snort that ripped from your throat, those dangling boots swaying furiously from his efforts.

The metallic clang from within the hull told you that he had no idea what he was doing and you cringed at the damage control you'd have to launch later.

"What are you doing?" You asked, loud enough to carry through the sounds of metal confusion.

There was another clang as he promptly pulled himself from his 'work' and a grunt to pair with it. Din stood to his full height, brushing his gloves against his thighs.

"I'm trying to change the oil." He said plainly.

You raised your brows, watching as his fingers twitched anxiously. "You know that's why I'm here, right? Your mechanic?"

"Yes," he acknowledged, his tone strict.

Blinking at him, you leaned back on your heels and the pair of you stared at each other, tension building to a thick peak. The hunter let the silence carry, seemingly happy to just watch you, but you ground your teeth.

Things had been awkward, to say the least. Since your encounter with that damned pollen, your companion had done his best to ignore you. It was like he'd regretted that entire ordeal.

You'd be lying if you said that it didn't hurt.

"Why didn't you ask me to do it?" You asked calmly, breathing softly through your nose to center yourself.

The hunter swayed gently as if he wanted nothing more than to leave. He clenched his fists tightly before he spoke.

"I was avoiding you."

You stared at him. There was no elaboration, no explanation as to why, just four words to confirm the fears plaguing your thoughts.

Your chest squeezed, constricting your pathetic, hurting heart to the point of suffocation. You felt stupid, you should have known that it was an impossible situation. The Mandalorian would never involve himself with you beyond an occasional slip of judgement, and that's what you were to him: a moment of weakness. His brutal candour was unexpected but you supposed it was on brand for the hunter.

"Oh," you breathed, hating how broken the word sounded.

When you received no response, you turned on your heels. The familiar tingle across your cheeks and nose alerted you to the tears gathering along your lashes.

The crunch of the frozen grass beneath your feet was deafening, accompanied by the roar of blood rushing to your head. Hot embarrassment flooded your body and snaked its way down your spine.

You were a fool.

"Wait."

You didn't stop walking.

You didn't stop when you heard his steps behind you, you didn't stop when he said it again and you sure as hell didn't stop when you got inside.

Only when you heard the hiss of your chamber door closing behind you, did you finally stand still.

You didn't want to see him anymore, the irrational part of you was already making plans to bail at the next planet. He was a talented man, someone you had always admired from your place as his employee, then as a friend.

But you had always thought he was honest, and the way he was acting now was a clear contrast to that stupid fucking night. You wished it had never happened, you wished you had never even met him. Most of all, if you were being honest, you wished you had never said yes.

"Do you want me to kiss you?"

"Yes."

You only had yourself to blame- and that Maker damned pollen.

A sharp knock resounded throughout your small room and you jumped despite yourself.

"Please," the words were muffled by the durasteel standing guard. "Let me explain."

You bit your tongue, a small and hopeful part of you hoping that he would leave if you didn't respond. Though, you knew better.

The Mandalorian was nothing if not persistent, it's what made him a good bounty hunter. You couldn't hide from him forever.

Reaching for the button, you hesitated, fingers hovering shakily.

Did you really want to go through this again? Did you really want to let him in your room? There was nowhere to hide, nowhere to storm off to, you were vulnerable.

"Please," he said again, as if he could see your apprehension. He knew you through and through. "I want to talk."

You bit your lip and pressed the button, stepping back as the door opened to reveal Din. He stood tall, shoulders squared but his hands were raised chest height, surrendering.

"What do you want?" You snapped, crossing your arms over your chest. You weren't going to wait for the silence, you weren't going to let the situation intimidate you.

Din groaned, a sound that had your brows shooting up.

"You." He said strained, shaking his head roughly. "I want you. But I'm here to explain myself."

"What is your problem?" You threw your hands upward, frustratedly, "why are you being like this?"

"I'm like this," he growled, staring down at you through the visor, "because I can't lie."

You stared at him, mouth agape. "You-"

"Don't talk," the hunter commanded, stepping into the room and herding you further away from the door. "Don't ask questions."

There was a heavy silence as he loomed between you and the exit. He kept a respectable distance, fingers twitching anxiously against his thighs before he finally rested his hands on his hips.

The pollen.

That's where he'd been all this time, it's why he had made a point of avoiding you completely since he'd returned. You supposed it was smarter to hide than to be in a position that you knew all too well.

The Mandalorian huffed, shaking his head, as though he were fighting his own thoughts. You remembered the feeling. He was becoming agitated, though you couldn't tell whether it was at you or himself.

"Well?" You prompted impatiently."

"You infuriate me," he said instantly, voice hard. It was as if your voice had triggered him into speaking. "You don't listen, you don't follow orders, you're a danger to yourself and I worry about you at every waking moment."

"Excuse me-" You snarled, stepping forward. The Mandalorian raised his hand, finger pointed at you with the silent order of 'shut up'.

"You question everything I say," he continued, chest heaving beneath the weight of his wrath, "and you make me irrational."

"Why not fire me then?" You seethed, hot anger flushing through your system. "Why kiss me if you knew you were just going to fucking regret it?"

Before you could register his movement, the door to the room hissed shut, trapping you in the dark with a furious hunter.

Your heart pounded between your ribs, and your wrath guttered to a small ember. You were blind, draped in absolute darkness and left with nothing but your remaining senses.

"I'd never fire you because you're the best at what you do," the words were a soft rasp, close above you. You exhaled shakily, forcing yourself to stay still as he continued talking. "I kissed you because nothing will ever compare to the way I feel about you."

You swayed forward. His helmet was off, you could tell by the rawness of his voice, the humanity of it. A soft, husky rasp that curled deep within your core and fogged your senses, leaving you dazed by every word.

"Do you regret it?" You whispered, barely able to hear your own voice. A warm hand brushed against the skin of your cheek, leaving you trembling in place.

"No," he murmured simply.

"Do you think about kissing me often?" You blurted, unable to stop the words from rolling off your tongue.

There was a surprised huff from the hunter that sent butterflies skittering across your stomach.

"Yes," he said, the tone hesitant but the statement strong.

You stared up into the darkness, hoping that your sights would fall upon his face and that he'd know that you saw him. Not physically, but you saw Din. Every flaw, every strength, every time he'd get scared, you knew him through and through- just as well as he knew you.

"You're sloppy," you murmured lowly, "you've just trapped yourself in a room with me. I could ask you so many questions."

There was a silence, not uncomfortable but contemplative. He was thinking of what to say, the statement was open ended. You were giving him the option to bail, to leave and not speak on things that he didn't want to talk about.

Instead, you heard him shift. His fingers lightly brushed against the length of your neck and there was a soft pressure against your shoulder that pushed you backward. The cold durasteel pressed against the skin of your back.

"Are you sure that I'm the one that's trapped?" Din questioned softly, letting his fingers trail along your arms.

"A hunter to the very end," you rolled your eyes with a snort; but your heart was thrashing wildly between your ribs.

There was a small chuckle but his breath was shaky. You came to a startling realization that this was uncharted waters for the both of you, and he was at risk of losing the most if this went wrong.

"Are you nervous?" You asked.

"Yes."

You smiled softly.

"What do you want to do from here?" You queried, letting your own hands rest against his vambraces tentatively. Despite his vulnerability, you'd let him take the reigns. He was frustrated, he was worried, it was a difficult situation to be in. "What do you want, Din?"

"I want-" Din blurted, and his hands retracted from your body instantly. The words choked as he stepped backward, out of your hold and away from your touch.

Maybe that question hadn't been the right one.

He didn't want to speak. You could sense the anxiety rise within the room, hear his fingers slip over his helmet as he reached for it. He was trying to leave before he let words that he could never retract fall into the space between you.

"What do you want, Din?" You asserted, stepping into his space once more.

"I want to kiss you," he snarled and you heard his hand slap over his mouth hard.

"Oh," you leaned back on your heels, stupefied by his reaction. "Is that all?"

You were confused by his flailing panic, the both of you had already established that you wanted to kiss multiple times prior. It was strange that he'd thought it to be such taboo now of all times.

"No," he strained. "That's not all. Not even close."

"Well, what else?" You raised an inquisitive brow, hand on your hip as you looked out into the darkness.

The silence was only short, but it was long enough to startle you when it ended. Hands gripped your shoulders firmly, walking you right back against the wall you had both drifted from. The air left your lungs softly as he pressed you against it, hot mouth against your ear with a heated snarl.

"Is this payback?" He said heatedly, thighs pressed against yours.

"No!" You gasped, chest heaving against his.

"Fucking feels like it," Din growled fiercely and it rattled your bones. "You want me to answer your questions? Fine."

Your eyes were wide and unseeing, you could feel his lips moving against the skin between your cheek and your ear, breath whispering along the length of your neck.

"I want to drag you from this room and into my bed," he snarled, fingers digging into the skin of your arms. "I want to show you how dishonorable I can be. I want to touch you in all the places that I've imagined and I want you to see me- to actually see me. To know me."

"So," you whispered, "you just want to bed me, is that it Din? You're angry at me because you want to fuck me?"

There was a dark chuckle as he pressed the bridge of his nose to your face hard, breathing you in as he shook his head.

"Of course, I want to fuck you, Cyar'ika." Din rasped. "I'm angry because I want more than that."

"What more is there?" You murmured, turning your face towards his. You could taste him without even touching him, his mouth a hair from yours.

"I want you to be mine," Din said firmly and the words caressed your lips. "I want you forever, what I want from you is here."

His hand pressed against your chest and your heart thrummed beneath his palm.

Your core tightened as well as your lungs.

You wanted him.

It was so hard to breathe, all you could smell was him, taste him, feel him, want him. Nothing mattered but him, your body wanted to trial his, befriend his soul, you were stuck in orbit and his pull was irresistible.

But this could turn to heartbreak in an instant.

Your breath shuddered as you worked the courage to speak. He was waiting, thigh pressed between your legs and fingers gripping your skin. You wanted him everywhere. Mind, body and soul you were drunk on him.

"Do you love me?" You whispered against his lips, anxiety riding the trail of your spine. It was cold but you trembled for other reasons when he pressed his mouth against the corner of yours briefly.

"I loved you before you knew my name," Din's laugh was breathless, but you could feel the tremor of his body. "I've loved you since you stayed, when I went back for Grogu you didn't question it."

You nodded and your affirmation was watery at best, "of course."

"Of course," he mocked you quietly, pressing his lips against yours. "Of course."

He kissed you slowly, shallow at first, letting you crave the taste of him for a long moment. You wanted more and he knew how to draw the silent confession from you, smiling against your mouth when you gripped him tightly.

Only then did he deepen, tongue trailing your bottom lip teasingly. Warm fingers tangled into your hair, palm resting against your cheek as he pressed you further into the wall. There was nowhere to go, trapped between him and the unyielding metal of the ship you were overpowered by his essence.

The sheer size of a man that was built to kill was unfathomable, holding you in his hands with a softness you would never have thought possible of him. But the bounty hunter was masterful and deft with his fingers and senses, and when he led you to your bed in the dark with a grin you could taste, you finally understood.

You truly learnt how sinfully dishonourable the Mandalorian could be. As he murmured sweet nothings, they tasted even better because you knew they were true.

When he whispered how long he'd waited to feel you, how your body felt better than he ever could have imagined, you smiled. Din groaned his worship along every inch of your skin and when he finally took you as his, his growls of appreciation pushed you to the edge. Every word, every whisper against your skin, claiming you as his, sent you spiraling into a drunken stupor.

You believed every broken sentence to fall from his lips as his body moved above yours.

After all, Din couldn't lie.

[buckybarnesdiaries]

a piece of cake

© @jamesbrnes

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Something happens at Shuri's birthday party that leads to a heated fight.

word count: 3k words. (fuck, it worth every damn word)

warnings/tags: nsfw, +18!!! angry jealous sex, let's start there. unprotected sex, oral sex (face fucking and ridding), fingering, brief daddy!kink, brief praise!kink, language, cursing, handcuffing, mention of bodily fluids, and probably i'm forgetting something else, i just lost my mind. bucky being the cutest and loving man on earth at the end.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

join the tag list here.

You had never been so quiet, but you knew that opening your mouth only could cause a storm inside the car, on your way back home. Believing you could have a pinch of luck, Bucky wouldn't notice that something was raving you mad since the moment you watched him letting another woman give him a spoon of cake. Straight to his mouth. You almost choked on your drink, talking to Shuri about how excited she was to celebrate her birthday in New York, when you witnessed the scene hearing their laughs and watching how they dared to touch his metal arm constantly. Your boyfriend was talking with some of his old friends from Wakanda, not even knowing he made friends there. He never said a word about it. Even so, they didn't have the right to flirt with him. Unless he didn't say anything about you.

But Bucky wasn't stupid. Or at least, not like you thought. Gazing you by the corners of his blue eyes, he was conscious that something was going wrong. He licked his upper lip briefly, slowly. He tasted the waters putting a hand on your thigh, which was your favorite gesture while he was driving, deriving with your fingers laced and him placing kisses on the back of your hand. But you didn't move an inch, still staring through the copilot's window with your elbow nailed there and your chin resting on your knuckles.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing”.

Your passive tone and the lie as a response caused him to frown, pulling over the car to focus on you. He turned on his seat and placed a hand behind the headrest of yours.

“Spit it”.

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow ironically, looking at him for a second. If he had to ask it was because he wasn't really seeing the dilemma there.

“I'm just tired and I wanna go home, James. That's all”.

James. James. You did it unconsciously, but he didn't take it as an innocent manner of calling him. Unexpressive, the soldier joined the highway driving faster than he used to. You had pissed him off, but it wasn't your problem. He had hurt your feelings with something he didn't give any importance to. The only thing you wanted was to take a shower, put on your comfier pajamas and go to sleep, probably you'd see tomorrow that situation differently than today and you could move on from your insecurities and the jealousy running through your veins.

You arrived at your apartment in record time, keeping the car inside the parking under the building. You removed the seat belt to wear your leather jacket and grab your purse on your feet, stepping out when you were ready. But Bucky stayed inside, just turning off the engine. He didn't have any intention of leaving it, maintaining his hands tightly gripped around the wheel. You ignored him as soon as you couldn't pretend you were just tired anymore. It was the first time something like that happened and you were having a strong desire to throw your guts up.

Three minutes later you were under the warm water with your forehead resting against the cold wall and your eyes closed. Maybe you were overreacting and the rational, mature behavior would be to go to talk with him, tell your boyfriend what made you feel upset. Sighing as you nodded two times, determined to put the cards on the table, you shut off the faucet and walked out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel.

“Oh, fucking hell!” You growled because of the scare of your life when you found Bucky already in your shared room.

He had his back supported on the wall, a leg flexed, and his hands behind himself. No expression on his face, but expecting an explanation from you. You were hoping for something from him too, maybe I don't know what I've done to make you feel like that, can you give me a clue? He just stared at you in silence, drying the pearls of water decorating your body before wearing a pair of black panties and your forgotten pajamas instead of one of his t-shirts impregnated on his scent.

“Com'ere”. Bucky whispered, stretching his flesh hand on air when you were about to go to sleep.

“No”.

Well, that wasn't the proper way to talk like grown adults. You crossed both arms on your chest, standing next to your side of the bed.

“What'd you say?” He squinted incredulous, slowly standing from the wall, pretending you hadn't uttered that word.

“I said no, you fucking punk”.

“The hell d'you think you're talking to, darling?”

“To the cretin who let other women flirt and touch him”. You replied with evident annoyance. “Why don't you go to show them your daddy's skills, uh? Sure I can find someone who respects me in the meantime”.

Suddenly, a grimace you hadn't seen before on him appeared like a thunderbolt. You weren't sure if you just made him feel more furious or if you just broke his heart. But before you could figure it out, Bucky shorted the distance between both in two fast strides and his hands gripped your throat and the back of your neck respectively, pinning you to the closest wall and tossing the lamp on your nightstand to the floor. You complained slightly —with his tongue wildly invading your mouth— because of the strength he used to put you against the wall.

You tried to push him away, to not fall into his charmings, but he made your mind blank when his fingers were firmly nailed in your ass and his body was accommodated between your legs. Your fiery provoked a bulge under his pants so painful that in every rock against your core he wasn't sure if it hurt or if it was some kind of pleasure he couldn't handle. Out of breath, Bucky attacked your neck, digging his teeth in your neck with so much passion that you screamed delighted his full name while pulling his hair. That gesture drove him insane, losing the less sanity he had at that point. With just a push, your boyfriend ripped off your shirt to strip you, in anticipation of your panties suffering the same fate.

Bucky threw you to the mattress on your abdomen, perfectly positioned to what was about to happen. He was so eager, so desperate for showing you what he was feeling that he didn't lose time taking off his clothes, just undoing his belt and unzipping his jeans to pull them down to his ankles along his boxers. You heard him spitting in his hand to use it as lube, although you were sufficiently soaked and ready for your Buck that neither of you needed his saliva. He rammed his dolorous erection into your cunt, crashing his pelvis and pressing it against your ass with all his strength, causing you to drown a loud cry in the sheets.

Tangling his fingers with yours and lacing your arms around your neck, putting all his weight onto your back, Bucky pounded you with an insanely quick rhythm, not giving you any chance to mold your throbbing walls around his length. Your pleased vocals echoed inside your room in total sync with the hits to your g-spot. Your body received with every one of them soft cramps mixed with pain and pleasure, making you roll your eyes and tear your throat.

“'S that wh— what you wanted, uh?” Bucky snarled against the back of your neck, totally gone, not giving you a break or showing any mercy.

“Fuck, no…” You replied, challenging him.

He swallowed a rough moan, wrapping his cold fingers around your throat while using the other to pull back your hair and arch your body. “Don' fucking… lie to me, doll… You wan— wanted your daddy to make you… feel desired over tho— those women”.

And yes, he was right. More or less. But you didn't expect him to react like that. Bucky was rabidly fucking you, moving the bed from its position with every angry thrust into your pussy. You knew you weren't going to last for too long if he continued impaling you against the mattress, just like that. But you both had to recognize that it was the best session of sex of your life.

“You were… fucking mad watch— watching 'em touch my arm… your arm, right?”

You whined at the brutality he used to push his hard cock beyond your limits, holding it there as he tilted your head to crash his lips on yours. Bucky devoured them until they were shiny, swollen, slightly ached because of the bit he left on your bottom one.

“If you don't tell me… the truth… I swear I'm not gonna let you come”. The whisper fell into your ear with such a raspy tone of voice, conscious of him being very capable.

“It was… your fucking fault, James. Not… Not mine”. You grunted, feeling him going a little deeper. “I di— didn't let anybody flirt with me… as if you didn't exist”.

That was the truth, but the wrong answer for him. Suddenly, Bucky pulled out his dick covered in your arousal, freeing you from any grip. A pause that only lasted the time he took to grab the handcuffs from your nightstand to place them in your wrists and secure them around the headboard. Now you were under his total control, defying him by strongly closing your legs and frowning at him, panting and sweating.

“Lemme tell you something”. Your boyfriend said, dangerously crawling over the bed till reaching your knees and forcing them to be separated, wide spread for him. “If you think I was flirting, but you didn't see… how uncomfortable I was… This situation is not my fault”.

The tables were turned as he finished his sentence, settling himself between your legs yet kneeling to raise your ass above his lap. “Not so mouthy now, are you, doll?”

You wanted to speak back, to say something after having a second to reconsider the reason why you were so angrier at him when Bucky pushed you down and rammed his dick back to the place it belonged. You forced unconsciously your hands gripped, wanting to put them on him —wherever—. As soon as he handcuffed you, your desire for touching him used to be suffocating. But you were the one who played from the start, instead of telling him how you were feeling about that situation at Shuri's party.

Bucky didn't even let you kiss him, stabilizing you on top with an arm around your waist and his cold hand holding the back of your head. His hips rocked straight to your g-spot once and once, making you lose any kind of control over your body as your boyfriend didn't have any compassion, needing to find relief to his sorrowful erection by cumming inside your clenching walls. You were driving him crazy, maintaining your eye contact at all moments and almost drinking your delighted, obscene crying, aware that only him could cause you to be so dirty.

“Feels good, uh…? You like it?” Your boyfriend brushed your lips with his, depriving you of his kisses or any other touch. “Bec— 'cause you take your daddy... so damn good, baby girl… So tight… so tight you could kill me”.

“Yes, da— daddy”. You whimpered nodding your head. “Only you… can fuck me li— like that… Only you”.

“That's it… that's it, oh, fuck… fuck, doll”.

You saw him roll that pair of beautiful blue eyes to the back of his head, feeling Bucky's thighs tensing under your legs. You didn't want anything else than making him cum, after overthinking about how he felt, and not about what you witnessed. He was right, more or less. He was still being so innocent in those kinds of situations that he used to feel like a scared kid.

You suddenly fell back to reality when the emptiness sensation invaded you. Bucky pulled out his length from you again, causing you to beg in silence for not denying you the orgasm you were about to reach. But he warned you. Bucky asked you to tell him the truth and you chose to challenge him. Letting you sit on the mattress, he flexed a leg to guide his twitching cock to your mouth, not needing to tell you what he wanted you to do. You just parted your lips, receiving him without protesting, curling your fingers when he forced your limits, and positioned both hands on your head. Twirling your tongue around his base as you could, with your cavity completely invaded, Bucky provoked you a strong gag. A gesture that led to his warm seed being spilled down your throat.

“Fuck my life, baby girl!” He couldn't help but howl driven by the pleasure as you coughed and made vibrate his sensitive skin.

Just holding his dick trapped by your lips for a second, he freed your mouth, taking his time to admire you swallowing his cum and showing afterward your tongue. God, you looked so beautiful disheveled, with teary eyes and swollen lips because of the effort.

“Want me to tell you something else?” Bucky asked while cleaning the sweat in his forehead with the back of his arm, taking the small key to liberating you with his free hand.

You didn't reply, not needing to, as he rubbed your wrists to comfort your skin before lying by your side.

“Com'ere”. He whispered, yet trying to recover your breathings. Bucky wrapped you with his flesh arm, rubbing his iron fingers up and down your tense belly, creating a contrast that caused you goosebumps. “'M so sorry for making you feel like that”.

He kissed you. Slowly, passionate, tasting his own juices mixed with your saliva. Caressing your tongue with the tip of his, and no rush. You felt his digits touring down your skin, till finding your throbbing and needed clit. You weren't able to hold back a sweet moan when he circled his fingertip over your sensible pearl, gladly drinking your vocals.

“When I wanted to react… she was putting that damn spoon into my mouth. It felt horrible, doll, I promise”. He murmured, venturing his long cold finger to part your folds and sink it inside you —moaning at the fulfill sensation—. “You always save me from those awkward situations… but you were having fun with Shuri and I didn't want to interrupt you”.

You were feeling like shit, looking at him through your eyelids as he curved a second finger into your cunt and increased the pace of the pounds with his hand made of vibranium. Bucky spread some gentle kisses all around your face, ending with a tender bite to your lips.

“When you told me you wanted to go home, I felt a huge relief… 'Cause that was everything I wanted. Go home with you. Maybe watch a movie… cuddle… fall asleep on the sofa”.

“Oh, God, Bucky”. You wept onto his mouth, as soon as a third finger filled you, nailing his hand in the perfect position to be moved up and down. “I'm so— sorry, Buck… I'm sorry”.

“Fuck, no”. He let out, thrusting you harder, faster, creating a melody of filthy sloppy sounds while your moans were louder and louder. “I should stop 'em, I didn't… I didn't. But I respect you more than anything, doll… I love you with all my heart. I care 'bout you, 'bout your feelings… Can you forgive me? Can you… Can you cum for me?”

You nodded your head running out of words, seeing your boyfriend snaking his body down the bed to between your shaky legs, yet having his fingers knuckles deep inside you. “Keep 'em open for your man”.

The blow to your abused cunt provoked you a lash up to your backbone, landing your hands on his head as Bucky sank his face straight to your center. His digits fucked you savagely, while his tongue took control of your swollen pearl —sucking, licking, kissing, pulling it back—. He wasn't going to deny that pleasure to you, quite the opposite. You pressed unconsciously his face a little closer to your pussy, swinging your hips and riding his mouth when his caresses and his pushes became too much for you.

Bucky made you cum harder than ever, crying his name till you didn't have any strength and you were just a sack of bones under his expert mouth, devouring you and drinking your juices as if it was the elixir of life. And when he was satiated, you glanced at him using the tip of his tongue to trail a path up crossing your abdomen, the gap between your breasts, your throat, until kissing you again getting comfortable on top of you. It was a kiss full of love, and guiltiness, and necessity, and pure devotion for you.

“Did I hurt you with what I said?” You murmured, still enraptured by the fireworks fluttering within your belly.

“This isn't 'bout me”. Bucky clicked his tongue, hiding his face into your sweaty neck. “This is 'bout what I let happen”.

“That doesn't answer my question, Buck… I'm sorry about what I said. I was just… I feel insecure". You confessed stroking his scalp and back with your hands, lacing your legs together. “I didn't mean it. I would never try to… find someone who respects me more than you do. That's impossible. And not talking about how much you love me”.

“I love you with every inch of myself”. He swore, he promised, raising his face to look straight at your eyes. “I can't imagine a life without you”.

“Me either… Your love makes me feel alive”.

Bucky left one last tender kiss on your lips before suddenly standing up and holding you onto his arms to carry you to the bathroom and take a shower together —wash your hair, worship your body again as if it was the last thing he was going to do—.

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[finelinevogue]

he’s so vogue

Description - you are the journalist for the new Harry Styles December Vogue Issue

A/N - how is everyone doing? hope you enjoy! if you have any requests please feel free to ask. love you all and have a lovely rest of the week!

warnings: swearing

[masterlist]

Being a journalist for Vogue was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.

After 3 years of studying English Literature at Surrey University, you never thought, only a year after, you'd be working as an apprentice at Vogue UK. If it weren't for your Aunty, who worked in the fashion design section at Vogue HQ, then you'd no doubt still be a broke-ass, single, lonely student. Ok, lonely you still were but your job was so full-on that you didn't have time for a relationship.

Two years into your apprenticeship you were promoted to an official member of the team, and then another two years later you got promoted to team leader in your department of journalism, and editing; The Media - or as you like to call it - "The Celeb Goss". You were beyond happy with your job and found such passion in every article your wrote. Whether it be about a new celebrity romance or the collapse of one, you found a way to story-tell in such a meditated way that everyone loved your pieces.

That's why the Harry Styles had requested you to be the one to interview him.

Of course you'd written about A-list celebrities in the past, producing articles on pregnancy rumours, or engagements, or breakups, but you'd never met them before authoring an article. You'd met plenty of D-list celebrities who thought they were mega famous, but if you mentioned their names people would turn around and ask "who?".

This is why interviewing Harry Styles was a massive thing for you.

Not very often did you get to do work out in the field, especially in these covid infested days, but nevertheless it was your favourite part of the job. Getting to meet the people you were writing about was completely refreshing, allowing you to obtain a clearer outlook on which direction to take on your journal piece.

You were asked to go to Stonehenge, where the photoshoot was being filmed, as your office of interview. Even though you'd lived in the UK all your life, you'd never actually been to Stonehenge. It wasn't really on your bucket-list, but it was a pleasure to get to see it all the same.

Being the prepared interviewer you were, you'd prepared an array of questions that you were set on asking Harry. You'd never met him before, but after much googling and youtubing of him prior to meeting him today you would already be confident in saying he's the most brilliant man to ever exist. You were really nervous that you were going to screw this interview up and make a terrible mess in front of Harry Styles.

"Lisa! What if I accidentally say something I shouldn't?" You ran your stressed hands through your hair.

This whole morning had been frantic. It had started off by you waking up late, no thanks to Lisa, your best-friend and co-worker, pressing snooze on the alarm. You wanted to look professional today so you'd put on your best shirt - only to spill coffee down it ten minutes later. So now, you smelt of coffee and were wearing what was left in your wardrobe - and it wasn't much. The only things left clean were a pair of pink corduroy flares and some, pastel coloured, graphic t-shirt to go with it.    

"You won't. Stop being so negative." Lisa rolled her eyes, probably fed up with the amount of winging she'd heard from you this morning - and you'd only been awake an hour.

"My outfit is hardly professional either." You huffed, pouring the rest of your, second, coffee down the drain.

"Well I think you look gorgeous." Lisa stated, whilst putting her breakfast bar wrapper in the bin.

You and Lisa were back and forth about you stressing, and such, for about half an hour before you had to leave. You had a great panic about losing your glasses too. You could see without them up close, but for long distance viewing and reading you were practically blind. You were taking Lisa's car, since she didn't think you were emotionally stable enough to drive. Lisa was the creative director on the set, and thank goodness she was so you could at least ramble to someone.

After a two hour drive up from London, you arrived at Stonehenge and it was freezing. Although the sun was out, it did nothing to keep your body heated. The journey up had been nice because you sat in your nicely heated car, chatting away with Lisa and blasting some Harry Styles out of the speaker. You'd made it through the first album, and the second one up to Canyon Moon before reaching your destination.

Upon arriving you could just about, without glasses, make out about 15 other cars, arranged at the bottom of a hill. There was an array of Audis and BMWs, a few Range Rovers, which you placed your bets on one was Harrys, and a green, vintage, Jaguar which was most likely belonging to the fashion editor or something. There was also a modern barn, perched at the foot of the hill, which was where Harry would be getting changed in to his various different outfits.

It took you a moment to register that Lisa had parked and was already clambering out of the car, making you look a little idiotic still blankly staring at the beautiful scenes in front, and around, of you.

But it was still bloody freezing.

You jogged a little to the boot and whipped out your white cardigan. Originally you'd thought that this would've been enough to keep you warm, but now you were starting to think otherwise.

The atmosphere here was amazing. People were rushing around left, right and centre loading, and unloading, various pieces of equipment and clothes. You caught sight of brightly coloured fabrics being carried to and from various places. There were the camera crew, and presumably director, all chatting amongst themselves. The smell of the very fresh air was so lush that you'd forgotten what it smelt like - especially after years in London.

You grabbed your bag from the boot, which had your notes, recording kit and laptop stuffed inside, before locking the car and following Lisa in to the barn.

It was lovely and warm inside - a completely different climate to than the outside. It was as if it was Bali inside and Antarctica outside. Better Bali than Antarctica though.

"Ok. Let's put our stuff down over here and then go find people we need to meet and such." Lisa instructed, you still too in awe of the place to fully comprehend what was going on.

You followed Lisa and you two ended up dropping off your stuff next to some other bags. You took a liking to the purse next to your stuff. Next to your bag, it made yours seem ancient - like it was worth nothing more than a penny. It was luscious and a beautiful baby blue colour. You softly ran your hands over it, finding satisfaction in how smooth and subtle it was.

"Hope you're not planning on stealing that, love." A manly voice appeared from behind you. You whipped around to see who's bag you'd been messing with, and it was just your luck that it was to be Harry Styles'. Of all the people's it could've been it had to be his. 

Perfect.

He looked dashing. He was in black flares and his iconic 'But daddy i love him', t-shirt, along with a huge green anorak. His hair was prettily clipped back with a pink clip, presumably placed there to gave his curls greater volume. In his hand he had a pink toothbrush and you guessed he'd come back over to put it away in his bag - only to find you caressing it instead.

"Oh - no, no. Not at all. I - uh - I just thought it was beautiful." You stammered over your words, choosing them carefully to try and make you look less like an active criminal.

"Mhm." Harry nodded whilst looking you up and down, most likely judging why a peasant like you, in comparison to him, was touching his expensive property. "Well, I love your flares darlin'." Harry looked down at your trousers, his compliment making you blush a little.

"Thank you. That wasn't professional, and neither is my outfit, I know, and I apologise." You added, because you knew that if your boss knew you turned up today the way you did she would give you a right bollocking - and potentially even fire you.

"Never apologise for flares. You look amazing." Gemma perked up, making you feel more self conscious surrounded by all these other beautiful women. Gemma was in a slouchy, knitted, jumper and basic jeans - no doubt all from shops beyond your budget - and yet she looked like a model fit for the runway for Vogue.

"Okay, sorry." You apologised again, to which you, creepily, got the exact same, stern, look from the Styles siblings at the same time.

"My stylist, Harry, introduced me to big pants. He offered whether I wanted to try a pair of flares, and I was like, 'Flares? That's fucking crazy'!" Harry laughed as he told his story, earning a laugh out of you too. "Now they're my favourite item of clothing. Have a whole wardrobe dedicated to them."

"I wish he was joking." Gemma laughed at her brother and his flare obsession.

"Well you do look handsome in them, so I understand why." Your words rolls off your tongue before you could even comprehend what you were saying. Only after you finished your sentence did you completely intake what you'd just said.

"Good start." Lisa giggled to you, before turning to walk over to the coffee station. It was a help-yourself coffee bar and you knew that you were going to bed at least five cups to get over the last five minutes alone. You'd probably drain the station before letting anyone else have any.

"Oh god." You awkwardly mumbled, not daring to see how weirdly Harry would be looking at you, before walking off outside.

You had spent less than 10 minutes here and yet you'd never felt like a bigger clown. Joining the circus had never been so easy.

The outside wind hit you like a powerful leaf blower, and your hair blew around like crazy - most likely compiling into a birds nest on the top of your head.

Today was supposed to be the start of something great. Your hopes were set on a promotion from your written masterpiece, whilst enjoying the company of one of the most handsome, most lovely, most talented men of this century. Those hopes seemed a little too distant now. They seemed to mock you, as if to laugh at how you ever thought you were going to be any more successful. You'd completely, in more ways than one, made a fool of yourself in front of your interviewee, you were so underdressed, you were caught fondling his Gucci purse and you were still bloody cold.

It all felt too unprofessional for a job where professional was practically the driving force of the company.

You leaned against the barn, taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself. You were a master in over-thinking, but unfortunately that wasn't something you could add to your resumé. You let your eyes close and the other senses come alive for a few moments. The sounds of distant sheep and the smell of the cold wind were just two of the senses that allowed you to take a step back for a minute, and breathe.

"Thank you." A voice interrupted you from your attempt of quick meditation. You looked to your left and noticed Harry standing there, still in the same outfit as before.

"I'm sorry?" You asked confused, taking a step away from the barn to considerately pay more attention to him.

"Thank you - for saying I look handsome in flares." He repeated, smirking when he added the second part.

"Oh." Was all you could respond, feeling too embarrassed to take the conversation any further. "I should—" You pointed back to the barn, using it as an excuse to leave before yet screwed up anymore.

"Lisa told me you're the interviewer." Harry added, and it only occurred to you that you'd never actually introduced yourself. "So it's lovely to finally meet you Y/N." He stuck out his hand for your to shake, which you did willingly. His hands were a lot softer than you'd expected.

"Ho... You know my name?" You asked surprised.

"Of course. I also know you're the best writer in Vogue right now." He flattered you, which made you blush. You had a feeling he'd make you do that a lot today.

"Sure." You rolled your eyes as you spoke sarcastically.

"Well I chose you for a reason, didn't I?" He rhetorically asked.

"I mean.. I, well.. I don't know?" You stumbled over your words, making yourself look like a larger fool than you did already. Today was just turning out to be exactly what you didn't want it to be. "Sorry."

"Stop apologising. You do it too often." He told you, nearly making you apologise again but he gave you a jokingly stern look, as if he knew what you were going to say, and so you decided otherwise.

"Harry!" You both turned to see there was a man waving towards you both, but specifically to Harry. "Come get changed!" The same man shouted. Harry lifted his thumbs up, as if to signal he'd be there shortly.

Harry turned back to you and noticed you shiver a little.

"I'll start the interview after I come back from the dressing rooms, yeah?" Harry asked, taking off his, khaki green, trench-coat in the process. He handed it to you before you could oblige against it.

"Wait what?" You confusedly looked down at the coat and back up to Harry.

"Gives me a piece of mind knowing my interviewer isn't going to die of hypothermia before actually interviewing me." He smiled, obviously attempting to crack a joke and you have to admit you did laugh.

"Thank you." You say, before he runs off to where he's being called to.

                                                            ••••

You'd been sat inside for a little while, waiting for Harry to come back. It gave you time to perfect your questions though.

Thinking up questions to ask Harry had been a challenging task, but one that you'd been fully invested in. You loved creating questions to ask him that were going to get to understand him on a deeper level. He was a very private man, and you completely respected that. If you crossed any boundaries, with the questions you'd ask, you would write them out of the interview. You liked to think you hadn't thought up a question that would make him feel uncomfortable though.

Pissing off Harry would be on another level of shame.

"Coat kept you warm?" Harrys voice disengaged you from your notebook.

"Hm?" You asked then replayed what he'd just asked in your mind. "Oh, yes. Thank you very much." You stood up, from where you'd been perched on the floor, picking up your nearly finished green tea as you did so.

Only when you stood up did it come to your realisation that Harry was now in costume. He was dressed in luxury. Each item looked like it cost more than your rent, and that was saddening. He looked rich and luxurious. To be quite honest, you were finding it rather difficult to take your eyes off him.

"You think the outfit is Vogue enough?" Harry asked, striking a few poses, which made you laugh. It was refreshing to see him act so relaxed and carefree, rather than a stuck-up-prick you knew some celebrities to be.

"Completely. I love it!" You exclaimed, appreciating the twirl he did for you.

He was wearing a kilt-like skirt and he looked beyond beautiful in it. Fuck toxic masculinity. Fuck being a manly man - like what does that even mean? Harry was embracing gender fluidity and experimenting the ways in which there was no definitive line between men and women's clothes anymore, and you thought it was marvellous. Revolutionary, for times as politically and socially troubled as these.

You started removing the coat in attempt to give it back to him, but he refrained you from doing so by holding on to your forearm.

"Keep it. I thought we could go outside to start the interview, so you'll be needing that." Harry told you, and you agreed - however reluctantly that was. You couldn't really complain though, because the coat did kept you warm and, what's better, it smelt divine - just like you'd imagine Harry to smell.

"Okay. Thank you. Do you want to go now?" You asked hesitantly, not knowing whether he was busy for someone else right now.

"Whenever you're ready, love." He answered, making you feel more relaxed. He was going at your pace and was making you feel settled - he was even more of a gentleman than people described him to be.

The two of you had walked around the backside of the barn in silence, enjoying the comfort of each other's presence. Well, at least you were. It was a blessing no one was back here. It was just you, Harry and the scenery that surrounded Stonehenge.

You approached a bench and you plopped yourself down on one end, whilst Harry sat on the other. He respected the fact that there was a pandemic going on, and didn't want to make you uncomfortable in any way. You still had your mask on, so Harry had taken that as you were very conscious about the virus - which he admired.

You pulled out your glasses, from the depths of one of the coat pockets, and placed them on your face, probably making yourself look even geekier than you already felt. Today was just one of those days you wished you had good eyes...

You opened your spent notebook, musty pages practically falling apart, and turned to the section of questions you needed for that interview. You were so nervous already and you hadn't even asked anything yet, all because of the previous interactions with Harry today. Your shaky hands shuffled through the pages and you cursed under your breath when you struggled to find what you needed.

"Shoot. Come on." You mumbled quietly under your breath, hoping it would make this terrible situation end faster. You mustn't have been as quiet as you thought though.

"Y/N." Harry's name broke through your clouded mind of self-disappointment.

You looked up at him to see him softly smiling at you, blowing all worries away from you away with the wind. "Yes?" You timidly asked, pushing your wind-swept hair out of glasses - where it'd gotten caught.

"You’re alright, love. You don't have to be professional around me, alright? We're just two strangers having a conversation, to get to know each other, okay?" If his words didn't calm you enough, the soothing sound of his husky voice certainly did.

"But that would mean you asking me stuff too?" You replied, confused at his implications of the phrasing 'getting to know each other'.

"Mhm." Harry nodded his head.

"Oh I don't know Mr Styles, i'm not a very interesting person." You answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, pushing your glasses back up the bridge of your nose from where they'd fallen.

"I refuse to believe that." Harry chuckled, making a quick smile appear on your face. "And please call me Harry. Just Harry." He begged, obviously finding it weird you calling him by his professional title. All you wanted, ever, was for your interviewee's to feel comfortable and safe, so if Harry wanted you to call him Harry then so be it.

"Ok, Harry," you sarcastically said, earning a shake of the head on his behalf, "you can ask me a few questions throughout the day." You told him, but you knew he'd struggle to find even two questions when he realises how bland you are.

"Does that mean you only get to ask me a few as well?" Harry smirked, already knowing the answer to that question. Unlike Harry, you had to write an article about today when you got home and so he knew that you'd have to dig as much dirt as possible from him.

"No, sorry. I don't particularly want to lose my job." You paused to look down at your notes, squinting a little as you did to see better. "Okay. Tell me your experience with corona virus."

"Sorry I didn't quite catch that, love." Harry apologised, leaning in slightly to see if he could hear you a second time around.

"Sorry." You looked down to fiddle with your fingers - a habit you'd undertaken when you're embarrassed. "Um..," you cleared your throat, "would you mind if I took off my mask?"

Your timid voice sent tingle down Harrys spine. He didn't think anyone could ever be this sweet. "Not at all, ‘course you can." He replied, again, wanting to make you feel as comfortable as possible.

You hesitantly took off your face mask, feeling like you were in some dramatic movie where they face revealed someone. You kind of liked having the mask on, because, for one, it kept you warm, and for two, you were a little self conscious with how you looked compared to all the other women here today. You shoved the mask in your pocket, with trembling fingers, before looking back down to your notes.

"Woah." You heard Harrys voice being mumbled under the wind. You eyes shot up to his and you noticed him staring right back at you.

"W-what? Is my acne playing up? I knew I should've—" You self-consciously run your hands over the areas you know you got acne. The masks really didn't help when it came to skin care.

"Hey, stop. No. You just... You look beautiful." Harry complimented you, and a roaring blush arose on to your cheeks. You'd never been called beautiful before, and so you were taking the compliment like such a 13-year old.

"Oh, uh, thank you." You awkwardly answered, not really having any other words come to mind in that moment. Harry chuckled under his breath, still keeping eyes on you for some reason.

"Would you mind repeating your last question, I didn't quite catch it?" Harry asked politely.

"Sure. Um, tell me how you've experienced corona virus." You repeated for him, gripping ahold of your pen to start copying what he says and pressing start on your recording device in case you needed it later.

"Well, it's been tedious that's for sure. However, I just want people to be safe and for life to return back to normal, so therefore i've been very MIA for a lot of the time. Keeping to myself mostly. I only went out for hikes or bike rides. All my meetings were online, so it's been very lonely." Harry kept eye contact with your figure the entire time, and if it weren't for you concentrating on writing what he was saying then you'd probably melt away under his gaze.

For such soft eyes he sure was intimidating.

"I presume the loneliness sent you crazy at times." You laughed, because you sure felt that way through lockdown. Curse being single.

"You have no idea." Harry laughed along with you, making you, slowly, feel more at ease.

"Actually, you'd be surprised." You looked at him unsure, before returning down to your notebook.

"Okay then, first question from me," Harrys words made your head shoot up, "How can someone as amazing as yourself be lonely?" He asked and you made a mental tally of how many questions he'd asked.

"Could ask you the very same question, Harry." You slyly replied, avoiding the question by answering with another question. It was a tactic you'd learnt, throughout your years of journalism, when you wanted to dismiss something .

"That's cheating." Harry pointed at you and raised his eyebrows, but you couldn't take your eyes off the big, cheeky, smile perched on his face. You shrugged you're shoulders in defence and returned to your questions. "But you did just call me amazing, so I think i'll let it slide this one time." You blushed, again, when you understood what he meant.

He was amazing though - that was the truth.

"You were in L.A. for the majority of quarantine, am I right to say?" You already knew the answer but your manager had just wanted confirmation.

"Yeah, but L.A. feels like holiday, whereas London feels like home." He answered, which you appreciated. He hasn't got lost in the way that Hollywood could let people. He'd stayed grounded.

"So what did you entertain yourself with during quarantine?" You asked curiously, slightly side-tracking from your pre-written questions - just because you were intrigued (nosey).

"Not much, not to be boring. I ate a lot of bread. I worked out pretty much every day. I wrote quite a bit actually." He used his fingers to pinch his bottom lip, something you'd noticed he did in interviews.

"Does that mean a new album on the way?" Your inner fangirl was screaming at the thought of HS3.

"Can neither confirm nor deny." Harry smirked to himself, like the cheeky bugger he is.

"That's a yes then." You joked, pretending to write it down in your notes.

"You're impossible, you." Harry laughed and shook his head. It made you feel all funny the way you could make him smile like that. You were the source of his happiness for just that moment, and that was enough to make you feel happy for a lifetime - not that he felt the same.

"Next question," you stated, moving swiftly on because you knew you had limited time, "How's your experience with Vogue been so far?"

"Wonderful. Everyone has been so welcoming and that makes it so much easier for me to have fun. It's daunting going at things alone, but i'm getting slowly used to it now." Harry sniffled a little, probably due to the freezing cold weather here.

"Must be strange, not having four best friends around you, all the time, anymore." You stated rather than asked him, sure that he was missing his bandmates. I mean, you were - so he definitely would be.

"Brothers." Harry replied, making you look up at him confused.

"I'm sorry?" You asked, giving him your full attention.

"You said four best friends. Well, actually they're my brothers." His words actually caused a rift in your heart. You could feel it being pulled apart and torn in to two. If you wrote this in to the magazine the fans would have a worldwide passing-away-party.

"Harry." You said softly, slightly tearing up at his words. "God, I swear i'm not normally this emotional." You chest your throat and try to establish your dignity - however there wasn't that much left anymore.

"Oh shut up." Harry looked away obviously trying to hide the fact that he was tearing up too. You laughed at him but didn't draw any more attention to it than you guessed he would've wanted.

"They mean a lot to you then?" You asked, hopefully not treading on any unwanted territories.

"Much more than a lot, yeah." Harry nodded his head, turning it back to face you. He could tell this conversation was now off-the-record because of your closed notebook, your undivided attention towards him and the fact you’d turned off the recording device. He liked being able to look at you, rather than the top of your head. He swore you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

"You still see them often?" 

"Not as often as i'd like. Niall did come around the other week to drop off some old guitars he didn't want anymore, and then we ended up playing around with some music for a bit." He admitted, which stitched your heart back together.

"So does that mean a Narry collab?" You teased, biting your bottom lip in anticipation.

"Narry? You so are a directioner." He laughed along with you.

"And you just avoided my question, therefore there is a song out there written only by you and Niall." You concluded, which shut him up.

This conversation was going a lot better than expected. Certainly a lot better than earlier. You will be permanently scarred by the way you spoke to him and handled his belongings. It was going to haunt you forever - and yet he'd forget about it by tomorrow. Or maybe he wouldn't, which is why you felt the need to apologise.

"Harry?" You asked, clearly indicating this was still a conversation away from the interview.

"Yes Y/N?" He watched you intently, listening to your every word.

"I, um, just wanted to apologise for my behaviour earlier. I was just really nervous to meet you, and to be honest still am. I didn't mean to touch your stuff without your consent and I certainly didn't mean to make you uncomfortable with any of my comments. So, i'm sorry. I can only imagine the awful, yet true, things you must think of me." You rambled really quickly, that you were uncertain whether Harry even caught one word of what you'd says.

"Do you know why I asked for you to interview me Y/N?" Harry asked, which wasn't the first thing you expected him to say after your apology.

"No. I...well Lisa told me it was because I can write well or something." You suggested, not wanting to sound egotistical.

"I mean you do write perfectly, but no." You were intrigued now. "I asked for you because I, and this is not for your magazine, have a secret - but not-so-secret - crush on you." This time it was Harrys turn to blush.

"Harry... you don't have to say that to—"

"I'm not saying it for anything. I sincerely think you are the most delightful, most prettiest, most fucking sweetest person i've ever met." Harry exclaimed, which you were taken aback by. Never, ever, did you think that Harry Styles would proclaim his likeness towards you. Ever.

"Harry don't mess with me, please." You shyly spoke, tilting your head down in disbelief that the Harry Styles was smitten about you.

He shuffled along the bench, stopping a little way from you but close enough to reach out for you. Your heartbeat increased when you noticed his hand move closer towards you. It didn't stop till he reached your face. He took his time, courteously, pushing your hair behind your ear before removing you of your glasses. He held the right-eye frame and slowly pulled the glasses off your face.

Once he'd successfully taken them off he folded them up and placed them alongside your closed notebook.

"Can see those pretty eyes now." He whispered quietly, but loud enough for you to hear.

"Don't lie. They're so dull." You mumbled, lifting your head up slightly. His face was still away from you.

"Not to me they're not." He retaliated, looking deep into your eyes as you did his. "I hate this corona virus."

"Why?" His words were so out of the blue sometimes, it gave you whiplash.

"Because I can't be as near to you as I want to be." Harry told you. And yeah, you hated corona too. It was getting a little laborious now.

"Smooth, Styles." You chuckled. You wondered how many new and weird pick-up lines could be made from covid. 

"I know." He winked, which honestly would have made you throw up if it were any other man on the planet. Somehow, though, Harry just made it seem attractive - along with every other thing that man ever did. "After this, would you like to come back to my house for a cuppa tea?" He asked sweetly, like a five year old asking whether you wanted to play together.

"Okay. Lisa was my ride though." You said more to yourself than anything else, debating on how you'd even get to Harrys. Uber? Taxi? Lisa? Walk?

"I'll drive us, it's fine. I have to drop Gem off, but i'd be more than happy to chauffeur you." Harry kindly offered, to which you were internally screaming about. You were literally, and metaphorically, having a field-day with all this Harry content and interview.

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a burden." You question politely, not wanting to overstep any boundaries - especially in these covid infested times.

"Of course. I wouldn't have offered otherwise." He protested, waving his hand at if to say it was no bother. You were already trying to work out, in your head, how much petrol money you were going to owe him.

"Then i'd be honoured to have a brew with you Harry." You giggled at how cringe you were being, even if this was just your normal self speaking.

"Great." Harry genuinely smiled, teeth and all. "My shoot should take a couple of hours, but feel free to continue to write and journal. I'm looking forward to reading this particular article." He winked at you before standing up.

"Wonder why?" You sarcastically asked, knowing full-well it was due to his exposure of his own feelings towards you. Even though you'd never says anything back you were quite in agreement on how you felt about him, like he did you. He would be a narcissist to say he knew you liked him the same, out loud, but he knew. And you knew that he knew.

"Wonder why indeed." He gave you one last smile before he'd disappeared for the rest of the afternoon, leaving you to digest and relive the past half an hour or so.

Being Harry Styles' crush was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.

                                                          ••••

After Harry had finished up his shoot he was quick to come find you again.

You'd watched parts of his shoot and he looked magnificent. There wasn't a good enough word to describe how amazing he looked. Harry, his stylist, was probably the best stylist out there. His fashion choices were unmatched and you wanted him to be yours. You were not rich enough nor fashionable enough, ironic for working in a a fashion company, to hire a stylist, but you would if you could.

You were so proud to see what he was achieving now as the person that he was. Harry was just being Harry, without the devilish control of shitty managements or ridiculous amounts of PR stunts. Harry was more free than ever, and it definitely showed just how much he was enjoying it.

You were certain that this Vogue magazine would break the internet - his fans were good at doing that. This could be a turning point for many people, with their outdated and ignorant views. There was no room for people with racist or homophobic or transphobic or xenophobic - and the list does go on - views anymore.

You were waiting by the front door of the barn, to catch Harry as he walked past. You caught sight of him in a white robe, presumably to get changed back into his everyday clothes. He looked really pretty in the robe - very domestic actually.

Today had been a good day.

Harry asked you to send over the more specific Vogue questions to him via email, so he could devote more time in to answering them in a lot more depth. You thought he meant you'd be sending them to some PA in his team, but you were shocked to understand he'd given you his personal email.

People were walking back to their cars and packing away the filming kit. You saw Lisa and the director talking to one another, no doubt discussing some in-work gossip.

"You ready?" Harrys voice reminded you that you'd been waiting for him. You looked to see he was back in the same clothes as this morning, only this time without his coat.

"Here?" You offered, having him over the coat once again but he declined.

"Looks better on you anyways." He winked at you, before walking through the car park and to his car. You were very surprised when you found out Harry was the one to own the green Jaguar. You assumed all celebrities drove the Range Rover, but no. The vintage car added to Harrys immaculate vibe and just made him that little bit more hot.

Harry properly introduced you to Gemma, who was equally as lovely as Harry. They were both amazing people and they were crazily alike. From the way they looked, down to the way they phrased their words, they were mistakingly twins. Gemma explained how Anne, their mum, didn't know they were doing this photoshoot and that it was going to be a surprise, which you thought was so cute.

Gemma spilt a lot of gossip on Harry, to which he got very embarrassed over. You learnt that Harrys first word was Cat. You learnt that Harry is godfather to multiple children, which you found heartwarming. You learnt Harry used to be a baker - which was something he elaborated on for a good half an hour. Harry was just a fountain of memories and Gemma was the one sharing them all with you.

The drive back to London was relaxed. You sat in the back, listening to Harry and Gemma pointlessly argue whilst an Arctic Monkeys album played in the background. You forgot that people like Harry drove, and listened to music, just like other regular people. You often misplaced celebrities in society, thinking they had everything done for them but in reality that (often) wasn't the case - at least not for Harry.

Gemma was dropped off quickly before Harry drove to his. It was no surprise that the Styles siblings didn't live too far away from each other. Harrys house was beautiful. Bigger than anything you could ever dream of buying. It was a palace compared to your cupboard-sized house. You were unbelievably jealous. He gave you the tour of the house, showing you where the toilets were, and even his panic room if necessary.

You migrated to the kitchen for a bit, talking about anything and everything. Getting to know the minuscule pieces of information that no-one else was trusted with, made you feel special. Harry made you feel special - even if he weren't meaning to.

Every moment held a spark. Every touch set off a firework. Every laugh was an electric burst. He made you feel so alive.

"We can go to the living room after this has boiled." Harry said, pointing towards the streaming kettle. He wanted to show off his fancy tea collection he had, and let you have a try if you wanted to. Harry was boring and chose the basic green tea, but, after much deliberation, you chose the cranberry green tea. It intrigued you and it sounded delicious.

"Why the extensive tea collection?" Not even you, a certified caffeine addict, had this much tea in your house. Coffee was a different story and one in which you didn't want to talk about.

"They help me with my meditation." He took the teabags and placed them in his glass mugs. They had a delicate Gucci stamp on them, and you just imagined that they probably worth the same amount as your daily salary.

"You meditate?" You were slightly surprised that he did.

"I try to yeah." Harry nodded, focusing on pouring in the boiling water into the mugs. "I've got very tight hamstrings and so it helps if I meditate twice a day."

Harry finished making the tea, in the light-filled kitchen, before showing you around to the open-lounge area. Everything was modern and chic. It was exactly how you imagined it, but better. The open, red-brick, wall was a beautiful feature and one that you were a whore for! It reminded you of New York and the memories you'd made there one summer.

The sofa was a beautiful velvet, green, sofa. It was soft and gentle, a lot like Harry when you thought about it. The whole house was an architectural masterpiece and you'd be lying if you said you weren't jealous. You sat on one end and Harry went to go and sit on the other end.

"I don't bite you know?" You joked, self-consciously wondering whether he didn't want to be sat near you.

"I know, I just don't want to step on any of your covid boundaries - which is perfectly fine by the way." He added, apprehensively taking the spot next to you.

"No, not at all." You ushered him to sit next to you, as you took a sip from your steaming hot cup of fruity tea. "If I smell though, do tell me!"

"Yeah, you smell bloody awful!" Harry sarcastically remarked, but laughing afterwards to assure you he was joking. The atmosphere went quiet for a minute, only the sounds of passing cars and deep breaths being heard.

"Y/N can I ask you something?" Harry turned the tone of the conversation. It sounded like he wanted to be more serious than you two were being beforehand.

"Anything." You encouraged him to continue. You placed the cup of tea down on the table, deciding it was too hot to drink right now, and gave him your full attention.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?" Harry questioned. You didn't think you'd be having a conversation this intense - especially if you had different opinions - on your first day of knowing each other, but here you were.

"I believe you can love someone at first sight. I don't believe you can be in love with someone at first sight. Why?" You were curious as to how his brain had journeyed to this particular topic. You'd never really had this conversation with anyone before, mainly because you were unaware of the true power, and meaning, of love.

"It uh... It doesn't matter." Harry shook his head and you could tell by his body language that he was shutting you out. Maybe you'd made him uncomfortable.

"Sorry I didn't mean to—"

"No, no. Please don't apologise. It's just - I like you a lot more than you may think." Harry shyly told you, which made you all soft inside. He was being vulnerable and that was something you admired in a partner. You didn't just need love, affection and trust in a relationship. No. You needed vulnerability and heartbreak too, and Harry was revealing that part of him to you.

"I like you a lot more than you think too." You repeated, not because you felt bad for him but because you truly did like him a whole lot. Love was a weird yet wonderful thing, and if you were to hazard a guess you'd say you loved Harry. 

You couldn't wait to be in love with him.

"Does that mean I get to crown you my girlfriend?" Harry excitedly asked. Harry happy was something that should be made a constant, and you were more than happy to be in control of that.

"At least take me out first." You bargained, wishing for nothing more than to go on a date with Harry. Where you'd go, you had no idea. Everything was closed right now and there was still the chance of becoming sick with corona, but no doubt Harry would think of something not only clever, but special.

Of course you'd love to be Harrys girlfriend. However, you wanted one more, official, opportunity to really get to know him - unprofessionally. You wanted to make sure that you knew, and he knew, that you wanted to be with him because he was the charming Harry you've come to love, not because he was Harry Styles.

"So you're allowing me to take you on a date?" Harry smirked like a little child, your heart fluttering at how excited he was to be able to treat you to dinner.

"Yes, Harry. Yes I am." You answered sweetly, offering him the cutest smile you could.

You can't believe what a turn of events today has been. You've gone from nearly writing yourself on Harrys enemy list to writing yourself on to his 'people he's dated' list. Who knows what the future would offer you. At the start of the day you had wished this whole day to end and for the ground to just swallow you up, now you never wanted it to end. It was too perfect to be true and yet it was.

Harry was the most wonderful human to exist and you were beyond surprised to be the one to catch his attention. You didn't understand why you were so special, but it was nice to feel like this for a change. It was nice to feel wanted.

                                                             ••••

A few months later and you were officially Harrys girlfriend.

It had been such a crazy few months. Harry religiously took you out on dates every week. Whether it be to grab a hotdog at a local diner, a coffee from a quaint cafe, a walk in Hyde Park or a late-night drive around London - which normally ended up with you falling asleep before you could make it back to yours. On sleepless jet-lagged nights he'll still drive through London's quiet streets, seeing neighborhoods in a new way, just as an excuse to spend time with you.

Harry often stayed over at yours. Even though you looked like you lived in a shoebox compared to Harry, he liked it. He liked the subtly and normality of it all. He wanted your life to remain as normal as possible and, apart from the occasional paparazzi incident, it did. You never had anything to complain about. Of course the online bullying created emotional wounds, at the start of your relationship, but it was nothing that Harry couldn't repair with a bit of love.

Lisa has nominated herself to be maid-of-honour when the day comes - if the day comes. Harry has already pinky sworn that you are it for him. The one, as some may say. You were utterly flattered, but you certainly unsure of what the future help for you both.

You loved Harry, you do love Harry and you will forever always love Harry.

It was ridiculous to think that all this stemmed from you working at Vogue. From you studying English Literature in a city away from London. From you dedicating you extra hours gaining work experience and money to be able get in and afford university. So many moments in life have you stopped and said 'i wish i hadn't have done that', but now you were convinced that they were the best things to have happened to you - because they lead you, all, to Harry.

And, being Harry Styles girlfriend was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.

[storiesforallfandoms]

oh captain ~ jack sparrow;pirates of the caribbean

word count: 2488

request?: yes!

“Can you do a Captain Jack Sparrow smut where the reader has a kink of calling Jack her captain”

description: in which she loves to call him her captain, even in the most intimate of situations

pairing: jack sparrow x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut

masterlist

It all started as a joke.

I came aboard the Black Pearl in search of my sister, Elizabeth Swann, and her secret lover, Will Turner. It was no secret that they were travelling with notorious Captain Jack Sparrow and, although my parents did not exactly like Will Turner, they had sent me as a way to tell Elizabeth that they were giving her their blessing to marry Will.

Of course, the moment I - a single, young maiden that had often been described as “beautiful” by my suitors - stepped on to the ship, the captain himself couldn’t keep his eyes off of me. There was many a moment in which Elizabeth had to actually tell Jack that he was being too forward or too crass with me. I liked to play along with his games as well and would tease him back. My favorite way of teasing him was to call him “Captain” in a sarcastic manner.

The first time I said it was in response to Jack’s very bossy tone as he told Elizabeth and I to do something. “Oh, of course, Captain.”

I could see a fire light in his eyes even then as he looked at me. “What did you say?”

“Well, you insist that we on the boat here refer to you as your supposed title,” I had told him. “I was just saying it. I thought you would like that.”

“The way you said it,” he pointed out. “It wasn’t very...crewman like.”

“Oh, my apologies, Captain.”

The fire ignited in his eyes again, but he decided to leave it be this time and to go on to yell commands at his other crewmates.

That’s how it all started. It was just a joke, a way to poke fun at Jack without being too harsh. I used the nickname almost every time I saw him, and almost every time I could see a look on his face that was hard to understand.

That was, until I found myself bent over his desk moaning the original teasing nickname repeatedly.

I never expected to find myself falling for Captain Jack Sparrow. Elizabeth had told me many a story about his attempts at courting beautiful maidens, including herself despite her love for Will. The stories led me to believing that Jack was just a man who wanted to use then leave a woman. I wrote him off as nothing more than a scoundrel, a pirate captain. Oh, what a fool I was.

No one on the ship knew of our love affair, especially not Elizabeth. I loved my sister dearly and I knew she would never judge me for who I had fallen in love with, however I also knew she couldn’t keep a secret from our parents for the life of her, and the last thing I needed was to break my parents hearts by telling them that their youngest daughter had fallen in love with a pirate.

That’s why I continued to use the teasing nickname in such fashion in front of my sister, but every time I used it, I could see that spark of desire in Jack’s eyes.

There was one day that we were on course for some sort of treasure that Jack was dying to find.

“It’s been lost for hundreds of years,” he was explaining to Will. Elizabeth and I were trying to help some of the crewmen and overheard the conversation that both men were refusing to tell us. “Wealth and riches beyond your wildest dreams. You could buy over Elizabeth’s parents with that sort of money.”

“I don’t think anything could buy over Elizabeth’s parents at this rate,” Will joked. “But do you really believe it to be truth? I’ve heard it’s nothing but a - ”

“A pirate’s tale,” Jack finished. “A way to lead pirates to their deaths? I’ve heard those stories, too. But there’s only one way to find out.”

“Mad man is going to get us killed,” Elizabeth whispered to me. “He only cares for the riches he may get, he doesn’t think of the countless lives he’s risking.”

“Of course he doesn’t,” I responded. “Anything that will shower him in gold and recognition is his top priority.”

“What are you two talking about down there?” Jack called from his perch at the steering wheel.

Elizabeth and I shared a teasing glance before Elizabeth responded, “Just about how smart you are, my dear captain! This journey can only go right!”

Jack raised an eyebrow at the obvious sarcasm in Elizabeth’s voice before his eyes landed on me.

“We were discussing how much recognition you will get once you find this totally real treasure you’re looking for,” I said. I paused a moment before giving Jack a brief smirk as I added, “Captain.”

He shuffled a little, trying to make his lust seem like he was just annoyed with me and Elizabeth. I couldn’t help but smirk triumphantly at him before turning back to Elizabeth, who was also giggling.

“You both doubt me,” he finally said after a long stretch of silence, “but I’ll show you both, and this whole boat, that I am right and this treasure is real.”

He came down from his perch and walked into the room that was designated as “his office”, his eyes meeting mine for a split moment. “I’m going to study the map for some time, please do not disturb me.”

What he really meant was, No one else come disturb me, I will be fucking (Y/N)’s brains out.

I felt myself becoming tingly between my legs, a regular sensation that Jack was able to get out of me. I tried to keep a light look on my face, but it was hard to do so when all I wanted was to follow him into that room.

“You two should be kinder to him,” Will said, although he, too, was laughing. “He’s been kind enough to let us travel with him.”

“After trying to get under mine and (Y/N)’s skirts for a few months,” Elizabeth added. “He knows that we like him and that we are grateful for him. It’s just so easy to tease him sometimes.”

Tell me about it, I thought to myself.

“Maybe we should leave the captain alone to his mapping for a while,” Will said, wrapping an arm around Elizabeth’s waist. It was his only silent way of asking Elizabeth for what Jack was trying to get from me.

“Perhaps we should,” she responded and gave her husband to be a light kiss on his lips.

The two left without another word to me, which was alright by me. It meant that I didn’t have to make up an excuse as to why I was “disturbing” Jack when he asked me not to.

Once I was sure they were too busy with one another to notice me, I turned and raced for the door. I hastily did mine and Jack’s secret knock before shoving the door open. I was shocked to see that the room before me was empty - the desk where Jack usually sat waiting for me was empty, and there was almost no sight of him at all.

Before I could even consider why this had happened, the door slammed behind me and I felt someone take hold of my throat and shove me against the closed door. Jack’s lips met mine and I felt the familiar explosive feeling I had whenever we kissed. His hands were already roughly pulling at my skirt, trying to pull it up around my hips.

“Someone is impatient,” I breathed against his lips. “You told everyone not to disturb you, remember? You don’t have to be so fast and so rough.”

“But if I take you quickly once, I can take you again before anyone notices that we’re even gone.”

His dirty words ignited a fire in me. I giggled as he picked me up in his arms and laid me down on his desk. The poor thing had seen more of our action than any actual work that Jack had ever done. I was surprised that it was still standing after all this time.

I took hold of the back of Jack’s neck and pulled him in for another kiss. Our lips moved so perfectly with one another as his hands trailed up my bare legs, his cold rings leaving shivers where they trailed. I pulled at his pants, trying desperately to get them off. He chuckled against my lips, the vibrations running through my entire body.

“Who is the impatient one now?” he asked.

“Not like the great Captain to leave a girl waiting in her desire,” I teased, hoping the nickname would be used to my advantage.

Lucky for me, I knew that was the one thing that could break Jack. He roughly pulled at the strings around the back of my dress, causing it to loosen and fall off my body completely. Once my dress was a heap on the floor, Jack pushed me onto the desk so I was laying on my back. I watched as he undid his pants and pulled them down just far enough for his hard member to pop free. Just seeing how hard he was from the little amount of teasing we had been doing was enough to make me start dripping in anticipation.

I gasped as I felt him pushing himself into me. No matter how many times we had sex, I still continued to be shocked by how big he was. He made my eyes roll into the back of my head just by filling me with his hard cock.

His hand found my hair and he roughly pulled me up so my body was pressed against his. “What’s my name, love?”

“Captain,” I breathed, dying to move my hips against his to get some sort of friction between us. But I knew that would only result in him punishing me for being naughty.

My response earned me a few slow thrusts. I bit my lip as to not moan too loud, but it was hard to keep quiet during one of our rendezvous. They were often few and far between, leaving the two of us very pent up and needing of release when the time came.

“Say it again for me my pet,” he purred.

“Captain,” I moaned, wrapping my legs around his waist to pull him as closely as I could. “Oh, Captain.”

The grip he had on my hair tightened as he began to thrust into me more, now going at a quicker and more steady pace. I pressed my lips to his to try and muffle my moans, which were now starting to become loud enough for anyone who would be passing by to hear.

I moaned out the name a few more times, which led to me being laid back over the desk yet again with Jack leaning over me, his thrusts so rough now that the desk was being moved. I arched my back against him, trying to get him as far into me as he could go. One of his hands was gripping my thigh while the other was wrapped around my throat, pressing slightly against the sides every now and then, and causing me to feel lightheaded.

Jack was always able to hit a spot in me that made my brain turn to mush and my eyes roll back into my head. I could barley think straight when he was pounding that spot relentlessly inside of me, especially at that moment when the only thing I could feel was waves of pleasure rippling through my body.

I managed to pull my thoughts together enough to utter out a sentence, “I’m so close, Captain.”

“Let me feel you come undone around me, my pet,” he said. I could feel him twitching inside of me, indicating that he was close to finishing himself.

My fingers curled into the desk as I felt myself hitting my climax. My entire body seemed to curl in some way as I felt myself contracting around Jack. His hands slipped under my arched back, pulling my body up to press against him as he did his final thrusts and finished inside of me.

The aftermath of our love making rarely lasted long in fear of being caught. Jack held me for a short amount of time, kissing the top of my head and whispering sweet nothings into my ear, before he finally had to pull away from me and begin to redress himself. I pulled my dress back up.

“You mind tying me back up?” I asked him, turning around to present my still bare back to him.

He laced the strings through their proper holes and tied it tight enough that it would stay up, but not too tight to cause discomfort.

“Do you really think you’ll find that treasure you’re on route for?” I asked him once he was finished. “Do you think it’s real?”

“I choose to believe every treasure is real until proven otherwise,” he responded. “I know everyone on the ship thinks that I’m leading us to our deaths, but I truly believe there is something waiting for us at our destination.”

“Well, if you believe it then I believe you,” I said. “What do you plan on doing with your riches once you get them?”

“I’ll share them amongst the crew,” he started. “There’s supposedly enough to keep a dozen men from having to work for the rest of their lives, and I have just a little over a dozen men on this ship. What I keep for myself I’m going to use to get a better ship. The old Black Pearl is starting to see her end I’m afraid. And, with whatever is left, I intend to buy you a rock so big and so stunning that any royal woman would be jealous of it.”

He lifted my hand to his lips and gave my knuckles a soft kiss.

“You intend to marry me?” I asked him.

“Of course I do. Why do you seem shocked to hear that?”

I chuckled. “Well, the stories I’ve heard about the great Captain Jack Sparrow, none of them made it sound like he would ever settle down with a woman.”

Jack smiled and wrapped his arms around my waist, looking lovingly into my eyes. I could get lost staring into those beautiful eyes of his.

“A man must know when the right woman has come along,” he told me. “Especially a pirate. And the moment you stepped foot on my ship, I knew you were the right woman.”

“You sweet talker,” I said before pressing my lips to his. “When you do get me that ring, just know that I will say yes.”

“Of course, my love. And I cannot wait to have you to sail the seas with for the rest of my life.”

[alreadyblondenow]

A not so Cinderella story

“I’m the only one in this room that knows you don’t have panties underneath this beautiful dress”

Pairing: football play! Jeno Lee x female cheerleader! reader

Genre: SMUT, FLUFF, enemies to lovers

WC: 4,507k

Warnings: mentions of food, as requested the reader here is a cheerleader so the character is fit. Please dont come at me. Public oral sex (female receiving) (inside school classroom), swearing, unprotected sex, mentions of rough sex, the sex was just inspired by Diggity Jeno hahaha, a lot of cliché moments here, mentions of bruises and dislocated bones (bc athletes) NOTHING DESCRIPTIVE IT WAS JUST MENTIONED

A/N: NOT PROOFREAD. I’ll fix it once I get my internet connection back. Part of Request Party. Also Jeno has been wrecking me lately.

—————

Peanut butter and jelly. That’s the perfect way to describe you and Lee Jeno.

The famous sandwich is known with its unbalancing tastes of flavors where the tastes of peanut butter and jam always fights in your mouth, but that’s what makes it so delicious. Something so unfit, unbalanced, contradicts, but still they’re better together. And just like the sandwich, you and Jeno are two different mixing flavors.

As the captain of the football team, and you as the captain of the squad, people around you expect that you ‘mix’ well with each other to the point that they expect you to be dating by this time.

“Nope. Not gonna happen. I hate him, he hates me. Let’s just accept that,” you whine to your friends as they ask you to take Jeno as your date for the dance this weekend. “It’s an exciting masquerade party, please let me enjoy my night without that dick ruining it,”

“And speaking of Jeno’s dick. Look at the size of that... Mmm,” one of your friends said and pointed to the side of the field where the football team are practicing and Lee Jeno’s shorts are just... so thin that his big dick is obvious.

“RIP to that pussy he’s fucking after dance...” another one comments.

“Okay, continue your drooling after practice. I need your full attention now. Let’s go! Move your asses!”

And just like that the captain in you is out in no time, earning respect from your friends and even impressing the guys from the football team. Of course everyone admired your leadership, skills and well... hot body. That’s why Jeno’s focus is nowhere to found the moment he heard you shouting from across the field and seeing your nice ass and-

“You can always say that you like her,” Jaemin disturbs Jeno’s thoughts with heavy breathing, sweating handsomely and waving at the students who calls him.

“Yeah, It’s not that simple,” Jeno said.

“Psh. Of course it is. HEY Y/N!!!! JENO SAYS YOU’RE SEXY!”

Jeno’s eyes went big and tried stopping Jaemin but its too late. You heard him already. Everyone, heard him.

“Stop staring at my ass Jeno, go back to practice” you said sternly and rolled your eyes at him. That was hot, Jeno thought.

You see, just like peanut butter and Jelly, you’re two different amazing beings. Each has unique personalities and charm, but you can’t see the good things in Jeno because you’re always blinded by his cocky attitude. But for Jeno, whenever you’re mad at him, annoyed to the core or whenever you talk back at him, he always finds it sexy. Until one day he fell for you, by just looking at you long and hard one perfect afternoon at the cafeteria while you’re busy reading something.

As the school dance commence and everyone had unique masks on their faces tonight, to be honest you quite enjoy it because somehow you feel invisible. You don’t feel popular and people are just so comfortable with talking to you, not knowing that you’re Y/n. And the only people who knew it was you was of course your friends, and you are having a great time.

“She’s the one wearing a white ball gown,” Jaemin whispers to Jeno under the loud party music and howling teenagers, “you owe me captain, it’s not that easy to make her friends talk,”

“Psh. Of course it is, you’re Na Jaemin,” Jeno pats his friend’s shoulder as a thanks and walked towards you with a smile in his face. Confident that you won’t shoo him away because you don’t know that he’s Jeno.

“Looks like I found my princess,” he said with all his might. Looking so handsome and perfect even with his mask on. You can’t help but accept the compliment and flirt back. So you turned towards him, flashing a big and excited smile and so thrilled that someone finally had the guts to call you princess.

“I thought you’d never show up! Now, dance with me!” you reached for his hand and the masked prince immediately twirled you.

Everything was suddenly beyond perfect that you felt like every second was a beautiful well written scene in a fairytale book.

It’s the way he holds you while dancing, telling you the right words that goes straight to your heart and immediately give you a smile. A kind of smile that only the right person can give you. But of course, you don’t know that yet.

As the night became even more perfect for the two of you, not knowing each other’s names just makes everything more thrilling and interesting but you promised to each other to stay true to each other when the clock strikes midnight and everyone has to take off their masks.

And to maximize the fun, you and Jeno ended up making out in one of the empty classrooms while everyone is busy dancing and enjoying the program. And by the way, it was a passionate kiss, not like those innocent kissing-a-stranger type of kiss that you see in movies. You both didn’t care at that moment whether you know each other or not.

“Fuck- I have to go back before midnight, I kind of... have an important duty during the event,” you said. Careful not to tell him that the captain of the cheerleading squad is needed to crown the voted prom queen.

“Understood,” Jeno says because he is the one crowning the voted prom king. “Does your lips always tastes sweet?” he asked with a very sexy tone, lifting you effortlessly with his incredible strength and making you sit on the desk. He reaches dow to your dress and went under it, completely startling you with the way he holds your thighs and kiss your knee, inner thighs, until he reaches your clothed pussy. Kissing the wet center and drownig with the feeling of his tongue shamelessly ruining your panties.

Bravely, Jeno removed your panties without breaking the soft kisses he’s giving you, putting your panties straight in his pocket for safe keeping and to make sure that you have no choice but to go back to him after midnight.

“Oh fuck-“ you moaned softly, covering your own mouth while the man in between your legs is giving you kitten licks on your pussy but intensifying everything when he spread your folds and focused on your clit. Licking it fast and kissing it like it it was your lips. It was unbearable, and this time two hands are covering your mouth to muffle you moans because you knew that what you’re doing right now can jeopardize your cheerleading career.

“Close- ooh, fuck. Right there please, faster. Ahh!”

You don’t know but Jeno is smiling right now, happy and contented that he get to do this with you. And in a matter of seconds, your legs are shaking and wanting to be closed so bad, but Jeno is giving you oral like he had never licked a pussy in a year and stopped your legs from closing to torture you further with his tongue.

Then suddenly, you heard your name being called and you made Jeno stop and quickly went down from the desks with weak legs, not having any other choice but to face everyone even after having a nice orgasm just a few minutes earlier.

You feel sorry for your prince of course because you literally kicked him and bolted away without any other words, not even a smile.

“Sorry I’m late, I was in the comfort room handling my tummy ache,” you cleared your throat and did what you had to do. A few minutes later, Jeno is now crowing the voted prom king and you didn’t bother looking at him because you knew he will look so handsome tonight. So you just stood there in the corner of the stage focusing on your weak legs, and feel Jeno stood beside you afterwards. Watching the the prom king and queen dance at the corner, both with tired smile and hearts yearning to be with each other again, suddenly Jeno spoke to you.

“I’m the only one in this room that knows you don’t have panties underneath this beautiful dress” he whispered beside you with a small smirk that only you can notice.

And the moment you lift your head to face him, you see you le prince.

Jeno is your prince. The prince who just gave you a mind blowing orgasm just a few minutes back.

“Lee Jeno- what the fuck. What have you done,” you said quietly, trying to control your reactions in front of the entire school.

“Date me and I’ll give it back to you”

“No thanks, you can keep it- just please dont tell anyone what happened to us.”

And just like that both of your happy endings are cancelled for the night. He felt broken, you felt guilty. But he can’t just finish this night without a fight.

“Fine. At least let me drive you home” he said bitterly.

“Fine”

The drive was quiet as expected. No one saw you get inside Jeno’s car, you made sure of it. To be honest you wanted to apologize to him for the kick earlier, but you figured it will make everything even more awkward. So forget it.

When he had finally pulled in front of your house, neither of you started moving as if you didn’t want this night to end badly than it already is.

“I had a great time...” you started, hoping that it’s okay to even say ‘thank you’

“Can’t you see that I’m trying my best here?” he said and it turned quiet again, “I like you Y/n,”

“Are you sure?” Are the only words that came out from you.

“A hundred percent sure. If you don’t let me date you even just for a short period of time to prove my feelings to you... I might cry while driving home,”

“And that’s fucking dangerous. Okay okay,” you were panicking at this moment “I accept your offer. Please, just drive safe. You’re making me nervous,”

Jeno smiled from ear to ear upon hearing your decision. Even though you didn’t actually accepted his offer because you wanted to date him too,it’s fine. Jeno is willing to work hard for you.

Day after day Jeno ask you if you’re free for the most awaited date but you try so hard to avoid him. It was not easy to hide your ‘relationship’ and to be honest it’s starting to annoy you.

One awful day after practice, it was the weekend and only the squad and the football team is in campus for practice. It was a tough and ugly day, so you decided to wait for everyone to finish showering before you start cleaning yourself.

The water was nice and the warm feeling of the showers just relaxes you to the max and enjoy the running water. You take this opportunity to sort out your thoughts...but someone disturbed your peace again.

You feel him hold you by the waist and encircle his arms around it, head rests by the crook of your neck and even by just feeling his embrace, you knew that Jeno is tired too. That he had a bad day too and you didn’t want to make things worst for the both of you.

“The door was open, I locked it for you” he said quietly. The tiredness was even obvious through the way he speaks.

And knowing that Jeno is using you to comfort himself, you just let him do what he wants as a way to give back to the comfort and company that he’s giving you now.

Wet kisses were place on your shoulder and neck, his strong arms kept you close to him until your ass is so close to his cock that it’s poking your ass cheeks but you just let it be. To be honest you love the feeling of what’s happening now, you feel so close to Jeno just like the night during the dance.

You turned around to face him, only to find his face full of dirt from practice, exhausted expression and silence. He was never silent when he’s around you, and that’s how you confirmed that it was indeed a bad day.

“Want to talk about it?” You offered and Jeno just rests his forehead on yours, letting the water run through your naked bodies. Hands all over each other, no funny business just providing comfort. You took initiative to clean his face with your soap and pour shampoo on his hair, washing it gently as he lets you do what you want.

And finally, you see a hint of smile from his face and you cant help but to smile back.

You didn’t do anything stupid in the showers with Jeno, you just literally had shower with him while he keeps you close but it felt that you did something so intimate together. Like a couple who passionately had sex in bed.

After cleaning yourselves Jeno reached for your towel and wrapped you nicely, looking at your boobs without feeling ashamed because you’re looking at his cock too. If it was a normal day, you’d have sex right then and there, but you both don’t want it as of the moment.

“Wait here don’t get dressed yet,” he said when you’re back in the locker rooms.

And when he came back still wearing a towel wrapped around his waist, he dropped on bended knee as if he’s going to propose. But instead of reaching for your hand he reached for your leg, and made you wear the underwear that he took from you during the dance. “I washed it myself,” he said and placed a quick soft kiss on your waist before he gets up.

It was a sweet gesture. Not normal, but it was sweet and you liked it. He got up, turned his back and left you to finish putting your clothes. You wonder if he’ll wait for you outside because truth be told you don’t want this to end yet.

After you finish drying your hair and making yourself decent again, hoping that someone is waiting for you outside already. You saw Jeno waiting for you outside the school beside his car, looking so handsome on fresh new clothes with the cutest smile. Of course he waited.

“How was your day?” he finally asked you.

“Bad,” you answered and took a big bite on your hotdog sandwich. “I pushed my team so hard today that everyone just hated me during practice,”

“Same thing happened to me, me and Haechan almost got into a fight in the middle of practice earlier. I guess this what happens when we don’t practice at the same place,” he joked but his intentions were cute. “I’m not sure if were going to win this season. If we don’t, I would have to wave goodbye to my dream college”

“Jeno, we’re aiming at the same college, and knowing what they look for an athlete, it’s impossible that you won’t get scouted. I mean, you’re the reason why we keep winning. College football is no joke, so hang in there just do your best”

“College cheerleading is no joke either, you have to get in for me. I’m not taking cheers from a stranger it had to be you,” he made you giggle and let out small laughs that echoes around his car. You just nod at him and wiped the ketchup from his lips.

“Thank you and I’m sorry I’m always an asshole when it comes to you,” you said perfectly ruining the mood but Jeno did not let that happen.

“And for someone who used to hate each other, we sure are better when we work together,” he said, leaning closer to you for a kiss that you didn’t avoid. “Watch me win you fair and square,”

You smiled at what he said and returned the kiss to shut him up. And the next thing you know, you’re making out with Lee Jeno in his car in the middle of an empty fast food parking lot.

“You’re the first boy I ever kissed, Jeno, and I want you to be the last.... I mean you’re the first sincere kiss-“

“I get it, I get it,” he said and continue kissing you again.

After that fateful day, you’ve been each other’s rocks and support system. Meeting under the bleachers, showering last so you could shower in peace together after every weekend practice, and have secret dates whenever you want to. It was a beautiful time even though you’re not yet officially together. And that proper date he was meaning to give you, finally happened and you feel bad for avoiding this amazing moment to happen.

“Okay, I think we should stop” Jeno cut the kiss when you’re both getting too carried away. Knowing that his parents are away and you have the house all for yourselves just makes everything even more dangerous now. But instead of stopping you pushed him on his bed and went on top of him. Putting both of your legs on each of his sides and earning a cute giggle from him. “Alright, if this is what you wanted”

Jeno then traded places with you, putting you beneath him effortlessly and kissing every exposed skin he sees while slowly lifting your shirt and unclasping your bra effortlessly. Cupping your boobs and kneading them gently while he makes you crazy with his touch and the way his tongue swipes on your lips and dominates the kiss with that powerful tongue.

When he removed his shirt, you expected to see a very hot body, a perfectly sculpted abs, and his strong arms. You were prepared to see that. What you didn’t expect to see were the scars and bruises he got from practice and from his past games.

“Hey, don’t mind the scars. They don’t hurt anymore,” he reached for your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours. Even though his body was all ruined like this, he looks so happy in life and this current moment. You then realized that Jeno is more than football and his cocky attitude. He’s a man who loves the game and is willing to do everything for his dream.

And that.... fucking turned you on that you attacked him with kisses and quickly removed your pants, Jeno did the same with quick movements until you’re both wearing only your underwear and ready to do it for the first time. He was the first one to remove his boxers briefs and thats the time when you remember how your friends drooled over Jeno’s big dick. It was true.

And that’s going inside you. Every inch of that veiny, thick cock of Jeno.

He removed your panties next, kissing your legs as he swiftly pull it down you thighs and expose your pussy to him. Whispering sweet words, comforting and filthy ones to balance this beautiful moment. You smiled when he pulled away from kissing you and finally lining his cock to your entrance.

Pumping his cock in between your opened legs and in front of your wet pussy, he started to tease you with the tip of his thick cock. Up and down, Jeno made you feel how raw he’s going to fuck you tonight. He started kissing and touching your body, slowly pushing in your tight hole and stealing your breath away, making you breath so heavily and grip his strong shoulders as he oh so slowly put his entire cock inside you.

“Does it feel nice?” You struggled talking but you managed to let out decent words. He nodded and rolled his hips, making you both moan and hold each other tightly. That’s how nice Jeno feels around you.

He gave you a few gentle thrust, stretching you good so won’t get hurt when he starts fucking you hard. You watch his cock go in and out of your pussy, and you can’t help but feel proud that it fits perfectly. “I love seeing your smile,” he said when he caught you smiling. He kisses the top of your breast, softly and just making you feel crazy with his soft lips around your nipples. Suck it good and twirling his hot tongue around it until your nipples are hard and swollen.

You didn’t notice that he has been fucking and giving you harder and faster thrust that his bed is starting to creak so bad and your bodies are slightly bouncing from the mattress. The pleasure was so nice especially its you that he’s fucking now, that his mind just went blank and started kissing your breast wildly which made you part your lips and furrow your brows. You then reached for him because you can’t take the pleasure anymore and made him kiss your lips instead.

But just as you thought that the he will go slow, no. When his chest hit your breast, and you’re now bodies to bodies that he’s putting his entire weight on top of you, Jeno became wild again and pinned your legs on the mattress and started fucking you hard.

Thrust and thrust you feel the impact on every inch of your body, and feeling the sting and hurt on your cunt as he continues to fuck you so good and the pleasure did not stopped from there. He lifted your left leg, using your flexibility wisely and placing your leg on his shoulders, earning a kiss on your leg when he saw that you got excited with the new position.

Jeno went back to fucking you again, putting his left thumb on your clit to draw small circles while his other hand is holding your leg safely as he fucks you good again.

“Jeno- ahh! Fuck, not on the pill” you informed him with heavy breaths and delicious groans. Gripping his sheets tightly as you slowly feel your orgasm build up and made your toes curl. Pushing Jeno away and closing your legs immediately so could curl in a ball and enjoy your orgasm. You didn’t noticed that he came on your body the moment he pulled out, painting your skin with his hot and thick cum.

Suddenly it was quiet and only your heavy breaths can be heard.

“Sorry about that,” he apologized immediately and placed soft kisses on your shoulders while you still curl and shiver.

“No it’s perfectly fine,” you reached to him for a kiss and then Jeno proceeded to cleaning up his mess. Kissing your sensitive body while he wipes it and putting you both in the mood again for a second round, but stopped yourselves and just enjoy the night while you talk naked in his bed.

“Can you please play more safely? I see you go to the nurse’s wing every after game, but I never understood why until now. I though it’s just simple bruises.... and not, dislocated bones and-“ He cut you off with a soft giggle and caught him blushing like crazy. Who is this man? Is this really Lee Jeno? “What?” You added.

“Nothing. You’re just so cute when you worry for me. I remember back then you told me you wish I break my ankles during one of our morning practice because we had the field that day first,”

“Yeah... I’m sorry about that. You’re just so, annoying sometimes and I just hate you so much,” you gave him a hug as a sorry for what you said back then, which he gladly accepted and planted a kiss on your forehead.

“How about now? Do you still hate me now?” He squeezed you butt cheek to remind you of what happened earlier and how you loved every second of it.

“I most definitely, still hate you Jeno Lee” but of course, Jeno did not buy it and started kissing you again. Touching all the right places and whispering the right words. Until you two fucked again that night and he had to drive you home a little later that usual. This was the first night that you realized, you never wanted to be apart from Jeno.

“Y/n,” he called you just before you enter your house. You turned around to face him and gave him a sweet smile.

“Jeno Lee?”

“I love you,”

“I love you too,”

And just like that he made your heart jump again without any warning. Leaving you safely and driving away from you with both happy hearts.

When Jeno’s most awaited game finally came, by this time around you’re both still seeing each other secretly.

“There’s my favorite cheerleader,” he grabs you by the waist and admire you in your cheer uniform. You rolled your eyes at him and raked his long hair away from his face. Reminding him to play safely tonight.

“Win for this pussy,” you said with a smirk. You haven’t had sex with Jeno for some time now because he was so focused with practice and you think, tonight is just perfect.

But the handsome guy has something more in mind, “uh uh, Im winning for something else, this game is big I need a motivation,”

“Well, name it lover boy and I’m happy to give it,”

“Your heart. If we win this game we will be officially together and of course, the sex is just a bonus. What do you say? My place?” he’s waiting for an answer that will give him the energy that he will need all throughout the game.

You kissed him on the lips and encircled your arms around him and said, “Deal” then placed another one, “Now go win because I don’t want to spend my life with anyone else”

“You just had to set the bar high right before a game, huh?” He smirked and asked for another kiss. Completely transferring your balm to his soft, addicting lips.

Of course you and Jeno were excited and all for the thrill that night. The game wasn’t easy to win, but he worked hard inside the field while you worked hard outside the field, making sure that the people will have faith to Jeno until the end of the game, win or lose.

And speaking of win or lose, of course you’ll still make him your boyfriend after tonight. You just couldn’t let his heart break two times in one night.

But no worries, because as you wave your pompoms and screamed for Jeno’s name to take the winning shot, everyone celebrated with you.

“THAT’S MY BOYFRIEND!!!” You shamelessly shouted and came running towards to Jeno together with the others and Jeno caught you in his strong arms and lifted you off the ground. Kissing you in front of everyone which made their jaws drop.

That night, you have never been so flirty around Jeno, and he had never been this sweet to you. Maybe, you two were just holding it in and now that nothing is stopping you, you’re ready to love each other with everything you got.

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

One Step at a Time (Love’s Wrecks, Part 5.)

Description: Heartbreak is one hell of a bitch. And one Edward Teach could tell you all about it. Yet thanks to Fate being a little trickster, there’s a person who enters his life to remind him of how nice it is of having someone he can confide in, someone he can care about, and someone he can trust. To remind him, what it means to have a friend for better or worse.  

Part Summary: After suffering through an emotional breakdown, Edward realizes that you might be a person he can talk to about his feelings, ideas, and everything that is going down inside his head. Meanwhile, the crew tries to guess what happened and even has a very surprising request towards you.

Word counter: 4.5 K

A/N: To explain it: yes, the reader is reading The Ugly Duckling by Hans Christian Andersen and yes, it mirrors the pilot (when Stede reads them Pinocchio) deliberately. I realize that The Ugly Duckling was written after both Stede and Ed had been dead already, but guess what? Pinocchio is even fucking older, so, please, don’t be negative about small details. Anyway, I love these small bonding scenes and when I’m trying to write down someone’s lines (dialogue), I always imagine how they’d say it. Shit suddenly gets 10 times funnier inside my head.

Tagging: @missdictatorme, @soliyra-the-sunbringer @le--petit--croissant

Series master list:  h e r e   | Series play list:  h e r e

Waking up and laying in an unknown room was one of the wildest things you've done in a long time. Maybe even ever, to be frank. There was this horrendous smell of stale rum lingering about, the dust was settling down with each passing second. God fucking dammit, it honestly was one of the worst smells you woken up to - it was sharing the number one spot right next to John’s farts. With a quiet swear, you managed to sit up and look around you. You've been too sleepy to connect all the dots from the previous evening. You've surely had to be on board the Revenge, but you couldn't name in which part of you currently were. This was some brand-new scenery for you. Clearing your throat, you decided to explore the place a bit.

For a moment, you’ve been looking around a wardrobe that was genuinely impressive in both size and variety - and for a reason, you immediately knew that none of the clothes belonged to Blackbeard himself. There was an enormous amount of luxurious fabrics, from normal linen to some expensive-looking silk; some were exotic with intricate patterns decorated with gold or gemstones. The color pallet was lively, from plain grey or black to teal blue and shiny orange. Honestly, it was a breath of fresh air after seeing all the boring, torn, and dirty clothes the boys wore all the time. And more so, all the clothes smelled fresh too. This simply had to be a remnant of Stede Bonnet.

With a small frown, you yawned and stretched your back, almost screaming when something gentle tickled your calves. Looking down on your feet, you’ve noticed that you’ve covered and tugged into a long pink silk robe with an intricate pattern as well. And it was at that moment when your brain started to remember what had even happened the evening before. With each new memory, your eyes were widening in panic; bringing the tea, Blackbeard crying, you trying to comfort him… Fuck you. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you moaned inside your head, this is beyond bad. This is horrible. What the fuck have I done?

Now, there was the question of what to do next. You could’ve stayed in the sulking room and panicked for a bit more, you could’ve picked yourself up on your feet and walked out of there, or, also, you could’ve just opened the window behind you and just jump overboard before either of the two idiots (the idiots being the captain and his right hand) will have the chance to execute that stunt themselves. It took you quite a bit to go through all of the options above, but you decided for living (just for now anyway); so you picked yourself up on your feet, hung the rope on one of the hangers, and straightened up. The newfound confidence didn't stick around for too long, though - moments later, you've been walking out of the sulking room hugging yourself, looking around like a hunted animal.

At first, you didn’t see him anywhere; that made you calm down a bit as you crept towards the table to pick all of the dishes up. You’ve been just putting the last bowl onto the tray when the wooden floor crooked right in front of the captain’s bed, making you jump since the sound alone scared you. To be frank, it was amusing to watch you from the shadows. You've been moving at a surprising fact pace, constantly looking left and right. The room was still pretty dark, so you didn’t blame yourself for not seeing Blackbeard earlier - and this time, you could see that it was him operating the body. His eyes were dark once more, the emotions were huddled up and frankly, you haven’t been able to read them; to be honest, it was freaky to look him in the two black holes in the middle of his face. The man was now furrowing as he tilted his head a bit, furrowing while taking in each move you took - his eyes slipped on your parted lips, on your widened eyes and shaking hands. You’ve been the most horrified he had seen you... Even more terrified than when he barely missed your forehead with that empty bottle.

What happened last night? What was that short-circuit you've noticed yesterday? Well, that wasn't that hard to explain. At least inside his head. For you, it must've been unexplainable. Edward was weak. Why was he weak? Because it was the three-month anniversary of Stede simply leaving him alone and about; three months of endless depression, anxiety, and hatred. Sometimes, Blackbeard couldn’t be the default setting, and yesterday, you’ve seen Edward taking control, letting the myth sleep for a bit. The anniversary made an absolute mess out of him, making him unable to control himself, he wasn't able to keep it in. All Edward wanted to do was to drink as much alcohol as he could, his goal was to pass out, to numb the pain for a bit; and you’ve been there to experience it first hand. And not only to see it but to help him go through it.

This was the part that caught Edward off guard. Ever since he started bottling his emotions once more, which happened after Stede disappeared, Edward didn’t have an option to confide in anyone. No one gave two cents about how was he feeling, nobody wanted to listen to his pathetic whining, and anyone on the ship hardly cared for Edward's feelings by now. Well... Not until yesterday. No one except you, it seemed. Maybe that was why Ed gave in so easily once you offered him the option to be vulnerable and broken, to open up without using any words. The man was so deprived, alone, and sad that he jumped after that offer. Now, you knew how weak he could be. What confused him the most was the fact that it… Felt relieving. It made him feel better.

Three months was a long time to lose himself to Blackbeard and to the chaos of the pirate way of living. It was very easy to slip back into the myth, to act as he was supposed to. Violence helped ease things a bit; aggression too, but it wasn't a healthy resolution in the long run. It wasn't any kind of resolution if he had to be frank. Truth be fucking told, Blackbeard wasn’t at all what Edward wanted to be. The day before? Maybe, yeah; did he want to be Blackbeard this morning? No fucking way. You weren’t Stede by no means, you didn’t know Edward well nor did you share any kind of connection to him (you weren’t even attempting to be a pirate), but there was this warm, gentle look in your eyes. And that was why you reminded him of Stede as much, because of that shy, gentle gaze. It was reminiscent of the emotion Edward associated with the word 'safety' - it was the look of friendship. So, Edward took another step forward and furrowed, even more, piercing his eyes through your ashen face and terrified expression. Then, he put one of his thumbs behind his belt and stopped on the other side of the table.

“I told you to leave me alone, didn’t I?” - The man asked, lighting up a smoking pipe while shooting sharp gazes your way. He’d swear you were about to faint; you put a palm on your chest, you started to breathe heavily and your eyes were tearing up. “And if I’m correct, and I know I am, Izzy also told you to leave me alone. And you, against all direct orders, stayed here with me. You’re nothing more than a fucking tea brewer, which isn't any kind of useful position, by the way, and yet, you still managed to ignore us both. The most important men on board this vessel. That’s fucking fierce.” - That was the moment you started to sob, looking at him like a horrified child that was just caught doing something naughty. Blackbeard brought his eyebrows closer together, waiting for your answer; if you’d have known him, you’d surely notice the hint of unsaid admiration in his tone. The man honestly thought that not accepting direct orders just to offer him comfort was fierce and pretty fucking brave.

“I shouldn’t have done that, sir. I don’t know what I was thinking. You’ve sounded so… So lonely and I just think I got caught up in my emotions. I obviously wasn’t thinking clearly, ‘cause, you know how women get sometimes, and…” - The gaze you gave him was legitimately heartbreaking. Edward had to stop himself for a moment; what were you thinking about? Wait, what did you think he was going to do? Maybe he frightened you too well the first time and the rest was his reputation? - “Please don’t murder me because of this mistake, sir. I swear that I won’t tell a soul, not even a word. Nothing. I’ll be as silent as a…” - “Thank you.”

The man blurted out so suddenly that your speech halted in a matter of a second. You've been just thinking about various things you could be as silent as to when he repeated himself. - "Thank you." "I thought you were... Angry. Like, very angry." - You mumbled, not sure as to what you were supposed to do. The man thanked you, but what did it mean for you? First and foremost, it had to mean that you were not being killed off that day. Which, as usual, was something you sighed in relief for. To be frank, you noticed you were sighing like that a serious lot in the past few weeks... Was that a bad sign? - "Like murder me angry." "I should be, I suppose. If you want to die this much, I can... Kill you... I suppose." - The man answered with a furrow, barely containing the first waves of laughter shaking his body.

"Oh, if that's not an option, I'd very much prefer to stay alive. That sounds so much better." "Well, glad we have that off the table. On the other hand, I have a favor to ask you." "Oh, anything, captain. You can trust me. Anything you'd need, I'm your man... Woman... Whatever." - You blurted nervously, still shaking like a scared child. Edward didn't quite understand it; you heard it first hand, he had no intentions of killing you. Why were you still scared? Why did you barely look him in the eyes? Why didn't you have a normal, nice conversation with him? And, well, since Edward was never the patient one, his palm suddenly hit the desk of the table, making each piece of the porcelain set shake on the silver tray as well as made you jump a bit. - "Can you stop being so fucking scared? I'm trying to have a conversation with you, woman, relax already! I don't need you to stick your head up my asshole, just talk to me, goddammit!" - The man growled out in a deep voice, making you look him in the eyes again.

He let his palm lay on the desk, closing his eyes as he huffed out the smoke. Great. That much for making you more relaxed, huh? Using violent gestures, being angry, and overall just pissy. It wasn't his fault, that much he was sure of; Edward just forgot how to have a normal conversation. Izzy and he just spat insults into each other's face with Ed threatening to execute Izzy if he says one more word by the end of each interaction the two men had. It was so difficult trying to... Talk to someone again. "Must be my temper issues." - Edward stated with a neutral tone of voice, huffing smoke out once more. The next bit was what made you fully pay attention to the guy, though, simply because you'd never suspect he'd say that. - "Excuse me, Mrs. Trott." "My apologies, captain. What would you like me to do?" - This time, you added a small, sweet smile as you looked him in the face, slowly picking up the tray. The man in front of you was clearly struggling with forming the sentence, but he nodded after a while, looking away from you; this clearly wasn't an easy conversation for him.

"If it wouldn't be too strange, would you, in any case, serve the tea a bit later than usual and... Perhaps stay to have a talk?" - Edward mumbled out silently, so silently that you almost missed it. Oh dear, would you look at that - you were sure he was about to kill you just a minute ago and now you were about to have a tea party in the evening. That was, surely, a strange turn of events. On the other hand, you knew you couldn't exactly refuse this offer... See, you had to bear in mind that the man in front of you, no matter how shy and hurt he seemed to be, still was Blackbeard. Being alone with him still meant a risk; all it could take would be one bad look or a word and he could become agitated in a matter of seconds. But a straightaway refusal would put you in a really bad spot too. So, as usual, you just smiled and bowed a bit. - "It would be my pleasure to accompany you in the evening, sir. Should I bring you your morning brew, as usual?" "That would be nice of you, thanks. See ya." - The captain nodded and walked away from you, hiding in the back of the cabin once more. After that, you finally picked up the tray and waltzed out of the room, taking in a deep breath as you walked out of the small hallways, finally smelling the fresh air with the hint of salt. The weather was just beautiful - there were no clouds in the sky, the sun was shining and the sea was calm. Olivia was sitting on the rudder, right in front of Buttons' face, looking into the distance with her eyes narrowed; Buttons was standing right behind her with his eyes widened and yet, still absent, as usual. Swede was taking care of the rigging and Pete, as usual, was crawling on all fours and polishing the wooden part of the deck. It was yet another beautiful day on the Revenge... Not for too long, though.

As soon as the crew heard the door clicking back into the place, all the men turned their heads your way. Oh, God, yeah... You had some explaining to do, didn't you? You didn't think about what you were gonna say to the boys once you'll see them. The realization hit you as soon as you saw them, doing their daily chores; you had to come up with a story, no matter how stupid the story might be. And, as if this alone wasn't enough to bring your mood down a bit, it wasn't only the boys who saw you - Izzy, as soon as you appeared, cleared his throat and widened his eyes. Oh, fuck, you were in deep trouble, weren't you? ¨

"May I have a word, lady Trott?" - The small scrag called out to you, making you stop with a tensed smile on your lips. - "Why of course, sir." - You answered with a wide smile, following him to the back of the ship. As soon as he was sure you were out earshot, he caught the wooden railing in his palms and clenched his jaws. Izzy was about to lose it at any moment. "What did I ask you to do?" "Not to talk about anything I'd see or hear in the cabin, sir. Not like I planned on it, anyway." "That's cute, but that's not all, is it?" "Ah, I see. In my defense, I acted on the captain's behalf and with his permission..." - "But that's not what you were asked for, you... Moron." - Izzy hissed with his voice so high-pitched that you wondered about how high his testicles had to be. - "I asked you not to react to anything that would be happening in there, does that ring a bell?" "I'm once again telling you that I acted with Blackbeard's personal permission and with his well-being in mind. Do you have any idea about what your captain looked like yesterday, sir? Like a piece of mess." - This time, you stepped closer to Izzy and pushed your face into his personal space, hissing back at him. Being under Edward's wings, in a sense, made you feel confident. Since the captain sure as hell wanted you alive in the evening, that meant that Izzy couldn't get you killed throughout the day. - "How in the hell would you want him to obtain his reputation as Blackbeard if he's barely capable of walking out of his goddamn bedroom? Hm? And guess what, sir? The captain wants to talk to me in the evening, so if even try to lay your dirty rat fingers on me, you will have to explain yourself to him. Now, move out of my way, please. Have a wonderful day, sir."

As you left Izzy standing there, you were grinning to yourself with pride; the idiot was staring at you with his mouth open wide, not understanding anything you were blabbering. Where did that confidence come from? Who were you? A few days back, you'd start shaking just because Izzy would look your way. And now? Now, you were threatening him. - "What the fuck?" - The man mumbled as he watched you open the door leading into the kitchen, disappearing there with the silver tray in your palms. Long story short, you weren't wrong. Each member of the crew was super curious about what had happened the evening before - where were you? Why didn't you come? Why was your spot empty? Swede was so upset by your sudden disappearance that he couldn't shut his eyes the entire time.

As soon as you delivered Edward his morning brew of tea (this time, he was nowhere to be seen or heard), everyone started asking you, telling you their theories; they, in fact, had so many theories that they kept on coming until the very evening. To be honest, you and Jim had the time of your lives laughing at all of the theories; one being more stupid and outrageous than the one before. Wee John thought that you were turned into a mermaid and jumped off the ship to report to King Triton, the king of the seas. Swede was sure that you spent your night tied up to the hull of the ship as a punishment for being a woman (because Izzy sure as hell was that kind of a bastard), Frenchie told you a whole ass story about witches and cats... And the absurdities were becoming more and more absurd.

Only Jim wholeheartedly didn't care about where you've been or what you've been doing; they were enjoying all of the lunatic theories since they had to go through the same experience when the men learned they were not a mute man named Jim. Since you've been going through the theories while eating dinner, you two had been sitting at the head of the table, laughing while eating your goulash. "I think I'm going to disappoint you, guys." - You snickered after Buttons told you his personal theory. It was so crazy and intense that you only barely understood what it had been about. - "What really happened is that... I slipped on a soap bar in the cabin, hit my head, and passed out. As soon as I woke up, I packed everything up and left the cabin. But the witch-slash-cat theory? That's a fire one, Frenchie. Really good."   "That's not what happened, is it?" - Oluwande asked with a grin on his face. "No, it's not." - You admitted, snickering as well. "And you're not going to tell us, are you?" - Jim asked with a smile on their face, watching your grin widen as you shook your head. - "But all of the theories were really good and creative. Why aren't you guys storytellers or something? Holy hell, imagine how would it look like if any of you could write."

As you used the phrase, storytellers, everyone's face saddened a bit. Everything that was happening at that table was so reminiscent of the days when Stede was around. The atmosphere was so warm and nice, everyone was a wee bit more careless than usual, and everyone felt nice. And damn, it felt good, to forget everything for a minute and to simply compete about who will come up with the most insane, weird fucking story. They missed the evenings when Stede would just sit down among his men, trying to learn more about them, telling them various stories and laughing at theirs. Suddenly, Swede looked you in the face with his baby-blue eyes and started pleading in a quiet, soothing voice... - "Y/N... You can read and write, right?" "I suppose I can." - With a chuckle, you tipped your bread in the goulash again. The entire crew was watching your face, making you very uncomfortable. With a snort, you jolted a bit. - "Yes. Yes, I can fucking read. Why?"

"Would there be a possibility..." - Pete mumbled, having others joining him. - "Yeah, just a slight one, you see?" - "It's kind of stupid to ask, but it could be really nice." - "And we mean... Very nice." - "Oh it would be great..." - "We would love that, honestly. Isn't that right?" - "Absolutely, man." "All of you, stop. Just tell me what you need me to do. Yes, I can read and I can write too, but how does that help any of you?" "Would you mind reading us a bedtime story?" - Wee John asked all of sudden, catching you off guard. With each passing day, the crew of Revenge surprised you more and more. At first, you thought they had to be joking. All of them were adult men, no shit they'd ask you for a bedtime story, right? Right? The longer you looked around the table, the more obvious it was becoming that none of the men was joking. They seriously wanted you to read them a bedtime story. There were moments in which it was very easy to forget that no matter how tough these men attempted to be, they were still softies on the inside. And so, with a big smile on your lips, you nodded. - "Fine, I'll read you a bedtime story tonight. Did... Did he do that?"

"Every night." - Jim answered, looking into their bowl of goulash. While they were going through memories inside their head, there was a small smile appeared on their lips. - "Back when I was still just... Jim, he read us the fairytale about the wooden boy. That was fun and... Wee John cried like a small girl." "Of course I did, the boy made it! He became life!" - John started defending himself with passion, turning the conversation into an argument rather quickly. So Stede read them bedtime stories... Wow. How much there could be to know about Stede Bonnet? It almost felt as if you were following in his footsteps and no matter what you learned about him, it was always a pleasant surprise. The man seemed to care about his crew so deeply and with so much warmth and love... Why did he leave? What happened? More so, did it have to do anything with the conflict he and Edward had going on? Even if you learned new information each day, it still felt like you barely knew anything about the Gentleman pirate.

An hour later, the tea set was prepared on the silver try; you were sitting on a barrel in the subdeck with a laters swinging above your head, watching the men go to sleep. You chose one of the children's books that you got from the boys; when Lucius heard about this strange request, a painful smile appeared on his face, but he didn't say anything. There was a gentle smile on your face; Wee John was holding a doll in his enormous fist, Roach was hugging a bag of potatoes with a contained smile on his face, Swede was looking up at you and Pete was sort of laying in front of you. - "Everyone tugged in?" - You asked after a few minutes of fuss. Suddenly, the entire underdeck became silent and all eyes were fixed on you. "Alright... Close your eyes now, just like that... That's it... Oi, what's the fuss? Listen, Fang, if you don't close your eyes right now, we ain't starting." - With a portrayed furrow, you pointed your finger at him and warned him. Suddenly, every man in the room was looking at him, telling him to lay down and to close his eyes. Wow, fairy tales were taken rather seriously on this ship, you realized. - "Guys, I think he got the memo. Calm down." - Waiting for a bit longer, the men finally closed their eyes and waited for you to start reading. And so, you decided to finally open the book and started reading. - "Ehm..." - You cleared your throat quickly, finally looking at the first page. - "It was so beautiful out on the country, it was summer - the wheat fields were golden, the oats were green, and down among the green meadows the hay was stacked..."

As you continued on reading, the room was becoming more and more silent; until the first snores disturbed the heavenly peace. Stopping yourself, you put your finger on the word you've been just reading and looked around. The men were all sleeping now, snoring and breathing loudly, farting and slobbering all over the place. You managed to barely read half of the first fairy tale; the ugly duckling was just bumped into the wild ducks who had been wondering about who the hell the creature is. Sighing, you quietly slipped down off the barrel, putting the book on top of it. Tiptoeing on the tips of your feet, you caught the lantern in your fingers and blew the candle before leaving the underdeck altogether. You had a promise to keep.