#why do you as a man want to strip the flesh off another man's bones? 🤨🤨

[martyrbat]

he can smell that hes in hea—*gets shot*

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

I've had a bit of brainrot today and have to share so I can get it out of my head (maybe) so feel free to ignore lol I've been thinking of 141 having a civilian spouse (separately, just in case there was confusion) that only ever refers to them by their call sign/rank during an emergency situation. Using it just immediately sets off sirens and they see red. - 🐍

Yesss. Got a bit carried away with this one, lol. Only did 141 specifically, lmk if you'd like to see anyone else! Also tried my best to make this GN!😊

141 With Reader Who Uses Their Callsign in Emergency Situation

Warnings: mentions of guns, violence, unwanted advances/touching, stalking, swearing, injury, crying--- I promise it has a good ending😅

Simon Ghost Riley-

"Golly, aren't you a fine looking thing." You heard a voice say behind you, as you were standing at the bar getting you and Simon another drink. Simon had just gone to the bathroom, so you knew you were on your own for this.

You turned around and were met with a man double your size, a sickening smile making its way on his face.

"Oh, thank you." You mustered a small smile before turning back to the bar, praying the man would take the hint and leave you alone.

"No, I mean it. I could take that little ass of yours home right now." The man came closer, and you could just start to feel his breath on your neck, making you cringe.

"I have a boyfriend, I'm sorry." You tried softly. You were desperate at this point, your eyes searching for Simon.

"I don't see him anywhere." The man smiled, his teeth were yellow, and his breath reeked of cheap booze.

"He just went to the restroom." You mumbled.

You felt a hand grope your ass slightly, squeezing at the flesh there. "Mmhmm, if I were your boyfriend, I'd never leave you unattended like this."

You cried out, moving to swat the guys hand away, to no avail. Nobody around you seemed to notice your predicament, and you were starting to grow scared.

The man pushed you up against the counter, his hand now gripping your waist. "Be a good little pet and come with me, okay?"

You struggled against his hold and screamed out, "Ghost!"

Simon, who had just exited the restroom, heard the wail and immediately started to run to you. What he saw had him seeing red.

He forced himself between you and the man and grabbed his hand roughly. "Who the fuck do you think you are touching them."

The man looked as if he was about to piss himself, as Simon was nearly a half foot taller and twice as bulky. "Sorry, man, they acted like they wanted it."

Simon seethed and twisted the man's wrist with such force that you swore you heard bones cracking. "Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. Here. Before I decide to do something that'll end with me in jail."

The man let out a small whimper, grabbed his now bruised hand and ran for the door.

Simon watched as he fled, then turned his attention to you, his eyes softening. "Y/N? Sweetheart, are you okay?"

Your eyes filled with tears as you threw yourself into Simon's chest. "Thank you, Si."

"You don't have to thank me. That's what I'm here for, yeah? Why won't we go home, I'll draw you a bath." He pulled away and cupped your cheeks, carefully pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

You nodded your head slowly and let Simon lead you out of the bar, not expecting him to crouch down on the ground once you made it outside. "Si?"

"Cmon, get on my back. Long way to the car." He gestured to his back and helped you on it, holding your legs tightly as he walked you to his car. He'd be damned if he ever let anything like that happen again to his person.

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

You were walking around your local department store one afternoon with Kyle, looking to find him some new dress shirts. The two of you had a friends wedding to attend that weekend, and Kyle didn't have many outfits to pick from.

"What about this one?" You picked out a light blue stripped dress shirt, holding it up for Kyle to see.

"I'll look like a grandpa with that one, babe." He joked, waiving away the shirt.

"You'd be a hot grandpa." You countered, putting the shirt back.

"Oh hush. I gotta run to the restroom, I'll be right back." He chuckled as he gave your arm a squeeze. You watched him walk away with a small smile before returning to the racks in front of you.

Unbeknownst to you, there was a gentleman who'd been following you and Kyle around the store for some time now, and now that Kyle was gone, it was the perfect opportunity to strike.

You were just rounding the next row of racks when the man came up behind you and started to pull on your purse. You cried out, trying to pull back, but the man was too strong. He yanked with one mighty tug, ripping the purse from your arm, and shoved you backward, sending you toppling into the racks behind you.

"GAZ!" You screamed, as the man stared at you, frozen, before turning the other way and running.

Kyle was walking toward you when he heard you scream, and his blood ran cold. He immediately sprinted in your direction, running right into the man with your purse. The man fell backward, and Kyle looked down to see him clutching your purse.

He put his foot on the man's stomach and pushed down hard. "Give me the fucking purse, asshole."

The man refused and tightened his grip on your bag. Kyle saw red and promptly punched the man square in the jaw, knocking him out cold. He grabbed your purse as a few workers finally came to check on the commotion.

Kyle looked to see you clutching your head in pain. He ran over to you, sliding to a crouch position once he got to you. "Baby! Are you okay?"

Your bottom lip trembled as a strangled cry escaped your throat, and Kyle grabbed you, pulling you to his chest. He had to talk himself down from going and giving the man another few punches.

He tucked his arm underneath your legs and lifted you up bridal style. "I'm so sorry, babe. I've got you. Let's go home. Yeah?"

Kyle spent the rest of the night watching over you and icing the bruise that formed on your head. He made a silent vow that day, that he'd beat the ever loving shit out of anyone who dared touch his baby again.

John Price-

BANG!

You looked up from your computer in your home office at the sound of the loud noise. It was late at night, and John was asleep, so you were concerned as to what caused the sound. You grabbed the pocket knife out of your drawer and made your way quietly to investigate.

Peeking your head around the doorway, you saw a large man making his way through your shared home with your husband. It appeared he'd somehow broken in through the front door.

You let out a small whimper, the confidence you had before now fading. John was fast asleep upstairs, and you had no way to get to him without revealing yourself.

You watched silently as the man started to rummage in your drawers, trying to find anything valuable he could take.

He started to draw closer to where you were, and as you slowly crept backward, the floorboards creaked underneath you.

The man was immediately notified of your presence and caught a glimpse of you as you tried to hide around the corner.

"Hey! You!" He shouted, immediately running toward you.

You sprinted in the other direction, narrowly missing his outstretched hand. You ran into the bathroom in the hallway and tried to close the door before a hand came out to stop it.

"Nowhere to run now." He said, a terrifying smile lining his face.

"PRICE!" You screeched, your heart beating rapidly.

John's eyes flew open at the sound of your terrified cry. With adrenaline coarsing through his veins, he flung himself out of bed and grabbed his handgun from his bedside table. He slowly crept down the stairs and took in his surroundings.

He saw you right away, crouched in terror before a man, who had you at gunpoint. John swiftly made his way behind the man before hitting him hard on the back of his head with the butt of his gun.

The man fell limply to the floor, and you let out a strangled sob. "John."

"Hey love, it's alright. I'm here." He approached you slowly, his hands raised up to show you he meant no harm. You held your arms out to him, and he pulled you into him, holding you tight. "I've got you. Nobody's going to hurt you."

He pulled away for just a moment to call the cops but held a grip firm on your waist, letting you know he wasn't ever going to let anything happen to you.

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

"Alright, babe, I'll run and grab the stuff at the bottom half of the list. You grab top?" Johnny asked, eyeing your fairly large grocery list.

"Sounds good, thanks, love." You smiled at him and tore the list in half, sending him on his way after a quick peck.

You watched as he strolled away, basket in hand, and made for the toiletry section of the store.

You were comparing toothpastes when you felt two men staring at you. You subtly turned your head in their direction, and they quickly looked anywhere but your direction.

You felt a slight sinking feeling in your belly and quickly threw one of the toothpastes in your cart. You made for the next aisle, looking around deoderant for you and Johnny, when the same two men appeared again, walking slowly down the aisle toward you.

Trying to brush off the occurrence as a coincidence, you threw what you needed in the cart and started to make your way to the shampoo aisle. Your resolve quickly crumbled when you now realized the men were following you.

The store was rather empty, so there was nobody close by for you to turn to. You sped your cart up and headed in the direction you thought Johnny might be. The men were hot on your tail, making it clear they were trying to get to you.

You felt one of their hands touch your back, and you let out a cry. "SOAP!"

Johnny was just finishing up his portion of the list when he heard your scream. His heart was beating rapidly as he dropped the basket and ran to you.

"Y/N?" He called out and was met with a horrifying sight. You were cornered in one of the aisles by two men and were crying, your hands up in a defensive motion as you crouched on the floor.

Johnny immediately approached. "Leave my partner the fuck alone."

The two men whipped their heads in his direction, rubbing their hands together. It was clear they were looking for a fight. Johnny lifted his shirt slightly, revealing his sidearm strapped to his waist. "Try it, I fucking dare you. You won't like the outcome."

The men clearly knew better than to create such a scene in a store and decided to flee.

Johnny watched as they ran and crouched down to your level. "Baby. Are you okay?"

You choked out a sob and wrapped your arms around your husband. "I was so scared, Johnny."

Johnny gritted his teeth in anger, he hated that anyone made you feel this way. It took everything in him not to go chasing after those bastards.

"I know, baby. I'm here now, though. Why don't we quickly finish up this trip and grab some takeout, yeah? I'm not really feeling up to cooking anymore." He pulled your face away gently and stroked your tears away. "I've got you, always, okay?"

You nod slowly and let him help you up. He grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with yours, not letting go until you both reached the car.

[billy-hardgrove]

He’d been to the Harrington house a few times in the past, though never inside.

Beers shared around the pool, long conversations inside the Camaro when the Hawkins winters got too cold for Billy. Yet he always declined going inside. The mere thought of stepping over the threshold into Steve’s home made his gut wrench into an all too familiar nausea; that same sickness that had haunted him his whole life.

Steve always seemed disappointed, but he had never pressed the issue or asked why. Which, ironically, had made Billy more uncomfortable than if he had questioned him. It meant Steve had some level of understanding, some amount of knowledge as to why he was so scared of them spending time together under the same roof.

But once Billy was discharged from the hospital, he had nowhere else to go. His father was already gone, their old house had been sold, what was left of his belongings packed away in boxes and left with Susan. Sure, she had offered to take him in, but their relationship was still��� tentative, and he was well aware she was going to struggle taking care of Max. He didn’t want to add to that burden.

So when Steve offered him a place to crash, he took it. Something temporary, he told himself, until he was back on his feet and able to take care of himself. Every bone felt brittle, every muscle still ached, and even his blood felt like it was itching inside his veins. He may have finally expelled the invader from his mind, but its presence still lingered in his body. Unnatural chills crawling up his flesh, and the Summer heat felt unnaturally uncomfortable for him still.

“So!” Steve clapped his hands together the moment they stepped into the hallway, dropping Billy’s bag off near the stairs, and turned to the blonde with a smile. “There are two guest rooms. One next to me, and one across the house next to my parents.” He jabbed over his shoulder with his thumb, up the stairs, Billy’s pale gaze following its direction. A room?

“No. I’ll take the couch.” He shuffled past him, hissing quietly under his teeth when their shoulders bumped; the motion having Steve turn with a deep sigh.

“Come on, man. You need a proper bed. Take the room across the house. Far enough away from me, right? And my parents won't be back until…” The brunette purses his lips and scratches at his chin, before shrugging his shoulders dramatically. “Whenever they feel like.”

Billy had briefly stopped his advance to listen to the other man, though his words weren’t enough to sway him, and he continued on through into the large lounge area. He was barely taking in his surroundings, that sickness was already building up in his gut, that early warning that he was doing something wrong. Something bad enough to earn his wrath.

He was gone. He didn’t care. So why was he still so… scared of him?

This place was huge. Rich. Another reason for the dirt poor blonde to feel so out of place; as if his mere presence was somehow bringing down the value of everything around him. The Camaro had been the only thing he owned that really cost that much. He’d saved, and saved, and worked his ass off to get it. And now it was likely in some junkyard, left to rot and rust, or stripped for parts. From the looks of it Steve’s dad could snap his fingers and have another two identical cars delivered to his home by tomorrow.

Well, he could, if he was here.

“Pretty sweet set up, Harrington. Big place like this, all to yourself.” He knew almost immediately, from the look on Steve’s face, that the other teen didn’t feel the same way. His arms tucked under themselves awkwardly, a quick clearing of his throat, eyes darting to the side as he obviously thought up how best to respond to that.

“Yeah. Uh— Oh! Kitchen is through here.” With a forced injection of pep he beckoned for Billy to follow him, and he did, begrudgingly. He had already eyed the large sofa he was going to claim as his own, and in all honesty all he wanted to do right now was collapse onto it and pass out. He hated how exhausted the drive from the hospital had left him. Barely any walking or physical exertion, and his body was already at its limit.

“It’s not super well stocked. I just… get in whatever I want. Only need to do a big grocery haul when I know mom and dad are coming home. So, if you want anything, just let me know and I can-”

“I’ll get my own stuff.” A silence fell between them after that interruption. A tension not too dissimilar to that night outside the Byer’s house. All those months ago. Only this time Billy couldn’t keep eye contact with Steve. Only this time Steve wasn’t standing in his way defiantly, he was offering a hand of assistance. And it felt near impossible to accept it.

He knew he was being ungrateful, but that awareness was surrounded by a wall of flame fuelled by rage, and anguish, and everything else he was keeping bottled up after what had happened to him. It was hard keeping the fire back, pulling it in deeper to himself so it wouldn’t lash out at others, searing his own flesh in the process.

Every spark of anger, no matter how brief, that he’d felt whilst in the hospital was like a knife through his heart. It was accompanied each time with a bang, and a flash, and a memory of the trunk of his car slamming shut. Each time a different face staring up at him. The face of the people who weren’t here any more. Because of him.

“No offence, man…” Their eyes met, and Billy was already prepared to be offended by whatever Steve was about to say. For someone with so much charisma, Harrington wasn’t always the best with his words. “You don’t have a penny to your name. And I’m not about to give you a damn allowance just so you can do your own grocery shopping. So just let me, yeah? Or you can come with me, when you’re able, I mean.” The sheepish smile was evident that the older of the two was expecting backlash to that, his feet instinctively digging into the tiled floor in preparation of a physical blow.

Billy’s hands clenched into fists, but he didn’t move from his spot. Even the tensing of his muscles hurt. He hated how weak he felt. Physically, emotionally.

“I’m not going to leech off you, Harrington.” He was speaking through clenched teeth, nostrils flaring with deep breaths as he still trying to hold back the flames. He can’t unleash them upon Steve. Not again. “If I was I’d have bit the bullet and just gone to stay with Susan and Max. This is just until I can get my ass a job and start earning cash. Alright?” There was a determination in his eyes that Steve didn’t want to question. They both knew it was wishful thinking. That Billy’s recovery process was going to be a long one.

“Billy-”

“No!” He finally took a step forwards, raising his voice to cut Steve off once and for all. “I am not some parasite. You hear me? I am not helpless. I’m getting a job. I’m getting my own money, and my own food, and the next bed I sleep in will be my own. You got that?!” He reached for the kitchen counter and grabbed at the corner, trying to make it seem as casual as possible to hide the slight stagger in his stance. But Steve noticed. And simply nodded.

“Sure, man. Whatever you need.” There was defeat in his voice, but a small smile on his face. “I’ll go get some pillows and blankets for it, at the least.” He turned and headed upstairs, leaving Billy to simmer for a moment. He had let some of that heat out. Not much. But enough to make Steve weary, and aware, that this was the same Billy Hargrove. Beaten and broken, but still that same wild, unpredictable animal.

He thought about going after him, though he didn’t even know what he’d say. He’d feel better if he was able to rile some sort of reaction out of Steve. If that anger was met head on, if it was matched. Steve had done it before, he knew he could, but he also knew it was a bad idea; that the other had done the right thing is stepping away and letting Billy cool off. Before he exploded and ended up hurting them both.

Heal up. Get a job. Get his own place. Survive.

How hard could it be?

But first? He needed to sleep. He needed the bruises over his body to fade, for the scars to finally heal. He needed the voices in his head to finally give him some peace.

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47134606

[buglyknight]

800) i danced

came when it was first

coming up

i danced like

nobody was there to love

i became

hungry canines

tore blanket like

tearing strips of meat

could feel my bones moving

sent it off

wedding shotgun

i was me

every age

elementary school gave her a

Garra card from naruto TCG just so she'd

eat lunch with me

im dancing

care to dance?

i danced with your ghost

twirled you round the room

why so many of you asking me out?

not gonna choose

let's dance

only want to date me for four days?

sure, not like i have a say

let's dance

i'll make you a sculpture in minecraft

we'll blow it up together

let's dance

oops did i say i love you too fast

sorry, not gonna last, my bad

i'll dance this one out

want to make-out in maplestory?

i'll be a henny-whore with you

we can dance

almost fell down backwards

tripping over my own two feet

just dancing

roll it over the shoulders

quick stretch break,

all good?

back to dancing.

time for a concert

you only brought tickets for one

would you look at that?

you're the only one here!

let's dance

you never thought you were one for concerts

too many people, too loud

look at you now

you're dancing

oh, hit that high note

yeah, scream this one out

listen to those Layers

the drums are jumping

that guitar is winding

those synths are melting

oooh damn that shit's clean

woah that funk is greasy

dirty never felt so good

neat never felt so right

dance with them

for us at prom

the wedding night's on

that house with the alcoholic mom

dancing her off

ive never moved so much

grooved so much

i was panting with hunger

slow aching guts

i was the dog

i was a colonial settler during the witch hunts

i was a preteen girl

a mother feeding her cubs

i was me at thirteen

i knew what it took to kill a man

to hold a hunted fox in hand

i slipped off some flesh for you to chew

i became the spiders

i was so many things breathing in the room

i became all of them

i let them all become me

and i was dancing

headbang with the rhythm

i danced till you were just

dressing for the salad

i danced until you were

just another pair of hands

i twirled you round at the fair

we danced

spun you right out of thin air

i danced

THE SHRIKE came and went

stuck me to the branches and

left me as an offering

i danced

you were just a girl

but in this room, ive got the world

and a 26 year old feeling pent-up teenage angst

fuck you, dad!

i danced

middle school love affair

i danced

parents went to prison

i danced

brother with the gun

i danced

would you care to dance?

we should have danced.

i'm dancing

i'm screaming at the top of my lungs

there's a jet engine in my movements

i wish you would have danced with me

and this is it

let's dance about it.

you're just a sweater

a morse code letter

let's dance

a night at the fair

a breakup over text

who cares?

let's dance

an eighteenth birthday

a wish upon every star

what did you say?

we danced

sorry, did you want to play that one back?

hold on, i'm dancing

a dinner date

cheating on your fiance

let's dance

sorry

i'll dance

for every me

i'll dance

yeah, i'm crying

singing you a eulogy

but it's alright

i'm dancing

see me with my air guitar

jumping on my bed like a bounce house

pretty cool, right?

want to dance?

see my head banging in tempo

in band class, you got pantsed

quit crying, just dance

they said you had a small dick

jokes on them, you're packin 7 inches

dance about it

is it ironic you like when it's

called pathetic?

dance about it

hey, kid,

you never danced

too busy feelin caged

want to dance?

never were free enough to have a chance

wanna slip off those chains?

and into this new sweater

it's so comfy

mom gone to bed screaming again?

she asleep?

yeah, looks like it

brother stopped hitting you for a moment?

stopped abusing everything?

yeah, thanks, let's dance

slipped away finally, so,

i danced

i danced

i danced

you tired yet?

yeah, let's dance

your muscles screaming?

yeah, let's dance

your lungs have never been more clear

holy shit you can breathe through both nostrils

why do you keep cats around when you're allergic

'dunno, i like em

let's just dance

smile with your canines

looks more like a snarl

tongue between bloody teeth

front tooth with a chip in it

let's dance

look, you got out, kid

just a few scars to tell the time

he got hit by car

he mellowed out

let's dance

feel it through the shoulders

roll it round the world

it comes back with the downbeat

push it up the hill

and dance

smile, free

you alone in this trance?

yeah, so i held my own hand

took my own soul out

you missed your chance.

you missed your chance.

i was everything and

we danced.

we danced.

i danced.

[szemiesza]

"Hmm. Move the ankle," he specified, tapping him on the bird-like, raised joint. The new legs were designed in a way where, like many animals, the actual part touching the ground when he would walk were the toes, and the "foot" was raised in the air.

After another inspection, he corrected something at the left knee, then made sure that all the necessary veins and arteries – that is, those that weren't already there, grown within the muscles and bones – were in place. He gestured to the other ghoul once again, and he repeated the process, breathing heavily in pain. His hand shook, having already injured himself a few times. The man yelped and passed out, the knife halfway through his flesh. His body tumbled to the ground with a loud noise when he accidentally caught onto the tub.

Melchior groaned in irritation and grabbed the ghoul, ripping off the strip of flesh with his teeth, creating a much nastier wound than the knife would have. Of course, he closed it, not wanting to risk more damage, but he seemed very annoyed at this turn of events.

"This is why you are getting this honor, not him or anyone else," Melchior said to Wojtek after he swallowed the flesh. "You want to follow orders and are able to do so. Look at him, passing out after four measly wounds that were immediately closed. Meanwhile you're being nice and earnest, you don't struggle, you don't vomit, you don't faint. Very good." He praised him, then cradled his face in his hands and bit his wrist, letting the blood flow down his hand and into Wojtek's mouth.

@scientificbughunt

Melchior looked at the calendar. There was a week left until the party – not a lot, unfortunately. He frowned, remembering about the legless ghoul. No, he couldn't leave him crippled like this when there were esteemed guests on the way. He had to make him presentable.

The serpentine vampire slithered through the hallways of his haven, reaching the kitchen soon. He obviously didn't come here often, though he used to cook just for fun about twenty years ago; he got bored of that pretty quickly, though. He scanned the room and, as expected, found Wojtek lying pathetically in the corner, nibbling on some bread. Melchior didn't say anything, just grabbed the ghoul by the arms and hoisted him over his shoulder, then left the room.

[lubdubsworld]

Someone to Love.

Hello!!!

Here is my gift for 8k subscribers!!!

Alpha Jungkook x Omega OC Werewolf Au!

Genre ! : Fluff . Mild Angst. Mild Smut.

Work Count : 6k

Summary : Widowed Omega Aerin isn't really looking for love. But Jeon Jungkook the handsome alpha who gets washed over a waterfall, is willing to offer it to her anyway.

Complete!!!

The thing about living in a clan as small as ours, was that word always travelled fast.

We were a close knit pack, everyone knew everyone and more importantly, everyone was always in everyone’s business. Which is why, it was no surprise that, even before the Head Alpha could send word for me, I already knew about the young alpha who had , apparently, washed over the waterfall. The drop was a good twenty five feet and the bottom of the pool littered with sharp rocks. He was obviously injured.

As the healer, I would have to be there to examine him.

Nevertheless, I waited till Jinyoung came knocking on my door, sometime after the midday meal, his face urgent and voice a little shaky. I had just finished wrapping my daughter against my breast, tying the end of the flannel across my back and over my shoulder . I pulled on the ends, securing the wrap around my torso, and making sure her limbs were free to move about.

Sera giggled, chubby fists wet with drool as she shoved them into her mouth. She was teething and that meant excessive drooling and a penchant for biting everything I sight. But like this, she was usually well settled, the warmth of my body and my scent lulling her to a drwsy state. She would be asleep by the time we reached the injured wolf.

My son was still out playing with the other alpha pups in the woods. He wouldn’t be back till sundown. And even if he did, Joowon was almost nine winters old now. He could fend for himself in the hut till I got back.

I quickly grabbed my shawl, wrapping it over my shoulder, before moving to the door and opening it.

“Aerin? Alpha Kim sent for you, there’s an injured wolf you need to tend to.” He said urgently and I didn’t miss the four or five young omegas hovering behind him, giggling and coy. I shook my head. Apparently, even a half dead, injured alpha wasn’t safe from these younglings. I gave them a chiding smile but they merely laughed some more.

“Of course, Jinyoung . Let me just grab my bag.” I quickly picked the small carry-all tote I used for visits. It had almost all the tinctures, ointments and salves that I stocked in the apothecary attached to my hut, in smaller quantities. I also kept a polished set of needles and tools in case I had to extract stubborn splinters of jagged rock ends out of flesh. For being one of the strongest breed, it was ridiculous how often alphas got hurt doing the silliest things.

Like going over a waterfall.

As we began the short trek over to the Head alpha’s cabin, the throng of smitten omegas surrounded me, looking bright eyed.

“They say he’s very handsome, unnie. And young!” One of them laughed.

I hummed.

“Then one must hope the rocks in the pool didn’t leave too much of a mark .” I said casually.

“I wouldn’t mind a scar or two, as long as he has his…you know..” Another set of giggles.

I shook my head, laughing. The girls were incorrigible but that was their right. They were all young, barely twenty and unmated. They knew nothing about the marriage bed , nothing about the intimacy that came with it. The love the commitment. My heart ached.

Two years and still my heart ached something fierce .

“Just tell him he has to rest for a month at least, unnie. Tell him he can’t leave for a month and I’ll work my charm.” The Head Alpha’s daughter Jisoo gave me a sharp little smile and I shook my head.

“I’ll do no such thing. And I don’t appreciate you lusting after a man who may well be dying.” I said sternly and Jisoo had the good grace to blush.

“Unnie, its just that…. I’m bored of all these dumb alphas panting after me. They’re so…uncouth. I just want to meet someone new.” She pouted.

We reached the small hillock that would lead to the Head alpha’s house and I gave her a smile.

“Well, in that case, I’ll patch him up real good for you. But till then, you and your girls, why don’t you go occupy yourselves elsewhere.”

Jisoo wrinkled her nose but listened and I smiled at Jinyoung, hugging sera closer to my chest and making haste to the hut in front of us. Jinyoung led me to a side door and further into a room at the end of the narrow corridor.

“Aerin! Child… You’re here!” The Head alpha held his arms out and I embraced him quickly. The injured alpha was laid out in the middle of the room on a thick pallet of straw and blankets. They had stripped him of his wet clothes and he looked like he was sleeping. I stared at his face and felt my breath catch.

He was breathtakingly beautiful. I couldn’t look away. Right up , I could make out three flesh wounds, jagged and slightly deep : one across his brow, another across his shoulder and one right over his chest. Dark ink curled all over his torso and he looked young but also like a warrior.

“We just found out he’s from the Jeon clan. The head alpha’s son.” Yugyeom, knelt by his shoulders, pointing out the inked shoulder which marked him as the heir to the Jeon pack.

“We’ve already sent word. They’ll be here to fetch him in a day or so. We need only tend to him till then. Well. Give him all hospitality and treat him like a king. We need to remain in the Jeon’s good graces.” The Head alpha said sternly and all of them bowed.

I quickly, grabbed my bag, laying it out on the floor and crawling over to his side.

“Hot water and spirit , please.” I told the maid standing by but the Head alpha quickly held a hand up.

“Aerin ah? I have a meeting here with the Min and Jung clan leaders. The autumn festival is set to begin tonight. Its impossible for me to keep him here and all the other alphas are going to be busy too. I want him to get the best care possible and I can think of no one better than you, fort this task. Can we shift him to your hut?”

I swallowed nervously. I didn’t really entertain patients in my house. Especially not alphas. My son got jittery and my daughter was too used to my own scent.

“As a personal favor to your alpha?” He said insistently, eyes flashing red and I realized it wasn’t a request. Rather a command.

“I… Yes, alpha.” I said hesitantly. “ Can I just examine him now, make sure nothing’s broken, before we shift him?”

“Yes of course my dear.” The alpha bowed before stepping aside. I quickly glanced at everyone else.

“Please leave.” I said quickly and they flushed, bowing before moving out of the room.

“Should I stay , Aerin?” Jinyoung asked nervously and I shook my head. “ Just wait outside and close the door for me, Jin.”

Once the door shut, I quickly glanced down at Sera who had curled into my chest and fallen asleep. I brought a bit of the fabric by chest over her head, so she wouldn’t get too much of the alpha’s scent. Kneeling down, I went about peeling the blanket off him.

He was a beautiful man, I thought absently, long limbs and thick muscles all over and it was no doubt his strong, well kept body that had saved him.

Other than a few more surface wounds on his legs and a gash on his thigh, he seemed relatively unharmed. I did run my fingers over his joints and arms, carefully looking for any swelling or discoloration that would signify broken bones. I carefully gripped his shoulders, turning him over gently to examine his back. I made a mental note of all the cuts that looked like they would have to be sewn together, so I could prepare enough string for it. I leaned over to press my ears against his chest, noting the rise and fall of his lungs.

A hand brushed over the back of my head, gentle and soft.

I jumped, wrapping both hands around sera and scooting back in panic, eyes wide as I stared at the man on the floor, now blinking tiredly at me.

“I… I..” I couldn’t get my words out and he groaned .

“Am I dead? Are you an angel?” He whispered.

I blinked, blood rushing to my face as I tried to calm my breathing.

“Jinyoung!!!” I yelled sharply and the door opened, Jinyoung stepping in and staring wide eyed at the alpha on the pallet. He was struggling to sit up and I quickly pulled myself together.

“Alpha Jeon! Please… You must stay still. ” I said quickly, pushing my palms against his chest, helping him lay back down, trying to ignore how his eyes danced all over my face, nostrils flared .” I’m Aerin, the healer from the Kim pack. You remember what happened today?”

He groaned again, lifting a shaky hand to press against his head. I moved closer, gently reaching out to grab his wrist, pulling his fingers away from the still wet wound on his brow, and his eyes clashed against mine, wide and steady. He stared pointedly at where my fingers curled around his wrists and I let go quickly.

“Yes….. one of the pups almost went over the waterfall. I… I tried to get him out.” He said softly. He glanced at Jinyoung. The latter looked away, clearly nervous.

“Pup?” I asked, heart dropping and he gave me a small smile. I tried not to let my gaze linger on his lips as he chuckled lightly.

“Can you help me up, kid?” He asked softly and Jinyoung startled, glancing at me.

I shook my head. I turned to Jungkook, heart racing. He sighed, resting back against the bed.

“Don’t worry, angel. I managed to toss her back to her father just before I went over the edge. I’m certain that she’s perfectly alright.”

“well, that’s a relief.” I hesitated, feeling awkward. Sera stirred and Jungkook’s gaze went to her again.

“she’s yours?” He asked gently and I blinked, glancing at Jinyoung nervously. It seemed too personal but I couldn’t imagine not answering without seeming rude.

“Yes, sire.” I bowed politely, moving back a bit more as Jungkook inhaled and reached out again, this time gripping my wrist. He scented the air and I flinched , yanking my hand away and quickly standing up, uncomfortable. He was still staring at me, gaze steady.

“You… You can tell the others that he’s conscious. We can move-” I stopped when the alpha cut me off.

“You don’t smell mated. You haven’t been with a man in years.” He said quietly and now Jiyoung looked uncomfortable too.

“Alpha Jeon, I-”

“Jungkook. Call me Jungkook.”

My heart jumped at the thought of addressing him so intimately. I shook my head.

“I’m looking for a mate. Can I court you, angel?” He said suddenly and my jaw dropped.

“There’s… There’s a dozen unmated omegas outside.” I choked out. Was I dreaming ? This couldn’t be happening.

“That’s not what I asked. Whom must I speak with? To court you? Your Head alpha.” He turned to Jinyoung. “ Please send word to Alpha Kim that I require an audience with him. And that its very important that he come here as soon as possible.”

“Please don’t.” I said quietly, feeling my body tremble and he froze.

“What’s wrong?” He said quietly.

I shook my head.

“I have a son. I’m not… I have a son. He’s almost nine winters old. He still… He loves his father. The man who raised him… I can’t…. it would break him. Please, Alpha Jeon. You have power here and I have none. Your word is law and I’m bound to honor it but please, please consider. My son…”

Jungkook’s gaze softened incredibly at that.

“I have a ten year old brother.” He said gently. “ What you’re saying is that it isn’t the head alpha’s approval that I need. It is your son’s.”

I blinked, thrown.

“I…”

“Then you must promise me this. If your son…” He paused, “ What’s his name?”

“I… Joowon.”

“If Joowon tells you that he wouldn’t mind having me in his life….will you consider letting me court you.”

I could only stare. Jinyoung cleared his throat looking completely enthralled by the drama unfolding in front of him. I saw a glint of mischief in his gaze and felt my hackles rise.

“Alpha, there’s a festival in our clan. It lasts three weeks and is filled with festivities and joyous celebrations. I do believe the Kim pack would be honored to have you stay with us, enjoying our hospitality and the bountiful gifts of nature we here in the lowlands enjoy.”

I gaped at him in disbelief.

“I… “

“That’s settled then. I will send for my pack members as well. They would love to share this time with you.” He turned to me.

I exhaled, certain that he had hit his head on the way down the falls.

“You’re insane.” I said softly, shaking my head. “ You’re free to enjoy all that my clan has to offer…. But, I’m not on the menu, Alpha Jeon.”

I quickly stood up.

“Tell Alpha Kim that he can fend for himself in one of the huts we have for heats and ruts. I’ll send one of my apprentices to sew up his wounds and apply salve on him.”

“I’m afraid not, Aerin. You know what the chief said. It has to be you.” Jin grinned and I glared at him.

Jungkook was smiling too.

“Come now, angel. Just because you don’t like me ….yet… don’t shun your duties.”

Good Lord.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Fucking hell, what the actual fuck…” Jungkook swore and I glared at him, grabbing a strip of white linen and balling it up before pressing it into his mouth, gagging him.

He stared at me, eyes wide in surprise and mouth open around the fabric.

“Stop swearing in front of my son.” I snapped. Joowon laughed, carefully threading the twine through the eye of the cleaned needle. He dipped the twine and the needle into the warm water and the spirit again.

“Come now mother, you know I can say worse things.” He stuck his tongue out and I glared at him.

“Not in this house, you can’t. Also keep it down… I’ve just put Sera to bed.” I carefully pinched the skin over his chest together before reaching out and slipping the needle into his skin. I worked carefully and diligently, focused on the task and when I was finally done, I glanced up, only for my gaze to clash with Jungkook’s.

“I.. were you staring the whole time?” I asked, blushing. Jungkook spat the gag out and grinned, boyish and naughty.

“Can’t help it. The view is truly breathtaking.”

I rolled my eyes.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said that there are omegas here who would love to be courted by you. You haven’t met any of them yet and that is why you seem to be … so… “ I shook my head.

“Joowon ah… Who’s the most beautiful woman in this clan?” Jungkook asked firmly and my son hummed from next to me.

“Mother, of course.”

I gaped at the pair of them.

“See? I trust Joowon’s judgement implicitly. “ Jungkook shrugged.

Joowon laughed again and I didn’t miss the looks he kept tossing at the alpha. Curious but also laced with a lot of admiration. I wasn’t surprised. Joowon had never been suspicious or hesitant in offering his friendship to people. And Jungkook had regaled him with tales about hunts and fishing trips and kayak rides in rapids….. and the younger was now clearly intrigued and almost halfway to smitten with the man.

My own heart raced , pulse pounding in a way it hadn’t in years. And yet, I knew it was futile. Men like Jungkook…. They didn’t really fall in love with women like me. All these flowery words, all this flirting….it was for one thing only. And once he got it, he would leave. Of course he would.

But that was the problem. For the first time in two years, I considered it. Considered letting him have it….have me. But with it , came a nagging wish that he wasn’t joking. That perhaps, I wasn’t as….undesirable as my late husband had made me feel.

I shook my head to clear the haze of dreams, impossible girlish dreams that came with his scent and his proximity. I didn’t want to go down that road. I wasn’t… I may be younger than Jungkook but I was still too old to be courted and to start a new life with someone. Least of all someone like Jungkook.

I glanced back up at him as I carefully applied salve on the stitches, fingers light on dusky smooth skin. He was still staring at me, and as I bent in closer, his hair brushed my forehead. My eyes fell on his nipple and my mouth went dry. I breathed out and looked up at him, shaking my head and pulling away.

“You’re all done alpha.” I whispered.

His hand crept up to my knee, squeezing gently.

“I’m just getting started.” He whispered and I bit my lips, looking away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Father… you shouldn’t have come .” Jungkook was groaning and I could only stare in horror , trying to process the fact that both Alpha Jeon and his wife were now standing in my hut, fussing over their son and ruffling his hair like he was five years old.

“Nonsense !” Alpha Jeon thundered, making me jump. “ You went over the waterfall and you expect me to not be worried. I brought our healer but I see the Kim clan has an exceptionally talented young healer themselves. My son looks as good as new , dear girl.” He grinned at me and I smiled shakily.

“I’m going to court her, father.” Jungkook said without any preamble and my heart dropped to my knees. Lady Jeon’s gaze snapped to me and I retreated further, clutching Sera to my chest in panic.

“No.. I.. no he’s not. I’m sorry, Alpha, I… I should go…” I dived for Joowon’s wrist, yanking my son along and moving to the door.

“Wait, child.” Lady Jeon’s voice made me still and I bit my lips, squeezing my eyes shut in horror. Surely whatever was coming…it couldn’t be good… t would be the same thing I’d heard over the years, the same threats, the same insults…

“Let me look at you.” Lady Jeon said and I trembled a bit, turning to her nervously, prepared for rejection and annoyance.

I found none.

All I could see was genuine interest that morphed into pleasure as she took in my features.

“What a beautiful girl you are.” She whispered , “ You can do so much better than my savage son, who apparently doesn’t know his way up or down a waterfall.”

Jungkook growled from the bed.

“Mother.”

Lady Jeon gave him a look.

“I’m serious. The Kim clan , I’m sure must have several fine young men, all of them willing to court her. What makes you think they would hand her over to you, Jungkook.” He said regally and I hesitated.

“I… I’ve been mated before. These are my kids.” I said hesitantly.

Lady Jeon blinked.

“Does that make a difference?”

I couldn’t respond, mind in shambles.

“Unless …what we’ve heard about the Kim clan isn’t true? And they are archaic and small minded when it comes to their women?” She said sharply, turning around to glare at my Head Alpha who looked horrified as he bowed.

“of course not , my lady..we… We all treat Aerin with the utmost respect.. She is as our daughter.”

“That is not what I asked. Has she not been courted?” Alpha Jeon asked gruffly and Jungkook made a noise of impatience.

“I’m saying I’ll court her, why is everyone-“

“Quiet Jungkook. “ Lady Jeon said sharply before turning to me.

“Have you not been courted after your husband’s death. Its unheard of for a young wolf to remain without a mate. Did none of the men in your clan step up?”

I hesitated before deciding on the truth.

“Joowon-ah? Could you go play outside for a while?” I said softly and he hesitated before glancing at Jungkook and running off. Once I was sure he was out of earshot I turned to Lady Jeon.

“They only offered to take me on as a mistress.” I said honestly, staring at my feet. “ And … I have a son. Old enough to understand these things. He… He heard his friends talk about how I was … He asked me if what they said was true…. If I was just anyone’s to use or take, now that his father was dead. I…. I had to reassure him that it wasn’t the case…. That I wouldn’t… That I didn’t need to warm anyone’s bed to survive.”

“She’s coming with us tomorrow.” Jungkook growled from the bed and I glared at him.

“Please let me finish.” I snapped. “ And yes, there are men here who feel that way but Alpha Kim is right. They have for the most part, treated me with great respect and I … I enjoy my life here. I’m not lacking for anything..” Except someone to love, someone to hold through cold winter nights, someone to share bright spring sunshine with…someone to kiss in the rain… someone who would go to war for me…

“So? You don’t accept my son’s offer of courting? Is that what you’re saying?” Lady Jeon asked gently.

“Don’t answer that.” Jungkook’s voice came from my right and I stared at him.

“Alpha Jeon…”

“Could all of you give me a moment alone with her?” Jungkook said quietly and Alpha Kim bowed.

“Please let me show you to your resting quarters.” He said gently and Jungkook’s parents shot him one last look before leaving the cabin. I stayed still as everyone filed out, one after the other.

Once it was just him and I, Jungkook cleared his throat.

“Just three weeks.” He said softly, “ Give me three weeks. Three weeks and if at the end of it you tell me that you don’t want to leave your clan…I’ll accept it without argument. You’ll never see me again.”

I sighed in exhaustion.

“You’re going to be here for the three weeks of the festival anyway. My answer isn’t going to change. I’m not going to fall in love with you, alpha Jeon. ” I said quietly.

He grinned.

“I’m going to remind you of what you just said….six months from now…when you’re my wife.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook was out and about three days later and to my utter horror, jealousy reared its head when I saw the extent to which he was popular with the other omegas. I stayed in the sidelines, holding sera and keeping an eye on Joowon, watching Jungkook get accosted at every turn.

But Jungkook it seemed, had no interest in wooing me.

He was wooing my son.

“These are delicious, Jungkook.” Joowon said excitedly, hands full of candied fruits and honey dipped grapes.

“Stop calling him that…” I hissed , but Joowon merely stuck his tongue out at me, stuck firmly to Jungkook’s side. Jungkook sat on the hard ground of the hut, surrounded by wooden strip and workmen tools, building a miniature windmill for Joowon who had never seen one before. The wind didn’t hit the lowlands much but Jungkook’s clan lived up hill and the windmills helped bring water to the canals.

He gave me a grin, his eyes trained on my lips as I sung gently to Sera, rocking her back and forth on my arms.

“You must give some of that honeyed fruit to your mother too, won-ah… perhaps she will have something sweet to say to me.” He grinned.

I rolled my eyes.

“I believe you’ve heard enough honey dipped words from the many omegas who can’t get enough of you.” I said impishly.

Jungkook laughed.

“ All I need is one word from you my lady….” He whispered and I flushed.

“ One word? No matter the question…? What word is that. ” I shook my head.

“Yes.” Jungkook smiled. “ Because it is that way with me. No matter the question , if you were the one asking, my answer would be yes.”

I stared at him, thrown by the magnitude of sincerity in his tone.

“Mother, ask him if he hates you…” Joowon giggled snapping me out of my thoughts.

I laughed and Jungkook glared.

“You’re supposed to be helping me brat.” He said with faux anger, eyes still excessively fond as he pulled my son into a playful headlock.

I watched them wrestle around Joowon smiling in a way that I had never seen him do in a long long time and my heart ached. Was it wrong… I wondered, to be this greedy? To want a lifetime of this….

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“ They say you never mourned him.” Jungkook sat on the rocking chair, shirt unbuttoned and Sera lying on his chest, the warmth of his body and the staccato of his heart lulling her to sleep . I sat on the floor, leaning back against the wall, Joowon was already asleep nect to me, head resting on my lap.

I watched him, watched the large, rugged hand, so gentle on my daughter’s back, stroking her gently, as he hummed sweetly.

“there was nothing to mourn.” I whispered bitterly, threading my fingers through my son’s hair, the silky strands falling through like water.

“He wasn’t a good man then.”

I shook my head.

“He married me when I was sixteen. And when I was old enough to see him for what he was, he didn’t want me anymore. And he died because he tried to rape the Head Alpha’s daughter.” I felt that familiar sickening feeling of disgust.

Jungkook didn’t say anything merely staring off into the fire blazing in the hearth.

“Is that why you think…you’re too old?” He asked gently and I flushed.

“It didn’t help with my self esteem.” I admitted.

“And is that why you..hesitate? To tell me how you truly feel.”

“It’s complicated. I … It s not easy baring my heart to you…” I looked away.

“You’re beautiful. I want you. Everyday I feel like I’m falling deeper.” Jungkook said quietly.

I stared at him, stunned.

He turned around and smiled at me.

“It’s not complicated for me. Its hard to watch you keep me at arm’s length. It’s hard to go to sleep on the floor, knowing your warm body is at touching distance. Its hard watching these omegas mistreat you because they’re jealous of the attention you get from me. And its hard….telling myself I can’t just pull you into my arms and kiss you in front of them all so they know . ” He smiled, “But telling you how I feel? It’s not hard at all.���

I felt my mouth go dry and stared at my knees.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Marry me.” Jaebum had cornered me by the apothecary and I stared at him in shock.

“What?” I snapped, “ What nonsense is this? Move out of my way.”

“Alpha Kim wants Jisoo to marry Jungkook. He has asked one of us to get you out of the picture. And no one else wants another man’s sloppy seconds. I’m the only one who agreed so you should be honored. Just say yes and come with me.”

He made to grab me and I stumbled back in terror only to crahs into a broiad back, right behind me. A familiar scent and strong arms coming around to hug me.

“Perhaps, Alpha Kim should reconsider his plans. Because I’m sure he doesn’t want the entire Jeon clan to come to war with him.”

Jaebum stepped back.

“you would start a war over some omega?” He scoffed.

Jungkook grinned shaking his head.

“No. But I would start a war over my woman.”

Jaebum scoffed again before spitting at his feet and walking away. Jungkook glared at him till he disappeared from view. My limbs started trembling the moment I realized what had just happened. After years of working for these people…healing them and mending their wounds….Was this how they saw me?

I went limp in his arms and he hugged me close.

“Angel….are you alright?” Jungkook whispered and I swallowed, turning around and staring at him.

“I… They… Why would he do that?” I whispered and Jungkook reached out cupping my face gently.

“I don’t know. But he’s an idiot. As if I would let another man lay a finger on you…” He said softly and I laughed, shaking my head.

I looked back up at him, letting my gaze fall to his lips. As if on cue the heavens opened and it began to rain… Jungkook swore, moving to find shelter but I grabbed his arm, pulling him closer.

“Alpha Jeon…” I said quietly, water dripping down my face as the rain intensified . “ Will you kiss me?”

Jungkook’s eyes went comically wide. He was already dripping wet, hair falling in soaked strands into his eyes.

“Wh-What?”

“I’ve waited for many years for this kiss. A kiss in the rain. With a man who would go to war for me.”

Jungkook laughed at that and I stared as he leaned down, gently pressing his lips to my forehead. Tears sprung at the tender gesture and I gripped the fabric of his tunic hard. Laughing I buried my face into his chest, as he pressed a multitude of kisses on top of my head.

“Angel. When I kiss you for the first time…it’s not going to stop with a kiss.” He winked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leaving my clan was easier, when I reminded myself of what they had done. But I did my duty, offering my greetings and farewell to all the elders, before moving to link my fingers with Jungkook , who held Sera in his arms.

“ I owe you my gratitude. Because you’ve kept her safe all these years. But from now she holds no ties to your clan.” Jungkook said firmly, and I stepped closer to him.

I watched as Jungkook’s father shared a ceremonial glass of wine with the head alpha.

And just like that, I was no longer a Kim.

I was a Jeon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mother…” I whispered , mortified , watching Lady Jeon, wrap my daughter in her baby clothes, Packing her clothes and Joowon’s clothes as well. “ Please it isn’t necessary.”

“Nonsense. Jungkook and you need to spend time together. Alone. And I need to spend time with my grandchildren. I’ve already missed out on nine years of Joowon’s life , I refuse to miss out on another second. Besides, he has never seen a windmill he says? My husband has made arrangements for us to pitch our tents right next to one.”

I could only smile and watch as my excitable son practically bounced off the wall, eager to go on a trip with halmeoni and harabeoji.

Jungkook stood next to me, wrapping both arms around me.

“Say the word and We’ll leave in a hour right behind them.” He said gently and I smiled, shaking my head.

“No… your parents want this. I can tell. Let them enjoy some time with their grandkids.”

“Excellent.” Jungkook gripped my shoulders and turned me around.

“I’m in the mood for some honeyed words.” I said quietly.

“Jeon Aerin. My angel. Mine and Mine forever.” He said softly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Six months later :

Jungkook pressed kisses down my back and I grinned into the sheets, watching the springtime sun spill into our room, soaking the sheets in warmth . I stretched as he gently turned me over, feather light kisses on my belly, now slightly curved . He pressed his ears to the taut skin, listening.

“What is that, pup? Oh…yes.. yes yes… You’re right . Absolutely right.” He pulled away and climbed top of me, gently parting my thighs before slotiing himself in between. I sighed as he pressed against me, gently pushing in till he was buried to the hilt inside me.

“God, that feels good…” I whispered and Jungkook hummed, pressing a kiss to my ear before biting the lobe between his teeth.

“Know what our pup just told me , wife? “ He whispered and I looked at him, curious.

“What?”

“Well, he told me that I should remind you that you were so sure you would never fall in love with me.”

I shrugged.

“I’m sure you were once, pretty sure that you would never get washed over the waterfall.”

Jungkook laughed.

“Touché. So we both admit we’re wrong ?”

“The perfect marriage.”

Jungkook kissed me nose before beginning to move gently inside me again and I closed my eyes in bliss.

Someone to hold during cold winter nights.

Someone to kiss in the rain.

Someone to love in the springtime sun…

Someone like Jeon Jungkook, the perfect alpha.

AUTHOR'S NOTE : I LOVE ALL OF YOU. THANK YOU FOR 8K.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Bent, not broken 4

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; violence; injury; blood; fingering, mean Steve, watching, manipulation, poly dynamic-ish

This is a dark!fic and features the winter soldier and Captain Hydra x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: An attack leads to the uncovering of decades old secrets when you are taken by the deadliest assassin in the world

Note: Tomorrow we’ll have an Andy one shot (we’ll see if it stays that way ahah) but first enjoy this depraved pair.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The soldier pushed you ahead of him. You limped as you hugged your sore ribs, his steps echoing around you ominously. He directed you around endless corners and stopped you at a door. 

He reached around you to push it open and pointed you inside. As he came close, you once more caught a stench of the blood and dirt in his hair. You entered and he followed, the door clanging loudly. 

The bedroom was spacious and lived-in, unlike much of the immense hideaway. There was another set of tall windows looking out into the mountain passes and a large bed against the other wall. You rubbed your upper arms as you looked around and in the milieu of the room, you saw the existence of these two men, if they were still that.

You felt a tug on the back of your dress and as you glanced back at Bucky, he pulled your skirt up roughly and snapped his fingers. You stared at him as he unbuckled the holster around his shoulders and retreated. 

You watched him cross to a metal cabinet with the same censor lock as your door. He opened it and carefully placed each weapon strapped to his body inside. He closed the door harshly and glared at you as he unzipped the slanted zipper of his jacket. He shrugged out of it and tossed it over one of the ample armchairs. 

He pulled off his long-sleeved shirt and set it pointedly atop the disposed jacket. He tilted his head and neared you, curling his fingers under the straps of your dress and lifted them.

You lowered your chin and raised your arms slowly. He stripped you in a single swoop and you shivered as you stood naked before him. His breath grew gristled and deliberate as his fingertips traced the line of your collar bone then the curve of your chest and waist. He lingered on your rib cage and pressed more firmly. You flinched and he dropped his hands.

He shook his head and turned away, pointing to a door just opposite him. You followed the gesture and carefully crossed the room, peeking back at him nervously. You pushed through the door and entered the equally astounding bathroom. 

The round chamber was walled completely in glass and the plunge below made your stomach sink. A vast, round, stone tub stood central to the room, a large showerhead hung above, the floor built in a precise mosaic as an arced counter lined the left wall. It was unlike anything you’d seen before and belonged on one of those ridiculous lifestyle shows that featured houses you could never afford.

You heard a step behind you and looked over your shoulder. Bucky had removed his stained ribbed tank and his boots, his hands loosing the belt at his waist. He nodded to the tall taps and you went over to twist each and tested the temperature from the faucet as it spouted to life.

You heard the rustle of fabric and the clink of his buckle. His bare feet slapped on the floor as he neared and he nudged your hip as he stepped over the side of the tub pulled down the stopper. The stone basin began to fill as you climbed over the high wall and lowered yourself opposite him, just beside the faucet as you folded your legs.

You felt his eyes on you as he let his legs sprawl out, the tub big enough to do so. He sat forward as the water crested his thighs and grabbed your arm. He drew you over to him and you let him guide your body around and against his. He nestled you between his legs and drew your back against his hard front. He took a deep breath and bent his knees to cradle you as he reclined.

You shivered as the water grew higher and watched the foam as the falling stream met the surface. As it reached just an inch below the rim, he pointed over your shoulder and you slid forward to turn off the flow. You sat back and he slung his arms around your middle. You felt his heart beating, quickly at first, and then it slowed as the hot water lulled you.

You sat like that for a while before he gently moved you away from him. He took a cloth folded over the rack and a bottle from the shelf below. He moved toward you through the water and urged you up onto your knees. He began with a drop of the soap on the cloth and washed your neck and chest softly. He kept on, lifting you to your feet until he got every inch of you, then handed over the cloth.

You took it and unfolded it then folded it outside in. You lathered it with fresh soap and looked at his muscled chest. There were some shallow cuts along his flesh and down his arm. As you got the scars that lined the conjunction of flesh and metal, he stopped you and led your hand back to his stomach. He pushed his metal arm back as he watched you scrub away the grime on his body.

You shied away around his intimate parts but he pulled your hand back. You washed him as quickly as you could and when you were done, he took the cloth and tossed it in a wad beside the bottle of soap. He sat you back down and had you clean his sweaty hair with aromatic shampoo, little groans slipping out each time you touched his scalp.

The water was cold when at last he pulled the stopper and stood. He helped you up with a mechanical yank on your arm and guided you out of the tub. He gave you a towel and took one for himself. He pointed you back into the bedroom with two fingers and you obeyed.

He followed and went to the closet. He pulled out a navy blue tee and crossed to you. He pushed it into your hand and parted again. He dried himself and slipped into a pair of flannel pajama pants. He went to the bed and flopped onto his back with a pitiful sigh.

You glanced over as he looked at you. You patted your skin with the towel and pulled on the large tee. You left your towel with his and went to him as he sidled over on the mattress. He drew you down to lay against him and dropped his arm over your middle. You felt him inhale your scent and his hot breath grazed your scalp.

You still felt him between your legs, his rough fingers against your walls, the noise of his ravenous grunts as he tortured you. You held in a quiver and closed your eyes. For now, he was docile and that was the most you could hope for.

★

You were half-asleep when you heard the door. Bucky was snoring into your hair and didn’t rouse as you turned under his arm and peeked past him. Steve shut the door, certain to snap it into the frame so that the man beside you snorted and woke. The soldier sat up and rubbed his eyes, his hand on your leg, and he squeezed as he looked at the other man.

“Mmm,” Steve hummed as he paced along the bottom of the bed, “you smell better at least.”

He came around your side and you leaned away from him as he reached to tug at the neck of the tee. He let it go sharply and dropped his hand to his hip.

“If you wanna sleep,” he snarled over your head, “you can go right ahead but I haven’t even got a taste.”

You were jarred as Steve grabbed the back of your neck and forced you onto your knees. He pushed you down onto your face as your legs were caught beneath you. He slapped your ass hard and you cried out. The bed jostled and you glanced back as far as you could as Bucky clung to Steve’s wrist and kept him from doing it again.

“What did you think would happen when you took her, soldat?” Steve hissed dryly, “hmm? You think I wouldn’t figure it out? That I wouldn’t want to share?”

Steve kept you pinned as he remained in a deadlock with the metal arm. You whimpered as he squeezed and sent a pang down your spine. You reached back to grasp his wrist and kicked your feet.

“Fine, you want her, you get her,” Steve retracted his hand and yanked away from Bucky, “go ahead and fuck her already.” You shakily lifted yourself on your arms as you sensed the intense gaze above you. Steve pushed you back down and barked, “no, just like that.” He rapped his knuckles on your skull before he stepped back, “get behind her and let her feel who you really are.”

“Please,” you begged, “I… he doesn’t want to.”

You looked at Bucky, his jaw ticked as his eyes sparked. He swallowed through his tight throat and you turned back to Steve as he cracked his knuckles and drew a chair up and sat. He put his feet up on the end of the bed and crossed one leg over the other.

“Is that what you think? You think he cares about you?” Steve leaned his head against his fingers, “he’s just a machine. A tool. He doesn’t think, he only wants and takes.” He pushed his head back and let his arm straighten, “I almost think it wasn’t an accident, just an excuse.”

You tried to push yourself up again and Bucky shoved your shoulder back down. He grabbed one wrist and then the other and pulled them behind your back. He locked them in one hand and his other rippled the fabric of the tee shirt.

“I’m right, huh?” Steve taunted, “this is what you wanted all along. Her tight little cunt.”

“Please,” you whispered as struggled, “please, you can stop him--”

“Who said I wanted to?” Steve snarled, “he’s right, this thing between us has gotten a bit dull so why not try something new?”

You sniffed as tears pricked and you pushed your head up as far as you could. You looked over your shoulder and wriggled as you tried to free your wrists.

“Please, Bucky, please, I know that there’s someone still in there,” you begged, “I know it. You saved me. Maybe you hurt me but you helped me too. If you’d left me, I would’ve died--”

“Yes, you would’ve,” Steve snickered, “and you should be wishing you had. Soldat, I wanna hear her scream.”

You gasped in fear as the captain’s icy eyes bore into yours. There was not a mortal in there, only some unloving monster. Bucky tore your shirt up and it split along the middle to the neck. You reached to the end of the mattress and tried to drag yourself away. Steve hit your hands with his heels so that you retracted them with a whimper.

“Please, no,” you sobbed as Bucky gripped your hips and hauled you back against him, “don’t… this isn’t you, I know it, I know it. You don’t want to hurt me, I saw it--”

Your voice turned to a wisp as he shoved two metal fingers deep in your cunt. You whined and quivered around him as he curled them against the rough patch along the front of your walls. He wiggled his hand until the pressure swelled at his fingertips and you muffled your pathetic mewls in the blankets.

“Y- y- you…” you looked up at Steve and wiped your face as Bucky tore his fingers out of you, “you’re evil.”

“Yeah,” he smirked and ran his fingers along his lips, “I think that’s obvious.”

You turned your face down and bent your arms around your head. You felt Bucky shift behind you and the fabric brush against your thighs as he pushed his pants down. He leaned against you and led his tip between your cheeks. You sucked in air and braced yourself as he lined himself up with your entrance.

He slid his tip into you and you exhaled. You clawed the blanket as he slowly impaled you, your lungs empty and painful as he came to his limit. Your walls stretched around him in agony and you bit down on a wrinkle in the duvet and groaned.

“Oh, aren’t you being so sweet, Buck?” Steve sneered, “hmmm, she’s drooling, huh?”

You lifted your head and blinked at him with a scowl. You flicked your lashes through your tears and your nostrils flared in disgust.

“She’s so quiet,” Steve held your glare and cupped his ear, “I’m waiting.”

Bucky pulled back and snapped his hips against your ass. You hissed through your teeth as a wave of pain rolled up your back and scoured your hips. You lifted yourself on your arms as your eyes clung to the captain’s and you clenched your jaw as the soldier thrust again. You huffed through your nose as your arms quaked with each cruel tilt.

“Harder,” Steve ordered as his grin fell.

Bucky obeyed and slammed into you so hard, your legs tingled and your pelvis felt as if it would crack. You moaned and gritted your teeth. He held you steady as he pounded into you, flesh clapping loudly as stifled grunts escaped him. You grimaced as your eyes wetted and the tears trickled down your nose.

“More,” Steve stood and walked along the bottom of the bed as he looked you over, “faster.

Again, his demand was met fervently. You keened and grasped the blankets as the whole bed shook with the frantic fucking. You hung your head as your voice droned from you in a barely muffled whine. You shook your head as you were blinded by your tears and you sniffed as the pain overflowed and drowned out any hint of pleasure.

You gulped as Bucky bent over you, his sweaty torso to your back and snaked his arm around you. He pulled you with him as he sat back on his heels and moved you in his lap, lifting you only to crash your body back down so that your ribs throbbed with each descent. You latched onto his wrist and touched his stomach as you tried to slow him.

“Let it out,” Steve said as he put a knee on the bed, “almost there… this can be over, all you have to do is scream. I know you want to.”

“Why?” you rasped thinly as your nails dug into Bucky’s arm.

“Ask him, I’m sure you’ll get an answer,” Steve got closer and framed your hips with his hand, pushing you down hard with his hands around Bucky’s, “that’s it.”

You exclaimed as the sheer agony rippled through you and you flung a hand out to slap Steve. You missed and hit his shoulder instead. He grabbed your wrists and pulled them above you, holding your arms up as his eyes trailed down and he watched Bucky guide your motion.

“Not inside her,” Steve warned as the grunts grew louder, “we don’t need that shit.”

Steve yanked you up and dropped you onto the mattress. You folded and wrapped an arm around your leg as you daintily touched your tortured cunt. Steve pushed on Bucky’s shoulder until he fell onto his back and leaned in to kiss him as he grabbed his dick. He stroked him firmly until the muscle flexed beneath his skin.

Bucky tossed his head back and came as the captain led him through his climax. Steve didn’t stop until the soldier winced and stopped him with a gasp. He drew his hand away as the other man reclined and turned to you. He grabbed the back of your head and made you sit up as he faced you.

Steve held up his slimy hand and pressed a finger to your lips and poked inside, “you can clean it up…” he growled, “like his good little pet.”

[pixla]

hi hon! i adore your writing and i have a request for tommy: so you know that scene in the caves when alice breaks her leg and cindy has to like put the bone back into place? could that be with tommy x gn! reader instead? and both of them have a really really cute moment where the reader confesses how they never felt alive until they met and started dating tommy? they both survive and flashforward with fluffy smut pls?

Special thanks to the j-st-patricks-day and all my friends who helped with the process of writing this fic <3

broken bones and beating hearts

Tommy slater x nb!reader

Warnings: swearing, graphic descriptions of murder, graphic descriptions of injury (eg. Broken bones and stabbings/cuts), Possessed!Cindy, alice dies, Arnie dies, vomiting, fluff, pet-names, knocking out teeth, sex, unprotected sex, this au doesn’t fit with any of the other films (feel free to tell me if there’s any others)

Word count: 3.2k

POVC= point of view change

Tommy gripped your wrists pulling you out through the narrow cavern as it collapsed only seconds later. “Fuck!” You tucked your legs close to your body, trying to shake the feeling of Cindy's grip around your ankles. “What the fuck is happening?” You looked up as Tommy still held you close, you both too scared to move from the previous near death experience.

Everything was normal. You had all just ran out into the woods, you and Alice teasing Cindy about some stupid witchcraft book she had found in nurse lane’s office. But then Cindy decided to slash Alice and Arnie’s guts open with a machete.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck!” You cried, bawling your hands into fists, wandering down what felt like endless hallways. You both soon realised that you had been going in a circle. It didn’t make any sense, it felt like another dimension or a mirror maze, where everything looked the same, maybe even was the same. “Y/N.” You turned your head to face tommy. “What?” He looked at you confused. “I didn’t say anything.”

You were going to shake it off as you just imagining it, but then you heard it again. “Y/N!” This time you knew it wasn’t Tommy, it was a woman. “Hello?!” You yelled out, hoping that someone had finally come to your rescue, but Tommy just continued to look at you like you were crazy.

You strayed from Tommy’s side following as the voice repeated your name. “Where are you going?” Tommy yelled after you as you wandered, not bothering to pay any attention to his questions.

You followed the voice, bending through the same corridors and hallways, not knowing where you’d end up. It was when you twisted round one corner you halted in your steps. It was a huge room, far larger than any of the ones you had previously found. But the greatest way it stood out was the mass in the centre of the room.

It was dark and fleshy, like clumps of meat thrown into a pile. You gasped as you stood closer gaining a better look at the thing. It was alive. It rose up and down almost like it was breathing and it thumped like a beating heart. With each whisper of your name you grew closer, drawn to it. You reached your hand out transfixed, but when your hand melted into its flesh, you froze.

It all flashed through your brain so fast. Cyrus Miller, ruby lane, billy baker…Cindy Berman. It was every single one of those shadyside phycos, even Cindy. It was all of the pain, all of the suffering and all of the evil. You lifted your hand, a thick slime dragging with. You backed up slowly, expecting to hit a wall. You were soon proved wrong when you felt your body fly backwards.

You cried out as you landed with a thud, Tommy finally catching up to you, peering over to find you clutching your leg in pain. “Shit, are you okay?!”

He had jumped down helping to lift you from the pit. You sobbed, tears running down your cheeks like a broken faucet, your hands clutching at His shirt. Tommy held you running his finger gently through your hair, shushing you softly as you buried yourself into his warmth.

Tommy gently slipped from your hold, leaning down to examine the damage. It was bad. So bad, you could practically see the bone protruding from the skin. You felt your gut wrench at the sight causing you to lean over beside you, regurgitating your dinner onto the cold cave floor. “Don’t look, okay? Just look at me.” Tommy leant over wiping your mouth with his jacket. You nodded slowly, trying your best to keep your eyes locked with Tommy’s despite how hard your morbid curiosity urged you to look down. Ripping his plaid jacket into strips he looked up at you. “We’re gonna get out of here. You’re gonna get out of here. No matter what I do, I’m gonna make sure I protect you, just like I always have.”

“I love you so much Tommy. I’ve never and never will love someone the way I do you.” You lean into him pressing your foreheads together. “I can’t lose you, okay?” He nods sympathetically, pressing a light kiss to the slope of your nose.

“Do you remember those dates we’d go on, out to the forest at night, and we’d just lay there, staring up through the cracks in the trees?” You nod. “I want you to think about that, okay? I want you to think about how many more we’ll go on once we get out of here.”

You hold a tight grip on his arm as he wipes away at the area. “I’m gonna have to put it back into place now.”

You pleaded with him, as the tears started again. “Please, no. Please just leave me here. Just go and find help okay? I can’t do it Tommy, I can’t do it”

“Hey, hey, hey. C’mon, look at me.” He places his hand on your cheek, tilting your head to look him in the eye. “You're gonna be fine, okay? You just gotta focus right now.” You nod timidly, the tears starting to slow.

He holds the bottom of your calf with one hand and your heel with the other. “Just count to three and I’m gonna do it, okay baby?” He looks up at you, his soft words lulling your anxiety. You bite your knuckle nervously, unsure as to how you should answer, but the look of trust in his eyes persuades you easily. “Okay.”

You breathe in. “One, two-” You let out a blood curdling scream as a large crack rung out, bouncing against the walls of the cave. Your fist gripped Tommy’s forearm tightly as you cried out a series of various curses. “You fucking asshole.” You whine out in pain, letting out an airy laugh trying to brighten your rather dull circumstances.

“You're okay baby.” You wince as he wraps the piece of fabric he had ripped from his jacket around your leg, tying it tight enough to hold you together for the moment. You grabbed Tommy’s shoulder as he wrapped his arm around your waist lifting you from the ground. You hiss as you feel your leg throb from the sudden movement. “Do you think you’re able to stand?” Tommy watches as you wobble trying to stay grounded. You nod. “Yeah.” You had no choice and you both knew it, if you wanted to live, you’d have to.

You both started your journey, finally entering a new environment as you trudged deeper into the earth of Shadyside. Why did these tunnels even exist? The intricate details of the maze made it easy to come to the conclusion that they were man made, but by who? Not once had you ever heard of these tunnels, and by the looks of it, nobody else had either, despite nurse Lane of course.

“Be careful.” Tommy tightened his grip around you. “You might slip.”

“Okay.” You mumble, too exhausted to form a real answer. You looked around at the walls, floor and ceiling. The further the two of you walked, the denser this moss became. You felt a wave of familiarity but you couldn’t quite place it. Red moss…red moss! It hit you, Cindy! Her red stained shirt, she said it was from the moss in the outhouses. “Tommy! It’s the fucking outhouses! We fucking made it!” You would probably be jumping up and down with joy right now if it wasn’t for your broken leg.

You look up, spotting the out house toilet openings. Wow, real nice, you’re both sitting in Sunnyvale shit and piss right now. “Yeah, but how are we supposed to get out?” Tommy sighs looking up at the roughly 15 foot climb. “You can’t climb that.”

You look at him. “Yeah, but you might.”

“No. I’m sorry but no, I’m not leaving you down here, especially when there’s Cindy running around up there trying to kill us. C’mon let’s go, if we’re at the outhouses, we must be near to camp.” He directs you along but before you can both carry on your interrupted. “Did you hear that?!”

“No I-“

“Shush.” You both stayed quiet listening as to what caught your attention. It’s screaming. Someone is screaming from the outhouses. “Hey! Help! Please, we’re stuck down here!” You yell trying to get the attention of the voices.

The space grows quiet as the screaming halts, the both of you waiting nervously for any indication of life when a head pops out from one of the seat holes. “What the fuck are you guys doing in the toilets?!”

It was ziggy, Cindy's sister. “Ziggy..” you wonder if it’s right to tell her what’s happened to her sister but you decide against it, not wanting to put the girl in such an emotionally vulnerable state whilst she’s already physically. “Gary’s up here too!” She yells down as Gary’s head pops out another toilet hole. “Hey!” He yells, surprisingly light heartedly considering there’s a murderer running around camp butchering little kids with a fucking machete. “Can you get us out of this fucking toilet or not?!”

Gary had managed to make some sort of bucket contraption with some rope. “It’s just like You’re Gothel climbing up Rapunzel's hair, okay?!” He yelled down, lowering it down to you.

You're about to slip onto the contraption when you hear Ziggy's unfortunately very familiar screams, and before you know it Gary’s decapitated body lies beside you on the floor. You and Tommy let out an in sync gasp, him pulling you away into his chest, as to protect you from the image. “We’re gonna have to find another way out.”

You think to yourself. Alice…she had shown you something whilst you were robbing nurse lanes office with Arnie. “I know how.” You pull out the book that started this whole thing.

“Baby, I don’t get how that book is gonna help us, let’s be honest it’s some random witches and wizards bullshit written how many hundreds of years ago?”

“No, tommy.” You turn the book to him parting the pages. “It’s a map.” You rest the book on the floor, the two of you leaning over it. “It's a map of camp, you see over here, these x’s are the graves we found. And over here, that’s where we entered.” You point your finger on the page. “Here, there’s another exit. Mess hall.”

His eyes lighten. “Jesus, fuck! You’re so smart!” He pulls you in for a kiss.

—-

You sat, your back arched over as you watched Tommy laid on his back kicking open the vent that led to the mess hall when another scream rang out. You instantly knew that it was ziggy, far too acquainted with the tone of her screams.

“Tommy!” With one final kick the vent flew open, Tommy hauling himself through in a split second. “Don’t move, stay here! I’m gonna go help Ziggy.”

Tommy always cared so much for the kids at camp, you honestly weren’t surprised that he was willing to risk his life for one of them.

—povc—

Tommy barged through the doors of the mess hall, an all too familiar song ringing through the speakers, the noise made his head thump as it blared.

Tommy followed the screams, grabbing a mallet that lied on a nearby counter. Cindy stood beating at a supply closet door as ziggy screamed from within. Tommy pulled cindy's shoulder for her to face him as he swung the mallet into her jaw. Cindy tumbled to the ground as she spat a mouthful of blood and teeth onto the floor. Tommy hesitated holding the mallet in his hand, ready to strike Cindy. But before he could come to any decision Cindy grabbed her machete from the ground slicing at Tommy’s thigh.

Tommy dropped to the floor, his mallet sliding across the freshly mopped floor tiles, Cindy rising to her feet, towering over Tommy. Overpowered, he crawled backwards digging the heels of his hands into the cold tile floor. He was braced for impact when Cindy stopped turning around.

—povc—

You lunged at her digging the knife you found into her back, pulling it out as she turned to face you, plunging it into her chest over and over until she hit the floor unresponsive. You fell. You had finally reached your limit. Your leg was broken for fucks sake and you just murdered Cindy. Pure-hearted, hard working Cindy Berman. You plunged your knife deep into her chest until you split it down the middle. You dragged your body over to Tommy’s wrapping your arms around him, wetting his shirt as you became inconsolable. He held his hand at the back of your neck placing soft kisses onto the top of your head. “It’s okay baby, it’s okay. She’s dead now, we’re gonna be okay.”

You heard as ziggy opened the closet door, dropping to her knees at the sight of her sister dead on the floor. The red headed girl pulled her sister's body over to face her, wrapping her arms around Cindy crying into her cold lifeless body. You crawled over to the girl pulling her away from her sister's touch into yours. “I’m sorry.” You whispered.

The three of you struggled as you heard the last bell ring signalling that the bus would be leaving. Ziggy yelled out as the bus doors began to close. The wheels began to roll forwards but before it could depart a boy budged the doors open, calling out to her. “Ziggy!” You released your grip from the girl's side as she ran to him, embracing him. You rested your head on Tommy’s shoulder at the sight of the two. “I hope she’ll be okay.”

The two of you had found a place on the bus as Ziggy sat with you fellow councillor Nick goode. Finally being able to breathe, you rest your head on Tommy’s shoulder. “I’m so glad you're okay.” You look up at him smiling at his words. “Maybe you're the one who really needs protecting, without me you’d be dead meat.” You press your lips together, smiling softly into the kiss. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if I had lost you.”

Your eyes wandered to the window watching as the camp nightwing sign slowly floated away out of sight. Finally it was over.

———

After the accident medics treated and hospitalised many of the camp nightwing campers and counselors such as you and Tommy. Your leg was thankfully saved. They said if not for Tommy it probably would have had to be amputated due to infection.

It was two months since that night, you still had to use crutches but besides that, you made a speedy recovery alongside tommy. Although he was in a much less critical condition than you and was discharged within a few days, he still spent every night in the hospital with you.

You laid beside Tommy his leg slotted between yours as the velvet underground played softly in the background. You run your fingers through his hair slowly as he whines quietly into your chest. It finally felt like the first time since that day that you both could finally relax.

You pulled away from his touch leaning over him, kissing his lips softly. “You look so pretty.” You hum. He smiles into the kiss. “Not as much as you, baby.”

You lifted yourself straddling Tommy’s hips, deepening the kiss as your hands ran down playing with the hem of his shirt, travelling underneath. He pulls away, his hand rubbing your thigh. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“I’m okay.” You reassure him, pressing soft kisses along his collarbone. You removed your shirt as Tommy’s hands floated up to your waist.

“God, you're so beautiful.” He mumbles, kissing up your chest slowly as you take off your pyjama shorts, throwing them to the floor.

You lean down unbuttoning Tommy’s jeans, taking him in your hand. Tommy twitches at the contact as you align himself to you. You lower yourself onto him slowly as his hands hold a firm grip on your lower back. Tommy lays his head back, his hips thrusting up into you.

You shiver as you lift yourself up and down, your thighs shaking from the stimulation. His thrusts hardened, your soft whimpers of his name encouraging him. “You look so fucking good right now.” He gripped your waist helping you keep a steady pace.

You steadied yourself, leaning your arms out pressing your hands against his chest as you felt yourself near your climax. “Shit, Tommy I’m gonna come.” You whined under your breath.

“Don’t worry baby, me too.” He runs his hands down your back lovingly.

You threw your head back as you felt Tommy’s hand wander down edging you on further, your breath quivering at the touch. You felt his hips buckle beneath you as he reached his peak, yours following soon after.

You sighed your body collapsing onto his chest. “I love yours so much.” You mumble into his skin as he presses a soft kiss against your forehead.

—-

It was the 16th anniversary since that day at nightwing, the two of you still happily together. Despite the permanent scar that night had left on the both of you mentally and physically, you both managed to stay strong, the event probably making the two of you even closer than you already were before.

Every year instead of hiding from the memories of that night, you both embrace it. Tommy’s favourite way to do this was to ‘reenact your youths’ in his words by driving the two of you out to the forest, where you would’ve spent so many nights together when you were younger.

You would open the sunroof and lay out the seats creating a little bed for the two of you. Probably not the safest thing the two of you could do, but most definitely the sweetest.

The two of you laid there staring up at the trees, resting your head on Tommy’s chest, your arm draped across his abdomen. Looking up at him you pressed a small kiss to the slope of his nose, pressing your heads together. The moonlight glazed over his cheeks, giving him a paler look. “You look so beautiful.”

—-

The car ride home was quiet but the atmosphere felt soft and comforting as Tommy rested his hand on your inner thigh. The velvet underground played softly on the radio as your eyes gazed out at the passing scenery.

[yourtamaki]

the wanderer’s lodestone

dabi x f!reader

word count: 3.6k

warnings: violence, detail of injury, murder, morally grey reader, dry humping, mutual masturbation, oral (m receiving), angst ending

if there was one thing dabi has learned over the years, it was that people always fell in one of two categories. there were those who would meet his gaze and those who avoided it. he’s not sure which is worse. the brave ones and their wide eyes, always staring at his marred skin with such sick fascination it made his palms itch in the worst way. or the spineless bastards whose eyes stayed glued to the ground when he walked past only to gawk at him like a sideshow freak when they thought he wasn’t looking.

two sides of the same judgemental coin, all part of the same corrupt society that preaches love until someone doesn’t fit their mold. it was getting harder to differentiate between them and at some point he stopped trying all together. what did it matter if he couldn’t remember how it felt to be regarded like a human being? he didn’t need to be human to carry out his vengeance, he only needed to be alive. 

that changed when he met you. 

it wasn’t his cleanest break-in but he couldn’t care less, too busy focused on not passing out from blood loss. it was shit luck that the alley he had chosen to rest in was part of a new hero’s patrol route. the kid was clearly scared out of his mind when he realized dabi wasn’t just another thug on the streets, his pale face illuminated in the night by blue flame. it was a shame, for a rookie the kid had talent with his dagger quirk, being able to throw and call them back at will, even change their trajectory midair. he could’ve made it far in the ranks. 

dabi wondered if they’d bury him with his daggers, scorched bones and all. 

it wasn’t his problem anymore. all he cared about was finding something clean to wrap the nasty cut on his abdomen. there was no special reason he chose your bedroom window to climb through. it was the first apartment with a fire escape he stumbled upon just far enough away from the ashes of the pro hero that he wouldn’t have to worry about being followed. your dim window was the first he reached and it didn’t take much effort to jam a knife between the glass and the lock to force it open. he thought the place might be empty for the night when he stepped inside and heard no signs of life. he got to work tearing the bedsheets in long strips and was nearly done when you walked in. 

there were people who met his gaze and there were people who avoided it. you were neither. 

you saw him. 

even in near darkness, your eyes found his and didn’t flinch at the monster that stared back. the room stayed silent as you seized each other up save the drops of blood that slipped past where he held his wound shut and splattered on the floor. 

“could you not rip my sheets up?” 

your voice was enough to startle him from his initial shock, twirling the knife once before going back to cutting up the fabric. “i need them more than you do. i’ll be gone in a minute, scream and i’ll kill you.” 

you scoffed but didn't reply, walking across the room and flipping the light on in a bathroom he hadn’t seen earlier. a wave of irritation washed over him as he watched you rummage through drawers. who would turn their back to someone who broke into their home? did you have no self preservation? 

you walked back, tossing several things onto the bed before making your way back deeper into the apartment. “close the window on your way out.” 

and with that you’re gone. a part of him wanted to chase you, to tie up the loose end but the memory of your eyes kept him frozen in place. the thought of those same eyes looking at him with fear made his gut twist and he didn’t understand why. he grabbed whatever you tossed at him, the few strips he’d managed to make and left the way he came. it’s not until he’s found an empty alley to rest in did he inspect the items. ace bandages, an entire bottle of hydrogen peroxide, fish wire and a sewing needle. 

your kindness tasted like pity and acid. he couldn’t convince himself to spit it out even as it burned a hole straight through his tongue. 

dabi hated you and he etched that hatred into his skin, stitch by painful stitch. hated you for reminding him that he had yet to purge the weakness from his soul. the same weakness that forced him to walk past your apartment over the next few weeks. it was stupid to stick around in the city for so long, especially after killing that hero. he told himself it was to make sure you’d upped your security since he’d tumbled into your home but it sounded the excuse rang hollow with no one to hear the lie. 

it became such a mindless part of his routine it took him a moment to realize one night that your window had been shattered open. his throat tightened almost painfully, your eyes flashed in his mind and he was flying up the fire escape a moment later. 

a lean figure was pulling open drawers when the sound of dabi stepping on broken glass made him whip around. it’s a pain, not being able to turn the man into fuel for his ever hungry flames but he didn’t think you’d appreciate him saving your house just to burn it down. 

the man’s movements were clumsy and uncoordinated, taking desperate swings that left him wide open for dabi to sneak under his defences. he’d just managed to grapple the intruder into a chokehold when the bedroom door creaked open and both men’s attention snapped to you. 

“you done yet?” you asked and dabi had to force himself to speak under the full weight of your gaze.

“were you here the whole time?” you nodded, acting far too casual for his liking. “why the fuck didn’t call the cops or something?” 

“i figured you’d show up.” you cocked your head at the incredulous look he threw you. “what, you thought i didn’t notice you coming around all the time?” 

he clicked his teeth in annoyance. “well, what do you want to do with him then, sweetheart?” 

it was a test and it was clear you knew it, glancing down at the intruder that had started weakly clawing at his arm. dabi would kill the man regardless of what you said but your answer would speak volumes on where you stood in this society rotted by false gods. 

“i don’t care what you do, just dump the body far from here.” you didn’t blink once as you sentenced the man to death, didn’t blink as dabi shifted his hold and the echo of a snapped neck rang out in the room. you held steady and a begrudging respect rose up in him.

he heaved the man over his shoulder, being mindful to keep the head hidden from your line of sight. you’d already passed his test, there was no need for you to see it any longer then he’d already made you. he just had to know if you were putting on a front or not. if you were, it would’ve been all the more likely for you to put in a tip about a certain villain that lurked around your neighbourhood. 

but instead you had held his gaze, didn’t look at him any differently and dabi didn’t want to know why he felt so relieved for it. 

he honoured your request, carrying the body through back alleys and shadows to the very edge of the city. his thoughts wandered, as they always seemed to where you’re considered, wondering how soon he could see you again while he watched the flames climb high into the night sky. 

“a tarp? seriously?” he’d lasted two full nights before his feet led him back to your fire escape and the brand new thick tarp that covered the missing window. you were in bed this time, reading a book the title of which he couldn’t make out with the dim light from your bedside lamp, not even bothering to look his way as he made himself comfortable on the window sill. 

“shitty landlord is taking his sweet time replacing the glass so yeah. tarp.” 

“you should move. i hear there’s a lot of break-ins going on around here.” he didn’t like how much your huff of laughter to his poor attempt at humour felt like a reward. 

“not all of us can afford to live in the hero sectors, you know?” 

the venom in your voice when you mentioned the hero sector caught him off guard. they’re one of the more subtle forms of corruption present in all cities with a hero presence. living in the hero sectors ensures one’s total safety from any threat. from robberies to natural disasters, a hero’s priority is focused on the rich who can afford the protection. no hero will ever admit to it, though. on paper, the sectors don’t exist. and yet the heroes flock to the same handful of neighbourhoods the moment a threat occurs. another underhand tactic to keep the poor in their place and the rich comfortable. 

you’ve become that much more interesting in his eyes.

“so, you here to bleed all over my sheets again or what?” 

dabi scoffed, “no, but i was hoping you could take these stitches out and we’ll call it even for saving your ass.” he could rip them out himself but where was the fun in that?

“yeah right. who saved who first?” despite your grumbling you waved dabi over, gesturing for him to sit on the bed while you went off to grab supplies from the bathroom. 

he expected you to pull up a chair once you returned but instead you placed a hand on his chest and pushed him onto his back. it took all his concentration not to flinch when you straddled him, your hand trailing under his shirt, fingertips grazing his burnt flesh as you pulled his shirt up, bundling the material and forcing it into his mouth. 

“you might wanna bite down on that, i’m all out of painkillers.” 

there was a gentleness in how you cut the stitches from his body, how you took care to dab an alcohol soaked cotton pad over each one. it made his chest go tight, unable to recall ever being this close to someone and not walking away with new scars. 

dabi found himself lulled into a trance by the rhythm of your hands, a trance that shattered as your fingertips strayed from the path of the cut, following the rows upon rows of staples that held him together instead. he watched your face closely, waiting for the disgust and horror to swim to the surface but your eyes kept the steadiness they always seemed to have. 

“does it hurt?” you whispered. 

he wanted to tell you that it didn’t hurt, not in the way you thought it did. that the nerves beneath his burnt and darkened flesh had died long ago and he couldn’t even feel the patterns you were now tracing on his stomach. it’s the unblemished skin that hurts, that always hurts. the parts of him that still cling to life. 

the human brain processes pain differently than any other stimulation it feels. pain never dulls, never vanishes no matter how long it lasts. every waking moment, his own mind tortures him with fresh waves of pain and never lets him forget the countless staples that pierce his flesh and tear him open everytime he moves. 

there’s so much he could tell you but the words refused to come out, burning up in his throat and leaving him choking on the ash. 

you didn’t push when no answer came, prying his shirt from his clenched teeth and pulling it back into place. “you’re good to go, stranger.” 

his hands that had been clenched by his sides twitched when you started to move away from him and judging by the tilt of your head, it didn’t escape your notice. you settled back over him and this time he couldn’t stop his hands from gripping onto your waist, trying to stop you from shifting.

“stop that.” he said through gritted teeth.

you gave another roll of your hips and smirked when his fingers dug deeper into your sides, “stop what?”

“you’re a fucking menace, you know that?”

“yeah. but you like it.”

he hated that you were right. but he’d be damned if he gave you the satisfaction of seeing him lose it from a little grinding. he used his hold on you to push you back slightly, spreading his legs even further until you were straddling his thigh instead. syrupy smugness filled his veins seeing you flustered for the first time since he’s met you.

“go on, don’t get shy on me now.” you were quick to shake off any reservations, growling at his teasing tone and grinding down on his thigh with a desperation that sent a thrill down his spine. “just like that, make yourself feel good.”

he couldn’t wrap his head around how right this felt. there should have been a moment of hesitation from either of you as you walked hand in hand over a line you’d have no way of crossing back over but instead you melted into each other, all his senses heightened and flooded with you, you, you. 

he was so focused on memorizing every minute expression that crossed your face he didn’t realize you were asking for help until you moved his hands from your waist to your ass. he was more than happy to take over, setting a brutal pace that had you crying out, bunching his shirt up in your fists to try to stay grounded.

“c’mon baby, let go.”

you cum with a strangled cry and he can feel every pulse and clench of your cunt through the layers that separated you. your whole body shook in his arms as he helped you ride out your high before you collapsed on top of him, your head buried in the crook of his neck. he let your hands wander up and down his sides but grabbed hold of your wrists when they started to make their way between his legs.

he was about to tell you to forget about it, to not worry about the ache that sat heavy and hard in his jeans but the pout on your face when you looked up made him freeze. 

“can i?” you asked, so close your warm breath fanned his face.

“you don’t- i didn’t…” he didn’t want you to think that this is all he’d wanted from you, that this wasn’t why he was compelled to return to you over and over. you seemed to understand his silent struggle, gracing him with a small smile. 

“i know. i want to.” any hesitation vanished at the challenging look you gave him while you freed his cock from its restraints. you held your palm out to him and dabi spat into it, never breaking eye contact as you do the same and wrapped your hand around him, coating his length in the mixture of you. you took as much care touching him as you did cutting his stitches, careful and sure with each stroke, sweeping a thumb over his sensitive tip to gather the precum that leaked like a faucet. 

as you worked his cock, he grabbed your leg that had fallen between his and pulled it up until your thighs were spread over his own. he couldn’t help the low groan that escaped him when he slid a hand into pants and past your panties and felt just how wet you were, sinking two fingers inside you just to hear you whine from the stretch. 

it wasn’t the best angle but dabi made it work, crooking his fingers and letting his rough palm slap against your clit with each thrust. when your eyes started to roll back into your head, he used his free hand to grab the back of your neck, pressing your forehead to his and making sure your vision was filled with nothing but him. 

“keep your eyes on me, don’t fucking close ‘em.” your mouth fell open as you nod, somehow keeping your pace steady even as he felt your walls fluttered around him. “show me that pretty face you make when you cum, sweetheart, i wanna see it again.” 

“‘m cumming ‘m cumming oh fuck- ! ” you gasped as your orgasm hit you. he moaned right alongside you as you squeezed just underneath his blunt tip in a sudden death grip, the pain-laced pleasure was almost enough to push him over the edge. 

you dropped to your knees quickly as you felt his cock twitch in your hand, popping the head into your mouth and rolling his heavy balls in your hand. the sudden sensation of your wet, hot tongue pressing at his slit had him shooting rope after rope of cum down your throat and his head spun when you swallowed every drop and showed him your empty mouth. 

dabi pounced, tackling you to the ground, cradling your head before it could hit the floor and crashing his lips onto yours so hard he already knew he’d have to give a gruff apology when they ended up bruised. he chased the bitter taste of himself that lingered on your tongue and shivered when your tongue ran across his scarred bottom lip and you didn’t recoil at what you felt. frantic, rough kisses melted away into a lazy make out that banished all but one thought from his mind. 

he could get used to this. he wanted to get used to this. 

“hey,” your voice pulled him back down to earth, something soft glimmering behind your eyes and dabi didn’t want to look away until he figured out what it was. “i wanna show you something.”

you wiggled out from beneath him, making your way to the window and pushing the heavy tarp out of the way before stepping onto the fire escape. 

following you up the winding stairs felt natural, like he was born to witness the small smile you threw over your shoulder to make sure he was keeping up. 

the view at the top was underwhelming. too many buildings pressed too close together, all the exact same height as the one you two stood on stretching as far as the eye could see to create the most painfully ordinary view he’d ever seen. but it was quiet. the roar of the streets below couldn’t be heard at all and dabi hadn’t realized how loud it all was until deafening silence took its place. and it was cold. cold enough that he couldn’t tell if the ache in his lungs was from the freezing air or the hazy memory of white hair that floated through his mind.

it was the closest thing to peace he could remember feeling in years. 

“you like it?” you were watching him closely, hopping from foot to foot and he didn’t know what possessed you to come out wearing only your flimsy sleepwear. you seemed proud of the little hidden treasure you found and something stirred in his chest thinking about how you chose to share it with him. 

“‘s nice.” he said, reaching out to cover both your hands in his and using just enough of his ever burning flame to warm you both. he found himself waiting once more for the sudden twist of revulsion in your features, for you to jerk away from his touch but you sighed in contentment as heat seeped back into your fingertips. you brought his hands up to your face, making him cup your cold cheeks and closing your eyes to savour the warmth. 

it was as you nuzzled into his palm that dabi realized exactly how dangerous you were to each other. undeserved kindness and crooked smiles and sharing secrets. he hadn’t earned any of these things and yet you handed them to him like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

and he’ll take them. because that was the nature of the fire he had been cursed with. it takes and takes and takes and you’ll be left with nothing to show for it but the grey ash of your generous heart. and in return you’d lull him with the false belief that he is more than the hatred that flows through his veins, that there was still a person buried under the mountain of rage he carried inside him. he doesn’t think he could survive without it but you would make him believe that he could. 

he’d destroy you. you’d ruin him. 

this, whatever this was that was growing between you was doomed to end before it had even started. he should leave you on this rooftop, leave the whole damn city and forget whatever you had tried to awaken in him. but dabi could never resist the call of destruction, would always want to know exactly how hot and how bright things could burn. what did love look like when it’s been bathed in flames? 

dabi pulled you closer, determined to find out.

dedicated to: @saintdabi​

[starshipsofstarlord]

Smooth as the nine realms

loki laufeyson x reader / masterlist

summary; the midguardian lifestyle is strange, but there is an aspect of it that loki is definitely not accustomed to, and he’s conflicted about whether he likes it or not / warnings; smut, talk about pubic hair, or lack of, oral sex (female receiving)

kicking off your leggings, you abolished them to the other side of the room, straddling loki as he abandoned his book, caring not that the pair of you were in the middle of the common room, nor the fact that he had lost his page. it had been a few months since loki had been forced to join the avengers on their next quest, thor had practically dragged him towards the bifrost.

but now, he didn’t mind earth so much. sometimes it could be quiet, that was when all members of the team were away on missions, and thor allowed him to be by himself. this though, the way you, an average, world protecting midguardian straddled him, after stripping out of your top and bra, in the middle of a public sector of the domain, was something that he sure as valhalla had no mind about.

in fact, he rather enjoyed the way that your hands roughed down the points of his shoulders, and trailed down his biceps, that were underrated, especially in comparison to his brother’s. the two of you had been playing a game since he attacked the planet, it was a chase of cat and mouse.

at first, he had envisioned you to be the mouse, but you no longer seemed meek and small any longer. instead, you were the feline that was cosying herself upon the perch of his royal lap, descending her grounding hips over the throne of his pelvis.

“what is it trickster, cat got your tongue?” you seemed rather confident with the way that his eyes remained glue to your mound, he realised that must have been quite a complimentary action for a mortal man to show to his partner.

to be truthful, it felt as though all speech was parched from his mouth, he had knowingly waited for this instance where you would deliberately rut yourself against him; like heimdall, he had a vision of the future delved in the reverse side of his eyes, though, his reaction was the most unexpected thing that he could had intended to paraphrase.

he trailed his hand over your mound, through the fabric of underwear, watching mercilessly as you bucked into his hand. midguardians were something else, they weren’t as sensual as others he had been with concerning their sexuality, in fact, as it appeared, some were desperate.

you were rutting in his grip, though he applied a stern hold unto them, forcing you to stop your ravenous movements, and pose stilly for the god beneath you. he gently, which was a surprise to you with how tender and kind his eyes had become, laid you down on the couch that stark has paid a pretty penny for, exchanging your positions so that you were the one under his demeanour.

“do something.” you eagerly insisted, lacing your mortal fingers through his midnight locks, tugging gently at his dark roots. a glassy encasement covered his eyes as he stared up at you, it was a mess to place the expression that was carried within them, gods were difficult, that much was clear. though, you weren’t seeking anything particularly intimate with the company of one, this had been inevitable though.

it had been like a kettle brewing, screeching like an applause when the pair of you had finally gotten to the point of no return. this was it, there were no divine interventions or avenging interruptions to discard this moment, instead you and loki were thrown this coin toss, given your desires in the aura of a wish fountain.

“humans.” his voice prowled, making bumps appear on your skin, as he blew a swift succession of cold air across your stomach, it sending a blizzard of coolness up the paving of your chest, making your nipples undeniably hard, their stiff peaks that beaded under his breath were almost painful as they stood obediently to attention. “always so demanding, why can’t your kind beg for a change, i know that would appease my hunger?”

“oh loki, please.” your tone was severely monotone, and caused the mischievous lord to roll his gemstone eyes, rendering their spheric pupils to glare in amusedly at you, though, he tugged your panties down, the sight leaving him breathless. he was enraptured with the sight, perplexed by it as his emerald eyes stared up at you for an explanation. though, you were not sure what he was expecting from you.

his throat dry, as for once, he was not able to comprehend the situation. his silver tongue had gotten lost, obstructed as he grew distracted by the visual that he was receiving. it was a cunt, he knew that much, but there was someone uniquely different about it, he’d assume it was scalped if her were to make verbal predictions. “what is this?”

“my attempts at deflating your ego. i am not going to beg for you to do something to me, i can easily find someone else.” you rested your head back, digging the crown of it further into the end of the couch, as you parted your legs a little further to resend an invitation for him to proceed.

“not that...” loki revealed, paving his icy hands up the roads of your thighs, letting his forefinger brush over your pubic mound, it was like the bifrost, a smooth pathing to a transportation of depth, one that he wished to investigate, though he was still stricken by the eventing shock that pulsed within his golden veins. he had always been a curious child, and he remained to be as keen to know all now, at centuries upon centuries old.

“have you never seen a vagina before?” you huffed, wanting him to do nothing more than devour your cunt, stabbing you with his vigilant tongue so that he could curl crude and priceless sounds out of your mouth. if anyone knew that you were about to participate in intercourse with the destructive, slippery handed body, they would surely judge you.

but they didn’t, and even if that were not the case, you wouldn’t care. your mind was far too preoccupied with the growing inclination to jump the god’s elegantly crafted bones, bury for now you, remained still, allowing him to assert his comfort within the situation. “what’s wrong?” this time, he answered you, looking almost like a dear kitten that was plodding through the bustling streets, seeking out attention from a kind citizen, having hopes to be taken to a home, and fed well.

“why-,” he cleared his throat, he never came across as this nervous to anyone, it was as though he feared what you may think of him if he were to speak his mind. “why don’t you have hair- here?” he stroked the pad of his thumb over the flat and bare crest, finding it to be one of the most peculiar things regarding humans that he had ever witnessed.

“because i shave.” it was a simple answer, whilst all while being not as direct as the god was hoping for. “it’s kinda a thing down here, some people let it grow out, others don’t. it’s whatever picks their fancy, and a lot of people, like me, shave so intimate partners don’t get grossed out. some guys are dicks and hate everything that is natural.”

“well i’d still be reaped with great, reprised regret, if i were to reform the idea of giving you satisfaction if you were to have a natural slate sheathing around your sweet cunt.” he inhaled, making your muscles wither with succumbed arousal. the god could smell your distinct scent of attraction towards him, and he was visually compelled by the aroma that invaded his senses.

loki, without warning, placed his palm over your clean shaven mound, holding you down as his tongue worked against your tender flesh, stroking it as though he bore a hand of intricacy, sketching out every detail of your skin, plucking the outer labia into the hatch of his often deceiving mouth. he had to admit, in his mind of course, he liked the access that he was granted by this strange human lifestyle.

the idea of pubic hair was one of parts of a woman’s body that usually fuelled the immortal man, however if you didn’t want to bear its follicles on your skin, then that was to it choice. he wouldn’t judge you for it, although he happened to judge midguardians on everything. you were different from the others though, despite sometimes bickering, and making stabbing jokes towards one another, he rather enjoyed your presence.

with you nearby, he finally felt seen. he was not only the immortal that had prided himself with almost crushing an entire mortal city, no. you saw through that, understanding that he was definitely not in his own mindset, he had been controlled. it was never in his plans to venture to midguard, even if it was to cause a ruckus. but now with you, he never wanted to leave.

despite your optimal obligations regarding the team, and villains much like himself, he felt accepted. thor too appreciated him, but that was far different, there had always been a means of competition between the brother, with you, that regard was not present. he could be himself, and appreciate your side silhouette, and demand the agents that passed by with wandering eyes with threats if they did not continue walking.

now that he thought about that, as he engorged on the taste of your cunt, sliding a prying finger through the door of your entrance, fumbling your clit with his bewitched thumb, he realised something. a great surprise to himself. he indeed cared about you, but far more than he had ever anticipated to. his fingers slowed as he became mesmerised with every small noise that projected from your mouth, wanting to drag this instance out for as long as possible.

not only did his self realisation show him that he found some calm in your lasting presence, but he had feelings. usually he blocked off such things, but the heavenly expression that illustrated itself upon your face had him inwardly swooning. he felt you comb your fingers through his locks, and he hummed. he wanted this moment to last forever, in it, he was not a god, nor an infamous trickster.

he was just a man swarming with irregular emotions towards a woman, a being of optimistic resort; if things were as simple, or if he understood as well, he’d ask to take you for dinner. but he didn’t know where to start with that, not only did he have a lack of wisdom when it came to human restaurants, but he had no clue as to how you would respond. he didn’t even think that you saw him as a suitor, he was simply a deliverer of teasing and now pleasure.

“fuck loki.” the mortal swear sounded like a spell, making his body overbear itself with a proud sensation as he pushed you over the edge, removing his fingers only for you to bring them to your own mouth and clean them off. “holy shit, that was so good. maybe i should have started with gods years ago.”

inherently the mischief source growled, his mind instantly going over to the idea of you choosing his brother; everyone did, they had a strong preference. from his family to his old friends, they all liked thor more, and that was how his resentment towards his brother had originally stemmed. he felt like an outcast, and from that reminded alone, conjoined with your interest towards his brother, he felt his eyes grow glassy.

“go to him. i’m sure thor would appreciate your partnership.” yes, he was acting like a sulking toddler, and it had your brow bone raising as you took in his words. it was his clap back response, and you grasped him, stopping him from leaning the room. you felt slightly vulnerable, being in the nude after such a small lash, but you knew something was bothering loki, and it was clear to what that was.

“i do not want your brother loki, nor any other god.” your voice bit back a strain to its tone, as you stared at the man, standing in your birthday suit before him. your hands splayed on his chest, feeling his heart through his attire viscosity beating. “there is no need to be jealous, it feels like we’ve playing this game for so long, and i intend for it to be over. i will be the first to admit it, i want you, all of you. from the dark corners to the hopeful light in your eyes.”

loki was astounded, nobody had ever been so straight forward with him. despite being the god of mischief, the half of the time it was him whom was the victim of lies. “you don’t mean that.” his hands lightly traced every dip in your hips as he searched your expression for certainty. “nobody wants me, i am the monster that had tales spread to fear the children of my people of a night. there is nowhere i belong, nor anybody whom i belong with.”

“that may be your mindset, or the one that you are speaking, but you are lying to yourself. i do want you loki odinson, please accept that.” he gulped, nobody had ever had he guts to tell him how it was, and here you were, simply speaking your mind before him. it was an admirable feature, something that he deemed to be a favourable quality. “now i think i’m gonna get dressed and head to my room, i am feeling a bit cold. come find me when you feel like admitting the truth to yourself, i’ll be waiting.”

as you went to turn, loki grasped your elbow, hushing your questions with his mouth, as he clutched your cheeks, passionately endorsing you in a meaningful kiss. he walked you backwards, until the pair of you once again fell onto the furniture. “you don’t have to wait y/n, because i do not want to.” he ushered pecks down your neck, as you grew warm from the disappearance of his usual cockiness, it being replaced with true confidence, that served as a show for no one, and instead was his own admittance to all.

[breakyeol]

— ALL TIED UP

┗ Pairing : Kyungsoo x Reader

Genre: shameless smut

Words: 3k

Rating: 18+

Warnings: strong language, explicit sexual content ; light bondage, blindfolds, body worship, oral (m. receiving), edging, unprotected sex

A/N; plz this was supposed to be a birthday post for soo but I’m so late it’s not even funny. but blindfolded soo is too hot not to write so here you go lovers, enjoy!!

Lace looks good on him, you decided then, admiring the masterpiece laid out beneath you with a satisfied smirk. Black lace and black silk, a perfect combination. The lace, tied securely around your boyfriend’s beautiful eyes. The silk, around his slim wrists.

“Remind me why I agreed to this?” Kyungsoo grumbled, flexing his fingers experimentally from within their binds. You grinned to yourself, trailing your own lightly over the warm swells of his chest.

“Because you love me and trust me and know I can make you feel… so good.” Those final words were all but purred against the pink tinted shell of his ear, a sense of smug pride settling over you when he shivered in response, lips parting to let out a shaky breath.

You knew what he was experiencing. You knew how every sensation felt amplified. Without his sight, he was forced to feel, to hone in on each one of his other senses. He took notice of things he probably wouldn’t have otherwise. Unable to see what you were doing, he was on edge, left in thick anticipation of your every move. Every touch was a surprise. He had relinquished himself to you, body and mind, left himself completely at your mercy.

His head kicked back into the pillows as your mouth drifted to his throat, bathing him with slow, purposeful kisses. Each one fanned the flames of his lust, growing larger and greedier with every touch. From your peripheral vision, you caught the downward movement of his bound hands from where you had specifically told him to keep them above his head. You reached up, easily pinning them back against the mattress.

“You do trust me, don’t you, Soo?” The low, sultry thrum of your voice caressed his feverish skin, and he felt the weight of them in his blood.

“Yes.” He whispered, grunting softly when you sunk your teeth into his collarbone.

You smiled, laving your tongue soothingly over the afflicted area. “Good.” And then your mouth was on his. He groaned hotly into your kiss, and you giggled as his eager tongue licked at the seam of your lip. Was he already getting worked up? You’d barely even started. It was surprisingly fun seeing the usually so controlled Doh Kyungsoo unraveling beneath you just because of a little lacy blindfold.

It hadn’t taken as much convincing to get him into this position as you first thought it would.

Kyungsoo was the kind of man that took pleasure in taking things slow and dragging things out with deep kisses and gentle caresses. He liked to take his sweet time when he had his way with your body, nipping and teasing until you were squirming and begging and just barely hanging onto your ever dwindling sanity. And shit if those weren’t some of the best orgasms you ever had— you just wanted to return the favor.

“You know, you have the most amazing lips.”

“Don’t tease me.”

“I’m very serious. I can’t even look at you without wanting to kiss you.” You pressed your thumb into the full flesh, drawing it gently down and releasing in order to watch it bounce temptingly back into place.

“That’s just because you have no self control.” He argued, nipping at the pad of your thumb.

You cocked your head, humming thoughtfully. “Valid point.”

His lips parted with the intention of teasing, but any playful comment was abruptly cut off when you redirected your attention back to his sensitive throat, attacking the sweet spot just below the corner of his jaw that you knew made him weak. “Y/n—”

“Shh, just relax, baby… let me take care of you.”

He exhaled a shaky breath from his nose, snagging his lower lip tightly between his teeth and nodded, allowing his body to melt into the mattress.

“Good boy.”

“Suck my dick.” He hissed, only to sigh blissfully as you began kissing hotly down the length of his neck, staining his honeyed skin in lovely shades of pink and red.

“I was planning on it.”

Kyungsoo laughed then, a deep bubbly rumbling that you felt vibrate against your lips. Truly, you couldn’t stop yourself from sinking your teeth into his adam’s apples as it bobbed in front of you all too temptingly. He growled softly in retaliation, but you could feel the solid heat of him pressing up gently between your hips. The subtle friction made the muscles of your thighs tremble in need, fierce desire licking at your veins.

The sight of him beneath you, bound and vulnerable and eager (despite trying -and failing- to hide it), glistening in sweat and practically shaking in anticipation, was affecting you way more than you thought it would. Something about having him like this set your blood on fire in an entirely different way than you were used to. Having such control over him, over his pleasure and desire, was giving you a total power rush. If you weren’t careful, you’d develop a complex. Then your handsome boyfriend would have to put you back in your place. Not that you’d mind…

But those were thoughts for another night.

Sinking your fingers into his tight waist, you slowly descended his body; nipping, kissing and licking over every curve, every edge, every soft spot. “You’re so beautiful.” You breathed against his warm stomach, gaze flashing up to catch even the faintest of nuances in his expression. His brows curled, jaw opening around a silent gasp as your lips feathered over his hip bones, greedy touch traveling over the defined muscles of his thighs.

“Fuck, y/n—” the strained groan had you clenching around empty air, lust coiling in your chest.

“You’re so hard, Soo.” You moaned, sitting back on your heels as you admired his length. Thick and red and weeping, a heavy pool of precum collecting on the gentle slope of his belly. Lowering your head, you dragged your tongue through it, humming at the salty taste of him. His stomach flinched and tightened, his chest swelling as he swallowed lungfuls of hot air.

“Stop teasing and touch me.” It was probably supposed to sound demanding, but it came out as nothing of the sort. The way the words trembled and quivered from his gaping lips, thick and heavy in his throat, sounded nothing short of imploring. And damn you if you weren’t about to give him everything he wanted and more.

Kyungsoo gasped out a low curse at the first calculated flick of your tongue over his swollen head, veined hands curling into tight fights around the sheets above his head. Heat pooled in your stomach, even the subtle reaction enough to make you greedy for more. Humming, you licked a wet strip from base to tip, a violent tremble wracking his body in response. You could feel his self control already beginning to wane, a soft whimper breaking free from behind clenched teeth as you took him fully into your mouth.

“Oh fuck…”

His voice sounded so lovely, smooth and lustrous like the black silk wrapped around his wrists, breathless and light where it flickered through the air around your head. You teased the skin of his hips, digging your nails in each time they bucked. His spine curved, a deep groan pulsing from his chest as you hollowed your cheeks, skillfully tracing the thick vein lining the underside of his cock with the tip of your tongue.

“Careful, baby. Careful.” He seethed, head snapping back as his jaw clenched. The warning in his voice clear, the tension in his thighs telling you all you needed to know about just how near he was to the edge. You hummed in acknowledgment, but the vibrations it sent pulsing through his cock threw his entire body into a fit of violent trembles, the resistance he put up against his oncoming orgasm wrenching a broken sob from his swollen lips. “Y/n!”

You pulled off of him with a soft chuckle, resorting to pressing soothing kisses to the warm insides of shaking his thighs.

“Sorry, love.” You crooned, kissing up his body until you were level with his face.

For a moment, you were tempted to pull off the blindfold, just to see the look in those beautiful brown eyes. But some level of self restraint was necessary if you were planning to follow through. So you swallowed the urge, satiating the fire in your belly with the taste of his mouth instead.

“Fucking hell.” He growled roughly, kissing you back with a ferocity that you supposed was intended to take his mind off the desperate throbbing of his cock.

Kyungsoo was breathing hard through his nose, quick shallow breaths that rushed out against the skin of your upper lip. You tried to pull away, worried he might pass out from oxygen from deprivation if you denied him of air any longer, but he chased your mouth, sinking his teeth punishingly into tender flesh your lower lip once he caught up. It was the only thing he could think to do to keep you close.

You rolled your hips back against the hardness of his cock in retaliation, though unsure if it was meant to discipline or reward. Probably both. Regardless, he moaned, subsequently releasing you from the harsh bite of his teeth.

“Do that again. Fuck, I need to feel you. I need to feel you baby, please.” He gritted out, words rushed and jumbled as he rutted up against you. You moaned at the unexpected friction, bracing your hands on his silk-bound wrists to keep from doubling over. He sucked his lower lip into his mouth at the sound. “That feel good?”

“Mhm.” You hummed breathlessly, head tilting back as you rolled yourself over him again, reveling in the resulting rush of warmth. You could see the fluttering of his eyelids behind the lace, searching desperately through all encompassing the darkness for something, for anything— for you.

Then his fingers grazed your wrist and the corner of his mouth twitched triumphantly. “Hold my hand.”

The demand was so unexpected that you couldn’t help the sharp giggle of astonishment that spewed dumbly from your lips. “You want me… to hold your hand?” Repeating the words did nothing to hinder the sudden onslaught of laughter.

Kyungsoo smiled blindly up in your general direction, that dopey heart shaped grin that never failed to make your heart flutter stupidly in your chest. The one that made it feel like time itself was slowing down so that you could treasure it for just a few moments longer. “I want you to hold my hand… and fuck me like you love me.”

Another giggle, your nose wrinkling from the sheer absurdity of the request. “But I do love you.”

He pivoted his chin, cocking a sassy brow. “Then it shouldn’t be difficult.”

“Point made.” You acknowledged, smoothly intertwining your fingers with his and simultaneously sinking down on his length. He cried out, the suddenness of your walls around him stealing all of the oxygen from his lungs. So wet and tight and hot, squeezing in all the right places. He was goddamn dizzy.

A sound of bliss escaped your gaping lips, your eyes fluttering shut as your cunt stretched deliciously to accommodate his familiar girth. You didn’t move at first, remaining still as you adjusted to the intrusion, relishing in the mere sensation of being full. But then you heard a small plea, Kyungsoo’s grip around your hands tightening drastically, and you go pliant under the weight of his need.

You know how he likes it. Deep and slow, dragging out and savoring each precious moment until it feels like every inch of your souls has been set to flames. He likes it when every movement has intention, purpose, from the stroke of his hips to the flutter of his eyes. He likes the toe-curling passionate kind of sex that hits you so deep in your chest that you couldn’t fathom any other kind. The kind that makes your love for him sore like a burning phoenix through the night sky.

You weren’t sure if you’d be able to do it as well as he did, if you’d be able to make his toes curl and his soul blaze, but you’d give it your best shot— and that was more than enough for him.

You move over him like liquid, with slow, languid motions that require a surprising amount of effort, drowning him in the dark depths of your desire with every deliberate thrust. Beneath you, Kyungsoo’s back bowed deeply off the mattress, his sweat soaked chest pressing flush against yours. Like that, you could feel the rapid thundering of his heart, each beat echoing through your bones.

Full lips caressed the shape of your name, stroking each syllable like it was his saving grace, his holy salvation. You felt yourself leaning into the sound, seeking out his voice between your own breathless moans.

Heady desperation gnawed at your self restraint, the deep burn gradually consuming the muscles in your thighs and core forcing a sloppiness into the previously controlled movement of your hips. But Kyungsoo made no complaint, whispering only praises against the raw flesh of your lips. Each sultry word fed the raging fire in your belly, pouring gasoline onto the flames created by the pressure of his cock gripped within your walls.

Dull nails bit into your knuckles and Kyungsoo let out a gasp of your name. “I’m close.” He warned between jagged inhales, but you could only cry out as his hips snapped up violently, burying the whole of his length inside your wet cunt.

“Soo— oh god—!” you went still above him, panting and gasping and shaking as he began fucking himself into you from underneath. Though the space was limited, he still managed to plunge into you with a force that fractured your sanity. The strong grip he had on your trembling hands was the only thing keeping you from collapsing on top of him. Each vicious thrust succeeded in hitting that vulnerable bundle of nerves, stars flickering behind your closed eyelids.

“You feel perfect. I bet you look gorgeous.” His voice was a hoarse snarl, searing against your throat and lashing across your tongue. You keened into the destructive sound of it, loving the way it ruined you. “Wanna see you, baby. Wanna see you when you come all over my cock. Let me see you, gorgeous, please. Please.”

You didn’t bother trying to respond, knowing any words would only fracture like glass on your lips. Instead, with quivering fingers, you clumsily tugged the lace off from over his eyes, casting it uncaringly onto a nearby pillow. Pools of pure blackness greet you; blown, unfocused pupils immediately locking on yours. There was nothing but pure, blazing, unbridled lust, so deep and intoxicating that it made your head spin.

The corner of his mouth curled dangerously. “Hands, too?”

Nodding dumbly, you fumbled with the silk tie binding his wrists. The moment it went slack, his hands were on you, greedy and rough and everywhere; in your hair, on your throat, groping your chest, gripping your ass. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, suffocating on the fire he was breathing into your lungs.

In a split second, you were sprawled on your back, moaning and gasping as Kyungsoo pistoled his hips into yours.

“So. Fucking. Perfect.”

You wrapped your legs tightly around him, heels pressing into the ample swells of his ass as you gripped onto him for dear life. “I’m gonna come— Soo, I’m gonna come—” you were babbling like a fool, speaking clumsily into the skin on his shoulder. He groaned throatily at the pressure of your teeth on his collarbone, thrusts speeding up to a punishing pace. Deep and hard and passionate, you felt each one resonating through the very core of your being.

A hand slid between your sweat soaked bodies, skilled fingers making quick work of locating your clit. A violent tremor seized your body, a strangled whimper bursting from your chest. Hot pleasure pulsed through you, unrelenting and overwhelming. You squirmed and begged, writhing in bliss beneath his ministrations. Then all at once you cried out, spine arching, muscles tensing as your high crashed over you.

“That’s it. Fuck, good girl. That’s it.”

The world around you swam, blurry and out of focus as the force of your orgasms ripped through you like a wildfire. You felt Kyungsoo faltering above you, hiccuping moans shuddering past his swollen lips. Then he tensed, choked on a gasp, and you felt the warmth of his release pouring into you. Your muscles went slack, head falling back into the pillows as you surrendered yourself to the post-orgasmic bliss that draped itself over you.

A shiver rippled down your spine as he gently pulled out, before collapsing onto your chest. You giggled breathlessly as he nuzzled his face between your breasts, his damp hair tickling your throat.

“That was amazing.” He hummed contently against your feverish skin.

“I told you you’d like it.” You remarked with a smug grin, yelping in shock when he nipped at one of your nipples in retaliation for lack of a better response. You shoved at his shoulders playfully and he rolled off of you with a low grunt, providing you with the perfect opportunity to escape into your connected bathroom for a hot shower. But the second you were on your feet, a hand shot out and grabbed your wrist. You spun with a gasp, falling gracelessly back onto the mattress.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Kyungsoo all but growled, crawling on top of you, an animalistic glint in his hooded eyes.

“To wash up?” You said slowly, though it came out as more of a question.

He chuckled, a low, devilish sound that made your thighs subconsciously squeeze. “Oh, we’re not done yet.”

Your brows raised, and you were shocked at the spark of excitement that rushed directly to your spent core. “We’re not?”

He dragged the tip of his tongue salaciously over the full pink flesh of his lower lip and reached over to pick up the lace blindfold, dangling it tauntingly in front of your face.

“It’s my turn.”

[midnightmoonkiss]

PIRATE DEKU 😩💘 but also.. pirate deku with a mermaid reader !!

Mermaid, ay?

This could go one of two ways..

Deku is in a ship wreck and almost drowns but you save him.. or

Deku somehow enters mermaid infested waters and it is not pretty.

Pirate Deku X Mermaid Reader

Word Count: 900+

I’m picturing this..

The infamous Midoriya Izuku, captain of the Sleeping Dove, fastest ship to sail the waters, somehow gets captured by other pirates

Old rope tears into his skin, tied tight and bound against a mast. Rain thunders down on them, his ripped, white cotton shirt that’s stained with dirt and blood is plastered against his skin.

Green locks frame his face, defining his cheekbones covered in freckles and sharp jawline.

He was stripped of everything but his clothes and boots, it left him feeling terribly naked and damn near afraid.

He knew the waters they were sailing into, he knew those rocks that jutted from the ocean and tore strong ships down, he’s seen it all before.

He’d warn the crew.. but a dirty rag was tied around his mouth. His screaming muffled, his thrashing about ignored.

The skies turned dark despite it being midday, unnaturally so, even in this sudden storm.

And then... they heard it.

The angelic noise that drove all lust-crazed sailors to their death-

The singing of a mermaid.

Hell, if he wasnt bound right now, he’d probably be driven to his death as well.

Confusion stirred on the ship, but it wasnt long until the majority of the crew was looking over the railing and into the sea where no doubt a plethora of mermaids call to them.

And finally..

One jumped in.

And it became a blood bath.

It all happened so fast..

The railing torn from the ship by seaweed, the creaking of the wood as she was pushed and pulled to and fro. For a brief moment, Deku feared the ship would be tipped over and he’d drown like the rest of the men aboard.

Honestly, he felt like that wouldve been a bit better than hearing the cries for help that pierced through the previously silent night.

The stench of blood made the air thick, the rocking of the boat making him dizzy despite usually finding comfort in it.

He had to get out of here.

In his panic to slither out of the ropes like a python, he didnt notice a mermaid staring at him from behind, her arms freckled in drops of sea that reflected the light of the moon like precious gems.

She found him pretty.

Handsome, even.

Too gorgeous to kill, yet she desperately wanted to dance with him under the waves.

He only noticed her when she cooed at him.

He froze with fear, laughing under his breath.

Mermaids love the scent of fear, it intoxicated them-

He couldnt show fear, he couldnt let it freeze his veins and numb his body - unless he wanted to die, and he most certainly did not want to die.

“You remind me of a fish trapped in a cage.”

Her statement caught him off-guard.

Sure, he’s her mermaids sing.. but never speak. They weren't much for talking as much as they were for tearing human flesh from bones.

He somehow got the cloth that silenced him out of his mouth,

“Is that so?” He felt the need to reply to hide his nervousness, “Well I hope I’m not trapped for long.”

Just then, another mermaid jumped high out of the water, spraying those still on board with salty sea water before grabbing someone screaming bloody murder and flopping back into the water below.

Izuku gulped.

“I hope so too.”

He inhaled sharply through his noise, her intoxicating voice right behind his ear.

While he was previously distracted, she jumped on board, gained her land legs, and made her way over to him.

The ropes then were sawed off by a jagged knife she held, and he was free.

“You know, if you stay here, you’ll die.” She giggled, watching him crawl cautiously around the boat, strolling after him.

“And if I leave, I still die.” He was in quite the predicament, but he needed the things stolen from him before the ship sank - which, by the sound of it, wouldn’t be before long.

He ran about below deck, searching for his stuff like a mad man while she watched with childlike curiosity.

Once he had everything, all that was left was getting the hell out of dodge.

The ship was sinking, and he was the only sailor left.

He didnt know what to do.

He may be Captain Midoriya, but fuck, that didnt make him some super hero that could easily escape deaths door - even if he’s miraculously done it several times before

“Let me help you.”

You offered with a devilish smile.

“Why.. what do you want in return..”

He was cautious, even now. Even if you did help him, mermaids were not to be trusted. They took that trust and ate you alive.

Your arms wrapped around him from behind, hands feeling up under his shirt.

“Take me with you.”

He didnt have time to argue, and so, he agreed.

Take a chance or die, and he wanted to fight against fate.

The story of how Captain Deku escaped mermaid waters became muddled as the story was passed around, it somehow turned from

‘A mermaid saved him!’

Into

‘He slaughtered every mermaid that came at him, sunk the ship, and took off on a row boat with a hole in it!’

Not that he would deny that story.

Hell, he’d even elaborate on it. Drunken lies didn’t matter, right? He’d sail away before dawn broke the sky anyway.

He didnt learn your name until a month at sea with you on his ship.

“(Y/N).” You whispered into his ear, hot breath sending shivers down his spine as your hips ground down against his hardening member.

“(Y/N)..” he repeated breathlessly, cheeks burning wish a blush, mesmerizing jade eyes glazed over with lust, lips soon becoming preoccupied by your own as you both fell back against his bed.

He would soon familiarize himself with the name throughout the night, and you’d be able to know the effect the title ‘Captain’ had on him in his bedroom.

Horny pirates, am I right?

[write-like-wright]

Romantic Smut with Herlock and fem Reader? Idc who's the dom- it could be switch if u want

You know what, we're just dating Herlock now. We had our meet cute and we went on a couple of dates, now we're gonna jump his bones like the Victorian temptress that we are.

Pairing: Herlock Sholmes x female reader

Warnings: loving smut, improper Victorian feelings, Herlock is your boyfriend may God help you

Word count: 1,026. All my Herlock fics turn into mini novels for some reason.

A few months went by since your faithful meeting at the park. You were seeing Herlock almost daily at this point, either meeting up for a meal at his place or taking a stroll together on his way home from a crime scene. Sometimes he'd just pop out of nowhere, hungry for attention and affection. You'd gotten used to that somehow, as strange as that sounds.

In all that time you'd shared your fair share of kisses - most quite chaste, some not at all. Herlock would walk you home usually (as it turns out, your lodgings aren't that far from his) and depart with a single gentle kiss. Sometimes he'd steal a few pecks here and there during your weekly 221B Baker Street dinners when Iris left the room. As sweet as his kisses were, they left craving more and you suspected he felt the same. If his usual gentlemanly demeanour was anything to go by, it would be up to you to initiate that something more.

So you did.

One evening you enter his lodgings and you are greeted by, well, not much, to be honest. The dinner isn't nearly as lush as usually and it's not just the absence of the roast that catches your attention.

"Where is Iris?" You inquire as he takes your coat. "Ah, forgive me for not letting you know in advance. Iris will be staying with her friend for the night. Miss Lestrade, you've met, I believe." Indeed you did. The girl introduced herself as a police inspector then relieved you from your coin purse during the dinner. You got it back eventually, though it did take some intervention on Herlock's part. "I see. So we are to be alone tonight?" He laughs, settling down on the pink sofa. "Will that be a problem, my dear?" It's the opposite of a problem, if you are to be honest. It's a sign. He offers you his hand and you sit next to him, as close as you feel is appropriate. "No, not at all," you say, hands fidgeting with the fabric of his gloves. "In fact, I'm quite partial to some privacy."

Herlock raises one inquisitive eyebrow, but you're fairly certain he understood you all too well. His deductions are never amiss during such moments. "My, whatever for, my dear madam?" You snort before pulling him in for a kiss by his collar. "Oh, hush, you horrible man." A small chuckle rumbles through his chest and he puts his hand on the back of your head, deepening the kiss. You stay like that a while, your body pressed against his chest and lips intertwined. You're the first to break ths kiss, gently pushing him away with your palm on his chest. He's quite muscular, you suddenly discover. Good lord.

"Hurley," you start, trying to catch your breath, "Would it be wrong of me to presume you'd planned this out, hm?" There's a twinkle in his blue eyes. "Why would I do that, my dear?" A sudden rush of boldness runs through your veins. "To get me like this, for instance?" You scramble forward until you're straddling his lap. The position is more than a little awkward, but he doesn't seem to mind, hands suddenly trailing up your sides. "My dear madam," he licks his lips, "It would seem you too are gifted in the art of deduction." Deduction or seduction, you snicker to yourself, leaning in for another kiss. You lead his hands to the buttons on your dress and he takes his time undoing them, struggling more than you thought he would. His shirt is open at this point, your hands moving over his ripped chest and torso. Full of surprises, Herlock is.

You rise off his lap and strip off your dress and undergarments while he watches, speechless for once. Standing bare before him, you ask, "Well then, Mr Sholmes, how would you like me?" He blinks as if confused then laughs. "Any way you'll have me, my love." In an instant he stands and picks you up in his arms, making way towards his bedroom.

***

He gently places you onto his plush bed, making quick work of undressing himself before plopping down next to you. You take the chance and roll on top of him, bending down to capture his lips in another heated kiss. His cock twitches beneath you and only then do you realise where you are and what you're about to do. Sensing your hesitation, Herlock breaks the kiss and gently pushes your hair back. "My love, we don't have to- we don't have to do anything, really. We can just go and have our dinner, if you'd like." You can't help but laugh. What a gentleman he is. "Oh, no, no, Hurley. Trust me when I say I've wanted this - I've wanted you for a long time. I just can't believe I'm about to have you." His face softens, a genuine smile spreading across his youthful features. "Well then, I'm all yours."

He's earnest, you can tell, watching him relax under your touch. You take your time exploring his lithe body, fascinated by the ripples and scars on his flesh. His cock twitches with every roll of your hips, small sounds escaping his bitten lips. His clever hands are everywhere at once, stroking and squeezing and pinching. It's his puckish spirit, he tells you, can't help himself.

You sink around his length once you feel you're ready and he looks like he's about to cry. His hands are on your hips now, guiding you, helping you lift up and gently pushing you back down. It feels good, so good every time you grind against him, your folds brushing against the bone of his pelvis. You knew it wouldn't take long with how pent up you'd been, but you had no idea you'd finish that quickly. He looks at you surprised and more than a little smug. "My word, darling, you sure know how to stroke a man's ego." You laugh on top of him, casually grinding your hips once more and he whimpers, his smugness cut short.

"Oh, Hurley, I've only just begun."

[retrocontinuity]

Eat, for this is Her Body: Chainsaw Man and the Doxology of Cannibalism

"One day," Anthony Oliveira writes in "The Year in Apocalypses," [Jesus'] disciples approached their master while he was silent in prayer and made a request: 'Lord, teach us how to pray.'" From here, Jesus teaches them the Lord's Prayer, what the Catholic Church once called "the summary of the whole gospel":

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

Denji is no one's disciple. When we first meet him, he is closer to how Oliveira describes Jesus himself, "homeless, gleaning for food in the field like a sparrow and relying on the kindness of strangers to put him up, . . . a man cheerfully resigned to powerlessness." And so, Denji doesn't need to be taught how to pray. He has always known. Every bone in his body at the opening of Chainsaw Man sings out the Lord's Prayer: "forgive me my debts", "deliver me from evil." And, of course, Denji is intimately familiar with the prayer's most pitiable, most powerful line. It's this line that he cries out to Makima when he rests, Pieta-like, in her arms at the end of the first chapter. It can only be this line, one that Denji might have written himself:

Give me, from this day forward, and for all the rest of my days, daily bread.

Bread runs throughout CSM like a mocking scent that you only fully identify in the last two chapters. It should have been a sign to all of us when the first meal Makima buys for Denji is not bread (but rather a hot dog and udon noodles). It isn't until Denji meets and enters Aki's home that he is seen making a hideously overladen slice of toast for himself, luxuriating in having all the toppings he was denied. The morning after she forces Denji to open the door to Power's death, Makima makes the very breakfast she once promised to serve Denji: eggs, coffee, salad, and sliced bread. But this is a meal that Denji never eats—maybe the only meal in the entire series that he, a survivor of the meanest starvation and poverty, ignores. There is only one other time we see this meal in CSM, and it is subtle, almost off camera, though no less meaningful: in Chapter 53, after Reze's death, as Denji sits down to breakfast once more with Power and Aki.

To revisit CSM's public safety arc is to see all the ways the plot connects itself to food and the act of eating, both appetizing and revolting, both profound and profane. Denji, eating gyoza at a bar for the first time. Denji being forced to swallow barf as he is kissed for the first time. The Fox Devil, who eats indiscriminately and on command, who refuses to return to Aki after being fed something disgusting. A fox that is hunted and transformed into stew. Denji eating sandwiches at Reze's cafe. Aki and Angel eating noodles. A woman sitting down to eat a hamburger for the first time, before she commits mass murder. She is worried she has lost her taste buds, yet she exclaims, "So delicious!" We know, later, that this woman is a liar, that no part of her is what she presents herself to be. Should we take this moment at its face value then? Was Santa Claus simply lucky enough to have preserved her sense of taste? Or was it her one last act of humanity, to recognize that it is not enough just to eat, that man does not live on bread alone, that there must be at least food that is also delicious, that inspires people to get up and dance—even if it means she has to lie about what she can experience?

Food is necessary for survival, and CSM is a story about survival. But CSM is also a story about glimpsing the after. After you know you can keep living, what next? After you are no longer starving, after you have been forced to kill a friend, after you have touched your first boob, after you have been betrayed, what next? After you are tired of eating toast with jam for breakfast, what do you eat next?

The version of the Lord's Prayer we tend to recite asks for "our daily bread." But this, most modern scholars believe, is a mistranslation. The Greek adjective as it appears in the Gospel of Matthew and Luke is "epiousios," which doesn't mean "daily" at all, but rather something too complicated etymologically for me to even begin to parse. The point is that what we ask for in the Lord's Prayer is not just bread for today, but bread for tomorrow. Both the physical bread and the spiritual bread. Bread on this kingdom of earth, and bread that is the kingdom of heaven. Bread to feed our bodies, and bread to feed our souls. The realm of the divine is full of these moments, isn't it? Of two things existing at once, in one.

Denji starts the series asking for daily bread, and ends the public safety arc with Nayuta, Makima's reincarnation, asking him for daily bread. Trash heap Denji, living with his not!dog Pochita, really was just asking for daily bread. A slice to eat for breakfast, maybe even with butter and jam. But he too learns that bread, physical bread, is not enough. Merely to subsist, to eat good food, is an empty life. And what he must give Nayuta is not just bread, as was given to him. Otherwise, he will be trapped in a cycle of creating more Makimas. Instead, he must give her a relationship, a family, a world that Makima was unable to create. He must give her, in Pochita's words, lots of hugs. He must give her, in the words of the Lord's Prayer, epiousios.

To be clear, I am not arguing that CSM is meant to be read through a Catholic lens, and I doubt Fujimoto had all of this in mind when he wrote it (though he must have thought something, given that he drew a very large print of Gustave Dore's "Satan descends upon Earth" in Makima's entranceway!). But there is something primal (primordial?) about the Lord's Prayer. If every reader can understand the horror that the Darkness Devil represents, so too we can understand the intimacy and comfort of the Lord's Prayer. It is, as Oliveira writes, "a simple peasant's mantra for detoxing anxiety." Jesus opens by addressing God as father—not king, not an all-mighty spiritual being, but rather "abba, which is rather closer to 'dad,' and not in the intercultural Greek of his adulthood, but the Aramaic of home and childhood." The Lord's Prayer asks for what we always want, the only thing any of us have ever wanted since leaving the womb as infants: for no bad things to happen, for there to be enough to eat.

Even if what we have to eat is another person.

At the center of the Christian liturgy is the Last Supper, and at the center of the Last Supper is a meal that functions as ritual, abomination, accusation, transubstantiation, paranoia, and an early example of cracking open a cold one with the bros. Here, Jesus shares bread and wine with his disciples and then, as if trying to invent r/creepypasta years before its time, informs them they are actually eating his flesh and blood. This image is so powerful and heretical that the Romans accused early Christians of being cannibals. And why shouldn't they? It's there in the text. "Take, eat. This is my body. This is my blood." Stripped of the grandeur of tradition and ritual, this is downright vampiric. And yet it goes on to become the cornerstone of the Christian faith.

Oliveira begs us to see the Last Supper as a family meal, one shared by Jesus and his found family. "All he is really saying is, 'I hope when you eat together, you remember me.'" It's a good reading, one that moves me to tears, and is the framework through which I see the events of chapter 80. Because Makima is not the first time that Denji "consumes" a friend, and I don't just mean him sucking Power's blood or taking Pochita into himself. When Aki died, he left half his fortune to Denji, who uses it to support himself and Power. They "pigged out on good food," he tells us. This is Aki's symbolic body, through which he provides Denji his daily bread. Eat ice cream and onigiri in remembrance of me.

But it is not how I see the events of chapter 96. Denji does not eat Makima in the context of a feast. He does not partake of her in a communal meal, as Jesus did, among his found family. He eats every bite of Makima alone. Jesus said before his death, "this is my blood, which is shed for many." Yet Denji says to Makima, I alone will absolve you alone of your sins. I alone will bear you alone.

Denji's Last Supper is a lonely remembrance. He is hoping that no one but him will remember her. He is hoping to wholly consume her, because he loves her. "We love as cannibals," French philosopher and activist Simone Weil wrote. "Beloved beings . . . provide us with comfort, energy, a simulant. They have the same effect on us as a good meal. . . . We love them, then, as food." In fact, Weil believed we cannot love any other way. As humans, we are forever doomed to want to eat the ones we love. In order to escape, we must both be devoured by God and then become food for our fellow human beings. As Alec Irwin writes of Weil's philosophy, "the devouring violence of God must be positively harnessed in order to dismantle the machinery of human cruelty."

If Weil is right and being devoured is transformation, a crucial part of salvation, then in eating Makima, Denji redeems her. He turns her into food to break the cycle of her cruelty. For Makima's power itself is consuming, cannibalistic. She "eats" humans in order to use her power, which remains mysterious like God moving across the face of the earth, leaving only broken corpses as a sign of its presence. So it must be Denji, not Chainsaw Man, who does the consuming. If Pochita had consumed her, as she had always prayed for, then it would simply be another act of violence being enacted. Instead, Denji gives her salvation by turning her into human food—his food.

To Denji, Aki was human, his family, his brother, his friend.  It is Makima he loves as a God and a woman. To him, she is Satan and God, his betrayer and his creator, his salvation and his friends' damnation. So he must take her, consume her, digest her, excrete her, reduce her to nothing, as she once consumed and excreted and reduced him. "I ate her to become one with her." He ate her to become her. There is no truer form of his love than for Denji to take Makima into himself. I use those words purposefully, because this is the rejection of classic cishet PIV penetration, that old hoary chestnut of men inside women. As Don Delillo famously outlines in White Noise, we talk about sex as if women are containers, rooms, elevator lobbies: "He entered me," "I want him inside me," "I took him into myself." Denji and Makima never have physical sex, but this is a consummation, a reversal of roles. We are given the only sex that Shounen Jump will allow us, with Denji taking Makima into himself. She enters him. She is inside him. He is—physically, emotionally, willingly—penetrated by her flesh. She is released inside of him, becoming part of him.

Because the divine is full of moments like this, isn't it? Of two things existing at once, in one. That is the kingdom and the power and the glory. For Makima now lives in that country inhabited by God, where loving and eating are one and the same. For that country is none other than Denji's body.

In conclusion:

Substitute Makima for "God", and the preceding statements are still rigorously accurate.

Further Reading:

Anthony Oliveira's ongoing podcast reading the Gospel of Mark (Patreon exclusive, but I highly recommend, even/especially if you are a heathen like me)

Hannibal (NBC)

Daniel Birnbaum and Anders Olsson, An Interview with Jacques Derrida on the Limits of Digestion

David Farrell Krell, "All You Can't Eat: Derrida's Course, "Rhetorique du Cannibalisme (1990-1991)." Research in Phenomenology, vol. 36, 2006, pp. 130–180. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/24660636. 

Alec Irwin, “Devoured by God: Cannibalism, Mysticism, and Ethics in Simone Weil.” CrossCurrents, vol. 51, no. 2, 2001, pp. 257–272. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/24460795.

[lady-o-ren]

Moonstruck

Chapter One (Here) // Chapter Two (Here)

Chapter Two 

The wolf wasn't beneath the trees.

But his big feet make him easy to track, leading Claire and Caspian out of the wretched wood to a sea of wild hills that look like waves under the heavenly glow of the night sky. As they near two rolling mounds where the tracks drag against the earth, she sees a lonely crofter house nestled between them like a little boat, abandoned and shabby looking, but it's roof is still thatched and the stone walls still stand. Good enough really for a place to rest one's tired head. 

Yet Claire wonders why a wolf would seek a place so out in the open.

Better yet why anyone would seek out a wolf. 

"Because you're an absolute nutter, Beauchamp," says Claire to herself. " Or very possibly you're suffering a concussion." 

Swinging a leg off Caspian, she tugs on his reins with a warning to stay put and gathers a deep fortifying breath before stepping into the shadow of the house where the door hangs open.

Inside, shafts of bright silvery light illuminate the room, seeping in through the only window. There are cobwebs and dead leaves strewn about the place, emptied of almost everything except for a wobbly looking table by the soot stained hearth and a stool that must've been made for a child tucked into the corner. . .

Opposite of the big red wolf, eyes bright as stars in the pale blue dark.

Claire's breath quickens and her pulse jumps at her throat but she manages to keep her voice steady. Somewhat.

"We still have that deal don't we? You restrain yourself from biting my head off and I don't shoot you between the eyes."

A miserable sound echoes from the wolf's maw and that's answer enough for Claire. The floorboards creak beneath her as she shuffles about the room, finding a bit of flint left behind from vagrants come and gone and makes a pleased and grateful sound when the sparse bits of wood in the hearth catch fire. She then kneels down in front of him, fist outstretched and shaking as she chants -

"Please don't bite me. Please don't bite me. . ."

It's only when Claire feels something hot and wet swipe against her knuckles does she realize her eyes have been shut and she recoils in surprise,flat on her arse with a shriek. 

The wolf however snorts heartily.

“You're laughing at me aren't  you?” 

The corner of his long mouth quirks wryly as his bushy tail swings back and forth and Claire finds herself cracking a smile. The first of this very long and preposterous night.

"Well, a sense of humor must mean you have a heart after all. More so than Caspian anyways.”

And she hopes it means he isn't too badly injured.

Claire comes closer again and tentatively runs the back of her fingers against the wolf's broad crown, his dark copper fur soft against her skin, slanted eyes gone to slits. Encouraged now, she scratches behind his ears and the wolf makes a sound of pleasure from deep within his throat and drops his head onto her lap, sighing with heart filled contentment. She laughs softly with growing affection, her fingers finding their way underneath his great maw that makes his head upturn and tail to swish, swish.

"I don't care what you say you're a puppy and a sweet one too, aren't you?"

She then impulsively imparts a kiss atop his head and the wolf bumps his nose against her chin wanting another.

“Cheeky lad,” she murmurs warmly, but gives him another anyway.

However, she came here for a reason and that wasn't to cuddle a wolf.

Stroking her hand along his neck, that has him kicking out a long powerful hind leg, she says -

"I know I don't look it, but I know more than a thing or two about broken bones and gashes. Will you trust me to help you, even if it hurts?"

A beat passes before he licks at her wrist and she takes that as a show of trust and extricates herself from beneath the red wolf. Gently, she probes his back and ribs first and is amazed there's only a few marks from the bear, hardly deep at all. But then her hands pass over a crisscross of scars beneath his thick coat and her eyes meet his, searching.

“Someone's hunted you, haven't they?”

A frightful tremor crawls over him that grips at her heart and without thought she presses herself against him wishing she could ease whatever horror he was remembering.

“I hope you tore the bastard apart. Slowly. Bit by bit.”

His sides lightly shake and she knows it must be laughter.

Pushing her wayward curls behind her ear, Claire then touches him gingerly over his injured shoulder. The muscle is swollen and a part of her wonders if it's just a bad sprain. But she remembers that odd angle of his leg as he walked and how he nurses it close to himself now. 

“If you were a man I'd set your shoulder and wrap it in a sling. I've done so before though it's no small feat. But I haven't so for an animal much less a bear-sized wolf . . .” She sighs. Upset with herself.  Hand at her brow, the cut throbbing more so now. “There isn't much I can do without another pair of hands."

She looks helplessly at the wolf.

But there's no way for him to express to her that it's alright, he's suffered worse. And would gladly do so again and again if it meant keeping her from harm. This brown haired lass like no other woman he's ever seen before. Sae bonny and brave. 

So he nuzzles her palm and mouths the soft skin like the puppy she says he is and feels his heart swell and the pain in his arm to cease when a smile softly graces her face lovelier than a moonbeam.

Aye, she was worth it.

Claire leaves him for a moment to settle Caspian for the night in the old byre behind the crofter house and comes back with blankets from the horse's saddleroll, a flask and a fold of her cloak full of bittie yarrow leaves she'd found growing between the stones.

The flask is filled with brandy (courtesy of her former betrothed) that she douses torn strips of her gown with to clean the wolf's wounds (murmuring sweet things as she does so knowing how sharply it stings) while the yarrow leaves are mashed between her teeth and applied carefully like a salve. 

For his poor shoulder however, she says -

“I promise I'll figure out what to do in the morning. I owe it to you for saving me. Thank you by the way,” she softly adds, and scratches behind the wolf's ears as he likes until his eyes begin to droop and a long winded yawn escapes her mouth.

She's exhausted. Body bruised and aching from being tossed around like a ragdoll but she doesn't think she can sleep in a gown that's been slobbered and bloodied. So while the wolf is fast asleep, Claire undresses down to her chemise and stays and quickly wraps herself in one blanket while laying out the other for a makeshift bed, leaving her cloak to dry by the hearthfire.

Her ruined gown however she grasps in her hands.

No longer did it shine with promise. 

No longer was she to be a bride.

At least not for him. 

“The bloody two-faced fucking bastard,” Claire mutters angrily, tossing the damn garment across the floor to gather dust as a tear rolls down her chin. She then curls herself into a ball by the fire, shivering beneath the scratchy grey wool, and wrings her heart out of any lingering affection she's ever had for Frank Wolverton Randall by remembering the last moment she saw him. 

That morning of their wedding behind the church. Swaying on his feet as he groped a woman she could've sworn was his cousin. And then keeled over, grasping his manhood right after she kneed him.

If only they hadn't been on sacred ground she would've kicked him too.

But just maybe he pissed himself.

Lost in that ever pleasing hopeful thought, Claire is startled to feel a deep huff of breath cloud down her neck like steam and looks up to see the red wolf looming above her.

"You absolute fool," she scolds, though it's spoken without bite as she sits up to cradle his face with both her hands. " You're only making things worse for that shoulder of yours."

The wolf doesn't care. He nuzzles her cheek where the brokenhearted tear had fallen, making a sad whimpering sound as he does so that endears him evermore to Claire's heart.

 "No use arguing with a stubborn wolf is there?" 

There isn't. He licks the side of her face making her softly giggle before plopping down beside her with a heavy thunk and Claire can do nothing more but sink down against him, his fur radiating a tender warmth that seeps into her tired bones.

//

Claire wakes with the morning light that floods the room and stings her eyes that immediately shutter close behind the back of her arm.

While embers have kept the room bearable, she knows the only reason she hasn't woken with a sniffle is because of the heavy, heated weight that engulfs her like a brushfire. Drowsily, she lets her hand wander to the furry head atop her chest that rises steadily with a deep inhale of smokey air and then strokes softly down until her palm oddly meets naked flesh. . .

Her eyes bolt open and through the sleepy blur she sees a stranger, big and naked draped across her, mumbling something hot-breathed and incoherent as he smothers his face between her breasts right before she screams.

[inkformyblood]

the belonging they beg for

Day 02 @bobadinweek prompt: Armour

Warnings: Identity issues

Boba ran his hand over the edge of the vambrace, working his fingers beneath the jagged raised edge of the metal to try and lessen the biting pressure on the bare skin beneath.

A memory sparked in the back of his mind, the edges softened and worn by the relentless march of time, of watching his buir swing himself into the pilot seat and settle back, curling his fingers over the edge of the vambrace in the same motion. Boba had intended to fix it, but, like most things, it had fallen by the wayside, one idiosyncrasy of his armour among others, like the buckle that had to be pulled to one side to let the clasp release on his chest plate.

But he had forgotten what it was like.

Grief and guilt twisted his stomach, burning acid — both remembered and actual — settled at the back of his throat, and he rose from the pilot’s chair, unsure of a destination but knowing he had to move.

“I’ll drive for a bit.” Fennec slipped into the seat he had just vacated like a living shadow, pinning him with a stare as sharp as any vibroblade. She raised an eyebrow, tilting her head just so, and Boba was eerily reminded of the carrion birds that had surrounded her when he had found her, all sharp edges and a burnished beskar core.

“You sure?” His voice cracked, and he stretched out a hand to press his fingers into the faint indents in the back of the chair — signs of a ship that had been well-lived in and damage that occurred when he had been too young to know how to fix it. The thought didn’t cut as deep as it used to, comforted as he was by the weight of his buir’s armour, but his heart still twisted in his chest.

“Go.”

The cramped corridors of his ship seemed brighter than usual, the strip lights glowing like the lightning bugs that danced above the oceans on Kamino on dark summer nights, and Boba followed them, moving out of instinct rather than conscious thought. A sound to his right made him pause, flicking on the scanner in his HUD before he could blink — old habits coming back to him, and they cut deeper than he could have imagined.

Oh.

In the wake of everything and the rush of reclaiming his father’s armour, his armour, Boba had forgotten about the Mandalorian.

The other man had folded himself away so quietly when they had all come aboard, his voice cracking and breaking in a murmur of thanks as Boba showed him to a small room away from the others. It had been a cell before Boba had begun to refurbish it and the walls still bore the dents and hollows from unwilling quarries, but it was serviceable enough.

Looking through the closed door, the heat signature glowed like a beacon, the reds and oranges of bared skin stealing Boba’s breath before he looked away. Guilt curled in his chest, grasping fingers locking around his ribs, and he forced himself to keep walking, to keep staring at the pale yellow lights as if they would wash the blurred figure of the Mandalorian, curled into a ball on the floor, his face buried in his hands and lost in his grief, from his mind.

Boba owed him more than he could ever say.

Fennec was good company, quick with a biting remark and quicker with a shot, but she couldn’t understand the pain that Boba carried over losing his father’s armour. The Mando did.

He could have kept Boba’s armour, denied him his heritage as so many had before, but he was different. But now he was grieving over the loss of his son, a Jetti, and Boba couldn’t help but be amazed at the net the universe had trapped him in.

A spark of pain flared down his arm, and he glanced down to curl his hand beneath the jagged edge of the vambrace once more. The soft cloth he wore wasn’t comparable to his flight suit, presenting no barrier against the metal. It would get fixed in the morning.

There were other things that were different about his armour, but Boba’s mind refused to take stock of the details, skittering away to thoughts of his bed and of the dark comfort of sleep. His boots rang as he climbed up the ladder to his quarters, the sound echoing back to him.

Another memory, drawn up from the depths, bitter through his skull. He could remember curling into the small makeshift cot set at the foot of his father’s bed and listening to the sighs of the ship as it settled. His hand was curled so tightly around the leg of his bantha plush — the fur worn away in places to reveal the woven fabric beneath. As he rolled, his free hand stretched out across the sheets to brush against the hard wood of the carved Mandalorian figure, and he heard the footsteps echo.

He didn’t breathe, couldn’t move, fear bursting sharp and sickening in his chest. His buir was out following up on a bounty, but he hadn’t called out to Boba when he’d entered. He hadn’t heard the musical notes of the alarm system activating or the thunks of someone falling foul of it.

“Hey, Boba. You should be asleep, chek’ika.”

Jango’s hand, warm and calloused, wrapped around Boba’s, drawing him onto his lap with ease, and Boba abandoned his hold on the bantha, the carved figure and the small slugthrower he had removed from the cubby hole to throw his arms around his buir.

The room was cold when he nudged the door shut behind him, collapsing onto the bed with a groan. His armour was solid beneath him, the plates curved around his torso and chest like an embrace. He should take them off to sleep, but darkness stole over him before he could blink, relaxing truly for the first time since he had pulled himself from the belly of the Sarlaac.

His nightmares followed like hunting strills hot on his heels, sending him gasping into the pale light of early morning, his hand steady on his blaster as he rose it towards an enemy too big for him to see and too full of hate to ever die.

⁂

It was such an easy thing to do, and yet…

The water of the refresher beat against Boba’s skull, pooling in the hollows and ridges of his scars and the curve of his bones, before cascading down his back, soaking through his flight suit. His fingers caught the edge of his vambrace, worrying at the indentation it left in his skin, but he couldn’t bring himself to remove it.

Below, he could hear the rumble of the engine cut through by the crackling laughter of Mando, a surprise to all of them and even himself when Boba had managed to tease it out of him days prior. He had frozen before one hand had risen to press to the sliver of skin between his flight suit and his helmet — golden in the brief glimpse Boba had caught before he ducked his head to study his cards.

He knew the other man must remove his armour at times, despite his Creed. At times, after Boba had raised his gaze from fixing the wiring that ran through the Slave One, he had caught glimpses of bleeding red and sunset orange through the heat-sensitive filter, but he had turned away. He was unwilling to break the other man’s vow despite his accidental first study.

Boba raised his hands, taking hold of the fastening at his shoulder and started to pull. Panic washed over him, filling his lungs and sending him to his knees, fresh pain swelling through the damaged joints and a cold certainty that he had broken his prosthetic. His hands shook as he shifted, bracing himself against the wall to swing his legs out in front of him, ignoring the water soaking through every space in his armour.

His father was always careful to maintain his armour and to take care of himself. Ke’juri beskar’gam. And now, Boba couldn’t remove it to look after himself, let alone maintain his armour. Mando has fixed up some of the larger wounds the Jawa’s or the Sarlaac’s acid had left, and Boba could recognise the careful handiwork of the Marshal amongst the more confident touch, but it was still Boba’beskar’gam.

Why couldn’t he take it off?

Deep down, he knew why. He had lost the armour once before and couldn’t live through losing it again.

“Boba?”

Boba couldn’t breathe, couldn’t force his closing throat to croak out a reply, his fingers biting into his arm until he thought he would tear it open—

“Boba. Udesii, ni cuy olar.”

He couldn’t see, dark spots dancing through his vision, a battle raging between the roar of the water above him, around him, and the harsh rush of air pulled into his protesting lungs. He was drowning in burning acid, darkness all around him until he was nothing, until he was less than nothing. He was armourless and alone, his final tie to his buir torn from him until he raised his hand to his face and was met with a gaping hole where his skin had been—

“Boba. I’m here. You’re safe. Your armour is safe.”

Light. Bright and fractured, cascading over the walls — metal rather than living flesh or rippling cloth of a Tusken’s tent — and Boba gasped, pitching forwards, his grip tightening on Mando’s forearms.

The man swayed with his motion, the kov’nyn remaining grounded rather than a true Keldabe, the metal fogged with steam. Boba’s gaze locked onto his, the barest hint of warm brown eyes through the clouded visor, crinkled at the corners with concern.

“I have you.”

“I can’t, I—“ The words tumbled through his fingers as he tried to reach for them, his thoughts scattered and scrambling through memories he hadn’t drawn up from the depths in years: the cold walls of his prison cell, unyielding beneath his hands except for the slow scrape of a sharpened scrap of metal across the walls; a feast, bright and warm, and his buir’s laugh flooding through him as Boba leaps across the table, his hand stretching for the closest weapon.

“You can,” Mando spoke clearly, insistent, and his hands were steady, sliding from Boba’s elbows to his shoulders. There was a pause, a heartbeat’s worth of hesitation before he moved to slide his fingers across Boba’s neck.

His skin was cold amidst the burning torrent of the water, and Boba couldn’t hold back a gasp, twitching away from the touch and yet wanting to press back against it. His gloves were on his belt, Boba’s hands brushing against the soft leather as they settled into the embrace, two broken men trying to blunt their edges for the other.

“Peace,” Mando murmured, his thumbs pressing into the numb edges around Boba’s scars, soothing and granting redemption in the same motion.

“I lost my buir’s armour. I cannot follow The Way.” Anger ignited in Boba’s chest for an instant before it fell away, too weak to do anything more than leave a momentary wound. He knew he wandered the outskirts despite the history of his family, forever marred by the same wounds of his father and yet proud to carry them. “Mando, I’m not like you.”

“Din. My name is Din.”

Din rocked with him, absorbing the crests and swells of Boba’s panic, humming a low note that vibrated through his bones until it had settled there.

Boba’s grip tightened on the vambrace, the edge cutting into his skin and felt part of him die with the motion. He couldn’t part with his armour again, not even for a moment. His buir died in his armour, cut down in a moment, and Boba would follow in his footsteps, maintaining that connection with his dying breath.

Some distant part of him knew he was spiralling, knew he was illogical and panicked, lashing out like an animal in a trap, but here was his home. He could afford to let the panic wash over him now. He couldn’t say why, but he knew Din was safe, knew the other man wouldn’t hold his weakness against him.

“Can you—“ Din caught himself, and Boba saw his gaze shift to one side, a frown passing over the fraction of his face he could see before he continued. “Can you close your eyes? And keep them closed?”

Boba obeyed in an instant, the ringing in his ears and the dull roar of the refresher seeming to grow louder before a familiar sound wiped them away. Din’s helmet unsealed with a sigh and a pop, and he yelped as the water struck him, Boba swaying with the urge to reach out, but he remained in place, his eyes shut.

“You’re safe. Your armour is safe here.”

Din drew their faces together once more, and Boba felt the hesitancy in his hands, the slight intake of breath as their noses bumped together once more.

“Thank you,” Boba rasped during an ebb, his eyes twitching behind closed lids. “Thank you for returning my armour to me.”

Din didn’t respond, but Boba could sense his smile in the way he pressed forward a fraction and the way his grip tightened on Boba’s neck.

“If you’re willing, I can keep watch?”

Boba felt the world right beneath him, panic slipping away in an instant to be replaced with a certainty that flooded through him. It was a panic-driven problem, but what Din was offering was a solution, a way around it.

“Yes. Please.”

The clasp came away easily now. Every piece felt like redemption as water cascaded over Boba, and he hummed, scraps of a song that grew in strength the more he worked. It was a clone song, rhythmic and repetitive, a call and response meant to be shared amongst a battalion as they worked, but Boba sang along with his memories as he worked on his armour, finally cleaning it and himself of the dust and grime that gathered.

⁂

“—we’ll haul away, vode.”

Boba paused, letting his words hang in the air, and sneezed. Dust seemed to cluster with the pockets of sand in Tatooine, dancing in the fractured sunlight that filled the corridors of the Palace. It was a marvel of engineering and architecture, natural light without heat that could be closed off if needed.

Many things had changed since Boba took over the throne, and this was one of them.

“Can’t you see the storm clouds gathering—“

He curled his fingers beneath the vambrace, feeling the worn edge of the metal in the same place where his buir had adjusted it a thousand times before and turned his attention back to the neat tangles of wires in front of him. Boba knew his armour was a blend of beskar, manufactured from whatever a roaming scavengers band of Mandalorian’s could find for his buir, but it was different truly seeing it in person.

He trailed the edge of the multi-tool over a cluster of wires from Florrum, their casing a vibrant teal amidst the dark ties, and paused over a repair patch twined around one. Something bloomed in his chest, another root slipped between his rib cage and Boba bit back a smile.

Just when he thought he had found all of the repairs and small upgrades Din slipped into his armour in the short time he watched over it, he was proven wrong.

The water cracked and gurgled in the room behind him, and Boba took advantage of the break in the steady sound to close his eyes and listen. The slight click of beskar met his ears — the sound sharper and clearer than his own given the blended nature of his armour — and, beneath that, a faint hum. It wasn’t quite words, too soft and gentle, but it was the thread of a tune.

A song about returning to your bunk, safe and secure, after a mission. A song about being surrounded by those who love and care about you during hard times.

Din watched over Boba, so Boba would watch over Din while he was grieving and hurt, and when he wasn’t.

Boba hummed, catching the thread from Din and wove it into the words, feeling the truth he couldn’t say yet flow into them.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you, my love, my one, my own.”

Translations:

Chek’ika: little dagger (affectionate)

Ke’juri beskar’gam: Wear armour (Resolnare)

Boba’beskar’gam: Boba’s armour

Udesii, ni cuy olar: Calm down, I am here.