#has nightmares about the snap of your bone ………..

[noctiva]

Alright I have to know. You say jack is a tough nut to crack. But that still means that he CAN crack. In what circumstances would he break? When w o u l d he beg for you? -👻

HMMMMMMMM im gonna say that it’s going to be after he has a lapse of judgement/accidentally lets the demon instincts take over while he’s around you.

Maybe he hadn’t fed in a few days. His entire body’s rigid, his head is pounding, and he trembles like a soda can about to burst. He’d prefer to not be around anyone when he’s like this, but especially not you. He knows how much of a threat he is. A ticking time bomb set to go off on the first bundle of flesh that approaches him.

Maybe you don’t know. Maybe you’re just worried because you can sense the switch in his mood but don’t know why. All you know is that he’s avoiding you, and you’d like to remedy that.

You get maybe two steps into his room before he’s on you. The hands that grab you don’t belong to the man you know - they’re feral, desperate, uncaring. They belong to a beast. You probably don’t even get a word out before he’s sinking his teeth into your shoulder. No restraint. Just piercing straight through flesh and tearing it from bone. Sinew and muscle fibres clinging on before they snap between his canines.

It would be your scream that sobers him. Tears straight through his psyche like a bullet.

He’d be shoving you away like you burned him, spitting out the chunk of flesh he had stolen from you and retching as he crumples to his knees. Chest heaving, lungs choking on every breath like he’s been plunged underwater. The blood on his lips is so sweet his body begs for more, but it also tastes like you. Because it is you. And that fact makes his entire mind berate him for indulging in the one thing he said he never would.

This, is when he’d beg. After the shock subsides he’d be crawling back over to you, his stomach turning all over again when you flinch away from his touch. But, he’d still push. Fingers trailing up your arm, finding the wound he created and tracing around it - dipping into it, gauging the severity.

When he realizes how deep it is, he sobs. Tears mixing with tar to drip down his cheeks in only black streaks. He’s tearing his shirt off in an instant - pressing it to your injury to try and curb the bleeding while he pulls you in close and cradles you to his chest.

“I’m sorry- fuck- I’m so sorry.”

“I never wanted to- You know I’d never- Not on purpose-“

“You do know that, right? Fuck- Please talk to me-“

This is quite literally his worst nightmare come to life. The cruel nature of the body he’s stuck in sabotaging him, turning him into the monster he knows he is in the eyes of the person who sees the best in him.

He’d stitch you up with trembling hands, croaking our apologies between every stitch. In his eyes, he’s just gone and ruined it all. He’ll beg and plead, but he fully expects you to completely push him away after he bandages you. And he doesn’t know how he’d live with that fact. Knowing he had everything he had ever craved in the palm of his hand, but not having the restraint to keep himself from crushing it.

He’ll beg for you to forgive him until his throat goes raw. Touch you with bated breath like he’s afraid of his own hands. Like he doesn’t trust his own body.

Even if you do forgive him, he’ll never forgive himself. But, he gets a lot better at letting you know exactly what’s going on in his mind - lest something like this ever happen again

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

just had this thought of like . slipping on a sheet of ice and hurting your leg really badly to the point that you’re just sniffling into suguru’s neck when the paramedics arrive and he has to literally restrain himself from not snarling when they try to pull you away from him ….. because you’re in pain and you’re clinging to him and you need him. you don’t want to let go. he knows he has to but it makes him feel sick to his stomach he’s just sitting with you as they drive you to the hospital and holding your hand </3

[tojifiles]

༯ warnings. mature content, fem!reader + toji fushiguro, unprotected sēx, piv, pwp. minors do not interact, please and thank u.

wc. 1.7k (not proofread 🥸)

toji fushiguro is a nice guy.

not in the annoying “i’m a nice guy why won’t women date me” way, but in the “i’ll fix your sink, walk your dog, and probably kill a man for you if you say please” kinda way.

the ex-assassin (and your next door neighbor) is always doing something for someone— mowing the lawn for mrs. takada across the street, teaching the neighborhood kids how to patch a flat tire like he’s not patched gunshot wounds with duct tape before. probably hand-knits blankets for stray cats behind closed doors too.

so when he sees you wrestling with a massive ikea box on your porch that you honestly never stood a chance against in the first place, he doesn’t even hesitate.

“fuck is in here, a whole corpse or somethin’?” he jokes, like he didn’t just pluck the box from your arms, like it was filled with feathers and not the broken promises of swedish furniture.

you give him an airy laugh, wiping sweat from your brow as you tell him it’s your new bed from ikea.

“ikea?” he repeats, like you just told him it really was a corpse in that god forsaken box. “yeah, nah. you’re not building that.”

you blink. “i’m not?”

“uh, did i not just say no? i’ll handle it. don’t want a pretty lil’ thing like you losing a finger over some overpriced planks and an allen wrench.”

and listen. you could’ve argued. you could’ve said you’re an independent woman, with your crappy youtube tutorials and a rusty ol’ hammer.

but instead you just say,

“. . .do you want water or beer?”

god, you swear your bedroom has never felt this small.

toji’s presence takes up space like he was built for it—one knee down, the other bent, thighs straining against those well-worn jeans like they’re one bad movement from tearing right at the seams. his tank is drenched, clinging like it’s got a personal vendetta, outlining every broad inch of him like a glove.

he’s hunched over the partially assembled bed, brows furrowed, scarred lips parted in quiet concentration like he’s studying scripture, not step six of some swedish-coded nightmare.

and it’s filthy, the way your brain strayed, drinking in the way he moved—tight, efficient, obscene without even trying.

every low grunt, every flex of his arms, every time he shifts and that heavy chain around his neck clinks against sweat-slick skin—it’s like you're watching the start of a bad porno.

your gaze drops, uninvited, right to the swell of his chest—broad and heaving—and lower, past the way his shirt clings to his dreadfully slutty waist, all the way to the waistband of his jeans.

the way they sit, low and loose, slung across those hips like temptation incarnate—

“you good over there, sweetheart?” his voice breaks through the haze, all casual and smug. “been eyein’ me reeaall hard over there.”

you choke.

“oh, uh—i was…” you mutter, blinking like an idiot, “just… making sure you’re not screwing m- it up.”

he hums, not even looking at you, allenkey twisting slow in his grip.

“mm. real thorough inspection you’re doing.”

your a/c is blasting, full arctic tundra, and yet here you are—skin flushed, thighs clenched, your mind absolutely nosediving into the filthiest trenches imaginable.

you open your mouth about to retort back, but he cuts you off with a simple, expectant:

“wrench.”

just that. hand out. palm grasping. not even looking at you.

you pass him the tool, and your fingers brush his. his hand is warm, rough - those thick, ragged fingers that have probably shot bullets into yakuza leaders skulls, probably broken bones, lingering just a beat too long.

and suddenly you’re not thinking about this stupid swedish furniture anymore.

you’re thinking about those same fingers digging into your hips.

gripping the back of your neck.

pressing into your thigh as he—

“you gonna let go, or you just like holdin’ my hand?”

you snap out of your. . trance, retracting your hand like the wrench had transformed into molten lava and burned it. “just um, didn’t wanna drop it. s-safety first, right?”

“riight, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

even though it’s your bed, he hasn’t let you touch a single piece of it. 

not one panel. not one sad screw.

and it’s not like you didn’t offer to help—you did, multiple times!

yet every single time, he just waved you off like you were a gnat.

“jus’ sit n’ look pretty. this ain’t a group project,” he utters, dead serious. you open your mouth once more to argue, and all he sends you is a glare— playful, yet still warning.

and after three long, sweaty hours,

you—

no.

he is finally done.

toji leans back on his heels, wiping beads of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand “there,” he grunts, satisfied. “all done miss.”

you glance at the bed. it does look good. solid. intimidatingly so. 

“looks sturdy,” you murmur, and toji hums in agreement. thick fingers drag slow over his stubbled chin as he leans back, marveling at his piece of work.“mm. might wanna test it out first, though.”

you blink. “…test it?”

he nods, rolling his shoulders, towering and terrible, that glint in his eye nothing short of criminal.

“how ‘bout i help ya out, yeah? call it uhh, ‘mandatory safety inspection’ .”

ᥫ᭡.

“ngh, to-tojiii,” you mewl, nails grasping helplessly at the cushioned mattress beneath you, your glossed dolly eyes fluttering back with each filthy fuckin’ thrust. his strokes are relentless, sharp, each one leaving a raucous snap from his toned v-line on your poor sore thighs.

for such a ‘sweet’ and ‘beloved’ guy, his dick game sure was mean as hell.

“atta girl, look at that,” he grunts, “takin’ me so fuckin’ well.”

your swollen bottom lip is caught between your teeth, an embarrassingly desperate attempt at concealing these lewd noises toji is managing to string out of your chest.

but with the way he’s fucking into you like this, those calloused, worn palms spreading the fat of your ass to give him a front-row view of how his cock is sinking in and out of you, before raising his hand to give it a nice hefty spank—

it’d be damn near impossible to not stay quiet.

your body feels so hot, practically melting as your spine arches further with each roll of his firm hips. the pads of his fingers are digging into the plush of your waist, burning against your skin like he’s trying to brand you with his hands alone.

toji sloows his pace, not enough to give you a break, but enough to make sure you feel all ten inches of him, that evilly thick stretch making your walls stutter. his chest dips down your spine, peppered stubble scratching at the nape of your neck as his full weight sinks over you.

“uh uh, shhh,” toji croons hotly, his breath warm as he leaves a wet kiss along the shell of your ear, “you hear that?”

“h-huh?” you hiccup, and he’s got you soo dumb off his dick that your surprised your still coherent.

“girl. listen.”

and you do. or try to, atleast.

your breathing slows just enough to catch it, between the wet slaps of skin and your pulse bursting in your ears—

creak… creak… creak….

“looks like she’s startin’ to talk,” he murmurs. “guess i forgot to tighten all the screws. oops.”

haha. you'd roll your eyes if they weren’t already damn near in your skull.

toji’s body shifts, swole chest hefted on your back as his beefy arms cage you in. he’s got one hand curled around your wrist, pinning it to the matress, while the other bruisingly grips your waist.

your plushed thighs quiver, ass rippling back with each fluid snap of his hips. he’s so deep, his entire length bottoming out in your sobbing cunt. landing countless blow after blow on that poor spongy spot of yours.

“f-fuuck,” it slips out breathy, caught between a gasp and a whine, your voice cracking with each draaag of his cock. “s’too much— i can’t—”

“yea you can,” toji huffs. “already are.”

creaking turns into clattering, death rattles now, and he’s still not stopping nor slowing. every hit leaves the mattress screaming, legs of the frame wobbling as it lurches underneath the weight of you both.

and your bed isn’t the only thing ready to give out eithet.

“ ‘m gonna, hnnghh— m’ gonna cumm, toj’ ” you sob, shuddering as your core tightens.

“shiit, thaaat’s it,” he pants as your pussy swallows him oh so snugly, and you can feel him start to throb inside of you. “ let ‘toj’ feel you cum ‘round his cock, baby.”

toji’s strokes sloppen, grinding now, likes he’s trying to engrave each and every inch of his cock into your unforgivingly tight cunt. your hips begin to spasm as your pretty glossed lips sputter out mindless, repetitive catches of his name.

he sends one more thrust, mean and s—

crack!

that poor lil’ ikea bed of yours sinks beneath you with a jarring snap, the headboard dipping rudely as one stubby leg snaps completely off— making you and toji slip forward with it.

you yelp, yet it slips into a broken moan as splotches of white fill your blurred vision, body jerking as your saccharine juices spill out onto him.

you let out a pouty whine, lashes fluttering as toji groans, gutturally, his posture stiffening, jaw hanging slack before you feel him begin to spill into you—sticky hazed shades of white rudely painting your insides like his own personal canvas.

the scent of sweat and sex hangs heavily in the air, the only sounds being you and toji left panting. he stills momentarily, assuring his sticky load is plunged deep enough inside of you before easing out with a sharp hiss.

“guess she, uh, failed the inspection,” clicking his tongue as he breaks the silence, acting all disappointed despite the way he’s grinning like a fucking fool— as if he didn’t just knock all you and your beds screws loose.

“you’re buying me a new bed.” you mutter, voice hoarse as your shooting him a mascara stained glare over your shoulder.

“ ya’ gonna let me break her in too?”

and it’s not like you decline— it’d be rude if you did. .

because toji fushiguro is a nice guy, after all.

@ssorenz™ do not, copy, repost or translate anywhere without my knowledge.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Sharing a bed with kny men

Pairings: Yoriichi x fem!reader; Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 5,7k (lmao)

Warnings: injury in Yoriichi's part, smut in Sanemi's part so read if you're 18+, this is a long ass fic y'all, not proofread

This is actually my first time posting Sanemi smut and I'm super scared. Let me know what you think 🥹🤍

Also, do you want me to do other characters too?🫶

Yoriichi

I heard you @laurencrsnt 🫶

All your life, you never even thought about the possibility that maybe, you’ll encounter a demon someday. Why you, out of all people? Why especially you?

Even now with its cold eyes glaring down at you and your shoulder ripped open by its claws, you fail to find an answer for that. Is it your fate to die right here, when you only went out at night in order to buy medicine for your little sister who has fever? Is dying the cruelest death really your destiny when you wish for nothing more than growing old and watching your own children live their lives?

It’s unfair.

You shouldn’t lay here, crumpled onto the still wet street. You shouldn’t feel the sensation of your eyes watering, your hands trembling, your heart racing.

This shouldn’t be your last day walking on this earth. You didn’t even have the chance to find the man of your dreams yet…

It’s ridiculous and you know it, that spark of determination that rushes through your bones. All of the sudden you spring back onto your feet and start running. Out of the city, away from the lit streets straight into the dark woods.

Even if you have to die here, you won’t give up this easily. You won’t allow this demon to end your life without putting up a fight.

“Why do you girls always think you can run away, huh? It’s too easy to sweep you off your feet”, the demon behind you comments dryly.

With a swift motion of his hand, it digs open your tender flesh all over again, sends your violent scream echoing through the lonely forest. You fall to the ground like a bag of rice, your torn leg now refusing its service completely.

“Let me go!”, you shriek in horror.

No, you don’t want to die here, you just want to go back to bed and forget about this.

But the forest ground isn’t your bed and the demon in front of you who’s ready to slice through your throat isn’t only a nightmare.

Your heart sinks to the floor, body suddenly feeling numb and lifeless. You will die here.

“I’ll keep you in good memory. Well, at least for tonight”, the demon jeers at you.

You close your eyes, desperately try to imagine your little sister. She’ll find herself a loving husband and her very own family without any doubt. Even without you around, her life will turn out alright. Even without you around, life goes on. You don’t have to feel sad or guilty, you just have to let go…

“Get away from that woman.”

A low male voice, so charismatic that you think you might dream. He sure must be handsome. Men with voices like that always have a matching face.

A slicing blade, a dull thud. But no claws that dig into your flesh one last time, no bow of relief that you’ve been awaiting for quite some time by now. Your eyelids start shivering. When is this finally over?

“Are you alright? Please allow me to help you up.”

The second something touches your skin, your eyes snap open in an instant. But they aren’t greeted by those venomous red orbs from earlier. No, these ones are soft but strong and have that calming fuchsia color. This isn’t a demon.

This is a man.

“Don’t be afraid. The demon is gone”, he continues speaking with his low voice.

You have no control over your own body and shivering limbs. It’s impossible for you to say a single word. Are you really out of danger? Is it really over?

When he pulls you off the ground, a violent scream escapes your lips. No, you don’t want to die, you don’t want your life to end tonight. Not like this, not without saying goodbye.

“Please calm down, everything is alright now”, the stranger tries to reassure you, but his words don’t even reach your ringing ears.

You gasp for air like a fish on land, forehead now covered in ice cold sweat. This can’t be your end.

If Yoriichi doesn’t act now, you might faint due to your stress. But what is he supposed to do? You don’t seem to listen to his words and touching you might only make it worse. Maybe you need, assurance?

“I won’t hurt you, see? My hands have no intention of doing you any harm.”

Gently, he glides his fingertips up and down your uninjured harm. Despite the look of horror on your face and your gaping wounds, you do have a lovely face and truly remarkable eyes.

“I came here to help you”, he continues until his fingertips finally brush over your tear-soaked face.

What is this feeling of warmth deep inside his chest? You aren’t the first woman he saved from the claws of a demon.

“I would like to accompany you on your way back home-“

“No”, you suddenly blurt out.

Even though lying in bed on your own was all you were able to think about just a few moments ago, the thought feels like a threat now. What if another demon follows you back home? What if your little sister gets attacked because of your foolishness? No, you simply can’t go back now. But on the other hand…Just the thought of sleeping alone here in the woods runs shivers down your spine.

“I…I’ll find a place to stay. Otherwise…they might harm my sister…”, you mutter.

“Allow me to escort you to my estate, then.”

You yank your head to the side in sheer disbelief, eyes searching for a spark of humor in his calming orbs. Is he really serious about that? After all, you’re a stranger. He doesn’t even know your name. Now that you think of it…who is this?

“How can I know for sure that you aren’t a demon yourself?”

“Take my hand”, he instructs you gently.

Is this really a good idea? You take a deep breath in, try to calm down your pounding heart. What do you have to lose?

When your shaky fingers wrap themselves around his much larger hand, you get ingulfed by warmth. His palms feel rough but also comforting against your bruised skin.

“Demons are cold since they are dead”, he explains briefly.

“But I am not. I am a demon slayer. It is my only destiny to safe innocent souls from their death.”

Oh. Your gaze drifts towards a katana that hangs dangles from his belt. No, demon don’t find with those weapons. So, are those words really true?

“You…You want to help me?”

“I’d love to help you if you allow me to.”

What has gotten into him? Did he really offer you to hold his hand, let alone to sleep at his house so you don’t have to fear the night on your own? Never in his life, Yoriichi allowed himself to develop feelings apart from empathy for those around him.

But those eyes. Those eyes of yours really captivate him, devour him fully. How is he supposed to leave you out here, soaked in your own blood with bruises all over your body?

“You…really would?”

Is this really okay? When you were a child, your mother told you over and over that you aren’t allowed to talk to strangers, let alone man.

But…does that also include the handsome, charismatic and armored ones?

“I keep my word. Also, your wounds need care as well. Please, allow me to help you.”

What do you have to lose.

“If that’s the case, I’d love to take your offer”, you reply shyly.

“I’m glad to hear that. I will show you the way-“

A loud groan escapes your lips before you’re able to stop it. His charismatic eyes almost made you forget about the gaping wound the monster from before inflicted on you.

Almost.

“You shouldn’t move your leg with a wound like that. I will carry you to my estate.”

“You will…carry me?”, you mutter with widened eyes.

But just when you try to take a step forward, his words become painfully clear. No, there really is no way you’ll be able to walk anywhere with that leg. But allowing him to carry you?

“I might be a little heavy.”

“Let me assure you, you aren’t heavy at all.”

“Fine…”, you grumble.

“But only a few meters.”

Gently, he stranger wraps his arms around your shoulder and knees before he starts walking.

He smells good. Like a field of flowers on a sunny day. And the way his heart beats against your cheek reminds you that you’re still alive, that you survived somehow.

This man saved you.

“I didn’t even thank you.”

“There’s no need to thank me. This is the least I can do for you after I almost came too late.”

He stares blankly at the blood that still drips from your leg. Just a few seconds later and that demon would have killed you with him simply watching. Why? Why is he not able to save them all, why is he still not good enough to stop this madness?

“Don’t tense up, don’t think anything less of yourself because I was injured. I was a fool for leaving the house this late at night on my own.”

Despite the fact that cold sweat still runs down your forehead and even though your fingertips still shake in shock, you cup his cheek and force his troubled eyes to look at you.

“I am beyond thankful for my rescue. The worst thing about dying today would have been leaving my little sister behind. But you saved me. And not only that, you even offered me a safe place to stay for the night. I really don’t know if…If I’d be able to sleep on my own tonight…”

The stranger doesn’t say a word, his eyes roaming around your face without a real aim.

“Oh, I didn’t even ask. What’s your name?”

“My name is not important-“

“I’m (y/n)”, you introduce yourself friendly.

“My…my name is Yoriichi”, the man carrying you mumbles.

Yoriichi. An unusual name that you’ve never heard before.

“That name suits you well.”

“We’ll arrive soon. I hope you don’t expect a big mansion since I am living in a rather small cottage-“

“I’m living in a tiny barrack in the city. A house in the woods sounds like a dream”, you mutter.

The second you open your eyes again, you find yourself in a wooden cabin with a plain futon lying on the floor and an improvised kitchen in the back of the house. Nothing special, very fitting for the man who gently lowers you onto the futon.

“I will take care of your wounds now”, he announces before taking off his haori and katana.

Without his threatful weapon dangling from his belt, he looks like a normal man.

If it wasn’t for those captivating eyes. He has to be the most breathtaking man you’ve ever seen.

“Fortunately, the cut on your leg isn’t deep. I’ll disinfect the wound and bandage it”, he explains briefly before his skilled hands spring into action.

“You really are good at everything”, you comment.

He’s so gentle that even the alcohol that disinfects your wound doesn’t seem to burn. Why have you never stumbled across him? You were so sure that you know each and every man around that it almost drove you insane. But him? He’s different from all the others. He’s truly special.

“You will have to take your kimono off. I need access to the wound on your shoulder.”

Oh.

“Y-yeah, sure…”

Hesitantly, you pull the blood-soaked fabric down your shoulder so that only your chest is still covered. Yoriichi’s eyes seem to gleam in the moonlight like liquid metal.

“You look lovely”, he flusters into the night.

He doesn’t know what has gotten into him. Is it the alcohol rising up his nose, the smell of blood that radiates from your bruised body that makes him say those strange things?

No. It has to be because of those eyes of yours. Those eyes that captivated him from the moment he first saw them.

"Thank you," you stammer, your cheeks flushing as you nervously tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"You too," you add quickly, immediately regretting your awkward response.

Both you and Yoriichi swallow hard, the atmosphere in the room suddenly changing.

“I am finished. You should rest for tonight. After all, this was a draining fight for you”, he mutters while getting up.

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, heart still hammering so roughly against your ribcage that you’re almost sure he’s able to hear it. What was this tension?

“But…this is your futon-“

“You are my guest. Of course, I will sleep on the floor on the other side of the room.”

Oh. A wave of disappointment rushes over you before you’re able to stop it. What were you expecting, secretly hoping? That this man will share a bed with you?

Honestly, yes.

“You…you really don’t have to…”

Oh, how much Yoriichi wished he wouldn’t have to.

“I insist on taking the floor.”

“I actually want you to sleep by my side. Please.”

The begging tone in your voice stops him mid-track.

“This night was…horrible. A little company would definitely help, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all”, he replies a little too hasty.

“I just don’t want to invade your personal space. After all, I’m a stranger.”

“A really kind stranger”, you add shyly.

Are you acting out of line? You shouldn’t push him to sleep next to you when his offer to let you sleep here is already generous enough, right?

“Forget my question, I was acting out of line-“

“No, not at all. I would love sleeping besides you.”

He crosses the room in an instant and kneels down next to you.

“But let me know whenever I become too much.”

What a ridiculous thought. Why would he ever become too much? Him, your savior, that remarkable man.

You scoot over until your back is pressed against the cool wall, eyes still fixated on his gleaming eyes. Will you really be able to sleep tonight when this is the first time ever a man lies beside you?

And what a handsome one on top.

“You should try to sleep now. Nothing will happen to you as long as I am here”, he reassures you.

That is the least he can do after failing to protect you in the first place.

“Again, thank you for all of this. I definitely own you a favor”, you mumble.

Suddenly your lids start to get heavy, your mind slows down bit by bit. Maybe this rough night really took its toll on you. Is It the safety he radiates, his calming smell? In the matter of seconds, only your low and even breath is heard.

Finally, Yoriichi is able to allow himself a closer look at you. You look so peaceful and innocent with a face so remarkably beautiful that he can’t stop staring. You have to be the prettiest woman he’s ever seen. A man like him really doesn’t deserve lying next to a woman like you. Maybe he should give you space, leave you now that you fell asleep-

With a quiet groan, you draw closer to him in your sleep until your head rests on top of his chest and with your arms wrapped around his upper body.

He doesn’t dare to move an inch, eyes widen in utter surprise. Is this…cuddling? His mind races back and forth, eyes resting on your calm features. What is he supposed to do now?

Hesitantly, he allows his hand to rest on your back. What an unknown sensation, all those feelings that rise up his chest right where your hand rests.

For the first time since forever, he is the one who feels safe.   

He is the one who feels loved.

He is the one who feels warm.

And you? You cuddle yourself against him until the sun rises all over again.

Sanemi Shinazugawa

This one's for you @muichirolover14 🤍

“This is bullshit”, the man walking next to you mumbles under his breath.

“Keep focused. It was Kagaya-sama’s personal wish that the two of us go on this mission together”, you mumble with a fake smile decorating your bright red lips.

And that’s the only reason why you agreed in the first place. Why else would you pretend to be Sanemi Shinazugawa’s personal concubine if it wasn’t for Kagaya-sama and this undercover mission?

The plan is pretty simple. Countless people, including other demon slayers, lost their lives in this little innocent village that becomes a red-light district at night. Nobody knows why or who is responsible for this.

One of the upper moons, maybe.

It just made sense to dress you up as a concubine. After all, you are the light hashira, a mighty swordswoman and probably the most talented out of Mitsuri and Shinobu when it comes to acting.

And then there’s him. You glance at Sanemi’s annoyed face from the side. Why on earth did Kagaya-sama choose him? What about Rengoku, Giyu, Obanai, Tengen, Gyomei? Aren’t they a way better fit?

You sign to yourself.

Truth is, they aren’t. While Rengoku, Obanai, Tengen and Gyomei would stand out immediately, Giyu would never be able to sell you as his concubine. No, no one except the wind hashira is able to make this look natural.

No one but him looks this good in a dark green kimono.

What?

“Stop staring at me like that, brat”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

“I was just hoping you might disappear if I stare long enough, idiot”, you bite back in frustration.

Why does he always have to be so mean, though? You really tried to get along with him countless times, put on the most precious smile whenever you talked to him and made sure to always bring him ohagi whenever you had the chance to. But Sanemi Shinazugawa never stopped hating you. And eventually, a part of you started to dislike him as well. That one part though…

You allow your eyes a minor glimpse at his barely exposed chest. That tiny part deep within your head is somehow still drawn to him. And you hate it.

“Aren’t concubines supposed to shut up?”

“Watch your mouth or I’ll leave immediately.”

“Both of us know you wouldn’t do that.”

You let out your shaky breath, your hand crushing his while you wear the same friendly smile as before.

“Don’t mess with me, Shinazugawa”, you speak out with low voice.

His face tenses up ever so slightly, hand fighting for freedom out of your merciless grasp.

“You’ll regret talking to me like that when we’re alone, brat.”

-at the estate-

“I’d like to show you to my newest possession. Please introduce yourself”, Sanemi speaks out.

Like Amane-sama showed you, you bow in front of the man that looks you up and down with his filthy eyes.

“My name is Kiyomi”, you introduce yourself oh so sweetly.

“That name really suits you. What a beauty you are. I’m sure I’d find a lot of paying customers for you here”, the disgusting man purrs and stretches out his hand in order to touch your face.

“Don’t touch the goods”, Sanemi barks at him immediately before slapping his dirty hand away.

Who does this guy think he is, trying to touch you so casually? No. That jerk isn’t allowed to caress your face. The plain thought of men like him getting to put their hands on you…

Sanemi’s guts turn.

“Aren’t you here to sell her and yourself for the night? If that’s the case, she won’t be your good anymore for the next few hours but mine.”

He smiles at you through rotten teeth, his breath almost forcing you to choke. You are only here to detect the demon who is responsible for the countless deaths in this area. You don’t have to touch any of these men. None of them will touch you.

What about Sanemi, though? An uneasy feeling rises up your chest when your eye catches a group of women who stare him up and down with lust in their eyes. Will he allow himself a taste before continuing with this mission? Will he find a woman he is attracted to? All of them look flawless, too good to even consider the service of a paid men. But if that man looks like Sanemi…

“You will find your room to the right. This is where the female customers choose their good. After paying, you belong to them”, the man explains briefly while showing both of you around.

“Why would these women pay for the services of a man? This is a noble region that is well-inhabited by countless men”, you blurt out.

“It’s not about them being men. It’s about looks. Only the fine-looking men even get the chance to work here for the night”, he explains briefly.

Fine-looking man, huh? Well, there is no doubt in the fact that Sanemi suits that description way too good. With his firm muscles highlighted by scars from countless battles, he looks like a walking god. Let alone his perfect face, his eyes that now look soft and seducing without being irritated constantly. His white hair that frames his features perfectly.

“As for the women, we look for a broad variety of bodies, looks and personalities. You are very easy on the eye and mysterious. I’m sure countless customers will fall for that.”

“And what…what services do they expect?”

The man in front of you bursts out in hysteric laughter, you can feel Sanemi��s eyes piercing through your skull.

“What they expect? Intercourse and everything that revolves around it, of course! Do you think they pay you for some cuddles and nice words?”

You swallow hard. There is no need to do that, right? You’ll somehow shrug them off and investigate this place at night. Maybe you’ll find the demon right away and-

“Now, you are a fine-looking man. Who is this?”, a woman suddenly purrs out of the shadows.

“A new worker for the night”, the disgusting man explains with a dirty smile.

“Well, if that’s the case, I’ll definitely make a reservation.”

“It would be an honor, my lady”, suddenly replies in the same cheeky tone

Your guts turn in an instant, eyes narrowing slightly as you watch how a smile forms itself on Sanemi’s usual resting lips.

“What a gentleman he is. I cannot wait to meet you.”

“The honor is on my side, my lady.”

And then he steps in front of her. Elegantly, he grabs the hand she already holds out and kisses her knuckles. Your heartrate quickens, the warm flush that starts creeping up your face barely covered by your makeup.

Fucking asshole. So he’s acting like a jerk towards you all this time while treating other women like this? You hate the knot that forms itself in your throat, the disgusting feeling of disappointment that rushes over you.

Does he really hate you this much?

“Well, I think I should introduce myself to the customers as well. Have a pleasant night, Sir”, your monotone voice speaks out on its own.

With one last bow towards him, you follow the man into the women’s corridor without even gifting him a single look. Sanemi can’t help but furrow his eyebrows at your sudden reaction. Did you really want to get rid of him so badly? Maybe you’ll actually meet up with some of those guys and…

“Are you interested-“

“I will meet up with you later this evening, my lady. Please excuse me.”

Without another look or word, he storms into his assigned room and closes the door behind him.

Sanemi’s mind starts going insane. What if you actually like one of those guys? Or what if one of them hurts you, tries to force you into something you don’t want? He heard the worst stuff about places like this.

Fuck, he shouldn’t have let you go in the first place. Why you? This mission is way too dangerous for someone like you, for someone this gorgeous-

“I’m losing my fucking mind”, he mutters through gritted teeth.

“I can’t do this”, you breathe out in sheer panic while lying in bed.

No, just the thought of Sanemi having the fun of his life with that girl from earlier feels like ripping your beating heart out of your chest. Will he really share a bed with them?

If it’s for the mission, he definitely would. Nothing is greater than his urge to kill demons, especially when it comes to an upper ranked one. That little sacrifice wouldn’t stop him.

And it breaks your dumb heart.

A hard knock on the door rips you out of your running thoughts. Is this your first customer? All color drains from your face, eyes widen in horror with every bow against the wooden door.

“Just a moment”, your shaky voice shouts.

You…Do you have to look presentable? You have to think about the things you can tell him. Maybe you don’t even have to sleep with him, maybe this will distract you from the things Sanemi is probably doing right now.

You open the door.

And stare straight into the furious eyes of Sanemi Shinazugawa.

Before you’re even able to react, he pushes himself into your room and closes the door behind him before yanking you against the wall.

“What did you do?”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

Your heart starts hammering roughly against your ribcage. Him? Here?

“What the hell are you doing he-“

“Answer my question right now!”, he barks into your face.

“I didn’t do anything!”, you shriek.

“What the hell has gotten into you!?”

“Has somebody touched you?”

His rough hands start running up and down your neck, yank the sleeves of your kimono upwards in a haste.

“What?”, you breathe out.

What the hell is going on? Just when you managed to pull your arm away from him, he grabs your wrist again with his face only inches away from yours.

“Did somebody touch you?”, he screams into your face.

“No!”, you cry back.

“But why would you even care? It looked like you had plenty of fun!”

He shakes his head while looking at you in utter surprise and confusion.

“What non-sense are you talking now-“

“Did you sleep with that woman from earlier when I was gone?”

God, you hate the way your voice cracks in the middle of the sentence, you hate the way your eyes fill with hot tears. He came here to confront you with all those accusations while he was out there having the time of his life, while all you were able to think about is him?

“No, I didn’t sleep with anyone!”

“Stop lying to me!”

“You’re the only one I want!”, he suddenly blurts out breathlessly.

“What?”, you utter in hushed panic.

This has to be a cruel joke, an unforgiving way to stop you from doing anything. Sanemi Shinazugawa, wanting you?

“Since I first saw you with your fucking perfect face and so melodic voice, I can’t think about anything else! You, sleeping with some random guy while I’m just a few doors away. I can’t take it!”

He grabs your head with both hands, eyes staring at you so intensely that you feel like collapsing any minute. If that’s really true, if that’s really how he feels…

“But…I want you too”, you squirm.

“I always wanted you, Sanemi.”

His lips crash against yours with so much power that you almost fall over. Suddenly his hands are all over your body, tongue unforgiving as he discovers your mouth with a passion you’ve never felt before. You allow your very own hands to finally discover the deep valleys of his muscular back, to let your hasty fingertips wander over his tight chest.

It becomes unbearable. Everything starts to become unbearable. That minor gap between your bodies, the clothes that still deny you full access to his naked skin, the feeling of not having enough.

“I need more”, you whimper against his lips, not even knowing what exactly you’re asking about.

Sanemi lifts you up with ease, not even breaking the kiss when he pushes you onto the bed with his massive body lingering on top of you.

You feel like suffocating in the most exquisite way.

“I’ll give you whatever you want”, he breathes against your lips that now find your neck.

A whimper escapes your mouth before you can stop his, body rearing up underneath him.

“S-Sanemi!”

“Fuck”, he hisses before his dark eyes meet you again in distress.

“Tell me you want this.”

“I…what?”

You can’t produce a single logical sound, head still spinning from the unknown sensation that starts building up inside your stomach. Is this what desire feels like?

“Tell me you want this too. Tell me you want me.”

“I wanted you all this time”, you reply without thinking twice.

With a swift motion, you find yourself engulfed by his arms with his lips caressing yours all over again. Like in trance, you begin opening his kimono, expose his bare skin to your merciless eyes.

“You look so shamelessly good”, you whimper.

Oh, how often you pondered about how his chest feels like, if his scars are soft or as rough as his walls.

“Can I…?”

His hands grab the ends of your kimono, eyes staring down at you flustered. Is that blush creeping up his cheeks?

“It’s just…You know…I’ve never done this before…”, you stammer.

“Do I look like I did, idiot?”, he mutters while gently taking off your kimono until you lay underneath him.

Completely naked.

“I mean, yes…”

“No, I didn’t”, he barks.

“I guess I waited for someone special…”

“I did as well”, you reply in an instant.

Is this real or are you dreaming? Sanemi Shinazugawa laying on top of you fully nude. Sanemi Shinazugawa stating that he likes you. Sanemi Shinazugawa’s hand that start moving downwards…

Until he reaches between your legs and simply takes your breath away.

“Are you okay?”, he mutters, eyes filled with worry.

You nod absently, eyes rolling back into your skull. God, this feels like heaven. When a groan escapes his lips, you completely lose yourself. Out of instinct, you grab his neck and yank him even closer towards you, your hot breath clashing against his face.

“Sanemi!”

His name sounds like a prayer coming from your mouth, forces his fingers to move even faster. Is this good? Is he doing everything alright? Your whimpers grow louder and louder, nails digging into his now oversensitive skin with so much pressure that it threatens to burst. You look so gorgeous with your eyes pressed shut, your delicate mouth forming an “o”.

And then you burst right underneath him, scream his name over and over again with your legs shaking. He can’t wait no longer, can’t contain himself another second.

“I need you”, he mutters.

“Please, let me have you.”

“Yes”, you breathe out, mind still spinning when the firework that just exploded in your lower body slowly starts wearing off.

Until you feel him all over again. But this time, not his fingers. Your glossy eyes widen in utter surprise when he carefully stretches you out and disappears inside of you, hands holding onto him for dear life.

“Are you okay?”, he whimpers.

“Please…give me���more…”

He almost loses his mind, the new sensation almost eating him up alive. Countless nights, he dreamed about what it might be like to have you, what it would feel like. But the reality is so much better than any dream.

Sanemi picks up his pace and grabs your waist passionately in order to keep you in place. Over and over, again and again your sticky skin collides with his until he threatens to burst.

“You’re mine”, he presses out through gritted teeth while pounding into you.

“I’m all yours, Sanemi!”, you cry out, nails now leaving marks on his skin.

“I need…ah! I need you! Please!”

He knows exactly what you’re asking for. One last time, he picks up the pace while holding onto you for dear life.

Until finally, you scream his name. Finally, he’s able to let it all go.

“(y/n)!”

He collapses on top of you, his weight leaving you dizzy and unable to move. None of you dares to make a move, the only thing that’s filling the room being your shaky and sharp breaths.

“I love you, (y/n)”, Sanemi finally mutters, his hand caressing your cheek oh so gently.

“I love you too-“

“Mission report, mission report! Kagaya-sama requires a mission re- AH!”

“Get out of here right now!”, Sanemi barks at the crow that casually entered the room.

“WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!?”

“Get out!”, Sanemi screams on top of his lungs before yanking up and hunting the crow butt-naked through the room

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @laurencrsnt

[stylesispunk]

"A lot to live without"

outbreak! Joel miller x f!reader

summary: what are you supposed to do if there is no him.

wc: 2k>

warning: angst, grief. (yes)

a/n: I have more fix it fics to work in, but I also wrote this short one yesterday because i was feeling like shit. Besides, angst is part of my package so why not?

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

You still couldn't wrap your head around the idea your fingers were caressing a name craved on stone.

"beloved father"

"beloved brother"

But what about the beloved lover? that one who had torn apart his walls just to let you in. The one who had kept you safe from your nightmares when he still had his torturing his own mind like demons chasing him constantly.

Oh god, you sobbed, in between short breaths, while leaning your head towards the stone. As if you could feel the warmth of his breath mingling yours, as if his hands would wipe you tears with those callused fingers you loved wrapped yours with. As if you could open your eyes and meet those brown eyes that had softened after the life he had made with, the one he had built with you in here. In peace and quiet.

You almost felt his fingertips caressing your cheeks with tenderness, fingertips caressing with the warmth it comes with life, a life that now has been ended in the cruelest way.

Your heart hurt in a strangely different way. A kind of pain you haven't had felt before. Not even a broken bone or a knife throbbing in your middle could compare to this revolting feeling.

It wasn't physical. It was the kind of pain that seemed to have crushed your soul. That kind of pain that would never pass, would never heal. The one that could eat you little by little because it has sucked the life out of you.

A week had passed.

Seven full days without seeing his face, without waking up with an arm around your middle and a head resting on your chest.

Seven.

Without warm. Without sunshine caressing your skin. Instead, in its place a monstrous cold that had soaked into your bones, like the touch of his hand after his death.

God.  Joel Miller and death couldn’t go in the same sentence. It felt almost ridiculous for a man who has survived all these times just for his life ending in a weak act of revenge.

The world stopped. Yours had stopped.

It stopped the moment Ellie, Dina and Jesse’s horses came through those gates with blood-stained saddlebags and a rolled-up blanket that could’ve been anything. Should’ve been anything. But you knew.

Just it wasn’t supposed to be Joel’s lifeless frame.

Your legs had moved before your brain could stop them, a scream building in your chest, clawing at your throat, spilling out in broken, incomprehensible sound the second you saw it. Tommy’s face — like a man carved from stone, grief hardened in every line, his hand on your shoulder grounding the truth you didn’t want to face.

It was a day of blood under your fingernails, gravel cutting into your knees, and Ellie’s face crumpling in a way you wouldn’t wish on the cruelest soul. The weight in your chest so heavy it pressed your ribs inward until you swore, they’d snap. You begged the earth to swallow you.

It didn’t.

You didn’t know how you were able to get there, how your legs moved beneath you, how your hands pushed the door open past Tommy, but you fell to your knees beside him, the blanket peeled back like some horrible.

There he was.

Joel.

Your Joel.

His face bloodied, bruised, lips split, but still him. Those lashes you used to kiss at dawn. That jaw you traced when you thought he was asleep. Skin pale, lips bluer than they should’ve been.

You reached out, fingers trembling so badly you barely made contact, brushing over his cheek.

Cold.

Not the kind of cold that came with this winter, with long patrol nights or chilled hands warming beneath blankets. The kind of cold that didn’t leave. The kind that sank into skin because there was no warmth left inside.

You sobbed.

“Oh god, Joel,” your voice cracked, a sound you didn’t recognize, “Joel, please—”

And then Tommy was there, kneeling beside you, face wrecked and wet and older than it had ever looked.

“He’s gone,” Tommy choked, like it physically hurt to say.

You cradled Joel’s cheek, tried to find anything, anything warm in him.

“He’s cold, Tommy,” you whispered, your throat raw, “We should—we should wrap a blanket around him. He’ll get sick—”

Your fingers tangled in the blood-matted hair you’d brushed from his face just that morning. Just hours ago, when the sun barely came up and he mumbled about five more minutes, pulling you against his chest, breath warm on your skin.

“He’s cold,” you repeated, voice cracking completely, “He’ll be cold like this—”

Tommy’s hand was on your shoulder, squeezing hard enough to leave bruises you wouldn’t notice for days. His face was twisted, voice breaking as he spoke.

“I know,” he said, ragged and useless, “I know, sweetheart. I know.”

But you didn’t stop.

You curled yourself over him, forehead pressed to his, as if you could will the life back into him. As if the warmth you gave could fill him again. As if the world could undo itself.

But the cold stayed because he wouldn’t come back.

During the second day, you didn’t sleep. Didn’t eat. Didn’t move, unless someone made you.

Your body became foreign. Limbs you didn’t recognize. Hands that trembled even when you told them not to. You sat on the front porch where he’d spent a thousand mornings watching sunrises he pretended not to care about. The chair beside you empties. You didn’t cry this time. You just stared.

People spoke to you. Said words. Food. Rest. Breathe. All pointless.

He wasn’t in any of them.

Just flowers around your house. One you couldn’t face to step inside the door now.

The third day, the dreams started. Not of him alive, that would’ve been a mercy.

You saw his body. Over and over. In the barn. On the road. On the place where he taught you to shoot. Every time you closed your eyes, it was there. And waking up was worse. Because for a second you forgot. For a single, brutal second you reached across a bed for him. And then the cold came in.

You broke the mirror in Maria’s and Tommy bathroom.

Didn’t even feel the glass slicing skin.

During the fourth day, you face yourself and your pain. You stepped inside the house for the first time since his death and the house smelled like him.

It was the soap. The old jacket draped on the back of the chair. The coffee mug you still unwashed. And it was a cruelty, because every breath you took was a lie. The scent fading. You could almost pretend if you kept the door closed, didn’t let the world in, he might still be here.

You found one of his shirts in the laundry.

Sat on the floor with it, knees to your chest.

Cried until your throat burned.

At day five, anger came. That was new.

It came in sharp and bright. Rage at everything. At the world. At the sky for daring to be so blue. At Jackson’s walls for being too damn high to matter. At yourself for surviving. At Joel himself for leaving you behind.

You screamed until your voice went hoarse.

And then it was empty again.

During day six, you counted every hour. Every minute. The clock in the living room ticked so loudly it became a torment. Time moved in jagged, unnatural ways. Minutes stretched into eternities. You watched the light shift through the window like you were watching for him. As if maybe — maybe, he’d step through the door with that crooked, half-guilty smile, calling you by that nickname only he was allowed to use.

He didn’t.

And you hated yourself for hoping.

You wanted to die.

And now, at the seventh day, with you still kneeling on his grave. You told him you didn’t know how to keep going. It was true, you meant it.

“I don’t know how to keep going,” you whispered. Your voice sounded foreign in the still air. “I mean it, Joel. I don’t. I don’t know what the fuck to do now.”

The words clung to the silence.

And then you felt it — not a sound, not a voice, but a presence near you. You knew it without looking. Ellie.

She’d been avoiding you all week. Wouldn’t meet your eyes. Wouldn’t come near you. And God, you understood. You understood that guilt, that heavy, ugly thing gnawing at her broken, now healing ribs. The way it twisted her mouth when she tried to speak and couldn’t.

But it hurt. It hurt more than you could stand because you needed her. And she was too far away.

You lifted your head, your face blotched and raw, and there she was. A few yards away. Standing like a ghost, her arms crossed over her stomach, her face as pale as the clouded sky above.

You could see it in her. That look. Like she wanted to come to you but thought she didn’t deserve it. Like the grief belonged to her alone.

So, you did the only thing you could. You lifted your arm.

In a quite small, weak gesture, but it was everything you had left to give.

Her chin quivered. You saw the shine in her eyes, the battle in her chest. “C’mere,” your voice cracked, half a sob, half a plea. “Baby girl… c’mere.”

And slowly, like she was afraid you’d take it back, she moved.

Step by step.

Until she was close enough for you to wrap your arm around her.

Until her knees hit the dirt beside yours.

Until her head was buried in your shoulder and your fingers tangled in her hair.

And for the first time in seven days, the ache inside you shifted. Not gone. Not healed. But a little less lonely.

Her shoulders shook against you, ragged sobs breaking loose the way neither of you had let yourselves fall apart in front of each other all week. The air was sharp with cold, damp earth clinging to your knees, but neither of you moved. Neither of you could.

You kept your hand in her hair, fingers trembling as you combed them through the tangled strands like you’d seen him do a hundred times when she was upset. And maybe you were doing it for yourself too. Maybe it was the last piece of him you had left.

“I miss him so much,” Ellie whispered, her voice so small it made your heart physically ache.

“I know, baby girl. I know.”

The words cracked apart in your throat. Joel used to call her that. Since when things were still simple in their own complicated way.

She pulled back, just enough to look at you, her face blotchy and red, eyes rimmed with swollen skin. “I… I should’ve—”

“No,” you cut in, your voice firm despite the tears choking you. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to carry a guilt it doesn’t belong to you.”

“But I—”

“No.” You grabbed her shoulders, made sure she was really looking at you. “He loved you. You hear me? Nothing about what happened changes that.”

Her mouth wobbled, fresh tears welling up, and you knew there was more she wanted to say, but something inside you splintered then. The weight you’d been carrying, this secret pressing against your ribs, rising in your throat every night, it was too much.

And now, with her here, with the grave between you and the cold earth around you, you just… couldn’t hold it anymore.

You looked at Joel’s name craved on that stone, then shifted your gaze back to Ellie.

“Ellie,” your voice broke, rough and soft all at once. You took her hand, pressing it to your stomach, though there wasn’t anything to feel yet. Not yet.

“I’m pregnant.”

She stared. Like the words didn’t make sense at first. Like her brain had to piece them together.

And then the breath left her in a hitched, broken sound. “What?”

“I didn’t—I didn’t get to tell him,” You managed, the sob catching on your lips before you could stop it. “I was gonna—“you sobbed again, “But you know he was getting older and I was scared-“

Ellie’s hand trembled against you.

“I don’t know what to do,” you confessed, shaking your head, pressing your palm over hers. “I don’t know how to do this without him.”

Her face crumpled again, tears spilling over, and this time it wasn’t just grief. It was something softer. Something terrified and protective and bone-deep yours.

“I’ll help you,” she whispered. “I’ll—I’ll be here, okay? I’m not gonna leave you. I swear.”

You pulled her back against you, burying your face in her hair as the wind blew through the trees, rattling branches like brittle bones. And in that hollow, ruined space inside you, something fragile sparked. Not hope, not yet — but the thin, flickering thread of not being alone.

And for now, it was enough.

Ellie stayed there, curled into your side, the two of you pressed together against the cold earth like it might anchor you to the world before it slipped away entirely.

You didn’t say anything for a while. Just breathed. Just existed.

The wind whistled low through the trees, carrying with it the faintest hint of pine and cold earth, and somewhere nearby, a crow croaked out a single, harsh note. The world was still turning. It felt cruel.

Ellie shifted then, her hand still resting on your stomach, and tilted her head to look past you — at the headstone. At the name carved in stone like it could contain a man so big, so stubborn, so him.

Joel Miller.

Beloved Father.

Beloved Brother.

And to you — beloved everything.

You felt Ellie’s breath stutter against your shoulder, the faintest catch of her throat before she spoke. Her voice was rough, but there was a thread of something else in it now. Not light. Not humor, not quite. But a kind of aching tenderness you’d only ever seen her give him.

“Did you hear that, old man?” she whispered hoarsely, her fingers brushing against the grave marker like she might get a reaction. “You’re gonna be a dad again.”

The words hit the air and settled between you like a living thing.

And your chest cracked open all over again, but this time it wasn’t just pain. It was longing. It was grief. It was love so enormous it hurt to hold.

Because you will have to this alone, without him.

You let out a ragged breath, your lips trembling into a small, wrecked smile, and you leaned your head against Ellie’s.

“Yeah,” you whispered to the dirt, to the wind, to the man you’d lost. “You better stick around somehow, Miller. ‘Cause I can’t do this shit without you.”

Ellie let out a wet, broken laugh.

The two of you sat there, together, the grave in front of you and the cold world beyond it. And for the first time in seven days, the unbearable weight in your chest felt a little less sharp.

Still heavy.

Still raw.

But you weren’t alone.

And neither was he.

[acid-ixx]

mild spoilers for chapter six for my series again &. again, but i really feel the need to ramble about this, and i'd love to hear anybody's opinion on this hehe.

as i write outline chapter six (and write for chapter five), i'd like to say i couldn't wait to write the reader's face reveal in bruce's perspective. and it's not just angst, for me, this plays a very pivotal turn for the series— because bruce will spiral to insanity.

to never once see a single portrait of your second youngest child, whose presence has long been erased from the manor, not a single image, nor trace of you is sickening to the heart, even if he scours through the internet day and night for a single memoir of you, nothing— but to find your portrait in alfred's living quarters and seeing you for the first time in forever? graduating a milestone no less?

god, he's in for a ride just analyzing every aspect of your physical appearance.

the color of your eyes, the shape of your nose, the quip of your mouth, the fat in your cheeks; even the length of your lashes! god, does he brand it into the deepest parts of his mind to never forget you anymore. his pearl, his treasure.

the longer he stares, the more he notices and gazes even more, obsessive as he stands lonesome in the room with every bone in his body locking up, his eyes unable to look away from the portrait that showcases his baby child.

and there, there it is that he concludes a detail so small it's unrecognizable for someone who's seen it for his entire life; yet it's all the same triggered deranged emotions deep within him.

— you don't just share him and your mother's traits, no, your smile is also reminiscent of his mother's.

martha wayne, who'd died in his arms, laying in a pool of her blood with a bullet grazed deep inside her body. his loving mother, who caressed his face whenever he'd cry from his nightmares, who'd shown him motherly love that until now he still craves.

she died with her pearl necklace that once decorated her porcelain neck spilling to the ground and stained with crimson.

you wore pearl earrings on your graduation.

the thought alone is enough for him to just snap.

this? this is the child that he's been neglecting far too long? who shares the same, loving expression of his mother's? his child? not even a single memory could be conjured with you but fantasies now do. if your happiest moments were within the picture frame that he holds with shivering fingers at present; could your smile be any wider if you'd be with him?

how come he never once noticed? why is bruce always destined to fail left and right? why, just why is he brimming with jealousy for all the people who must've seen your smile before him, and contempt for himself that he was never there to pick you up from the police station beforehand?

bruce isn't a heckler for favoritism, but a darker part of him is motivated to take you away from wherever you are, and to never let anybody else witness his beautiful, little treasure.

he's gotham's knight, first and foremost. but he's a father, too, with goals to protect his children just like a father should.

and the things he'd do for you, his child, now? anything.

if it means he has to see that smile, then he'll turn the world upside-down.

he has to protect your smile.

[tojisun]

the lights are on

!! simon riley x afab reader; chubby reader; confidence and body issues; past bullying (not by simon and briefly mentioned); smut - minors dni // divider by @/plutism!

i projected too much of myself onto the reader so do forgive me for that. this is a milestone celebration for me, mostly, but also for you all so i hope you all would like it too <3

this is inspired by rachel wiley’s “10 honest thoughts on being loved by a skinny boy” - a slam poetry

you are told that love comes easily — that it is the budding of spring, shimmering and vibrant, and blooming oh-so tenderly. unfurling oh-so carefully, like you are melting into padded sheets and cashmere sweaters.

you are told that love comes easily — that it stands out amongst a vast ocean. that it is distinguishable; a beacon so familiar you run towards it, unafraid and unashamed. like fate or destiny; like fairytales being remade.

you are told that love comes easily, but you know they mean to people who don’t look like you; only for the girls with slim arms and robust legs, with dips in their waists and hour-glass figures, with bones pressing against their skins like carved mountains.

love comes easily to thin girls. to the girls whose loud laughter are heard as wind chimes, whose jolly isn’t sneered at or embarrassing to see, whose confidence is just is — that it isn’t an act of empowerment or a statement or a message.

so you slink back into your shadows with little laughs and curled shoulders, like maybe if you diminished your presence enough, you would be seen physically small too. petite is a word no one has used for you but how else can anyone explain the way you trim yourself into bite-sized pieces?

you aren’t the first to be chosen; not the one people fight over. when you walk into a room, the best that could happen was that no one would notice you. that you would blend into the shadows or the walls, quiet and peaceful. painfully lonely, yes, but peaceful, nevertheless.

(you still have nightmares of high school.

of boys using you for their dares, like the only thing good about you was to be the butt of the joke; like asking you out was a comedic show.

of girls and—

sometimes, they’re meaner than the boys with all their lilac and softness; you thought that at least they were a kindred soul, but so many times, during lunch, you were cornered into tears until you became full from nothing but your anguish.)

when simon first walked into your life, you knew it — whatever ‘it’ could be — was impossible.

you had already ended the tragedy before something could even begin. you saw his beauty — in a way that you cannot explain; in a way that is rugged and scarred and terrifying, almost, but beautiful, still — and knew there was no way he would fall for you, anyway.

but simon was… persistent. charming you in a way that was painfully absent of all suave but he was still so charismatic, he always left your stomach in knots. hope bloomed in your chest and you realized that maybe it needn’t be a tragedy; that it mustn’t be a joke nor a dare; that you must be—

loved.

that you are loved — just that. just as is.

.

.

simon watches as you lay down on the bed, your cheeks tingling with heat as embarrassment rises from the base of your neck, dancing past your shoulders and devouring up until even the tip of your nose thrums with feverish touch. you look away from him, feeling so shy at the intensity in his eyes. he looks at you like he is ravenous for you; like you are the only nourishment he needs, and that you have made him hungry, his gums aching with the need to sink his teeth into the soft parts of your body.

you have never been looked at like this before, and it is intoxicating. it makes you heady, breathless, lips parted open as you gasp for air—

rustling fills your ears and you perk up, getting ready to snap your bra off, only to find simon naked, bare, his cock chubbing up from underneath his bush, and you have never loved a body until his. lust coils in the tendrils of your heart, stretching into the yawning that burrows in the pit of your stomach to capture you whole.

you want him.

god, do you want him.

he falls to his knees, stalking close to where you are splayed on the bed like the offering you are that he says he will never deserve, but you stop him with a hand up and a quiet breath, and, “the lights.”

your voice trembles. shame slowly snuffs out the greed.

“can you turn them off, please?” you ask because it is a courtesy you were taught to—

‘can you bathe me in darkness so that the two of us can pretend that i am not undesirable and that your love is not a fluke?’

‘can you hide me from your eyes so your mind does not give you reason to pull away?’

‘can you reduce me into a body to fuck into, so that our pretend-love story does not end?’

your question makes simon still, his heady eyes lightening up again. recognition slips into his consciousness and he rouses up — you tell yourself that the caving in your chest isn’t a heartbreak — to reach forward.

to reach for—

you.

simon’s scarred palm falls to your stomach, planting atop the sea of stretch marks. his thumb traces their ridges, so soft and slow and intimate, and your eyes burn because why is he so cruel?

why must he touch you like you are something to revere? like you are something priceless and that he is undeserving of you? like you are, all parts, beautiful?

“won’t you let me love you like this?” is what he says instead, and he moves, desperate to meet your eyes. “can we do it with the lights on, from now on?”

all the air in your lungs is knocked out of you.

his words were quiet but they resonated so loudly, almost booming and deafening. the world doesn’t freeze nor does time slow, but there is something in that moment that makes you feel like you are at the throes of something divine. like you are finally sewn together.

you do not sob but you are so close to doing so. instead, you pull him close, trembling, and give him a kiss. he melts into it, his hands mapping the softness of your body, digging into the fat and never letting go.

he devours you like this — hot lips against your own. spit is shared, moans fall in between the tiny cracks whenever you pull away to breathe only for simon to push close again, never letting you stray alone any longer, and clingy as he fits you into him.

the first drag of his fingers into your cunt makes you gasp, your head falling back to the pillows as a mewl drips from your mouth. he pulls away, huffing, and positions himself so he can watch you. you keep your head tipped up, still so embarrassed by being exposed this way, but simon curls his fingers just right, and he strokes against something that punches a gasp out of you.

“shit—”

“like this, sweetheart?” simon croons, nuzzling his face on your rib, his cheek bumping against your boob. he pulls his fingers out, dragging with him muffled squelching noises that tickle your ears, before fucking his fingers in you again.

you whine, a drawn hiccupped sound, and claw at the sheets at the pace he adopts. it is fast, overwhelming, but still not enough. it seems like he’s spoiled you rotten, and left you needy for nothing but his cock.

“fuck me,” you whimper, arms looped around his wrists. you feel so weak from the pleasure, wrung out of orgasms with his fingers in your cunt and his palm against your clit. you flick your eyes up, meeting his gaze. “si, please?”

he lets out a snarl, his softness and need peaking into something dangerous. you find that you are not scared, instead, you are besotted — inviting him in by spreading your legs wider, showing him how wet your pussy is and that it is ready for his taking.

your face crumples at the slow slide, his cock fucking you raw like this is the first time again. like you two have more to explore, more to uncover, and you keen at the intensity of it all.

missionary has never felt this good before; simon thrusts his hips, humping the remaining inches in, and you scream — your hips snapping up, and your throat burning with the ache. simon holds you by your waist, his fingers dimpling your flesh, and fucks you with gusto.

he chases his orgasm as he melts into you. he is louder today, and more guttural with his desires. he snarls his praises, the words curling from the backs of his teeth until they drip on you like hot wax — scalding, overwhelming, and leaving you to feel all tender and raw.

“si!” you cry out, reaching forward to play with your clit. “m’close, baby. m’close!”

“yeah?” he rasps out, his balls slapping against your ass. you go dizzy, eyes rolling to the back of your skull as goosebumps rise across the expanse of your body. “do i make my baby feel good? tell me, sweetheart, go on. tell me, huh?”

he is rambling, untethered, himself, as he loses in his own swelling euphoria.

you sob, toes digging into the mattress because you are unable to properly vocalize the pleasure, your mind all razed by the way he fucks you, but your baby is asking you to do so, so you tell him, “s’good. baby, s’good! i feel so full an’ only you can fuck me good an’— an’ si, i’m gonna— i’m gonna—”

your orgasm hits you like a fever breaking; like you are feeling a sense of release that has never been felt before. you feel like you are suspended, floating, your skin buzzing with lightning. you don’t even know you are screaming, deaf to anything but the explosion of ecstatic pleasure.

your teeth rattle at the first spurt of simon’s cum, and he presses uncoordinated kisses on your lips. it makes you giggle, all sluggish now that exhaustion is weaving in, and it is then that you meet simon’s eyes.

they are so clear and vibrant, the way they only ever are under light. they crinkle in his smile, and you puff, snuggling close, feeling like you can drop to sleep with his cock still in you.

“love you si,” you murmur, your words sticking together in your drowsiness.

he presses a kiss on your temple and breathes you in. then, “i love you too, sweetheart.”

and the lights are still on.

thank you once again for the 15k, and i hope you have loved this the way i loved writing it <33

i was struck with the poetry, and the way wiley described the way she is loved. she started her performance with the lines: “i say, ‘i am fat.’ he says, ‘no, you are beautiful.’ i wonder why i cannot be both.” and i have never related to anything more. wiley then talks about how their relationship unfurls, and in ‘6’ (it is a list poetry), she says, “he tells me he loves me with the lights on,” and i sobbed.

so i wrote a fic of me, and i hope thats alright.

[mahalachives]

Part 3: Goodbye, Shadowsinger

🕊️ TW: This chapter contains mentions of suicidal ideation and an attempted act of suicide. Please read with care and prioritize your well-being.

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Genre: angst, romcom, humor, fish out of water reader, canon (ish)

Summary: Murdered after a late-night study session in the modern world, you awaken in Prythian—still yourself, but with Fae features and the infamous title of Beron’s cold-hearted and ruthless daughter.

Then, fate snaps the mating bond into place between you and the shadowsinger, Azriel—who rejects it so fiercely, even the magic recoils.

You died a healer. You woke up a villain. Now fate’s mated you to who wants nothing to do with either—you’ll prove them all wrong, one heartbeat at a time.

Between Two Fires - Masterlist

You woke up feeling surprisingly refreshed, as if the essence of autumn itself had infused your borrowed bones.

Sunlight streamed through amber-stained glass, painting warm patterns across the silk sheets that felt too soft, too decadent against your skin.

After two days of recovery from the arrow wound, your strength had fully returned—one benefit of this immortal body with its remarkable healing abilities.

A sharp knock on your door preceded Eris's entrance.

He swept in with predatory grace, amber eyes assessing you with that calculating precision that never softened. His auburn hair caught the morning light, gleaming like freshly minted copper.

"Ah, you're finally up," he remarked, leaning against the bedpost with deceptive casualness. "Good. I was beginning to think you might sleep through the century."

"Would that have been so terrible?" you asked with a small smile. "One less pyromaniac in the family to worry about."

A flicker of surprise crossed his features—so swift you might have imagined it. "Your brush with death has certainly improved your sense of humor. Though I'm not entirely convinced that's a good thing."

You sat up straighter, noting how he tracked the movement, ever watchful for weakness. "Are you here to check if I'm still alive or just to criticize my newfound optimism?"

"Both," he admitted with a small smirk. "And to inform you that I'm leaving for the Dawn Court within the hour. Diplomatic matters that Father insists can't wait."

"How thrilling for you," you replied. "A whole court of morning people. Your worst nightmare."

Eris actually chuckled, the sound rusty as if rarely used. "Indeed. Try not to burn down the castle while I'm gone. And please—" his expression grew serious, shadows haunting his eyes, "—don't do anything... reckless. Yesterday's incident with the Night Court has everyone on edge."

Your heart skipped. Eris gone. The perfect opportunity.

"I'll be on my absolute best behavior," you promised, unable to keep a grin from spreading across your face.

Eris's eyes narrowed slightly. "That expression doesn't inspire confidence."

"What expression?" You arranged your features into a mask of innocence that felt foreign on this face. "This is just my face."

"No, your face typically looks like you're contemplating which servant to set on fire next. This—" he gestured vaguely at your smile, "—is new and concerning."

You laughed, the sound startling both of you with its genuine mirth. "Go to your dawn gathering, brother. I promise the castle will still be standing when you return."

Eris studied you for another long moment, his amber eyes seeming to peer directly into your soul. Then he nodded once, a dismissive gesture belied by the faint concern lingering in his gaze. "Rest. Recover. Try to remember that you're the Lady of Autumn, not whatever you were babbling about during your fever."

"Of course," you agreed easily.

Too easily, apparently, because Eris's frown deepened.

"Goodbye, sister," he said finally. "Try not to cause an incident for at least a week."

After he left, you burst from the bed with boundless energy, startling poor Briar as she entered with your breakfast tray.

"My lady!" she gasped as several pastries tumbled to the floor, scattering flaky crumbs across the priceless carpet. "You shouldn't be up yet!"

"Nonsense!" you declared, spinning in a circle that sent your nightgown billowing around your legs. "I feel magnificent! Like I could fly! Or swim! Or—or—something equally improbable!"

Briar stared at you as if you'd grown a second head. "Swim? You once threatened to disembowel a gardener for suggesting we install a reflection pool."

"Did I?" You laughed. "Well, people change! Today, I want to embrace new experiences."

"While you're... recovering from a nearly fatal arrow wound?" Briar asked skeptically, nervously tucking a strand of copper-brown hair behind her ear.

"Exactly!" You clapped your hands together. "Nothing like almost dying to make you appreciate life's possibilities. Now, help me dress. Something practical."

Briar reluctantly assisted you into a simple outfit of fitted leathers and a flowing tunic in deep burgundy. As she worked, you couldn't stop grinning, planning your escape in your mind.

Eris was gone. The perfect time to execute your plan.

"My lady, you're..." Briar hesitated, her fingers stilling on the laces of your boots.

"Yes?" you prompted, twirling to face her.

"Humming," she finished, looking utterly bewildered. "And bouncing. Like a... like a..."

"Like a perfectly normal person enjoying a perfectly beautiful day?" you suggested brightly.

"Like someone who's either lost their mind or been replaced by an imposter," Briar muttered under her breath.

You winked at her. "Maybe both!"

Briar's eyes widened in alarm, and you laughed again, heading for the door. "I'm joking, Briar! Mostly. See you later! Or not. Who knows?"

You practically skipped through the castle corridors, drawing astonished stares from servants and guards alike.

The Lady of Autumn, known for her casual cruelty and perpetual sneer, bouncing through the halls with a smile that threatened to split her face in two.

By the time you reached the gardens, a small crowd of servants had found excuses to work nearby, stealing fascinated glances as you paced back and forth, muttering to yourself.

"I need to get home," you whispered, tapping your fingers against your thigh. "But how?"

You contemplated your options, oblivious to your growing audience.

"I could jump from the castle tower," you mused aloud, "but what if it just breaks every bone in this body without sending me back? Too risky."

A gardener nearly fell from his ladder, clutching a branch to stay upright.

"Poison?" you considered, shaking your head. "No, too slow. And knowing my luck, some healer would find an antidote before it worked."

Two maids exchanged alarmed glances.

"Fire?" You laughed softly. "Ironic, but too painful. Besides, someone would definitely notice if I set myself ablaze in the middle of the Autumn Court."

A guard coughed so violently that he had to remove his helmet.

"A blade?" You frowned, considering. "Quick, but messy. And I'd probably just end up wounded again with more hovering healers."

The head gardener was quietly ushering younger staff away from your vicinity.

"What I need," you declared to the rosebush in front of you, "is something guaranteed fatal but relatively peaceful. Something no one can interrupt."

Your eyes lit up suddenly.

"Water! Drowning!" The idea settled in your bones with perfect certainty. "Quick, effective, minimal pain... relatively speaking. And these fire-loving Fae would never think to look for me near water."

You spun around suddenly, catching at least seven servants pretending not to watch you. They all immediately became intensely interested in their tasks—polishing perfectly clean statues, pruning already immaculate hedges, and in one case, vigorously sweeping a patch of grass.

"You!" You pointed at a young female servant who had the misfortune of making eye contact. "Come here."

She approached cautiously, as one might approach a beautiful but notoriously bad-tempered wildcat. Her freckled face was pale with apprehension, hands twisting nervously in her apron. "Y-yes, my lady?"

"Is there a lake nearby? Preferably beyond Autumn Court borders, secluded, not frequently visited?"

The servant blinked rapidly. "A... lake, my lady?"

"Yes, a lake. Big hole in the ground filled with water?"

"Of course, my lady," she stammered. "There's the Azure Pool, about five miles beyond the western border. It's quite isolated. The water is said to have unusual properties—healing for some, visions for others."

Perfect. A magical lake. That had to increase your chances of successful inter-world transportation.

"Excellent!" you exclaimed, causing the servant to jump. "How would one get there?"

"Well..." the servant hesitated, clearly trying to determine if this was some sort of test. "You could winnow, my lady, or have one of the guards escort you—"

"Winnow!" you repeated excitedly. "Yes! Brilliant! How exactly does one do that?"

The servant's jaw dropped. "You... don't know how to winnow, my lady?"

"Of course I know," you scoffed, then leaned closer. "But explain it anyway. For clarity."

"It's... it's like folding space around yourself," the servant said slowly, still looking utterly confused. "You visualize where you want to go, gather your power, and sort of... push through reality?"

"Push through reality," you repeated thoughtfully. "Simple enough. Just visualize and... push."

"My lady, perhaps a guard escort would be—"

"Nonsense!" you declared. "I'm a High Fae of the Autumn Court! Winnowing is in my blood. Probably. How hard can it be?"

The servant's expression suggested she thought it could be very hard indeed, especially for someone who didn't even know the basics.

"Thank you for your assistance," you said, already turning away. "You've been most helpful."

"My lady," the servant called hesitantly, "may I ask why you need to find this lake?"

You turned back with a brilliant smile. "Swimming lessons!"

"But... you hate water," she said, then immediately looked like she regretted speaking.

"Do I?" you asked cheerfully. "Well, time for a change! Growth! Personal development! All that nonsense."

Behind you, several servants exchanged alarmed glances. One quietly made the sign to ward off madness.

"What a wonderful day to be alive," you announced to no one in particular. "For now, anyway!"

With that enigmatic statement, you strode purposefully toward the castle gates, leaving a wake of bewildered servants behind you. One elderly gardener crossed himself and muttered something about the end times.

Standing at the edge of the Autumn Court's formal boundaries, marked by a line of trees with leaves that burned perpetual gold, you gathered your courage.

Winnowing. How hard could it be, really?

You closed your eyes, picturing the Azure Pool as the servant had described it—clear blue-green water, isolated, beyond the western border. You gathered what you assumed was magic, feeling it rise within you like liquid fire coursing through your veins.

"Azure Pool," you whispered. "Take me to the Azure Pool. Please?"

Nothing happened.

You frowned, concentrating harder. "Azure Pool! Western border! Big magical lake! Come on!"

Still nothing.

"Fine," you muttered. "Be that way."

You tried a different approach, extending your awareness outward, feeling for the boundary between here and... somewhere else. There—a thin spot in reality, a place where the world seemed to fold in on itself. You pushed toward it with your mind, imagining yourself slipping through.

The world dissolved around you with a nauseating lurch.

Darkness engulfed you, a crushing pressure from all sides. For one terrifying moment, you were nowhere and everywhere, stretched impossibly thin across reality itself.

Then, with a jolt that knocked the air from your lungs, you rematerialized—tumbling forward onto soft grass. You lay there for a moment, gasping, the world spinning around you.

"That," you announced to the empty air, "was horrible. Zero out of ten. Would not recommend."

When your head finally stopped spinning, you pushed yourself up and looked around.

The Azure Pool lived up to its name.

Nestled in a clearing surrounded by ancient trees, the water glowed with an impossible blue-green luminescence that pulsed gently like a heartbeat. The surface was mirror-smooth, reflecting the cloud-dappled sky above. It seemed to call to you, welcoming you home.

Not this home. Your real home.

"Perfect," you whispered, approaching the edge.

No one in sight. No witnesses.

Just you and a magical lake that would hopefully send you back to your world.

You shrugged off your outer tunic, leaving only the fitted leathers underneath. Less to drag you down. The crisp autumn air raised goosebumps across your exposed skin, but you barely registered the chill. Your focus narrowed to the glowing water before you, its ethereal light casting strange patterns across your face.

Standing at the edge, you hesitated.

The mating bond, that golden thread connecting you to Azriel, pulled taut in your chest like a physical restraint. It seemed to know your intentions, throbbing with an almost sentient awareness that made your breath catch.

"Okay," you muttered, steeling yourself. "Just walk in, breathe in the water, and wake up in a hospital bed. Simple."

But was it simple? This world, for all its dangers and complications, had an undeniable beauty. Magic thrummed in the very air you breathed, in the trees that whispered secrets to the wind, in the blood that coursed through this borrowed body. A part of you recognized the wonder of it all, the chance to experience something humans only dreamed about.

The bond tugged sharply, as if in agreement, sending a lance of pain through your chest. Your hand flew up, pressing against your sternum.

"Stop it," you whispered to the invisible tether. "I don't belong here."

But did you? The mating bond wouldn't have formed unless there was... something.

Some connection, some compatibility between your soul and Azriel's. The thought was as terrifying as it was exhilarating.

You took one step toward the water—then froze as an image flashed in your mind. Hazel eyes flecked with gold. Shadows that reached for you despite their master's will.

Azriel.

The mating bond thrummed more intensely, responding to even the thought of him. You felt his rejection anew, the cold dismissal, the formality that cut deeper than open hostility could have. But beneath that, you'd glimpsed something else—a flicker of recognition when your tears fell, a moment of genuine pain in those beautiful, ancient eyes.

The bond demanded closure. Even if he hated you. Even if he'd rejected you in front of everyone. You couldn't just disappear without saying goodbye.

"Fine," you sighed, the sound heavy with resignation. "One quick, awkward goodbye to the shadowsinger who despises me, then back here for drowning. Great plan."

You closed your eyes again, but instead of visualizing a place, you focused on the golden thread of the mating bond. It pulled steadily northward, toward the Night Court, toward Azriel. You gathered your power again (more carefully this time, having learned from your first disastrous attempt) and let the bond guide you.

The world dissolved once more.

This time, the darkness felt less crushing, as if the bond was protecting you from the worst of the between-space.

You rematerialized with a softer landing, though still less than graceful. Your knees hit packed earth, and you pitched forward onto your hands. The ground beneath your palms was hard-packed and cold, the scent of pine and steel and male sweat filling your nostrils.

"Halt!" a deep voice commanded.

You looked up to find yourself surrounded by winged warriors, all with weapons drawn.

Illyrians, their massive battle-wings flared in threatening displays. The sound of those wings cutting through air raised the hair on your arms—a prehistoric, predatory sound that spoke to the most primitive parts of your brain. At their center stood Cassian, the commander you'd met during yesterday's disastrous dinner.

"Oh, hello again," you said brightly, pushing yourself up and dusting off your leathers. "Lovely day, isn't it? So sunny. Really brings out the threatening scowls on all your faces."

Cassian stared at you in disbelief. "You just winnowed to the edge of an Illyrian war-camp. Alone. Without warning or permission."

"Did I?" You glanced around. "Huh. I was aiming for 'wherever Azriel is.' The mating bond was supposed to guide me. Magical GPS and all that."

"Magical... what?" Cassian's brow furrowed.

"Never mind," you said, waving dismissively. "Is Azriel here? I need to speak with him."

Cassian's expression hardened. "He has no interest in speaking with you."

"I know," you sighed. "He hates me. But this is important."

"Important enough to risk starting another war?" Cassian asked coldly.

The bond tightened in your chest, a physical pain that radiated outward, stealing your breath. Your hand pressed against it instinctively, and something in your expression must have changed, because Cassian's eyes narrowed in recognition.

"I'm not here for war," you protested, your voice softening, all pretense falling away. "I just need to say goodbye."

"Goodbye?" Cassian's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Going somewhere?"

"Far, far away," you confirmed quietly. "Never to return. Which should make everyone happy, especially Azriel. So really, letting me see him is a win-win."

Cassian crossed his arms. "And I should trust you because...?"

"Please," you said softly, all bravado evaporating like morning mist. Your voice cracked on the word, betraying the desperation beneath your carefully constructed facade. "Five minutes. That's all I ask. Then I'll leave and never bother any of you again."

Your eyes, suddenly bright with unshed tears, met his. "I know I don't deserve it. I know what she—what I did to him was unforgivable. But I can't leave without saying goodbye. The bond won't let me."

You placed your hand over your heart, where the golden thread pulsed painfully with each heartbeat. "It hurts," you added, the simple admission costing you more than you cared to admit.

Something in your face—the naked vulnerability, perhaps, or the quiet desperation—made Cassian's expression soften fractionally. The scent of him shifted slightly, the aggressive edge giving way to cautious curiosity.

"You really are different," he said finally.

"So I've been told," you replied, trying for a smile that wobbled at the edges. "Is that a yes?"

Cassian sighed deeply, running a hand through his dark hair. "If you so much as flicker a flame in his direction, I'll drop you from a height that even High Fae can't survive. Clear?"

"Crystal," you agreed, relief flooding through you. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," Cassian grumbled, gesturing for the other Illyrians to stand down. "Az is going to kill me for this."

He led you through the camp, winged warriors stopping their training to stare as you passed. The ground was hard-packed beneath your boots, worn smooth by centuries of Illyrian feet.

The air was crisp and cold, carrying the metallic scent of weapons and the earthy musk of male sweat. Fires burned in stone pits, the smoke carrying scents of cooking meat and pine. Everything about this place was wild, primal—the same way the warriors themselves were, with their predatory grace and ancient eyes.

The mating bond pulled more insistently with each step, the golden thread glowing brighter in your mind's eye, leading you unerringly toward Azriel. It thrummed between your ribs, a vibrating tension that grew tighter, more urgent as you approached.

"So," you said nervously as you walked, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your tunic, "how's life in the Night Court? Pleasant? Regular happiness meetings?"

Cassian shot you a sideways glance. "Are you always this chatty now, or is it just nerves?"

"Definitely nerves," you admitted quietly. "I'm not exactly good at goodbyes."

Your voice caught on the word, and the bond spasmed painfully in response. You suppressed a wince, but Cassian's sharp eyes missed nothing.

"Where exactly are you going that necessitates dramatic border-crossing farewells?" Cassian asked carefully.

"Home," you said simply. "Where I belong."

"And where is that?" he pressed.

"Would you believe... another world entirely?" Your voice was barely above a whisper.

Cassian studied your face for a long moment. "Actually, after yesterday's display, I might." He frowned slightly. "Does Az know about this... plan of yours?"

"No," you admitted. "And I'd prefer to keep it that way."

"Hmm," was all Cassian said as you entered a large clearing.

The training field opened up before you, a vast area of packed earth surrounded by training equipment and weapons racks. Illyrian warriors moved through drills in small groups, their wings creating gusts of wind with each powerful stroke. The sound was like distant thunder, a rhythmic percussion that vibrated in your chest.

And there, at the far end, stood Azriel.

Even from this distance, the sight of him made your heart stutter painfully in your chest. The shadowsinger moved with lethal grace as he demonstrated a complex blade maneuver to a group of young warriors. Shadows danced around him like living extensions of his body, coiling and stretching in hypnotic patterns. His power was a tangible thing, a cold pressure against your skin that raised goosebumps along your arms.

Beside him stood a slender female with golden-brown hair. She wore a simple dress the color of spring leaves, and smiled up at Azriel as he spoke. There was an easy comfort between them, a gentle familiarity that made your chest ache strangely. The scent of wildflowers surrounded her even at this distance, delicate and sweet amidst the harsher smells of the camp.

"That's Elain," Cassian murmured, noticing your gaze. "Feyre's sister."

"They look... close," you managed, hating the hint of jealousy that colored your voice. The mating bond twisted sharply in protest, as if insulted by the mere suggestion of a connection between Azriel and another female.

"They are," Cassian confirmed bluntly. "Az has been half in love with her for years."

The bond twisted again, the pain so intense it nearly doubled you over. You bit your lip hard to keep from crying out, the taste of copper flooding your mouth. Which was ridiculous—you had no claim on Azriel, no right to feel possessive. You didn't even belong in this world.

Before Cassian could say anything else, Azriel's head snapped up.

His shadows stilled completely, then surged forward like a tide, stretching toward you before he reined them back with visible effort. His eyes—those beautiful hazel eyes with flecks of gold—locked with yours across the training field, and the mating bond between you hummed to life, pulling taut and vibrant.

The pain vanished instantly, replaced by an awareness so intense it made you gasp. Every sense heightened, every nerve ending suddenly, painfully alive. His scent reached you even across the distance—night-chilled stone and cedar and male musk. The world narrowed to him alone, everything else fading into insignificance.

"He knows I'm here," you murmured, suddenly feeling small and uncertain.

Azriel said something to the warriors, then to Elain, who glanced curiously in your direction. He began walking toward you with measured steps, his face a mask of careful neutrality. His wings were folded tightly against his back, but shadows swirled around him in agitated patterns, betraying the emotion he refused to show.

Your palms grew damp with nervous sweat. Your heart raced in your chest, partly from the bond's insistent pull, partly from the fear of facing him after everything that had happened. Your mouth went dry, and you swallowed convulsively, trying to prepare yourself for his rejection.

When he reached you, he stopped at a careful distance, shadows swirling restlessly around him. He inclined his head slightly—a gesture of formal acknowledgment, nothing more. The scent of him was stronger now, wrapping around you like an invisible embrace that his body refused to give.

"My Lady," he said, his deep voice coolly professional. "This is unexpected."

Up close, you could see faint scars on his face, subtle markers of a life lived in violence. His wings were even more impressive than you remembered, powerful spans of membranous darkness that shifted slightly as he moved.

And on his chest—visible above the neckline of his training clothes—the edge of a scar that must have come from the burning your body's previous inhabitant had inflicted. The sight of it made your stomach clench with guilt and shame, though logically you knew you weren't responsible.

"I came to say goodbye," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Your fingers twisted nervously in front of you, a gesture of vulnerability that felt utterly foreign to this body accustomed to displays of power.

For a fraction of a second, something flickered in his eyes—surprise, perhaps, or disbelief—before it was hidden again behind walls of ice. His shadows, however, betrayed him, reaching toward you before he pulled them back with visible effort. The temperature around you dropped several degrees, as if his shadows absorbed the very heat from the air.

"I see," he said neutrally. "Is there a reason the Lady of the Autumn Court felt it necessary to cross territories for such a purpose?"

The formal way he referred to you—not by name, but by title—stung worse than outright hostility might have. It was as if you were a stranger, a political entity rather than a person. The bond between you spasmed painfully, and you had to fight to keep your expression neutral.

"The mating bond," you explained, your voice trembling slightly as you forced yourself to meet his gaze. "I couldn't... I couldn't leave without seeing you one last time."

His shadows coiled tighter, writhing with what looked almost like agitation. Several of them formed sharp, jagged shapes before smoothing out again, as if reflecting some inner conflict he refused to acknowledge.

"The bond is irrelevant," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "As I made clear yesterday. Is there anything else?"

The dismissal was so complete, so utterly final, that tears welled in your eyes unbidden. You blinked rapidly, but it was too late—they spilled over, tracking silently down your cheeks. The salt of them burned against your cold skin, their warmth a stark contrast to the ice in his eyes.

Something flashed in Azriel's eyes—not the cold indifference from before, but something almost like pain. A muscle in his jaw ticked, and his hands curled into fists at his sides. His shadows reached for you again, stretching toward your tears as if to wipe them away before he harshly yanked them back.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, hastily wiping at your face. "I didn't mean to cry. I just... I wanted to apologize. For everything—"

"I have duties to attend to," he said abruptly, gesturing toward the training field where Elain waited, watching your interaction with open curiosity. "Cassian will escort you back to the border."

As if summoned by his name, Cassian stepped forward. "Time to go." he said.

You nodded, throat too tight for words. With one last look at Azriel—standing remote and unreachable despite being only feet away—you turned to follow Cassian.

You had taken only a few steps when Azriel's voice stopped you.

"Wait."

You glanced back, hope fluttering traitorously in your chest. The bond between you pulled painfully tight, as if trying to physically draw you back to him.

His face remained expressionless, but his shadows reached toward you, stretching across the distance between you. "May the Cauldron guide your path," he said formally, the traditional Fae farewell for travelers.

Not a declaration of feeling. Not even an acknowledgment of the bond. Just empty words, proper protocol. And yet... his eyes held yours a moment longer than necessary, something unreadable flickering in their hazel depths.

"Thank you," you whispered, a fresh tear slipping down your cheek. "Goodbye, Azriel."

This time, he didn't watch you leave. He turned and walked back to the training field without another glance, rejoining Elain as if the encounter had never happened. Only his shadows lingered, stretching toward you until distance finally severed the connection.

As soon as you were out of Azriel's sight, something inside you shattered. A sob tore from your throat, raw and unfiltered. Then another. And another, until you were gasping for breath, tears streaming unchecked down your face.

You stumbled, nearly falling as your legs threatened to give out beneath the weight of your grief. The mating bond ached like an open wound in your chest, every heartbeat sending fresh pain radiating through your body. It was a physical agony, as if someone had reached into your ribcage and was slowly, methodically shredding your heart.

"Whoa, whoa," Cassian said, catching your elbow to steady you. His hand was warm, solid, an anchor in the storm of your emotions. "Breathe, just breathe."

But you couldn't stop. The sobs came harder, your shoulders shaking with their force. You covered your face with your hands, but it did nothing to stem the flow of tears that slipped between your fingers and dripped onto the forest floor. Each breath was a struggle, catching painfully in your throat.

"I'm s-sorry," you choked out between sobs. "I can't—I can't stop."

Cassian looked utterly bewildered, his wings shifting uncomfortably behind him. The sound of them rustling was like agitated whispers. His expression was almost comical—the mighty Illyrian warrior, commander of the Night Court armies, completely undone by one sobbing female.

"It's... um... it's okay?" he tried, awkwardly patting your back. "Just... let it out?"

Your breath hitched as you tried to control yourself. "I'm sorry—this is so embarrassing—"

"Don't apologize," Cassian said gruffly. "The bond rejection... it's brutal. I've seen it before."

You wiped your eyes with your sleeve, which did absolutely nothing as fresh tears immediately took their place. Your chest heaving with each ragged breath, your entire body trembling. "It's not just that," you said, your voice breaking. "It's everything. This world, this body, this life that isn't mine. And now him—the one person who could have maybe..." You couldn't finish the thought as another sob overtook you.

Cassian sighed deeply, then did something unexpected. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket—surprisingly delicate for a battle-hardened warrior—and offered it to you.

"Here," he said. "Nesta makes me carry these. Says it's civilized."

The unexpected kindness only made you cry harder. You took the handkerchief with trembling fingers, trying and failing to dry your eyes. The delicate fabric was soft against your skin, smelling faintly of cedar and something distinctly female—Nesta's scent, you presumed.

"I'm getting tears all over your nice handkerchief," you said miserably.

To your surprise, Cassian chuckled. "I've had worse things on me. Much worse."

The mental image that conjured made you laugh through your tears—a wet, hiccuping sound that somehow made Cassian's shoulders relax. The scent of his relief was palpable, a subtle shift in his usual male musk.

"There we go," he said, relief evident in his voice. "Laughing and crying at the same time. Very efficient."

You hiccuped again, your breath coming in shuddering gasps as you tried to regain control. "I'm a m-mess."

"Yeah," Cassian agreed bluntly, but his eyes were kind. "But it's actually kind of... cute."

"Cute?" you repeated incredulously, knowing your face must be blotchy and swollen, your eyes red-rimmed. You could taste salt on your lips, feel the sticky tracks of tears drying on your cheeks.

"In a pathetic, helpless animal sort of way," he clarified with a grin. "Like a half-drowned kitten."

Despite everything, you found yourself laughing again—a watery, broken sound, but genuine. "You're terrible at comforting people."

"So I've been told," Cassian admitted cheerfully. "Repeatedly. By everyone I know."

You wiped your eyes again, breathing deeply to try to calm yourself. But the tears kept coming,

You wiped your eyes again, breathing deeply to try to calm yourself. But the tears kept coming, slower now but steady, as if your body was determined to purge every drop of grief it contained.

"Sorry," you murmured. "I can't seem to stop."

"It's the bond," Cassian explained, his voice softening. "When it's rejected... your body literally grieves."

"It hurts," you whispered, pressing a hand to your chest where the golden thread seemed to pulse with every beat of your breaking heart. The pain had a texture to it—jagged edges that tore at your insides with each breath, each heartbeat. "Like something's being torn out of me."

Cassian nodded, understanding in his eyes. "That's why most Fae don't reject the bond, even when they'd rather not accept it right away. The cost is... significant."

You hadn't realized Azriel would be feeling this too—this tearing, ripping sensation in his chest. The thought made fresh tears spill down your cheeks.

"Does he feel it too?" you asked, your voice small.

Cassian hesitated, then nodded. "Yes. Though he has centuries of practice hiding pain."

The two of you walked in silence for a while, your ragged breathing and occasional hiccuping sobs the only sounds. The forest around you deepened, tree limbs creating patterns of dappled shadow across the path. The scent of pine and earth surrounded you, grounding you in this moment, this world, even as you planned your escape from it.

You were vaguely aware of how absurd this must look—the Lady of Autumn Court, sobbing like a child while being escorted by the Night Court's general.

When you reached the border, marked by sentinel stones carved with runes, Cassian stopped. The stones hummed with ancient magic, the boundary between territories tangible as a change in pressure against your skin. The air itself felt different here—caught between autumn's golden warmth and night's cool embrace.

"This is as far as I go," he said. "Can you winnow back safely?"

"I'll manage," you assured him, though in truth you felt exhausted. The emotional toll of the encounter with Azriel had drained you as much as the winnowing itself. Your body felt hollow, wrung out, as if you'd run for miles.

You tried to hand back the handkerchief, now thoroughly soaked with tears.

"Keep it," Cassian said, grimacing slightly. "Consider it a souvenir of your visit to the Night Court."

"How thoughtful," you replied, managing a wobbly smile.

Cassian's expression grew serious. "Whatever you're planning... be careful."

"I will," you lied.

He studied your tear-stained face for a moment longer. "For what it's worth, I think he's making a mistake."

The unexpected words made your breath catch. "Why?"

"Because you're not who you were," Cassian said simply. "And bonds don't make mistakes. The Cauldron knows something he doesn't."

Fresh tears welled in your eyes. "Thank you, Cassian."

He shrugged, clearly uncomfortable with the emotion of the moment. "Don't mention it. Seriously, don't. I have a reputation to maintain."

With one final, awkward pat on your shoulder, Cassian turned and walked back toward the camp, his wings shifting restlessly against his back. The sound of them faded gradually, until only the whisper of the forest remained.

You stood at the border for a long moment, looking back at the Night Court territory—at the space where Azriel had stood, cold and remote and unreachable. The mating bond tugged painfully in your chest, urging you to return, to try again, to make him understand. Each pull was a physical sensation, like a hook embedded in your heart, drawing you back toward him.

But there was nothing more to say. He had made his feelings perfectly clear.

"Goodbye," you whispered one last time, though there was no one to hear it. The word tasted like ash on your tongue, final and irrevocable.

Then, gathering what remained of your strength, you focused on your destination—the Azure Pool.

The image was clearer now that you'd seen it, and the bond's pull had faded to a dull, persistent ache, making it easier to concentrate. You closed your eyes, visualizing the glowing water, the ancient trees, the isolation that would allow you to complete your journey home undisturbed.

You pushed through the fabric of reality, and the world dissolved around you once more. The darkness enveloped you, but this time it felt almost comforting, a temporary oblivion that numbed the pain in your chest. For one blissful moment, you were nowhere, nothing—just consciousness suspended between worlds.

Then, with a jolt that sent you to your knees, you rematerialized at the edge of the glowing pool.

You stumbled forward, the last of your strength draining away with the effort of winnowing. Fresh tears immediately welled, spilling down your already salt-stained cheeks. Your eyes burned, swollen and red-rimmed from crying. Your face felt hot and puffy, your breath still coming in those little hiccuping gasps that remained after a long bout of sobbing.

Looking down at your reflection in the still water, you barely recognized yourself. Your face was flushed and blotchy, eyes so puffy they appeared half their normal size, nose reddened, lips trembling with each unsteady breath.

The heartbreak was a physical pain now, radiating from your chest through your entire body.

Each breath hurt.

Each heartbeat sent fresh agony through the bond that stretched impossibly thin between you and Azriel. You pressed your hand to your sternum, as if you could somehow soothe the golden thread that seemed to be tearing itself apart inside you.

The water before you glowed with an ethereal blue-green light that pulsed like a heartbeat. It was uncannily alive, responding to your presence with subtle shifts in its luminescence. A gentle mist rose from its surface, carrying a scent that was both alien and strangely familiar—like the antiseptic of a hospital mixed with the mineral tang of magic.

"It's time," you whispered to yourself, your voice hoarse from crying. "Time to go home."

But even as you thought the words, doubt crept in.

You took a deep breath and stepped forward, the cool water lapping around your ankles. The sensation was strange—warmer than it should be, almost sentient in the way it curled around your skin. Another step, and it reached your knees, soaking through your leathers to caress your thighs with uncanny gentleness.

As you waded deeper, memories flashed through your mind—your childhood home, your first day of nursing school, the smell of antiseptic and sound of heart monitors.

Real memories, from your real life. The life you were returning to.

But other memories came too—Briar's surprised laughter, Eris's reluctant amusement, Cassian's awkward comfort. Connections formed in this strange world that somehow felt significant, as if they had always been a part of you, waiting to be discovered.

And Azriel.

His face when you cried—that brief moment when his mask had slipped, revealing something almost like pain. The way his shadows had reached for you, as if they recognized something in you that he refused to acknowledge. The flash of vulnerability in his eyes that contradicted every cold word from his lips.

The bond between you spasmed violently, as if sensing your intentions. The pain doubled you over, forcing a gasp from your lungs. It was fighting you, this golden thread, with everything it had.

"Please," you whispered, tears mingling with the glowing water. "Please just let me go."

The water reached your chest now, each breath slightly more difficult than the last. Just a few more steps, and you'd be fully submerged. One final breath, and then—home.

But was it that simple?

The pain in your chest suggested otherwise. The bond wasn't just stretching anymore—it was actively resisting, pulling back with a strength that surprised you. It didn't want to be severed. It was fighting for its survival, for your survival, with everything it had.

You closed your eyes, preparing for the plunge.

The memory of Azriel's face when you cried flashed in your mind—that brief moment when his mask had slipped, revealing something almost like pain. The way his shadows had reached for you when he thought you wouldn't notice. The flicker of recognition in his eyes when he admitted he knew you were different.

Strangely, that made it both harder and easier. Harder to leave what might have been. Easier to escape the pain of rejection.

"I'm sorry," you whispered to no one in particular. "But I have to go home."

With one final, deep breath, you plunged beneath the surface, letting the glowing waters close over your head.

The cold shocked your system, but you forced yourself to remain under, to release that precious breath and let the water in. The moment the water entered your mouth, time seemed to slow. You could feel each individual droplet as it passed your lips, slid down your throat, entered your lungs. It burned—not with the fire you expected, but with a cold so intense it might as well have been flame.

Pain blossomed in your chest, sharp and insistent, as your lungs fought against your mind's determination. Your body rebelled, instinct overriding intention as your limbs thrashed involuntarily. Your lungs spasmed, trying desperately to expel the foreign liquid. White spots danced across your vision as oxygen deprivation set in.

The mating bond flared to life with sudden, desperate intensity.

The golden thread burned like a live wire in your chest, pulsing with frantic energy. It was fighting harder now, clinging to your soul with everything it had.

Don't go, it seemed to whisper, though you knew it couldn't really speak. Stay. Belong. Live.

Darkness crept in from the edges of your vision, the glowing blue waters fading to gray, then black. Your body's struggles weakened, your limbs growing heavy, unresponsive. Your mind began to drift, consciousness slipping away like sand through fingers.

The last thing you felt was the mating bond, stretching painfully thin as consciousness slipped away. It was the final thread connecting you to that world, to that life, to him.

As it began to snap, one precious strand at a time, you felt an unexpected grief.

Not just for what was, but for what might have been.

Then nothing.

Author’s Note:

Thank you for diving headfirst into the angst ocean with me. I promise, there's a lifeboat coming... eventually. Until then: hold onto your feels, hydrate, and maybe scream into a pillow. You're doing amazing. 💔✨

Taglist: @circe143 @lunarxcity @willowpains @messageforthesmallestman @lreadsstuff @evye47 @lovely-susie @moonfawnx @tele86 @moonlitlavenders @darkbloodsly @ees-chaotic-brain @smol-grandpa

If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment down below ❤️

[jeonginsleftcheek]

In the absence of light, darkness prevails

pairing: sylph!hyunjin x afab!reader x dark!fairy!felix

genre: smut, angst, fantasy au

word count: 13.1k

warnings: kidnapping, use of magic, mind control, fighting, blood and injuries, coercion, possessiveness, light gore, death, violence

nsfw warnings: multiple sex scenes, unprotected sex, spanking, fingering, creampies, breeding kink, bulge kink, oral (m and f receiving), multiple partners, dom/sub dynamics, dom!hyunjin, dom!felix and sub!reader, monster cocks lol

a/n: my first spooktober fic! accidentally made it long whoops. i researched about fae folk and added my own things to the lore so i hope you enjoy this one🩷

~ divider by @cafekitsune

~ Masterlist

You've always loved spending time in the forest, ever since you were little, you would explore new paths in the safety of your parents companionship and now that you're older you like to think you know the forest like you know the back of your hand.

You loved spending quiet time alone with nature, often you'd bring a book, a beverage and snacks, to enjoy a little picnic on your own.

Sometimes, you would sketch and draw the trees and creatures you saw, enjoying the meditative state you'd fall in.

But as calming as it was, you couldn't help but be a little bit paranoid every time you sat in the same spot for too long.

A weird sound in the distance, a snap of a twig behind your back, a rustle of wind in the leaves.

It would make your skin crawl, as you turn and survey the place. But there's nothing ever there.

It's all in your imagination.

At least that's what you usually tell yourself any time you feel like there are eyes on you.

Unfortunately for you, reality is much more closer to your worst nightmares.

It's night time, the almost complete darkness envelops your frame, a heavy feeling sinking you down as your legs lead you towards something you cannot fathom.

Moonlight seeps faintly through the trees, giving enough light for you not to trip and break your bones on the way to your ruin.

You can hear a deep soothing voice calling to you from the distance but you cannot understand it; all you know is that it sounds beautiful and you have to find the source of it.

You don't even blink as you practically glide through the forest, the leaves crunching beneath your feet and twigs snapping under the pressure of your hurried steps.

Before you can find the source of the alluring voice, a strong wind picks up seemingly out of nowhere.

The coldness of it snaps you out of your daze and you can no longer hear the dark voice calling to you.

The wind brings forth black clouds, preparing a thunderstorm and as you look around after finally blinking and somewhat coming to your senses, you realize that you have no idea where you are.

You've never been in this part of the forest, and you also quickly realize that you don't have your phone on you or even your jacket, you've walked out of your house in your nightwear, somehow having the thought of at least putting your sneakers on.

Panic quickly seeps in as you tremble from the cold wind howling through the branches, swirling the leaves all around you.

Fear settles in your bones as your eyes water, the sound of thunder rumbling in the sky and shaking the earth has you hugging yourself in comfort as you stand in one place, unable to move.

Harsh rustling of leaves and snapping of twigs on your right have you turning your head fast in that direction and you squint your eyes in the darkness, trying to make out a shape.

What once was nothing suddenly becomes a flurry of iridescent lights, your eyes can barely stand to look at it and the only shape you could make out is a pair of big transluscent wings.

"Don't be afraid."- you hear a sweet voice before you slip into the darkness, expecting to hit the earth beneath you as you sway but you don't feel anything.

-

You're slowly waking up, the scent of flowers fills up the space around you as you lay on the most comfortable bed you've ever been in.

There's a weird sound flooding your ears, equally soothing as it is unnerving, coupled with a sweet voice singing a beautiful melody, unlike something you've ever heard before.

As you finally manage to open your eyes, you have to shield them from so much bright light and sparkling that attack them.

"W-where am I?"- your voice is groggy as you sit up and almost slip off of the weird bed suspended in the air as it hangs from the tall ceiling, the material of the sheets feels like pure silk, but even more smooth than any silk you've touched before.

The smell of flowers becomes more intense.

"You're in my house."- a creature appears on your right and you shriek, jolting and almost slipping again.

Even though fear has you trembling, the ethereal beauty of the being somehow calms you down.

The creature lifts it's hand up and the swinging of the "bed" stops.

"Wh-what are you?!"- your eyes are fixed on the creature's transluscent wings, the colors changing as it slowly moves them and you realize that the creature is levitating next to you.

They start laughing as you keep looking at them with a confused expression on your face.

"I'm a syplh."- the creature says like you should absolutely know what that is.

"A what?"- you chuckle incredulously, you must've really hit your head hard when you fainted earlier.

The creature rolls their eyes before side-eyeing you.

"Of course you don't know! Humans don't know anything! You've heard of fae folk, right?"- the creature asks and you nod.

"Like faeries?"- you ask.

"They're just part of fae folk. Like sylphs."

"I'm hallucinating though, right? I'm somewhere in a hospital, probably in a freaking coma."- you shake your head and the sylph reaches their hand towards you and pinches your arm.

"Ouch! What was that for?"- you ask as you rub your skin.

"See, you're awake. I saved you, by the way. You should be thankful."- the sylph squints at you.

"Saved me from what? The storm?"- you ask and the sylph sighs in annoyance.

"I created the storm to save you."- the creature says like it's the most normal thing ever.

"From who?"- you ask, it's like someone has deleted your memory leading up to the storm, you don't remember walking out of your house, you don't remember going into the forest, you only remember the wind, the storm and you fainting.

It's the last memories you have, after the one of you going to bed safely in your house.

"Him."- the sylph shivers, the jewels on his hands and around his neck glinting in the light, making you realize that the weird buzzing sound comes directly from the shiny gems.

"Him?"- you raise you eyebrow.

"I will not say his name. He can hear it."- the creature whispers the last part.

"Alright."- you decide to play along. "What is your name then or do they just call you sylph?"

"Of course they don't. My name is Hyunjin."- he says, crossing his arms.

"Alright Hyunjin, I think I want to go home now."- you emphasize his name.

"Ha!"- he scoffs. "The human says it like it's that easy."

"Don't call me 'the human'. I have a name too. It's y/n."- you cross your arms on your chest too.

"Okay, y/n. You should be a little more grateful that I saved your life. You're acting like it's no big deal but I risked my own life to save you."- Hyunjin looks annoyed.

"Okay, thank you? What do you want me to do?"

"You still don't believe me, I see."- he purses his lips in thought. "Give me your hand."

Your eyebrows raise in question but you still reach your hand out to him.

"Close your eyes."- his hands are soft as they clasp around yours and shivers run down your spine.

"Come on."- Hyunjin nudges you as you keep staring at him.

With a huff, you close your eyes and Hyunjin starts speaking what you would only describe as nonsense words but you guess it must mean something to him.

As he keeps chanting, it's like you're being put into some kind of trance and you feel something building up inside you, making it's way to your lungs and stealing your breath.

You quickly retract your hand as you feel like you're being suffocated and the feeling disappears just as quickly as it came over you.

"What the hell did you do to me?!"- you panic as you hold your hand to your chest.

"Just wanted to show you the smallest sliver of how you would feel if he took you."- the sylph looks serious and something inside you flickers with recognition.

"Okay, let's say I believe you. And you saved my life and I am thankful for that, what do you want in return?"- you ask.

"Hmm. I haven't thought of it yet."- the sylph smirks a little.

"What? So your plan is to keep me here until you think of something that makes me useful to you?"- you look at him incredulously.

"Maybeeeee."

"Hey, you can't do that!"- you yell out as he levitates away from you.

"And you can't get down from my little swing so you better get used to it."- he says and levitates away as you stare down at him.

"Get back here sylph!"- you yell but he just chuckles and leaves you alone.

You can't believe this is happening to you. This must be some kind of fever dream or you're really in a coma and the doctors gave you some meds that have you dreaming up all sorts of things.

You scan your surroundings, you're too high up to jump down and not break your legs, unless you can somehow fall exactly onto the regular bed under you but you don't trust your aiming skills.

The room beneath you is full of art, plants and sparkly gems that emit different colored light, making everything look shiny and pretty.

You don't necessarily think that the sylph is evil, but he is keeping you here against your will with no way to get down.

Whatever the case is, you've no other choice but to lay back down.

Your heart feels heavy as you wonder what's gonna happen to you, your eyes fill with tears and you hug yourself in an attempt to comfort your worried mind.

It's been at least two weeks since the sylph practically started holding you hostage.

He has levitated you down where he usually hangs out, after you lied that you're afraid of heights. He gave you food and a place to shower and sleep, he tries to make you feel comfortable every day you spend with him, you really have it all but you still want to go home.

The problem is, the more time you spend in Hyunjin's house, surrounded by all the shiny magical gems that hum and buzz, the sweet flowers he grows and his carefully crafted art, you start forgetting more and more details of your actual life.

But, at the same time as you keep forgetting yourself, you also keep learning more about Hyunjin.

About his love of art and music, his hauntingly beautiful singing voice, about the properties of his magical gems, about his ability to randomly become invisible just to get on your nerves and tease you a little bit.

And still, his beauty keeps pulling you in, hypnotizing you and making a part of you long to stay with him.

"I have to go do something. Don't even think about running away, I put protection on all exits. He'll never find you here. You're safe, I promise."- the sylph speaks as he caresses your face.

"Please... I just want to go home."- your eyes water. "I-I can't remember where I live."- you add as tears spill down your cheeks.

"Shh, I'll help you remember. Don't worry, I won't harm you."- he promises as he wipes your tears but you don't know if you can trust him.

You've no other choice but to nod at him and watch him turn his back and disappear out the door, leaving you alone with the buzzing and humming.

The days drone on and on before he comes back, stumbling into the house, messy and full of cuts and bruises.

"Hyunjin! What happened to you?"- you ask.

"Doesn't matter."- he shakes his head quickly.

"You're hurt!"- you hurry towards him, about to touch him and he flinches away.

"Don't touch me. I need to heal myself."- he says as you stare at him in shock and wonder.

He turns his back to you, his hands working around the table quickly that you can't even see what exactly he's doing.

The color of his wings seems darkened and he seems upset, gusts of wind running through his hair and hitting your face as you slowly approach him.

"Don't come closer!"- Hyunjin says as if he can sense your presence.

"I'm sorry."- you back away with tears in your eyes and his shoulders hunch up before he turns to look at you.

"It's dangerous for you right now, okay? Don't cry, I'm just thinking about your safety."- he says and you nod quickly, believing him as you blink away your tears and try not to freak out.

He makes some kind of circle with his gems, chanting something that sounds like gibberish to you, and the humming of the crystals becomes louder.

They shine brighter and brighter until you have to shield your eyes, the sound of sparkling becomes louder until it explodes into complete silence.

You slowly blink your eyes open, and Hyunjin is almost back to his normal state, his wings showing all the iridescent colors again.

"I will need to sleep for a few days. Don't worry."- he says, exhaustion written all over his pretty face, his plump lips pouty.

"For a few days?!"- you shriek.

"Yes, you have enough food. Don't try to wake me up, it's cardinal that I get my rest."

"You're not gonna tell me what happened?"- you ask, chewing on your lip nervously as Hyunjin levitates towards his bed.

"It doesn't matter, it's over now. You better not worry your pretty little head about anything. Good night, then."- he says, falling asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

Your lips are parted as you were about to protest but the only sound that comes out is an annoyed huff.

You're angry at him for not telling you anything and keeping you in the dark and you're scared about your memories slipping away from you, the more the days go by, the more things you forget.

You don't remember where you lived or worked, or even what your favorite songs was.

Panic overtakes you as you try to open every door inside Hyunjin's house only to be pushed away by a gust of wind every time you try.

There's really no way to escape.

-

Hyunjin actually sleeps for five whole days.

You take care of his plants while he recharges, you look at the pictures in books he owns since you can't read his language, you observe his sleeping form, laying your body next to his every night, careful not to wake him up.

Every day that passed by, the scent of flowers became stronger, almost suffocating you in it's sweetness and making you realize that it's Hyunjin who smells so intoxicating, not just the plants around him.

When he finally wakes up one evening, you're quick to run to his side.

"Y/n."- he looks almost surprised to see you and you realize that you had almost forgotten your name.

"Hyunjin, are you sick?"- you gasp when you notice that he's covered in sweat, his pupils are blown and his cheeks look red, the redness spreading to his neck, down to his collarbone, down where your eyes keep falling until you see the bulge under his flimsy robe.

"Oh."- your eyes are wide.

"I need your help."- he squirms a little.

"W-with what?"- you act dumb as your heart starts beating hard against your chest.

"I need you to let me fuck you."- he says it without blinking and you start laughing incredulously.

"What is wrong with you?"- you frown as you step back a little.

Hyunjin grips the sheets beneath him, his knuckles turning white.

"This could be your favor for me saving your life. I- ugh- have to mate with someone but I don't want to. The problem is that I get like this and well I can't mate with you since you're human but you could at least help me get through this and-"

"Shut up for a moment."- you say, feeling annoyed.

"How do I know that you'll let me go home after that?"

"I promised I will help you. A sylph never breaks their promise!"- Hyunjin practically whines, beads of sweat rolling down his face, the scent of flowers is so intense that you have to take a deep breath in.

"Says a sylph."- you narrow your eyes at him. "This isn't your first time that you feel like this. What do you usually do when it happens?"

"What do you think I do?"- he scoffs at you, motioning with his hands.

"Oh. Right."- you bite on your lip.

You think about it, maybe this is the only ticket to go back home, the only way out, and Hyunjin's scent is kind of messing with your head, making you feel floaty and turned on, arousal already gathering between your legs.

Do you really even have a choice?

"Okay, but only if you first tell me what the hell is going on here. Who attacked you? What did you go out for in the first place? Who are you keeping me hidden from?"- you demand as you cross your arms.

"It's hard to answer all these questions right now."- Hyunjin whines again, you can see his hard member twitching.

"Answer or suffer, sylph."- you smirk and he growls as he looks at you, clenching his fists as his fingers are still wrapped around the silky sheets.

"Goblins attacked me. I was out gathering some plants for healing and spells. And I told you I can't say his name, all I can tell you is that he's really evil. There, are you happy?"- the sylph breathes heavily.

"For now. I can see you're really struggling."- you feel like you have the upper hand suddenly as you slowly approach him.

"Yes I am. Now come here and help me."- he says and you chuckle as you hover over him.

"Say please."- you tease and his teeth clench as he looks at you.

"Please."

You grab his face and slowly lean down, your lips pressing on his and Hyunjin kisses you back passionately, the flowery scent enveloping your senses as he grips your arms and pulls you into his lap.

You gasp as your core lands directly on his hard bulge, and he starts pushing his hips up into you instantly, making you moan as his tongue prods at your lips.

You let him explore your mouth as your fingers tangle in his hair and his hands grab at your body desperately while you grind on him and meet his hips as you move together in a steady rhythm.

"Fuck this."- he mumbles against your lips and swiftly turns you around, your back hitting the bed as you whimper and look at him with wide eyes.

Whatever upper hand you thought you had was gone in that moment.

He's impatient as he strips quickly, his body on display for you, lean, toned, shiny from the sweat that smells of the sweetest flowers, his cock big and heavy, desperate to be buried inside your heat.

"Oh."- you gasp as you look at it. You've never seen a cock so big and so pretty as his, you even want to taste it.

"Like what you see?"- he smirks and you nod quickly, your pussy dripping with so much arousal.

"You get to use it for your pleasure."- he keeps smirking as he nods at you to get undressed.

You undress just as quickly as he did, letting him see everything.

"Fuck, you're beautiful."- he gasps almost as if he wasn't expecting it, his hands automatically grabbing at your breasts, squeezing them and playing with your nipples.

"H-Hyunjin."- you moan, your arousal is leaking down onto the sheets beneath you and Hyunjin can smell it, and it makes him feel even more entraced by you.

"I've never fucked a human actually."- he says as his hand slides down towards your core.

"Yeah? Should I feel honored?"- your eyes are hazy as you smirk lazily, his fingertips on your clit.

"You should."- he looks at you with a cocky smile, his fingers moving in a circle.

"Fine, I'm honored."- you say and he chuckles as he slides his fingertips down between your folds.

"Wow, so wet."- Hyunjin's eyes roll back as his cock twitches. "Can't wait to sink into you."- he adds.

"Hyunjin!"- you whimper as he starts flicking your clit fast, the wetness making you feel even more turned on.

"You think you can take all of me?"- he smirks.

"Yes, yes!"- you moan, leaning into his touch as he abuses your swollen nub.

"I'm still gonna prep you. I don't wanna hurt you."- he says it sweetly, his fingers prodding at your entrance.

You whimper as he pushes them in and starts fucking you gently.

"Ah, please, faster!"- you beg, everything is overwhelming and it's like your pleasure is hitting you harder than it usually would.

Hyunjin obliges, fucking into you harder and faster, attacking your sweet spot, his lips are parted and his eyes are dark and full of lust as he keeps you locked under his intense gaze.

His wings sparkle behind him, creating light around his beautiful body, making him look even more ethereal.

You moan loudly as your orgasm hits you hard, making you spill your juices on his fingers and soak the bed under you as he slowly pulls them out.

"Mm."- Hyunjin whines as he tastes you on his fingertips. "You taste so sweet. I like it."

"H-Hyunjin."- you whimper, feeling delirious as your eyes fall down to his throbbing cock.

"You want this?"- he smirks as he wraps his nimble fingers around his length and starts pumping it slowly, giving you a little show.

"P-please."- you whine, feeling so desperate to be filled up to the hilt.

"I'll give it to you, darling."- the nickname makes you twitch as he presses the tip of his cock against you, running it on your folds and gathering your wetness before he slowly pushes in.

"Ah!"- you whimper at the big stretch, bigger than you've ever had before and he keeps pushing in making you wonder just how long he is.

"Fuck, you're taking it so well. Didn't think a little human pussy like yours would be so greedy."- Hyunjin smirks, feeling powerful as you look at him almost cross-eyed and he hasn't even started thrusting yet.

"H-Hyunjin."- you grip at his arm, your fingers almost slipping agains this sweaty skin.

"You feel that?"- he presses on your stomach and you jolt as you whimper and look down. "I'm in your womb. Wish I could breed you."- he groans.

"Wish so too."- you mumble, feeling like you're in some kind of trance or under some kind of spell, and maybe you are but at this point you don't even care, not when he starts slowly thrusting, his cock sliding deliciously against your wet walls.

He smirks as your eyes flutter and roll back in your head, his length is touching spots inside you that no one else has touched before, making you see stars as the sounds of squelching fill the room up.

"Ah, so warm."- Hyunjin moans, taking out half his length and pushing it back in, faster with every thrust, the tip pressing against your cervix.

You open your eyes and look at him, teary as you wrap your arms around his wet body and pull him in closer, your legs wrapping around him, trapping him inside your warmth and inside your embrace.

A flicker of something soft sparkles in his eyes and it seems to even surprise him as he grips at your breasts and speeds up, making you take it deeper and faster, his cock splitting you open only for him.

"Ah- Hyunjin!"- you cry out, tears spilling down your cheeks.

"Y/n."- he moans into your ear as he bends your legs and they end up on his shoulders, making him hit even deeper inside you, his balls smacking against your ass.

A string of curses and unrecognizable words keep spilling out of your mouth as he abuses your hole, bringing his weight down on you, gripping your wrists and pinning them down next to your head.

"I will make you mine."- he growls, losing control over himself as he fucks you fervently, all coherent thoughts and sentences have left your brain.

"Yours!"- you moan and he smirks, one of his hands pressing on your tummy to feel how deep he is inside you.

"Only mine."- Hyunjin growls as you cream around his cock, driving him crazy as he twitches inside you, releasing his load deep into you, the warm liquid filling you up, drops of it sliding out even though he still has you plugged up with his cock.

The scent of sweet and fresh flowers is overwhelming and your pussy clenches around his cock that's still semi-hard.

"Sylphs can fuck for days without stopping, did you know that?"- he smirks at you, caressing your face and moving a hair that was stuck to your forehead.

Your lips open in wonder but still you can't form a sentence.

"Don't worry, I know you humans are fragile. But, I'm still gonna push your limits, darling. You have to let me know when it's too much, is that okay?"- Hyunjin asks with a gentle smile, his cock becoming harder inside you again.

"Yes."- you say breathlessly.

"Good girl. Let's see how much you can take."

-

As you open your eyes the next morning, last night becomes a blur of pleasure and passion.

Your body is sore and you can barely move, your eyes instantly search for Hyunjin.

"Good morning."- he appears next to you with a cup in his hand. "I know you're in pain so I mixed this up for you, it'll make you feel better."- he adds with a gentle smile on his face, reaching the cup towards you.

"What is it?"- your voice is hoarse, almost unrecognizable to you as you take the cup into your hand and look at the shiny liquid.

"Just a healing potion."- he nudges you to drink. "Finish all of it."

"Okay."- you nod and start drinking, it tastes sweet and refreshing like you were drinking the nectar directly out of a flower.

"There you go."- Hyunjin tilts the cup so you have no choice but to swallow all of the content in it.

"I-is your heat over?"- you ask timidly, wrapping yourself tighter with the sheets.

"No, but it's better now. Yesterday was the peak, so I was quite desperate. Sorry you had to see me like that."- the sylph's cheeks become rosy.

"It's okay."- you say and try to get up, only for your legs to give up immediately, making you fall back down onto the bed.

"Woah, be careful. You need to rest, y/n. Don't try to get up."- Hyunjin is quick to put his arms around you and pull you into a more comfortable position.

Suddenly, your eyes water as you look at him.

"Y-you said you'd take me h-home after y-yesterday."- you hiccup as hot tears start sliding down your cheeks.

"I will, as soon as you finish resting. We have a long way to walk to the portal, and it's very dangerous. That's why I have this for you."- Hyunjin levitates up towards his cabinets and pulls out a necklace with a shiny amethyst pendant, the gem hums and buzzes as he comes closer to you.

"What is that?"

"Amethyst. It's for protection. I won't let anyone harm you."- Hyunjin smiles.

"By anyone you mean him?"- you sniffle.

"Yes, him, and any other evil creature. I will get you home safely, that is, if you even want to go home."

"W-what is that supposed to mean?"- you swallow as Hyunjin clasps the necklace around your neck, the shiny pendant soothingly humming against your skin.

"Well, you probably don't remember much by now. Human minds can't really endure being in this realm for too long."- Hyunjin explains.

"But, I haven't been here for that long, have I? Maybe like a month or two?"- you ask and Hyunjin chuckles.

"Darling, it's been almost 6 years since you've been here. Well, in human time. You're correct about it being around two months in here."

"Six years?!"- you shriek. "I've been gone for six years to everyone that knows me in real life?"

"Yes, I'm sorry I didn't tell you before that time works differently here. I didn't want to upset you like you are now."- the sylph bites on his lip nervously.

"Oh my god."- you start crying again, your breathing becoming shallower as you start shivering.

"Hey, hey calm down."- Hyunjin quickly wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to his body, his fingers soothing on your skin. "It's okay."

"No, it is not!"- you try to push him away. "It's your fault, you kidnapped me!"

"I didn't kidnap you y/n, that's nonsense! I saved your life and I'm keeping you safe from him."

"Who? Who are you keeping me safe from?"- you demand, still trying to push Hyunjin away but his arms are strong around you and he doesn't budge.

"Fine, I'll tell you more information if it will get you to calm down but I cannot say his name or he may find us and then everything will be in vain."- Hyunjin starts and you just stare at him, waiting for him to start explaining.

He sighs, still holding you close.

"He's a powerful dark fairy. He used to be on the light side but he started using dark magic and became tainted. He practiced a lot of it so it made him very strong, so strong that he can snap your neck in a matter of miliseconds without even touching you. Everyone here fears him, there's a whole part in the woods that none of us go near to because we think he lives there."

"Okay, that is scary but what do I have to do with him? I'm just an insignificant human."- you wipe your tears as Hyunjin hands you a handkerchief so you can blow your nose.

"He lured you in here. He brought you to this realm by hypnotizing you with his voice, I've no idea what he wants to do with you but obviously you're not just an insignificant human if he has tried to take you."- the sylph reveals.

"I- I don't know what to say."- you try to process all the information Hyunjin just gave to you.

"Maybe you should go back to sleep. I'll make some food for you when you wake up and then we can leave if you want. But you're welcome to stay here with me, if that's okay with you. I actually kinda like having you here."- Hyunjin admits, his face becoming red and the scent of flowers floods your nostrils.

"I don't know what I want. I'm confused and scared."- you admit.

"Don't be scared, I'll take care of you."- the sylph leans in and kisses your forehead before he lays you down. "Shh, go to sleep."- he adds as you try to talk, only for his hands to move above your face and make you fall asleep instantly.

Deeper in the forest, where darkness resides at all times, not even the moonlight illuminates the path between the thick bushes and big branches that lean menacingly towards the ground, a dark creature's anger builds.

He can't find the object of his affection, the only thing he knows is that the sylph took you and probably protected you from the influence of his dark magic.

Even the most powerful spells didn't work in his favor, resulting in rage coursing through the creature's veins like poison. His power grows and feeds on his hatred, his hands lifting up to levitate any object in front of his eyes, smashing them into the wall as he growls loudly, his screams of anger echoing inside his lair.

He even lifts his bed and table, easily snapping them in half with just one movement of his hand as if they were mere twigs.

He has to find the sylph and show the sparkly creature exactly what happens when you mess with the darkness itself.

You're still half asleep when you feel Hyunjin's hard member pressed into your ass as he ruts against you.

"H-hey!"- you gasp, about to turn around but his arms wrap around you.

"I'm sorry, I'm just feeling so hot again. I need you."- he whimpers into your ear before his lips travel down to your neck, he leaves sweet kisses on your skin as he slides the sheet off of you.

"Hyunjin."- you whine as he adjusts your leg and the tip of his cock presses against your wet pussy.

"Please let me put it in."- he whimpers as he bites down on your neck, sliding his cock against your entrance.

"F-fine."- you whimper when he squeezes your breast.

Hyunjin inhales sharply as he slowly pushes in, the angle doesn't let him to completely bury himself inside you but he's satisified to be holding you flush against his body as he slowly rocks into you.

You moan quietly as he plays with your breasts and keeps kissing you everywhere his lips can reach, trying to push his cock into your heat as much as he could.

"Y/n?"- he noses your cheek and you turn to look at him.

"W-would you consider staying here with me?"- he asks, his eyes big and hopeful.

"W-what? You really want me to stay here?"- you're taken aback as his arms wrap around you more tightly.

"Yeah. I can teach you my language and traditions. I can show you how to make art like mine. I can teach you simple spells and how to work with gems."- Hyunjin looks excited suddenly, forgetting to push his hips into you as you involuntarily clench around him.

"That- Why do you want to do all that?"- you swallow.

"I never thought I'd say this to a human or anyone for that matter, but I'm falling in love with you."- he says and the sweet scent of flowers is almost unbearable.

"You don't mean that. You're in heat and you're not thinking straight, it's your physical need to mate and when that passes, you will feel how you felt about me before."- your lips tremble.

"That is not true! I knew I liked you even before, I just didn't want to get myself into anything with a human. But now, I can't hold back anymore and I don't want to, not after I've had you like this."- he holds you tight.

"Yes, that's it. I'm just a human. We can't mate or anything. We don't even belong to the same realm. I need to- I need to go back home..."

"I don't want to mate, or have actual offspring. If I wanted a mate, don't you think I'd have one by now? I only want to spend my time with you. I'd give you anything you need, you would never be unhappy. And he could never harm you if you just stayed here. This could be your home, darling. You don't even remember where home is, don't you? You don't remember anything but being here with me."

"D-did you do that on purpose?"- your eyes water. "Did you make me forget on purpose just so you can keep me here?"

"That is not in the range of my powers and I would never do that. You fulfilled your purpose, so to say. I can take you home any time you want. It's your choice. I'm just telling you that I would be very happy if you stayed here with me."- he leaves kisses on your shoulder, his cock twitching inside you as you keep becoming wetter around him.

"I- I don't know anymore. I don't know anything."

"Let me help you decide."- Hyunjin smirks as he grips your hips and pushes you down on your stomach, his length slipping back inside you but this time he pushes in further, determined to fill you up completely and make you drunk on his cock.

"Ah!"- you whimper as you take it, your pussy sucking him in perfectly.

"Fuck, you were made to take me!"- Hyunjin groans as he grips the soft flesh on your ass and starts thrusting into you.

"Ah, ah, ah!"- you keep moaning, your mind cloudy as he fills you up so perfectly, your nails digging into his bed, your aroused nipples constantly rubbing on the soft fabric beneath you.

One of Hyunjin's hands sneaks around you and between your legs to play with your clit, the other hand still on your ass lifts up and he spanks you harshly.

You jolt and whimper loudly, your pussy clenching so tight around his pulsating cock that it almost hurts him.

"You like that?"- he smirks and spanks you hard again, the sound echoing in the room.

You moan and try to look at Hyunjin, he's all sweaty, sparkly and perfect, smelling so nice, loving you so good, his pretty wings framing his hot body.

He's like a dream and you're afraid to wake up.

Maybe you don't wanna go home.

Maybe this is your home, right next to him.

With that thought as he keeps fucking his length into you, his hand stinging your flesh, his fingers quick on your clit, you explode, cumming and squirting around him, making him even more wet and slippery inside you.

"Ah, fuck darling! Gonna breed you so good."- he whines, gripping your hips and fucking into you with erratic thrusts.

You keep moaning loudly, holding onto the sheets like it's your lifeline as he pistons into you harshly.

"Fuck! Y/n!"- Hyunjin groans as he cums hard, filling you up with so much hot liquid that in that moment you think he might actually get you pregnant even though you know it's impossible.

Hyunjin rides out his high before leaning down to kiss your shoulder and cheek.

He slowly pulls out of you, and you feel his cum gushing out of your fucked out pussy. Hyunjin can't help himself as he leans down and licks at you, making you whimper.

"What are you-"

"Wanted to taste you."- he kisses your supple flesh before lifting up. "I'll be right back."

Your mind is swirling as you're still coming down from your high, thinking about everything Hyunjin had said earlier.

You don't even register him coming back and cleaning you up.

"Are you okay?"- he asks as he carefully turns you around.

"I don't know what I am. I don't remember anything anymore, just feelings and fleeting moments. I barely remember my name, if you didn't keep repeating it maybe I'd forget that too."

Hyunjin's heart squeezes.

"Alright. I understand. You want to go back home, remember your life."- his jaw tenses. "I will make you some food now. And then we can get ready to leave."

"O-okay."- you nod, not even sure what you want anymore, tears pricking at your eyes as Hyunjin swiftly turns around and disappears from your eyesight.

-

Preparing for your journey back to the portal that will take you home took a longer time than you thought it would.

Hyunjin packed a lot of different potions and protective gems, food and water, and even some blankets to sleep in.

It took a few days to actually even step out of his house, the desire and passion that built up between the two of you was making it hard to part.

A big part of you wanted to stay by Hyunjin's side, but something inside you was nagging you to go home.

"Oh, wow."- you gasp as Hyunjin and you start making your way through the forest, the part where he lives is unlike anything you've ever seen, it looks like it came straight out of fairytales you used to read when you were little.

There are other houses like his around, so many gardens and magical flowers that emit some kind of light, making everything seem even more alive and bright than it already is.

Other sylphs are levitating around, greeting the two of you as you pass them by.

"Do they know who I am?"- you ask quietly.

"Yes, they know I've been keeping you safe."- Hyunjin nods.

"It's not the first time that we help out humans. It's my first time though."- he adds as he smiles at you.

"Another first. I should feel honored again, right?"- you chuckle.

"Of course."- he smirks at you as he leads you down the beaten path.

The first part of the journey is calm, the sights around you are beautiful and inspirational, making you feel somewhat nostalgic that you're leaving it all behind.

But as the sun keeps falling lower and the night draws in closer, you leave the safest part of the forest where only the sylphs, pixies and faeries reside.

It's getting darker and colder with every step you take, and in his lair, the dark creature can smell you.

A loud cackle escapes his lips, before it turns into a mad sinister laugh. It worked. His spell finally worked and managed to lure you out.

Unfortunately, he could also smell the sylph's flowery scent that makes the creature gag, but he doesn't worry because he knows; as soon as you step into the darkest part of the forest, he will easily get rid of the helpless little sylph and finally have you all to himself.

"This is a good resting point."- Hyunjin points to a spot between two trees that seem to be shielding it with the way they lean towards each other, their branches entagled together.

"Yeah."- you nod, exhaustion is taking over you as your eyes try to adjust to the darkness.

Hyunjin's wings give enough light to see where you're stepping and he leads you to the spot, levitating around while he creates a makeshift bed out of the blankets he brought.

"Lay down, my darling."- he gently tucks you in, a fond smile on his face.

"W-what about you?"- you ask sleepily.

"Sylphs can be awake for days, so don't worry. I will be on guard while you rest."- he gently caresses your face.

"Okay."- you nod, falling asleep in an instant.

-

Commotion wakes you up with a jolt, your eyes wide as you sit up abruptly.

You hear sounds of a struggle before your eyes can even make sense of anything, a flurry of lights moving quickly in front of you, creating wind that picks leaves and branches up off the ground, messes up your hair and makes goosebumps rise on your skin.

"Hyunjin?!"- you panic, trying to understand what it is you're looking at.

You hear creepy grunts on your left and you quickly turn towards the source of the sounds and see a little creature so ugly, with big dark eyes, huge pointy nose, sharp and menacing teeth.

For it being so small, it's hands are big, ending with huge claws at the end of it's fingers.

At first, you can't even move or utter a sound as it comes closer to you, lifting it's hands up threateningly with a sinister smile. Fear traps you in place and all you can do is look at the danger that's about to rip your flesh to pieces.

Finally, you let out a shriek as it comes near you, the stench of it making it's way to your nostrils and making you gag.

You shield your face with your arms, leaning away from the monster as you await to feel it's sharp nails digging into your skin.

But, all you can hear is a quick zap and a squeak, and you feel the smell of something burning before gentle hands are placed on your shoulders.

You flinch in fear, tears streaming down your cheeks, but it's Hyunjin's soothing voice that brings you out of the state of utter terror.

"Hey, hey, it's okay y/n. It's just me."- he caresses you gently.

You slowly open your eyes and gasp when you see the cuts and bruises on his skin.

"W-what happened?"- you ask.

"We were attacked by goblins. Don't worry, I managed to fight them off. For now, at least. We're coming up to the most dangerous part of the forest. Where he lives. But I won't let anything hurt you, okay?"- Hyunjin promises.

"You're hurt."- you say, tears still making their way down your cheeks.

"It's okay, I brought a lot of healing potions."

"I'm scared."- you sniffle and Hyunjin wraps his arms around you, bringing you into his embrace.

"Me too. But I will do everything that's in my power to get you back home safely."- he says, his soft lips kissing your skin and catching your falling tears.

You look at him and he melts, leaning in to kiss you as he can't help himself.

"Please don't."- you move away after a moment. "It's going to be harder to leave."

"I know."- Hyunjin smiles sadly. "You know we can still turn around and go back to my home where it's safe."

"I-I can't, Hyunjin. I don't know why but I need to get to that portal."

He suspects that your need to leave is actually the dark fairy's spell, and he knew from the beginning that the dark creature would get what he wanted, because there was no way Hyunjin could fight him.

But he had hope that you would be strong enough to resist the spell and stay with him, that he could somehow keep you safe and make his home yours too.

The sylph knows that the dark fairy is much more powerful than he is and there's no way he won't try to take you as soon as you enter the deepest part of the forest, but Hyunjin feels okay with inevitably dying by the bloodied hands of the monster if he manages to somehow keep you safe.

As you fall asleep again, Hyunjin holds you in his arms the whole night, his hands gently caressing your face as he looks at you fondly, wishing you would just come back home with him, but he knows it wouldn't be right to make you do anything against your will.

-

Even with the arrival of morning, the sun never manages to shine the path you're walking on.

The forest is too thick, enveloped in perpetual darkness, danger lurking around every corner.

You can hear all sorts of creatures scurrying around in the shadows, red eyes hidden in the bushes following your movements as you clutch onto Hyunjin's arm.

You don't speak, there's a lump in your throat as your wide eyes survey the place, your fingers digging into the sylph's smooth skin any time something frightens you.

"Shh, it's okay."- he tries to convince you but he knows he's leading you straight to the danger and himself right into a death trap.

As you near the almost complete darkness, everything becomes eerily still and quiet, so much so that you hear your heart beating inside your ears.

"We need to be extra careful."- Hyunjin whispers into your ear as you shiver and keep holding onto him.

You've never seen a place so dead, so silent, and the fear inside you creeps up your spine, to the back of your neck, lifting the hairs on your skin.

A heavy feeling weighs on your chest as it becomes harder to breathe, and you look up at Hyunjin's face to see that he looks frightened too.

"He's here."- Hyunjin swallows, the color draining from his face as the two of you hear a chuckle echo between the trees.

"At last, we meet. Sylph. You've something that belongs to me."- a deep voice talks calmly, a smirk evident in it and you keep turning to try and see where the creature is but you can't see anything except darkness.

"She doesn't belong to you! You can't take her!"- Hyunjin raises his voice but you can hear how it trembles.

The dark creature can smell the fear and it makes him excited as he laughs loudly, the deep laughter making your heart beat even faster.

"I can take whoever I want."- the creature says and a dark mist starts swirling in front of you, almost blowing you back from the speed of the swirling before he finally appears in front of you.

You gasp as you look at him, you were expecting an ugly monster, somewhat similar to the goblins but even bigger and scarier.

But what stands before you is a beautiful man with raven dark hair, his facial features are perfect, his lips look plump and soft, his physique is elegant but strong, the black suit emphasizing the grace he moves with, gliding as his big black wings move slowly.

What scares you the most are his eyes, completely black, like an abyss of nothingness, devoid of any emotions as he stares at you and smirks.

"Come here, little one."- he says and you quickly shake your head in fear, but your legs feel the need to move.

It's like something has gotten a hold on you and is pulling you directly towards him.

"Fight it, y/n!"- Hyunjin begs as he rummages through his stuff and tries to find a protective potion he has made.

You try your hardest to fight it but your legs keep moving towards the dark creature.

"Take this, you monster!"- Hyunjin finally finds the potion and throws the little bottle at the dark fairy's feet.

It explodes, the smoke lifting up but ultimately it did nothing as the creature starts cackling.

"It's funny to see you trying to kill me, little sylph. Try harder."- the creature says as you still struggle, falling down to your knees and trying to hold onto the ground, tears gathering in your eyes.

Hyunjin knows there's no way he can kill the creature but he tries again, chanting the strongest protection spell that exists, holding a black obsidian stone in his hand.

The dark fairy laughs again, the stone breaking into thousand little pieces and Hyunjin gasps as he looks at his open palm.

"I've had enough of these games."- the creature growls and waves his hand in Hyunjin's direction, lifting his body into the air and smashing him into one of the trees.

You scream as Hyunjin's body hits the floor with a thud and he groans in pain, clutching at his stomach.

"Hyunjin!"- you want to run to him but you can't move. "P-please, don't hurt him! Please!"- you look back at the creature who levitates closer to you, the fear inside you growing, threatening to swallow you whole.

His face breaks into an evil smile, sharp teeth showing as he lifts his hand and suddenly you hear Hyunjin gasping for air as the creature chokes him without even laying a hand on him.

"Stop it! Stop! Don't kill him!"- you beg on your knees, trying to grab at the creature but he levitates up, bringing Hyunjin up with him, sliding his back up the tree, his wings shredding to pieces as his eyes widen in pain and he keeps trying to breathe in but he can't.

"Please!"- you cry out.

The creature laughs, releasing Hyunjin and letting his body hit the ground harshly, the sound of bones cracking makes your skin crawl as your head snaps in the direction he fell.

Hyunjin's limp body lays under the tree, thick blood pooling around him like a dark sea that's drowning him and taking him away from you.

"H-Hyunjin..."- you whisper, your chest constricted as you heave for air.

"Forget about the sylph. You don't need him. You only need me, little one."- the dark creature smirks wickedly.

You want to scream at him, cry, hit him, run to Hyunjin but it's like you have an invisible leash around you that pulls you towards the dark fairy as he starts leading you towards his lair.

You try to fight it but you can't, your legs tripping over branches as they take you further away from Hyunjin's lifeless body, as if they have a mind of their own.

When you finally enter the lair, huge wooden doors close with a loud bang, making the entire room shake as you fall down to your knees.

The creature looks at you with a wide smile on his face.

"Finally."- he exhales. "Finally, you're exactly where you belong, my little sweetheart."

"D-don't come near me!"- you shriek, falling backwards on your butt as your back hits the wall.

The creature floats towards you, his hand lifting up, and you flinch, waiting to feel some kind of pain he'd inflict on you.

"I won't hurt you."- he says and you can feel a soft caress on your cheek even though he's not directly touching you.

"You killed Hyunjin, you monster!"- you scream out and the creature growls angrily, his hand lifting up a chair that was on your right, smashing it into the wall.

You shield yourself with your arms, a whimper coming out of your mouth.

"Don't say that sylph's name anymore! He got what he deserved, though I think I should've made him suffer more. I should've ripped him up to pieces before killing him. I held back only because of you, my sweet."- he says.

"Wow, thank you."- you say sarcastically. "What the fuck do you want from me? If you want to kill me, just do it already. I'm just a human anyways, I can't possibly fight back. Just end it now."- fresh tears start falling out of your eyes.

"Don't say that! You're supposed to want to stay with me!"- the dark fairy clenches his fists in anger. "We will get there. As soon as I get you all under my spell."

"Why me?"- you ask desperately.

"Because I've been in love with you my whole life. Even when I was just a fairy. But you didn't notice me. I tried everything, I sang to you and called to you, I was the river, the tree, the sunlight. But you ignored every call of mine and I knew that white magic would never help me get to you so that is why I became like this. I have no soul now but still I crave you. So, you owe me in a way, I made myself evil just to get to you. You owe me."- the creature repeats lowly.

"I don't owe you anything! That was your choice to go to the dark side."- you protest.

"I did it because of you!"- he gets angry again, lifting his hand up in your direction.

You jolt but he doesn't touch you, he lifts up the necklace Hyunjin clasped around your neck for protection and smashes it into pieces.

"You don't need this anymore. I'll make you forget him. I'll make you forget everything."- he smirks as you cry quietly. "You should only remember one thing."

"W-what?"- you whimper.

"My name. Felix. It's the only thing you'll come to know."- the dark fairy cackles deeply as he turns around and closes you into the little room.

All the fear and pain clutching onto your being turn into exhaustion and you fall asleep on the floor, feeling abandoned and terrified.

-

You wake up on the bed, with Felix hovering near you and when you realize you're not with Hyunjin anymore and that he's probably dead, your eyes water instantly.

"Shh, don't cry."- the dark creature appears before you, holding something in his hands.

"P-please."- you scoot as far away as you can from him.

"It's okay. I have something for you."- he shows you a cup full of some weird black liquid.

"What is that?"- you hiccup.

"You have to drink it."- he says.

"No."- you shake your head quickly. "I'm not taking anything from you. I want to die."

"Don't talk like that!"- Felix almost gets angry again, trying to calm down so he can have better control over his powers. "You're going to drink it."

"No, I won't!"- you cross your arms over your chest.

Felix is swift as he corners you, his hand gripping your chin and you gasp as your eyes widen in fear.

"Don't make me break your jaw."- he threatens lowly and as you stare into his completely black eyes, you know he's not joking around and you have no choice but to do as he says.

You let him bring the cup to your lips and you drink, almost throwing up at the disgusting taste but Felix makes you drink it all.

You cough when he moves his hand away, grabbing at your throat as you feel a slight burn.

"W-what did you give me?"- you whimper.

"It's a concoction to protect you from good magic. No one will take you away from me, not even yourself."- he says, before his hand grabs yours.

Before you can pull away, he starts chanting, his voice getting deeper and deeper the more he speaks, shivers run through your body but you can't move away from him.

You feel something building up inside you, something dark and heavy, akin to when the sylph held your hand and chanted too.

The sylph. What was his name again?

You couldn't remember. You remember his shiny wings, his pretty face, his touches and kisses but suddenly you can't remember his name.

Hot tears slide down your cheeks as the darkness keeps growing inside you, swallowing your insides, poisoning you with thoughts only of Felix.

"There, there."- your eyelids feel droopy as Felix lays you down. "You'll be okay, little one. Sleep now and we will continue tomorrow."

Day by day, the creature keeps pouring darkness into you, and you cannot fight it, your soul keeps becoming more and more tainted, shrinking and leaving a gaping hole inside you.

Your mind is slowly becoming blank, like a clean slate that he can mould however he wants.

You can't remember anything anymore, not even your name, only snippets of the forest, some kind of fighting, some kind of humming and glinting.

But it's all meaningless, the only thing that's clear in your mind is Felix.

-

"Come here, little one."- Felix beckons you, his hands patting his thighs and you follow mindlessly, sitting down in his lap.

"Tell me, do you like the dress I made for you?"- he asks, his hands on your waist, caressing the black lace that adorns you.

"Yes, Felix. I love it."- you nod and he gives you a smirk.

"I knew you'd like it, but I feel like you would look even better without the dress, what do you say?"

"Whatever you want, Felix."- you look at him, your reflection seemingly small in his big black eyes.

"I want you to let me kiss you."- his lips are closer to yours now, his breath hitting your face.

"Okay."- your eyes close as you wait for him to claim you.

His plump lips press on yours and move gently, contrast to all the anger you witnessed from the creature and you surrender into the kiss as he wraps one arm around your waist and the other tangles in your hair.

Felix nibbles on your lip as his hand slides down to grip your ass and massage it, your lips part as you whimper and he takes that chance to slide his tongue inside, dominating yours as he tastes you.

A little part inside you wants to pull away because deep inside you know he's a monster, he's pure evil, he influenced your mind to obey him with magic but the darkness he fed to you overpowers anything else inside you and you comply when he pulls your head back and starts kissing your neck.

"I've waited so long to have you."- he mumbles against your skin, his wet lips dragging on your sensitive skin, biting into the soft flesh to mark you.

"You'll give yourself to me, won't you sweetheart?"- he whispers sweetly and you can't say no.

"Yes, Felix."- you moan as he grips your thighs.

His hands slide up as he smirks and grabs your breasts, massaging them and pinching your nipples, making you squirm in his lap as you get more aroused with every touch.

You feel his bulge under you growing and you gasp as he presses against you, the hotness between your bodies pulling you in closer to him as you grab onto his shoulders and grind your wet cunt against him.

"My little sweetheart is so eager, hm?"- Felix chuckles, pushing up into you.

"Mm, yes."- you moan as he licks at your collarbone.

"I need you to do something for me before I give you what you need the most."- his deep voice rings in your ear.

"Anything."- you say, like you're hypnotized.

"Get on your knees for me, my sweet."- he commands and you obey without questions, kneeling between his spread legs.

The way you look up at him patiently and innocently, waiting for him to give you his next command almost makes him crumble.

He chuckles lowly as he slides his pants down, his huge cock almost smacking you in the face.

You gasp as you look at it, you don't think you can even take all of it and a pout forms on your face.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?"- his hand cups your cheek, thumb rubbing your skin gently.

"It's so b-big."- your lips tremble.

"I know."- he smirks. "It's gonna feel good when I put it inside you, don't worry. Just taste it a little bit, okay?"

"Okay."- you nod, leaning in to give his swollen head a few kitten licks.

"Good sweetheart. Come on, put your pretty lips around it."

You obey, lips wrapping around him as you suck lightly, his pre-cum sliding down on your tongue, spurring you on to take more.

Felix groans at the way your lips stretch around him and the way you keep trying to take more in, even though you physically can't.

"It's okay."- he says as he pats your head, hearing you whine in frustration around him.

"That's enough."- he says and you slide off of him with a pop, a string of saliva connecting you to his member.

"Lay on the bed for me."- he says and you walk towards the bed, stripping out of your dress and laying down naked.

Felix follows you, stripping teasingly as you stare up at him and salivate at the sight of his body.

"Spread your legs."- he smirks as he kneels on the bed and you do as he says.

He scoots closer to you, gripping your legs and moving them up so your knees press onto your shoulders.

"I'm gonna fill you up so good, my sweet."

"I-is it gonna hurt?"- you swallow the saliva that gathered in your mouth.

"Just a little bit. But, I already prepared you with my potions and spells. You'll feel satisified like you've never felt in your life."- he chuckles, grabbing his heavy cock and sliding the head on your wet folds.

You almost missed how wet you got, and you moan when you feel him pressing against your little entrance, making it stretch around the head.

"F-Felix!"- you whimper as the tip breaches in, and your hand looks for his.

He grabs your hand, holding it tightly, his other hand playing with your breast as he slowly pushes his thick, long, veiny cock inside you, making you almost black out from the pleasure the big stretch is giving you.

"Mm, so big! S-so full."- you whimper as he keeps filling you up so much that you have no clue how you're even fitting him inside you and you don't care because he feels so good, so perfect and hot inside your little hole that you feel hypnotized.

Felix can smell the sylph inside you, he knows that he fucked you and anger builds inside him at the thought of that weak whiny sparkly creature having you before he ever did.

His hands grip your thighs as he presses you harder into the bed, pushing the rest of his cock inside you harshly, his heavy balls resting on your ass.

"Ah!"- you whimper, pleasure coursing through your veins and overtaking you as you completely give into the creature, the feeling of being powerless under him makes you equally scared and aroused.

Felix doesn't waste any more time as he start dragging his heavy cock inside you, slamming down onto you and you moan loudly, holding onto the sheets as he fucks you like he's feral.

It's supposed to hurt, in your logical mind you know that, but it's the exact opposite.

The faster and harder he splits your cunt open, the wetter you get, feeling more and more pleasure building up inside you, feeling your body becoming pliant to him, ready to take all of him any time he wants that.

"Finally, my sweet. You're doing so good for me, such a warm and tight hole for my cock."- the dark fairy smirks at you, his black eyes boring into your soul as your breath gets taken away.

You gasp for air as he fucks you with such strength that the bed breaks beneath you, your eyes water and your nails dig into the skin of his biceps right as you cum, harder than ever in your life, squirting around his pulsating cock.

"Mm, so beautiful when you cum for me."- he smirks, fucking you even harder and you can't speak, you can only whimper and moan as he keeps fucking you tirelessly, changing positions a few times, taking out orgasm after orgasm out of you.

"P-please."- you can't take any more, your pussy throbs with sensitivity as he fucks you from behind, the angle making him bury his big cock even deeper inside you, the bulge in your tummy evident.

"Shh."- Felix shushes you as he grabs the supple flesh of your ass, his hips fucking into you three more times before he finally cums, ropes of it keep filling you up endlessly as he groans lowly behind you, leaning down to bite on your shoulder while he rides his high.

"You did so good for me. Took me so well. Feels good?"- he asks, gently caressing your hair.

"Y-yes."- you whimper meekly.

"See, I told you that you'd feel satisfied."- he slowly pulls out, his cum gushing out of you and as he turns you to lay on your back, his spent cock twitches at the sight of your fucked out pussy oozing out his cum.

Felix can't help himself as he leans in, his hands on your inner thighs and he buries his face inside you and starts eating you out hungrily, tasting his cum mixed with yours.

There is no trace of the flowery taste of the sylph and he smirks to himself as you tremble from overstimulation.

"P-please, a break."- you beg and he lifts up.

"I'll give you a break. But, you should get used to this from now on."- Felix smirks as he tucks you in, you're already half asleep as you look up at him.

Your lips part to speak but he shushes you.

"Sleep, my sweet."

After the blood had almost drowned Hyunjin, miraculously his eyes opened, he took a deep breath in and then coughed out more blood.

His whole body throbbed in pain like he never felt before and he knew in that moment that he couldn't fly or walk.

His wings were torn to shreds, skin and flesh ripped on his back, his legs were broken but somehow he survived.

Before he could even assess the extent of the damage, you appeared in his mind.

Your absolutely terrified expression, your tears flowing like a river, your whole body trembling as you fought not to follow the dark fairy but you had no choice as his spells were strong and his influence on you had you in his grip.

The usually peaceful sylph, only fighting when it'a out of self-defense, felt rage unlike ever before bubble up inside him.

Despite the horrible pain burning him on the inside and out, the amount of blood he lost, Hyunjin crawled into the nearest cave, the rage helping him kill a goblin with his bare hands, snapping the neck of the creature and tearing its limbs apart.

He spent days, weeks, months healing and getting stronger, as he found solace in the darkness, his once pure soul turning more and more tainted as he practiced the darkest forbidden magic he could find, conjuring up all sorts of apparitions to teach him their black magic, in turn telling them all the secret places his sylph, pixie and fairy friends lived.

The apparitions would smile from ear to ear, big sharp teeth happy to devour all the unsuspecting light beings, tear them to shreds, destroy their homes and spread their darkness in every corner they could find, their bellies full of hunger for chaos and death.

Hyunjin knew what he was doing was pure evil, and he knew there was no going back from that, as he woke up one morning with horrible pain in his back that had him screaming in the cave, his shrieks echoing off the walls and into the forest, scaring even the goblins and other evil critters away.

Big black wings covered in thick blood sprouted violently from his back, tearing through his skin as he wailed.

His eyes filled with darkness, becoming completely black like a void of nothingness.

His anger made him lift up his hands, as the whole cave started shaking, the stones started cracking, the loud rumble almost causing an earthquake as the cave finally turned into dust.

Hyunjin emerged from it, his big wings lifting him up as a wicked smile danced on his lips.

There is only one thing in his mind now.

Saving you from the clutch of Felix and killing the dark fairy with his bare hands, making him suffer like he did to him and you.

-

Your days became a blur, you didn't even feel like a person anymore, you had no idea who you were, what your name was, how you came to be.

All you knew is that your purpose was to serve Felix so that is what you did.

Whatever he ordered, you would obey, becoming a shell of a human being, just existing to please the dark creature who had underestimated one thing.

He underestimated the very thing that brought him to the state he's in now, the pure infatuation he had with you, the love that turned completely dark.

He had forgotten what love is, forgotten that that's what Hyunjin felt for you and what made him strong, stronger than Felix in his intention to seek revenge.

So, that day as Felix was working on some potions and you patiently sat beside him, waiting for him to tell you what to do, the front door was flung open from the hinges, smashing into the wall in front of it, the pieces of wood exploding all over the place.

Both of you jolted, looking towards the door and in the dust of the explosion, Hyunjin glided in with rage that was almost palpable as he breathed deeply.

You gasped, recognizing him instantly, even with the darkness around him, even with his eyes black as the abyss, black as your captor's eyes.

"Hyu- Hyunjin?"- something broke inside you, tears bursting out of your eyes immediately.

Felix growled as he stood up, shielding you with his wings.

"I thought I killed you, sylph."- he said angrily.

"You thought wrong. You're the one that's going to die."- Hyunjin's voice was unrecognizable, it wasn't the sweet voice that used to sing beatiful melodies to you or the cute giggle that would leave his lips whenever you said something silly.

No, this voice was deep and dark, almost scratchy, the complete opposite of the Hyunjin you knew.

"Hah!"- Felix scoffs. "I'd like to see you try, sylph. I've been doing this a lot longer than you."

"Goodbye, Felix."- Hyunjin smirks and before Felix can even react, Hyunjin lifts his hands up, lifting Felix together with them.

Felix growls, trying to fight back but as soon as he tries to send anything towards Hyunjin, the sylph catches it and throws it back into him, a gust of strong icy wind cutting at Felix's skin and smacking his body into the wall.

You sob on the side, scared and confused as everything slowly comes back to you and there is nothing you can do as you watch your once harmless and sweet Hyunjin waving Felix's body around and smashing him into any surface he comes across like he was a mere ragdoll.

You scoot into the corner of the wall, hugging your knees to your chest as Hyunjin glows red with rage, maiming Felix's already broken body and you close your eyes, your hands pressed on your ears.

Felix chokes on the blood that's bubbling up in his throat and he takes a few last breaths, his black eyes trained on you as he smiles, he at least had you for some time and he can die happy now.

And with that thought, Hyunjin flungs him into the wall one last time, cracking his skull and Felix's lifeless body slides down onto the floor with a loud thud.

In the deafening silence, your sobs are the only thing that fill it up with sound.

Hyunjin knows he's done a horrible thing but he also knows that there is a part of his soul that hasn't died yet, and before that happens, he needs to get you far away from everything that causes you harm.

"Y/n?"- he comes closer to you and you finally look up at him.

"What did you do to yourself, Hyunjin?"- you cry, your heart breaking at the sight of him.

His hair was now completely black like his eyes, his skin pale, black veins painted all around on his face, neck and arms, dark bloodied wings behind him.

"I'm sorry."- he cries, a thick black tear slides down his cheek. "I'm sorry."- he repeats as he comes closer to you, gently grabbing your face.

"I thought you died."- you say, your hands coming up to cover his.

"I thought I was dead too. But, somehow I survived. I had to save you. This was the only way. I can't go back though, I'm sorry y/n but I've done so many evil things. I killed with my bare hands and my teeth. I sent evil beings after all my friends, I got them all slaughtered violently, they're all dead because of me. I- I betrayed my own kind. I have so much blood on my hands now, I'm surprised I even have a little part of my soul left. That's probably only because of you. But, it's just a question of time before I lose that too and hurt you. And I can't bear to think about that so now I will take you to the portal and you will go home and forget about all this."- Hyunjin explains and you start crying again.

"B-but I don't want to forget you."- you grab at him and Hyunjin pulls you into his arms, the embrace that was once warm, now became cold.

"I know. But I'm not the same person anymore. Don't worry, when you go through the portal, you will remember your life and forget about me and that..."- Hyunjin looks at Felix's limp body on the floor. "Everything he did to you or made you do. You'll be okay."

"Hyunjin... I love you."- you cry and he clutches onto you.

"I love you too, darling."- he holds you tighter. "But we must leave now."- he lifts you up in his arms, flying you both out of your prison and towards the portal.

You hold onto him the whole way there, crying and soaking up his clothes with your tears.

What's left of his heart breaks when the portal comes into view.

"What's gonna happen to you?"- you look at the portal then back to Hyunjin.

"I will probably dissipate into the darkness at one point."- he says and you cry harder as you grab at him.

"It's okay. I'm okay with it as long as you're safe."- he smiles, sharp teeth revealed as he looks at you with those eyes full of blankness, making you shiver.

"I'm sorry, Hyunjin. I should've listened to you and stayed at your home. None of this would've happened. It's my fault that you're like this now."

"No."- Hyunjin quickly shakes his head. "I chose to do this to myself so I can save you. Don't worry about it anymore. It's not your fault, okay?"

He pulls you into his chest before you can answer as he gently caresses your head. His hands clasp something around your neck and you gasp leaning back and looking down.

"It's black obisidian. I hope you'll wear it on the other side so I'm always with you even though you won't remember."- Hyunjin smiles sadly and your eyes water again.

He leans in and kisses you one last time before he pulls away and pushes your body through the portal.

You gasp as he disappears out of your sight, together with the forest and everything that happened for the last ten years you've been gone in the real world.

Your back hits the concrete and you hear someone yell out, asking if you're okay but you're too exhausted, your head lolling to the side as your eyes close.

-

Nobody could understand how you could be gone for ten years and still be the same age you were when you disappeared.

You didn't understand it either. You had no idea where you were for the last ten years.

It drove you insane as you thought about it every single day, wondering if aliens abducted you or something of that sort since you couldn't remember even a small fraction of a memory.

All you knew is that you had a black obsidian necklace around your neck, never taking it off, it felt warm and familiar and reminded you of someone but you had no clue who that someone was.

Your wandering thoughts made you go back to the forest, where you always found comfort ever since you were a kid.

Each time you'd walk on the familiar path, in the darkest corners of the thick bushes, you'd feel a presence lurking, but it never scared you as the leaves seemed to whisper and say;

"Hello darling."

Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @porangporangmeong @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @laughatdanger

[valyrianvibranium]

DRAGON DREAMS.

Aemond Targaryen x wife!Reader

Monthly nightmares have already plagued you way before your wedding, even though your grandfather has always addressed them as dragon dreams rather than nightmares. But you and your husband both know you’re not gifted with such abilities.

WARNINGS: canon typical incest/targcest (uncle/niece), nightmares, slight angst, fluff

WORDS: 625

NOTES: this was requested by @marthawrites. Hope you still like it! 💕

It’s impossible for you to run.

Your feet are firmly planted on the ground, not moving regardless of you tugging and pulling at them to lift them and escape the brown dragon in front of you. Even your voice catches in your throat, unable to scream when the large mouth of Sheepstealer snaps towards you, the sharp teeth appearing even more intimidating with the light of the moon reflecting from them.

You stir awake, beads of sweat forming along your hairline and in the valley between your breasts. A hand on your mouth is meant to stifle your screams and sobs, not wanting to wake up your husband. Your breathing is heavy, and it takes you a few moments to adjust to the darkness of your chambers as you prop yourself up on your elbows.

Still half asleep, Aemond rolls onto his side and snakes his arm around your waist to pull you into his embrace, your head resting against his chest as his nose nuzzles into your hair.

“Bad dream?” It’s more a statement than a question, because your husband knows the answer. Monthly nightmares have already plagued you way before your wedding, even though your grandfather has always addressed them as dragon dreams rather than nightmares.

But you and Aemond know you’re not gifted with such abilities, it’s just that your mind has a lot to process with the rising tension between both sides of your family.

His presence always works wonders, the warmth radiating off his body and his scent slowing your panicked breathing and the turmoil inside of your mind, allowing you to melt into him.

While Aemond’s hand cups the back of your neck, his fingers apply just a bit of pressure to your stiff muscles in order to release the pent up tension, and you find yourself being able to speak again.

“I—It‘s…,” you stammer, your breathing still causing you to stutter through a sentence. “Sheep…Sheepstealer,” you sigh, “he… he...”

A gentle nod reassures you to continue as you crane your neck to look up at him.

“We wanted to fly to Dragonstone,” you sniff, panic settling in your bones again at just remembering what has happened. “Vhagar was already high up in the sky, when… and when I wanted to mount him, h… he…”

Aemond brings his hand to the back of your head and holds you against his body to calm you down. “He ate you?” he finishes the sentence for you, and you just nod hurriedly, mumbling a ‘yes‘ against his chest.

Most people, including your parents, perceive Aemond as cold and ignorant, and the gods know he can be like that. You have thought that too for the longest time, or rather from the moment he has lost his eye to the moment your courtship has been made official, but you have learned to see the genuine intent behind the things he does, hear the subtle changes in his voice, and suddenly he was just as attentive as any other man around, if not even a bit more.

Aemond kisses the crown of your head before speaking, “Your bond is strong, my love, and you know he would never do that.” And he is right. Even before you’ve bonded with Sheepstealer, the dragon never showed any ill-will toward you. He always was curious, despite the many failed attempts of claiming him other people had tried before.

“Avy jorrāelan,” you mumble. I love you.

“Avy jorrāelan,” comes the reply.

That Aemond’s grip doesn’t loosen around you makes it easier to find sleep again, and while your soft snores already fill his ears, he nuzzles his nose into your hair to take in your scent, thinking about a way to put this misery to an end.

Aemond taglist: @persephonerinyes @dr-aegon @schniiipsel @thekinslayed @baizzhu @legitalicat @eponaartemisa @peachysunrize @blackswxnn @odairtrqsh @mfedits

[hatethysinner]

hopped on the jack o’connell hype train and recently watched jungleland and might i say, seeing him play someone so desperate and broken like hello? i don’t know if you’ve seen it but if you could write a fic anything like reader helping keep him sane or piece him back tg i would love sm

ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴠᴇɴꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴀʀᴛʜ

ᴡᴄ: 2.1k

ᴀ/ɴ: surprise, i'm a huge bridgerton fan! queen charlotte is one of my favorite series of all time and i can't recommend it enough. anyway, i nearly deleted this ask not because i hated it (i loved it) but because i was at a loss of where i wanted to take the narrative. then i started thinking about how long remmick has been on this earth and i was like hmmm no one's really explored the darker side of that yet (at least as far as i know). immortality would be a nightmare and the mental toll it would take is insane to even think about let alone experience so i decided to write about that! i guess i'm just in a very angsty writing mood.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: established relationship, intense nervous breakdown, heavy angst then comfort, a little fluff never hurts

You woke to the sound of something breaking.

Not loud. Not dramatic. Just a sharp, brittle crack. Like wood splitting under too much pressure, or a bone giving way where it should’ve held.

Then the creak of the porch floorboards.

Then silence.

Not even the usual chorus of crickets. Not even the sigh of wind through the trees. Just stillness.

You sat up slowly, the sheets falling from your shoulders in a lazy hush. The air in the room had turned cool, but your skin felt flushed. Alert. Your body knew something was wrong before your mind caught up.

You blinked sleep from your eyes and held your breath, straining to hear beyond the stillness.

The bed was cold beside you.

Your hand slid across the mattress, reaching for warmth that wasn’t there. His pillow was untouched. No indent. No trace of where his head should’ve rested. Like he’d never even tried to sleep.

You already knew it was him.

Remmick hadn’t spoken much that day.

His silences had stretched too long. Those odd, bloated kinds of quiet where sound might’ve fit if it dared, but nothing did. You’d watched him slip further into his own mind with each passing hour. His eyes, sharp and unblinking, caught too often on things you couldn’t see. The corners of the room. The shadows between trees. The empty hallway outside the bathroom door.

He hadn’t eaten. Hadn’t smiled.

When you kissed him goodnight, soft, coaxing, slow, his mouth barely moved against yours. Like he was somewhere else already. Like the gesture was happening in another lifetime, and he was only half-remembering how to be there.

You swung your legs over the edge of the bed and stood barefoot, the floorboards cool beneath your soles. The old house murmured around you. Walls breathing, windows creaking in their frames, but nothing sounded alive.

You wrapped a shawl around your shoulders and stepped into the hall. Dim golden lamplight poured down the walls behind you, but ahead, the back of the house was cloaked in shadow. The screen door hung open just a crack. Just enough.

You crossed the kitchen with an urgency. A knowing.

Then you saw him.

Just past the threshold of the back door, kneeling in the dirt beneath the stars.

His shirt was half-unbuttoned and clinging to his back with sweat. Like he’d fled the house in a panic. Like something inside had grown too tight, too loud, and he’d needed air, needed space, to keep from tearing himself apart.

The wood sighed beneath your feet, but he didn’t turn. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t even seem to hear you.

He was on his knees in the dirt, his entire body drawn taut like a wire on the verge of snapping. Both hands were gripped tight to the sides of his head, fingers threaded through his hair so violently it looked like he meant to rip it out by the root.

And his mouth was moving.

At first, it sounded like muttering. Uneven, breathless, near incoherent.

But then you heard the words.

And your stomach dropped.

He wasn’t muttering.

He was pleading.

You treaded forward, slowly. The wooden porch slats groaned as you moved, but the night was louder, somehow. Even though the cicadas had stilled and the air had gone eerily quiet.

Your nightgown brushed the floorboards behind you, the fabric whispering against wood, the breeze tugging at the hem like it, too, wanted you to run.

But you didn’t.

You stepped down into the yard, grass damp beneath your feet, dirt soft and uneven. Every motion forward was careful. Slow. Not out of fear, but care. Reverence, even.

And there he was.

Not kneeling anymore.

Collapsed into the dirt, hands buried elbow-deep in the earth like he meant to rip the whole world apart. His fingernails, already dirt-caked and raw, curved into clawed, monstrous points. Blood streaked his wrists where he’d scratched too deep.

His shoulders heaved with every breath, but they weren’t full breaths. They were splintered. Shallow. Wet.

You knelt beside him, heart thudding so hard it echoed in your ears.

“Remmick.”

He didn’t hear you.

Or if he did, he didn’t know it was real.

His breath came ragged. A tremor ran the length of his arms and into his spine. His fingers clawed and clawed, dragging clumps of soil from the ground as if trying to dig something out, or bury something deeper.

“Stop it- stop- I told ya I didn’t mean to, I told ya-”

His voice cracked. Split right down the middle.

Then came the sob. The kind that didn’t sound human. That sounded like it had been fermenting somewhere inside him for years, decades, longer. A scream caught in a bottle, opened at last.

He slammed fist into the ground with full force, dirt flying. You saw the skin on his knuckles split open. No stone beneath him, just unforgiving earth.

And still he didn’t stop.

You reached for him.

He recoiled like your touch burned him, like your hand was a brand pressed to his skin. He flinched so violently his claws tore fresh tracks in the ground, eyes going wide.

“Remmick, it’s me.”

His whole body twisted away.

“I ain’t do it- I ain’t- she was already- God, I saw her-”

“It’s me,” you said again, firmer this time. “It’s just me, baby. You’re safe.”

But when he turned toward your voice, the eyes that met yours weren’t his.

They were wild. Red as fresh blood. Glowing dimly in the night like something feral had cracked its way through his skin and crawled out through his gaze. They shimmered with unshed tears, soaked already from the ones that had fallen. His mouth opened, baring his fangs, then closed, like he was trying to form a word. Trying to hold onto some anchor of the present, but none came.

He backed away on his hands like a cornered animal, limbs jerky and uneven, until his back hit the nearest porch post. He didn’t feel the splinters. Didn’t blink.

His chest rose and fell in shallow bursts. Every inhale seemed like it hurt. Sweat gleamed across his collarbones, dampening the half-unbuttoned shirt clinging to his frame. His jaw trembled, lips working without sound. Desperate.

You caught a glimpse of the gold chain around his neck, tangled and half-buried beneath the torn collar of his shirt. It glinted faintly in the moonlight, streaked with soil.

He looked at you like he didn’t know you.

Like he was seeing a ghost.

“I buried her,” he whispered. The words weren’t meant for you. “I dug and dug and she wouldn’t stop lookin’ at me, she wouldn’t shut her damn eyes-”

You didn’t hesitate.

You crawled closer. Over dirt, over roots, over whatever pain tried to rise in your chest, and took his face in both your hands.

Firm, but gentle.

Your palms settled on his jaw, thumbs grazing his wet cheekbones, skin sticky with tears and sweat.

“Remmick,” you whispered, bending low, your forehead nearly brushing his. “It’s not her. It’s me. Look at me. Look at me, baby. Come back.”

He blinked.

Once. Twice.

Hard. Like it hurt.

And then his breathing changed. Faltered.

You saw it. The exact second it happened.

His eyes focused.

His pupils, still holding that unnatural red glow, contracted. And locked on you.

The weight in his chest seemed to break. His shoulders collapsed like a building giving way to its foundation. His entire body wilted forward into yours.

He surged toward you, hands finding your sides, gripping so tight you gasped. Not in pain. Just from the suddenness. The intensity.

He clung to you like he thought you might disappear if he let go. Like the dirt might swallow you, too.

His entire frame trembled. His breath hitched. And then he sobbed against your shoulder so tightly that it almost came out as a scream. A desperate cry for help.

You cradled his head against you, one hand smoothing down the back of his neck, the other curling over the slope of his shoulder.

“I’m here,” you whispered, voice steady in the dark. “You’re not there. You’re not back there.”

He gasped against your collarbone.

“I saw her again,” he whined. “I was in that cottage. The one with the red windows. And she- I told her not to go upstairs, I told her-”

You felt it in his grip. The way his arms shook around you.

The way something inside him shattered all over again.

You didn’t ask who she was. Didn’t ask what she looked like, how she died, or why she haunted him. You didn’t try to name the ghosts.

There were too many.

And too many ways to get it wrong.

You just held him.

Held him as his entire body folded inward, as he collapsed into you like a dying star. Heat, weight, gravity, grief, all collapsing in on itself. You held him as his fingers, slick with blood and dirt, dug helplessly into your waist like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to this world.

His hands shook, and his mind, God, his mind was cracked wide open. Like a house with no walls. Like a place once meant for shelter, gutted now, everything inside laid bare to wind and time and ruin.

He clung to you in pieces. Shaking. Bleeding. Unmade.

And you stayed.

The moon hung high above you, pale and unsmiling. Watching. Bearing witness. The crickets had gone still, like even they knew this night wasn’t meant for song. Only the fireflies moved, low and slow, blinking solemn in the dark like old souls who’d seen all this before.

You kissed his temple.

“I’m right here.”

His breath stuttered.

“I can’t tell what’s real sometimes,” he choked out, voice raw and wet and fraying at the seams. “I look at ya and think maybe you’re just somethin’ I made up. That ya died too, and I just… I just pretend ya didn’t.”

Your heart cracked. Split clean through.

He said it like it had happened. Like he’d already mourned you a dozen times over. Like this moment, this warmth, this touch, might disappear if he blinked too long.

You gripped him tighter. Arms wrapping around him like roots. Like anchor lines. Like whatever it was that had tried to drag him under would have to take you too.

“Do I feel real to you now?”

He nodded fast. Too fast. Sharp jerks of his head like if he said it enough it might stay true.

His breath hitched.

“Don’t let go,” he whispered. It wasn’t soft, not really. It was broken. “Please. Don’t let go. Don’t leave me in the dark.”

“I won’t,” you said.

And you didn’t.

Not for hours.

Not when the ground beneath you grew cold and damp, biting at your knees and soaking through your nightgown. Not when your back began to ache against the porch beam, or when the cramps set into your legs, hot and numbing, from sitting too long in the dirt.

Not even when he went quiet again. Finally cried out, hollowed out, emptied of whatever storm had torn through him and left only silence behind.

You stayed.

Your hands on him like a spell. One braced on the curve of his spine, the other threading slowly through his hair, matted now with sweat and earth and moonlight. You stroked him gently, like you were winding him back together strand by strand.

You pressed your palm to the back of his neck, skin hot and clammy beneath your hand, and held it there. Just held. As if your warmth might sink deep enough to reach the part of him time hadn’t broken yet. As if maybe you could coax it forward, what little was left.

His breathing evened out eventually. Deep, but not peaceful.

The kind of breathing that came after you survived something. Not rest. Just relief.

But even then, even after the storm had passed and the night began to hush around you, he didn’t let go.

His arms stayed locked around your waist. His face still buried against your lap, breath fanning over the thin fabric stretched across your thighs. Every once in a while, a shiver would pass through him, small and involuntary, and your hand would still where it lay on his back, waiting for it to subside.

The fireflies blinked slower now. Dimming. Retreating.

The night crept toward dawn. Soft and gray at the edges.

Light seeped into the world like it wasn’t sure it was welcome.

You didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

There was nothing more to say.

You simply stayed there. Back pressed to the post, knees curled in the dirt, head leaned forward until your chin perched on the crown of his head.

He stayed in your arms like he was made to be there. Like maybe this was the only place he could be anymore.

And he held onto you like you were the last real thing in the world.

Because to him, you were.

[dameronspector]

Philophobia (Part 12)

Pairings: Joaquin Torres x Stark!Reader, Sam Wilson x Platonic!Reader, Bucky Barnes x Platonic!Reader

Chapter Summary: You have a nasty nightmare and your knight in shining armour saves you. Joaquin is perfect for you. You’re two fools in love. You are so proud of Joaquin and you’re perfect for each other. You allow yourself to he vulnerable and loved on.

Warnings: Cursing, Angst, FLUFF. SO MUCH FLUFF, Confessions, Revisiting Past, Mentions of Depression and Phobias, Panic Attacks, Sleep Paralysis, Nightmare, Reader has PTSD, Reader is guilt ridden (they’re basically a younger version of Tony ☹️), Injuries, A lil miscommunication between the love birds, Joaquin loves Reader so much, Kissing, Joaquin is whipped, Nicknames, that’s all I think!

AN: my favourite chapter I’ve ever written for this series im serious.

You opened your eyes to a dark, dreary place.

It looked like a mine shaft, or something. You weren’t sure. All you knew, was that you could smell the perspiration and damp air, a faint sound of water dripping in the distance, a bitter cold permeating your bones, the sound of wind howling and that there were loud clangs.

As if metal was colliding with metal. A mix of groans and shouts accompanied those sounds, 3 adult voices overlapping in anger and frustration.

Groaning, you sat up and looked around the place, trying to decipher where you were. You didn’t have your suit or any weapon either, so your best bet was to be as discreet as possible.

The place was filled with tanks, pipes, huge machines, which all looked abandoned and out of use.

There was still that persistent chaos in the distant, loud noises echoing through the empty place, and you decided to check it out yourself.

You followed the sounds to a room that was so cold, you had to put your hands underneath your armpits to warm yourself.

There was something odd familiar about the scene. Like you’d seen this before. Like it has happened before.

As you rounded the corner, your eyes fell on the three figures aggressively fighting each other, with the snowy mountains in the backdrop that were visible through large hole in the wall, snowflakes drifting in due to the gaping.

The glint of a red and golden armour. The clang of a metallic shield that was painted in the classic red, white and royal blue colours. A flash of a shiny metallic arm, painted with a red star on the bicep.

You let out a loud gasp.

It was your dad, Steve and Bucky fighting.

The footage from the Siberian Hydra Base, that you saw 6 years ago. The one where they almost killed each other.

“No…no! Stop!”, you called out, trying to run towards them but your legs felt like cement, firmly rooted to your place.

And at the same moment, Steve striked Tony, slamming the shield against his arc reactor and you let out a cry, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you helplessly called out for him to stop.

“No! Stop it, please. All of you, stop it!”, you raised your hands to cover your ears to close off the sounds.

They didn’t hear you.

“(Name)”

Steve kept hitting Tony.

“Steve, Stop!”

“(Name)!”

Tony blasted Bucky’s arm off.

“No! Dad—I’m sorry, Buck, I’m-”

“(NAME)!”

You snapped your eyes open, breath coming out in harsh gasps.

Gone was the hydra base. Gone were the three men fighting to death in front of you. Gone was the biting cold.

Instead, warmth. Soft bed sheets. A toasty, cosy room and the comforting scent of citrus hit your nose.

Joaquin’s beautiful and worried face hovered above you, his gentle hands were resting on your shoulders and his eyes fluttered across your face in concern, pink lips tugged into a frown.

You blinked your eyes quickly to get rid of the daze and tears, looking up at Joaquin and around the room in confusion.

Was that a nightmare or sleep paralysis?

Joaquin’s warm hand came up to rest on your heated cheek, thumb brushing away stray tears.

“Hey, it’s okay. I got you, sweetheart”, he murmured softly, eyes tracking your every move.

You swallowed against the lump in your throat, slowly grounding yourself by grasping his wrist tightly.

“I-I need to-”, you rasped, moving to sit up as Joaquin’s hand slid from your cheek to support your back instead, helping you settle against the head board.

You inhaled deeply and buried your head in your hands, digging the heels of them in your eyes to get rid of the nightmare that still clinged to you. The sounds of their screams, their metals, the howling of the wind, rung in your ears like a bell.

Cringing at how you’d embarrassed yourself in front of him again, you began apologising to Joaquin.

“Sorry. For this crap again, I’m-”

“What? No. Why are you apologising?”, he cut you off, hands resting on your knee in support, his voice pitched high in an incredulous tone. Like you’d personally offended him.

“I keep piling this on you…the constant panic attacks and shit. You don’t—you don’t have to look after me, Joaquin. I’m sorry, I keep putting you in such situations where you have to basically babysit me like- like I’m a fucking child”, you groaned, your voice muffled in your palms.

Joaquin frowned. How can you talk about yourself like this? Like you’re some burden?

“Can you please look at me?”, he quietly asked, wrapping a careful hand around your wrist.

“No.”

He sighed and shuffled closer to you, pressing his knees to yours and he crowded your space and gently tugged at your hands.

“Angel, come on”, he pleaded.

You paused. There was that nickname, again. And that got your attention enough to look up at him. He grinned softly.

“Why do you keep calling me that?”, you grumbled.

He blushed. His whole face turned a bright shade of red.

You smiled crookedly.

You were so close, that if any one of you moved even an inch, your lips would meet.

“Uh-don’t change the topic. Listen to me first”, he chided, albeit nervously, coughing at the end of his sentence before holding your hands in his, placing them on his thigh.

“I’m- I don’t ‘babysit’ you. I stay with you, willingly, because I care for you. Because I want to look after you. Because I-”, he licked his lips in nervousness, eyes focusing on your joined hands, thumbs caressing the back of yours.

“Because I hate seeing you in pain. If I could, I would take away all your pain, and shoulder it all on me.”

You stared at him, perplexed.

How can he just randomly say such deep and heart warming things out of nowhere? He surprised you everyday with his sensitivity and empathy.

He looked up and saw that your eyes were tearing up, again.

“Wait-wait wait, did I say something wrong? I’m sorry”, he sputtered, leaving a hand to wipe your tears away.

You let out a wet giggle and sniffled, Joaquin pausing in his movements and staring at you with wide eyes, drinking in how beautiful you looked, even with tears wetting your face and the low light of the room making it glow. That’s exactly why he called you ‘angel.’

If Sam or Bucky were here, they would’ve teased him for having actual heart eyes.

“No, you dumbass. You’re just-”, you sighed, looking at him with a smile stretching on your lips.

“You’re really cute, Torres.”

Joaquin’s mouth parted before he giggled, ducking his head shyly.

“Thank you. For everything”, you breathed out, hesitant hands squeezing his sure ones.

He looked up, a sweet smile lightening up his face, the moles around his mouth and cheeks raising up like checkpoints for you to trace.

“There’s a little somethin’…”, he suddenly pointed at his cheeks, signalling you about the same.

You frowned, “What? Where?”, raising a hand to wipe whatever was on your face, turning your head to the side.

Joaquin smirked at having successfully distracted you, before taking the opportunity to dive in and press a lingering kiss to your cheek.

You squealed as his lips puckered against your skin and departed with a loud smack.

“What was that for?!”, you whispered in surprise.

Joaquin simply shrugged and tugged you closer, your head tucked in the space between his neck and shoulder, a huge sigh leaving your mouth.

His arms embraced you oh so sweetly, the warmth of them almost lulling you back to sleep. He laid his cheek by your hairline, slowly rocking you back and forth.

It was quiet for a while, your breath hitting his collarbones in a warm kiss, his steady breathing and arms acting as a balm for the terror you’d experienced when you suddenly remembered about the new accessory he was wearing.

“You wear those glasses for fashion purposes or you actually need them?”, you murmured against his throat.

He froze, breath hitching for a moment.

“They’re prescribed”, he grumbled like a child, his lips brushing against your skin.

You snorted quietly, “What was that about?”

He stayed silent. You furrowed your brows and pulled away from him slightly, lifting your head to look at the pout on his face.

“Alright, who stole your candy?”, you teased, his hands splayed on your back, yours fisting in his shirt.

He whined. He actually whined like a petulant toddler.

“‘Cause they look stupid. I look like I should be in a chemistry lab instead of the Air Force.”

You stared at him for a beat before bursting out in giggles.

“You—stop laughing! That’s not funny, they make me look like a fuckin’ nerd and I can’t not wear them, because I can’t see without them”, he groaned, poking your stomach lightly.

You only giggled louder.

“Oh, come on!”, he grumbled and lightly pushed you away, careful not to be too rough.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!”, you held his hands by his firm chest, looking up at his pretty, spectacled face intensely, a sliver of smile still lingering on your lips. He furrowed his brows, a crease appearing in between them.

“You’re an idiot, because they only make you look prettier, Quino.”

It was comical how quickly his expression changed, making him look like a deer in headlights, his brown eyes blown wide like a newborn fawn, the glasses only enhancing their beauty.

It should’ve been a crime how gorgeous Joaquin Torres was, because he was ruining your life.

That familiar pink dust took over Joaquin’s face again, his heart racing against your interlaced hands on his chest as his eyes fluttered across your face.

He was slowly leaning in, your breathing faster as you half shut your eyes in anticipation and the moment was broken by the loud sound of his phone, the two of you jumping apart, your faces heating up.

“I uh—I’ve to take- must be Sam-”, he stuttered, reluctantly releasing your hands.

You pursed your lips and nodded, clearing your throat, “Yeah-yeah, of course.”

Joaquin nodded tersely before walking back to the couch, answering his phone right away.

“Hey, Sam. What’s up…—-Yeah, sure.

You guys alright?

Okay, that’s good.

Will bring some first aid—Yep. See you. Bye.”

You looked at Joaquin expectantly after he ended the call.

“They’re asking us to meet at that GRC camp in 15, with some first aid. They…got into an altercation with Walker. Sam said they’ll share the rest when we get there”, he sighed.

You nodded in understanding.

“I’ll freshen up till then, hope that’s okay?”, you asked while getting off the bed.

“Of course, please. I’ll pack the supplies. Take your time, angel”, he softly replied, the slip up going unnoticed by him.

You blushed and nodded hastily, rushing into the bathroom with a change of clothes.

-

So, in the 15 minutes spent inside the bathroom, you’d changed in a comfortable pair of trousers and a sleeveless shirt, your dad’s leather jacket layered on top and outside the bathroom, Joaquin had received a call from his team leader that he’d have to go back on a mission with them. And he’d have to go back tonight itself.

Joaquin was a hardworking man. And he was disciplined, even if he didn’t look like it at times. He made sure he fulfilled all of his duties promptly and perfectly. Be it working for Sam or doing his job as a soldier, he wasn’t someone who slacked for no reason.

But, the thought of leaving you behind, especially after the nightmare you’d had today, was making an ache spread across his chest and lungs, capturing over his heart fully.

He’d seen the way your body had seized up before erupting in tremors, and the sobs, oh god, the painful sobs that left your mouth, they were unbearable to witness for him.

All he wanted to do, was keep you close to him. Your funny and witty quips, your attempts at hiding your blush away from him, your sweet smile and contagious laughter, yojr strength and courage—you had him completely. And he wasn’t sure he could handle leaving you behind while you suffered alone.

His throat hurt with a truth that he’s known for a long time.

He loved you. So much.

He wasn’t sure, how to break the news to you, because he would have wear his army uniform and you’d know, right away.

“Joaquin?”

And there you were. Looking as radiant as ever, your sharp eyes observing his tensed body language closely.

He almost smiled in adoration. You were too intelligent and observant to be lied to. And he was too gone for you to be able to lie to you without fumbling.

You quirked an eyebrow.

“Are you okay?”

There it was.

You slowly made your way over to him, standing right in front of him as he kept staring at you the whole time.

“Yeah, why?”, he asked casually.

“Dunno. You’re all tense and stuff. And you’re rubbing your fingers against each other so, you either did something stupid or you wanna say something”, you shrugged.

He chuckled in disbelief at your observation of him, “Are you that obsessed with me?”

You glared at him half heartedly, “Oh, you’re soooo funny. Just say it, flyboy.”

Joaquin’s smile disappeared, a sad little look taking over his face, lips tugged into a frown and eyes flickering across the room, avoiding your gaze at all costs.

“I uh—I’ve to go.”

You blinked, “You have to go? Where?”

He cleared his throat, putting his hands on his hips and staring at his feet, “They’ve called me in for a mission.”

It was your turn to frown, as you still couldn’t catch on, “Who? Sam?”

Joaquin let out a humourless chuckle, before finally meeting your eyes.

“No, angel. My team leader has called me in. I gotta go to DC. Got a meeting there, and then a mission in Dubai.”

You paused, your heart falling into a pit as you took the information in.

“…When are you leaving?”, you asked hesitantly.

He sighed, a hand dragging down his face, “Tonight. Don’t know when I’ll return.”

“Oh”, you whispered, a hand coming up to massage the inside of your wrist where you could feel your heart beat, eyes darting across the room in unease.

“Yeah”, he said quietly, glossy eyes looking at you in adoration and longing, body coiled tightly in tension and anticipation.

You swallowed, tightening your hand around your wrist before exhaling gently.

“Well, good luck, Jay”, you tried to give him a smile. It came off as jagged and fake.

Joaquin frowned, his heart stuttering to a halt in his rib cage. Had he read it wrong? Did you not feel as deeply for him, as he did for you? Did you not feel like your heart was going to explode in pain from the thought of separating with each other, like his own heart did?

No. That can’t be it. You’d never play with someone’s feelings like this.

“You-you’ll be okay?”, his voice fragile with worry, hands twitching to bring you close to him.

You sniffled before looking up at him, expression schooled into a calm and relaxed look, years of PR training making it easier for you to slip back into that persona.

As if this didn’t just break your heart. As if your body wasn’t having a weird reaction to separating from him for god knows how long.

“Always”, and you flashed him that classic ‘I’m-actually-not-okay-but-I-have-to-act-like-it-so-that-I-don’t-freak-out’ smile.

Thanks for the acting skills, dad, you thought.

Joaquin blinked in surprise, pursing his lips as he nodded tersely to dissipate the awkwardness, “Yeah-yeah. Cool. That’s great”, he gave you a tight lipped smile.

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence before you decided to speak up.

“We should leave. They’re probably injured, so..”, you trailed off.

“Yes. Uh-let’s leave”, he agreed, hands busying themselves with picking up the first aid and his bags.

You pursed your lips and walked out of the room, leaving him standing there, staring at your retrieving figure longingly. The same dejecting thoughts choking him: Had he just messed this up? Did he read it all wrong? He wasn’t that naïve, right?

He desperately hoped he wasn’t because he wouldn’t survive the heartbreak, at all.

-

As soon as you entered the camp, your eyes fell on Bucky and Sam’s bruised faces. Bucky’s were already healing a bit, all thanks to his serum. Sam’s face was still covered in blue and purple splotches, a slight limp in his walk.

“What the hell happened?”, you announced as you made your way to them, Joaquin lingering by a police officer as he assessed the situation.

Sam and Bucky exchanged looks.

“Well, we beat Walker’s ass and then he proceeded to beat ours, so”, Bucky deadpanned in that bored tone of his.

Sam clicked his tongue in annoyance, “Man, come on.”

You narrowed your eyes at Bucky, “I know that, smartass. Why did you do that, is what I’m asking.”

“We tried talking him down. He’s gone insane. Didn’t listen to a word and just started throwin’ hands”, Sam sighed.

You clenched your jaw, “Someone needs to get that loser arrested.”

Sam scoffed, Bucky shook his head.

“Well, what about Karli?”, you prodded.

“The GRC is conducting raids to try and find Karli, but so far they’ve only found her followers. They’ve searched this camp, and just like the last camp, nothing. She’s gone. We’ll never find her”, Sam rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Joaquin walked over, standing next to you before pointing at Bucky.

“Hey, you got your sleeve back. Are you off to take care of Zemo?”

You snorted. Joaquin felt his heart lurch at that.

Bucky didn’t find that funny, so he just walked away, irritated.

“All right, good to know you survived”, Joaquin quipped, watching Bucky walk away.

Sam sighed.

“Don’t mind him”, you consoled Joaquin and squeezed his arm. Joaquin stared at you in yearning.

“What’s our next steps, Torres?”, Sam asked, dropping a bag by the table.

Joaquin shrugged, “Captain America killing a foreign national in public, it’s kinda like a big deal. Like international incident big. Folks, uh, higher up on the payroll are all over it now. So, unfortunately… they’re taking jurisdiction”, he was relaying all the information like a computer, his eyes trained on the bag that Sam had dropped, circling it slowly.

“Yeah”, Sam rasped, leaning back against the table.

You kept your eyes on Joaquin, taking in his curious movements.

He picked up the bag, “What happened to these?”, muttering in concern before setting the bag on top of the table opposite you, the bag opening to display Sam’s falcon wings.

They’d broken down. Again.

You furrowed your brows in concern, walking over to stand by Joaquin, “Oh, they need a complete do-over”, you mumbled absently.

Sam watched you two fuss over the wings in amusement. Both of you had the same expression on your faces.

“So is there anything we can do?”, he asked Joaquin.

“Not really. As you can see, they’ve cordoned off the whole camp, and Karli’s a ghost. After what went down, she is laying extra low. Like, under-underground”, Joaquin pursed his lips in thought before continuing.

Sam shook his head, “And that’s why it makes sense for us to get involved. The longer we let her regroup, the harder it’s gonna be to find her. She’s got people helping her from all over the world, on all platforms.”

Joaquin pursed his lips, “She’s really, really good at this thing.”

“Yeah”, Sam agreed.

You stood there, zoned out, because you were too busy admiring how good he looked in that uniform. The only man to do so.

The conversation you’d had sometime ago was still fresh, and a strange limbo had set over you two. One where there were awkward silences and a thick tension, but your quips and jokes didn’t end.

Joaquin turned his attention back to the wings, “How’d these break?”

His concern for the wings was absolutely adorable, making a tiny smile break out on your face as Sam caught his fixation with the wings, too, and he merely sighed in exhaustion.

And then, he decided to say something in that low, laid back voice of his, that made you feel like you should’ve kissed him stupid when you had the chance to.

“Anyway, all we can do now is sit tight and just chill. Sometimes, there’s nothing to do until there’s something to do.”

You stared at him wide eyed, your expression softened with fondness for this man.

Sam caught that, a knowing smirk stretching across his lips.

“That’s bizarrely wise”, he teased Joaquin, who let out a bashful laugh, his bright teeth fully on display, brown eyes shining like warm pools of honey and cheeks sweetly swollen.

“Well, I’m a bizarrely wise man, Sam.”

You were gone for.

Your heart did a back flip, stomach erupted in butterflies, your chest overflowing with a sudden wave of admiration, happiness and—

Love.

The thought was so overwhelming, that you weren’t sure if you wanted to cry, scream or laugh. Maybe all three.

Was it the impending separation? Or was this just an amalgamation of all the suppressed emotions and feelings you’d been harbouring against him ever since you met him?

“Yeah, all right”, Sam joined in the chuckles before patting Joaquin on the back.

“Thanks, Torres.”

Joaquin grinned, “For sure.”

“(Name)?”

You jumped as Sam’s voice snapped you out of your daydreaming, Joaquin looking over to you in worry.

“Yeah?”, you cleared your throat.

Sam gave you a look.

“Say your goodbyes and come find me”, he suggested, a hand resting over your shoulder, eyes shining with something mischievous, as if he knew what was happening.

You nodded fervently, “Yep. I will.”

Sam gave you a smile and walked away, before Joaquin called him back, “Wait, yo, you forgot the wings.”

Sam paused, looking at you and Joaquin before grinning like a cheshire cat.

Your heart raced against your chest.

“Keep ’em”, Sam announced before walking away, leaving behind an awe-struck Joaquin and an ecstatic you.

Because what do you mean, two of the most important men in your life were finally ready to own who they’re meant to be?

You couldn’t stop the huge smile from splitting your face, turning around to watch as Joaquin ran his hands across the wings, the motion so delicate, so full of admiration and respect, that it made your eyes brim with tears.

The conversation you’d had with him in Berlin and back at Sam’s apartment, still ringing in your ears. How fondly he’d spoke of wanting to be like Sam, how he wanted to fly and be as free as Sam was. How he wants to help the underdogs.

Your lungs expanded with pride and love, so much love, for this ambitious, determined, kind and beautiful man.

You nudged him with your shoulder, bringing his attention to you.

“You’ve got tough competition in the skies, bird boy. You better pull up your socks”, you joked, your voice a little shaky.

His glassy eyes narrowed, before he laughed in realisation, nudging you back gently.

“I’ve got a good instructor”, he teased back, the air around you sticky with lightness and warmth, while you bit the inside of your cheek to keep the huge smile from breaking out.

-

The warmth didn’t last long, as it was soon the time for goodbye.

Maybe you were being dramatic. But you’d wanted him to be with you, instead of going off in some other country where you had no ways to check on him, unless he got the clearance to.

The dull ache in your chest returned, blooming across your entire body as you got closer and closer to the door of the camp, where he’d be picked up by a military issued escort.

He wasn’t doing any better, his hands were constantly fidgeting with the straps of his bags, eyes darting around the place like a ping pong ball bouncing off a table, his shoulders brushing with yours every now and then.

The tension was thick. One of you had to say something before any of you did something stupid.

“So, that’s me”, he murmured as the two of you neared the main entrance.

You gave him a tight lipped smile, “Yeah. I-Take care, Joaquin.”

Joaquin stared at you, “Yeah, I will.”

You turned your head to the side to avoid looking at him.

He cleared his throat, “No hugs for me?”, he joked, voice lilting with hope.

You hesitated.

He took it in the wrong way. Shaking his head in dejection, he began walking towards the car when you suddenly grabbed his wrist, the one holding the wings.

He whipped his head around to look at you.

“Wait. I’m—It’s not-”, your voice wavered. You took a minute to breathe before continuing, hand still holding his wrist, thumb pressed again his racing heart beat.

His mouth fell open. You pursed your lips, closing your eyes in an attempt to gather your thoughts.

“Okay. I’m not-I’m not good at this. Expressing my feelings, I mean. But I’m gonna try. For you. Because if I don’t say it now, I won’t ever. Can I?”, you let out in a breath, eyes wide with request.

Joaquin was stunned, but he managed to give you a nod, eyebrows creased in anticipation and confusion, both.

You released his hand, putting them in the pockets of your jacket instead for comfort.

“Well. You—everything that you’ve done for me so far, it’s meant a lot to me, Joaquin. I-I don’t know what I did to deserve your kindness, when I’ve been nothing but off putting since we met but, I appreciate it a lot.”

Joaquin tensed. This was the moment where you tell him that you only see him as a friend. As a shoulder to cry on. And that he’d been way too clingy.

You continued, eyes trained at your shoes, “And um-you’ve become very special to me”, your voice cracked at ‘special’.

Joaquin’s heart thundered.

“I just want you to know that I-uh…I like you. A lot. More than I should or deserve.”

Joaquin was dead, he was sure. He was imagining it, right?. There’s no way you returned his feelings, right? He couldn’t even move if he wanted to.

“I understand if-if you don’t wanna pursue this further but-I just-”

“Stop”, he blurted out abruptly.

You jumped, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Sorry, sorry-I just-stop. Please. Give me a second-” he sputtered, dropping the bags on the floor with a dull thud, hands coming up to rest on your face.

You stared at him in shock, glossy eyes wide and mouth agape, hands resting on his elbows to steady yourself.

“Okay, first of all. Don’t talk about yourself like that, angel, please”, he murmured, face set into a deep frown as if the mere thought of someone bad mouthing you hurt him.

Your lips twitched.

“And, ‘if I don’t wanna pursue this’? I’ve been waiting for you to say this, are you serious? Like, I’d made my peace with the fact that you might not like me back, and I was ready to wait for you, even then. (Name)-”, he broke out in a fit of disbelieving giggles, his eyes shining with earnestness and adoration, hands bringing your face closer to his.

“What?”, you blurted out, heart stopping momentarily, hands coming up to grasp his wrists.

“You’re a beautiful, beautiful fool. But you’re my beautiful fool”, he breathed out, his brown eyes never leaving your face for even a second, thumbs smoothing out the skin beneath your eyes, while your bottom lip wobbled a bit.

Then he continued with a shaky voice.

“I like you, too. So much”, you felt your eyes brim with tears.

“It’s kinda funny, because Sam and Bucky have been on my ass to ask you out since forever. In fact, Sam was personally steering the ship to get us to start dating”, he chuckled towards the end of it.

You scrunched your nose and grumbled, “Oh, I know, those two have been very nosy lately.”

Joaquin smiled, eyes twinkling with joy.

You looked at him shyly, brushing away a stray curl from his forehead before brushing your hand through the buzzed side of his hair, tangling it into the curls after.

He leaned into it like a cat asking for more pets.

“I just—”

You couldn’t finish your sentence further, because Joaquin put a hand on the nape of your neck and pushed you closer, smashing his lips onto yours and drawing out a squeal from you.

His other hand wrapped around your waist, bringing you impossibly closer to his chest, the hand on your neck warm and steady, him dipping you a little to kiss you deeper, nose smushed against yours.

Your hand fully disappeared into the curls at the back of his head, nails scratching at his scalp, which drew a content hum from him, your other hand fisting his shirt at the chest.

He was, basically, devouring you, but in a gentle and loving way that only Joaquin was capable of. His soft, plush lips massaging yours with equal parts tenderness and fervour. At one point he swiped his tongue on your bottom lip, swallowing the quiet moan that escaped your mouth before you two had to separate for air.

Both of you were breathless, foreheads leaning against each other, your eyes still closed as if you were trying to commit this moment to memory.

Joaquin nudged your nose with his, a hand curling behind your ear to keep you there.

Your chin quivered as the situation loomed over you again, bringing a shaky hand up to cup his jaw tenderly, pulling away slightly to see his face better, he had a dopey expression on his face, drunk on your lips and devotion for you, his cheeks were splotched in that familiar pink colour again.

“You can’t say all that, and kiss me like that, just to run away in the next few minutes”, you teased in a wobbly voice.

His face fell, eyebrows creasing tightly as if your words had physically harmed him. Eyes wide and heart beating faster than ever, he started rambling away, hands cradling your face back in his palms.

“Wait, no no no. I’m- I’m sorry. I didn’t request to be on this mission or anything, I swear, all I wanna do is be next to you but, you know how it is, I can’t say no because—”

You cut him off with a firm kiss to his lips, shutting him up effectively, as he returned it gently.

“I know, Quino. I get it. I just…I’m just gonna miss you, is all”, you circled your arms around his neck, burying your fingers in the curls at his nape, keeping your gaze trained at his collarbones to avoid eye contact.

A gentle hand raised your head back up, brown pools of honey looking into your glassy ones with full attention.

“I know. Me too, angel. I’ll miss you so much, I’m gonna lose my mind. But I’ll be back before you know it, I swear. I’ll try to contact you as much as I can, hm? Is that okay with you?”, his low, slightly scratchy voice mumbled, thumb running back and forth on your jawline.

Swallowing your tears and sudden neediness, you nodded, pushing forward to press a lingering kiss to his heated cheek, and he leaned into it, keeping you there with his strong arms going around your waist.

He was dangerous, because he was turning you into a pile of mush, a part of yours that had been dormant for a while now. But he made you feel safe, your body automatically craving for his warmth and soft embrace, as if it was a balm for all of your troubles and pains.

And you weren’t going to fight it.

The last time you had missed out on saying things, it’s cost you three of your family members and a person you loved dearly. You’re not missing out on the chance to freely love this amazing man in front of you.

“Come back to me soon, bird boy. I’ll be waiting”, you whispered against his ear, pulling him in for a tight hug, your face buried in his neck.

He splayed his hands on your back, a content sigh leaving his mouth as he pressed his face into your shoulder, lips slightly puckered to press a kiss to it.

He’d almost said it today. Almost. But your comfort was more important to him, so he’ll shut up and wait until you’re ready to say it. He’s more than happy to wither away and wait for you, than scare you away and feel like dying.

The car’s horn made you jump apart from each other, Joaquin holding your hands tightly in his before lifting his bags up. You watched him with a fond smile.

“What?”, he asked as he adjusted his bag, grinning at you in a goofy way.

You smiled and shook your head, “Nothing. I’m really happy for you. Nobody deserves them more than you”, you referred to the wings.

He froze, a slight wet sheen coating his eyes before he whined, “You’re not making this easier, angel.”

You chuckled and ruffled his hair, “Sorry, sorry.”

He moved in close to press three feverish kisses to your lips and one on your cheek, before running away towards the car.

Not even 10 seconds later, you received a text from him:

Flyboy: wait, we’re dating now, right? Like, relationship dating and not casual-limbo dating?

You snorted. He was ridiculously cute.

You: idek where do u pick up those terms from, but yes ofcourse ☺️

Flyboy: ok that’s good thank god 🙏

Flyboy: i made that up

Flyboy: miss u already 😘

Blushing furiously, you sent back a heart and practically skipped over to Sam, feeling lighter than you ever did in the last few years.

-

BONUS

Joaquin let out a giddy laugh at your texts, replaying the kiss and your tender touch, your praise and adoration for him, the way you looked so vulnerable in front of him, and he thought: he was honoured to be able to see you like this.

Happy, bright, smiling and not afraid to express yourself.

Like you’d finally let yourself be cared for and loved on. Like you’d ser yourself free.

And oh, he’ll do anything to protect you against anything wrong.

His cheeks hurt with how much he’d been smiling, how you’d look like you were more happy than him about the wings and how you’d initiated the hug. He felt like he was lit up from inside.

And you’d find out later, that your contact name in Joaquin’s phone was saved as ‘Girasol 🌻’ because you were his light.

Part 13

-

AN: THEY R MY BABIES.

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[millersfinest]

WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE | 1

ELLIE WILLIAMS, YELLOWJACKETS AU, SERIES!

SERIES MASTERLIST

001 — When You’re Gone wc: 14.4k

chapter blurb: the struggles of a soon-to-be high school graduate was rough—leaving home, leaving the girl you love behind knowing you weren’t strong enough to love her aloud; it was fear inducing. however, not as fear inducing as the sounds of a plane breaking down while in the air with you and everyone you care about inside of it. now, that was bone chilling! it’s the beginning of many, many, many nightmares to come.

cw: use of the word ‘dyke’, r and ellie being teenage lover girls, closeted abby, dramatic teenage girls, reader is working on her internalized homophobia, sarah miller, ellie being the best non-girlfriend ever, mention of a teacher/student relationship, plane crash, character deaths, reader lowkey has main-character syndrome, ellie/abby beef, reader calls her dad ‘daddy’ because she’s southern-ish (because it’s the midwest technically), 90’s accurate alcohol, little bit of r and ellie angst.

note: omg this is the first chapter in the summer act! by the time you guys see this, all of the parts for this act should be finished and queued for weekly releases (if i hold myself accountable)(i didn't but i refuse to sit on this). after i watched yellowjackets i immediately thought about ellie for obvious reasons. happy valentine’s day and happy yellowjackets s3 premiere day hehehe. hope you guys enjoy!! (if you wanna be added to the taglist, pls feel free to fill out this taglist form) also... if you see a typo, no you didn't!

The woody smell of a forest was never a comfort for you; however it wasn’t a disrupter either. Like most people, you loved the smell of flowers, fresh plants, the aroma, and texture of fresh soil—but you didn’t care for it enough to linger within it. Haunt the spaces between the tree, to feel a sense of connection to the Earth. That wasn’t the type of person you were. It didn’t mean that much to you. Although, you signed many petitions to save the trees. Save the wilderness. She had a right to be preserved.

The layered sounds of cheering echoed through the gymnasium as you and your team ran in a line toward the middle of the court. Grins adorned your faces, waving and pumping up the crowd like you were used to. Cameras flashed from the sidelines, snapping pictures of the celebration of Jackson Hole High’s victory. The Fireflies have been invited to Boston to participate in a national championship.

You’re fucking going to nationals in Boston!

Nearing the end of your senior year, with college looming at your door, it felt good that you could have one last hurrah with your favorite girls—loosely including the junior varsity players who were waiting for your dismissal so they could move up.

Loving every member of the team was hard, but you truly did; they were your sisters. Minus one faithful central striker who stood before you on the field. It would be weird to call her your sister since you’ve been sucking each other’s faces off since sophomore year.

The both of you may have been an okay pair off the field, but on the field… You were perfectly unstoppable! She was fast, while you were tactful. Even though, you were surrounded by supportive players who were eager to make a goal—a lot of times, it felt as though it were just the two of you.

You couldn’t help but be a romantic when it came to her. She was always determined to put on a show—a good show, at that. The eighteen-year-old had a reputation to uphold: mean, small town lesbian. But she was so much more than that. Under the many course layers of being a skillful forwarder, a notable lover of female company, and totally hot; she also respected the bounds of science, had an obsessive amount of Savage Starlight memorabilia, and has the intention of becoming an astrophysicist in the future. She wanted to become a scientist for the sake of the game, not to make a shit ton of money.

However, despite all of this good, there was a minor wooden hedge that kept the two of you at an arms length distance from each other.

And here’s the real kicker… You’re not one hundred percent out to the public about your sexuality. Therefore, in the past three years you’ve been sharing with this beloved girl, it’s all been experienced under pressured wraps. You didn’t necessarily hide your attraction from women—you just hated feeling other in your hometown. While you were cocky about your soccer skills, you didn’t harbor that same meanness to protect yourself when it came to who you romanticized.

Jackson Hole, or Jackson, was a town that was surrounded by elements of the Earth—right beside Yellowstone Park—there were so many other things to talk about than the fact that you were a lesbian. But that just wasn’t how small towns worked. Perhaps, it was a born and bred thing. Whenever you were born or bred into a small town, you activate this gene that forces you to be interested in everyone’s lives but your own. People from your town loved a spectacle.

And to be fair, hanging out with Ellie Williams was spectacle enough.

There were rumors that the two of you were gay for each other—that you were hooking up in hidden places. You never confirmed or denied whenever you were boldly asked. Unless your parents were pressing you about being out so late. Those claims were dead on, though!

Now, your parents were in on the whole thing, and they loved her. They were so supportive of the relationship that you sometimes thought they loved her more than you. She was labeled spunky in their eyes.

But, with all this considered, she wasn’t your girlfriend. She was just a girl that happened to be yours; someone you kept all for yourself. And Ellie being Ellie, didn’t always appreciate that phrase. It wasn’t until this year that she became indifferent to it.

“Let’s congratulate our varsity Fireflies for being chosen for nationals!” The principal of the student body praised over the choppy, cracking microphone. He had called your names out one by one, getting you onto that shiny, scuffed basketball court. Coach Tess Servopoulos stood at the head of the line, while the assistant coach, Owen Moore, stood at the other end. Accompanied by the soccer manager, Mel Teagan.

The pep rally was fast, and you were standing around the quad before you knew it, discussing a course of action for a junior varsity player who was good but not great. She lagged during games whenever she was brought on as a substitute—failing to take initiative to score. Since tomorrow was the morning that you were leaving for Boston, Coach Moore decided on throwing a scrimmage between varsity and junior varsity as a fun arrangement. However, some of the girls found this to be a moment of opportunity.

“I think we should push Lucy a little bit…” The auburn-haired player suggested, crossing her arms over her chest. Surrounded by her trusty friend group: you, Riley, Dina, and Cat.

You bunch your eyebrows, glancing at the other girls. “What do you mean by push ‘er?”

“I don’t know, make her actually work for her position.” Ellie responded, shrugging her shoulders. They all just looked at her, waiting for her to further explain. “If she’s coming with us to Boston as a substitute, she needs to work harder than just kicking a fucking ball around.”

“And she barely even does that…” Riley added, snickering, letting her eyes wander around the quad.

Cat put her hands on her hips, rocking on her feet. “If this includes physically pushing her, then I’m out.”

Ellie shook her head, holding out her hand. “Nah, that’s my job if it comes down to it.”

Dina deepened her eyebrows, squeezing her eyes shut. “So, what are we gonna do? Ice her out the whole game?”

“Yeah,” She nodded. “Only pass the ball to each other— everyone on the team except for her. Maybe it’ll finally get her to fight for a score.”

You puffed air from you lips in thought, glancing over your shoulder, uneasy. As captain of the team—yeah, you were team captain—it wasn’t ideal that you were plotting against your own. Although, she was junior varsity, it didn’t change the fact that she was a Firefly. You just wished that Lucinda Henderson did more for her team—she needs to learn to play aggressively not passively. That’s how you score. That’s how you win.

A sigh flees your mouth, peering at the central striker with narrowed eyes. “If you’re gonna push her, do it safely… I cannot afford to have a hurt freshman on my conscious.” You tiredly spoke, preparing to walk away, but Ellie grabbed your hand before you could leave the small huddle.

“Seriously, what do you think I’m capable of?”

You placed your hand over hers, squeezing, gently. “You’re different on the field… Just remember that, okay?” Sliding your hand from hers, you glance to the other girls. “I have to go run a few things over with Abby. See you in a few.”

Ellie scoffed as you trotted away, seeing your goalie talking on a bench with some bashful cheerleader. “Hey, Abs, can we talk for a sec?” You question, not giving her much of a choice by walking past the bench she was sat on, perching yourself beside a tree.

From a distance, you could feel the eyes of your undercover lover watching you from her spot. Her lips moved, still engaging in conversation about Lucy Henderson, probably, but her olive eyes remained on you. Whenever you had these sidebars with Abby, she tensed. Ellie rarely talks about why Abby gets under her skin so easily—you wondered if it was intimidation, or worse, jealousy.

Abby rolled her eyes, muttering a quick farewell to the cheerleader. “What now?” She perked an eyebrow, crossing her muscular arms.

“Don’t what now me. You think I didn’t notice those eyes you were giving to the coach?” You prodded, authoritatively. “What did I say about him— fucking drop him!”

The blonde groaned like a stubborn child. “Can’t you just mind your business, Turner?” Abby retorted. “I get that you’re captain an’ everything, but that doesn’t mean you have the right to poke your nose in things that don’t involve you.”

“You know, this is a crime, right? Statutory rape—“

“Ugh, you’re always so serious. I’m eighteen.”

“Yeah, but you’re still a student here, and he’s an instructor.” You placed your hands on your hips. “Do you wanna be on the front-page paper listed as a victim? I wonder what that would look like when you’re playing pro in a few years…”

A sneer stretched onto her lips. “Couldn’t be as bad as being called a dyke by ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the population.”

“Says the two-hundred-pound, six-foot goalie who was just flirting with Calliope Kimber…”

She stiffened, averting her eyes from you. “I wasn’t flirting…”

You chuckled behind your fingers, sizing her up. “You totally were.” With a perched eyebrow, you analyzed her features. Blue eyes shifting, twinged with bothered nerves at the mention of her behavior. “I don’t care if you’re using a man to hide behind, Abby. But I do care about the legacy of our team.” You began, nudging her arm. “Plus, Coach Moore is annoying as shit. If I were you, Henry Harmon would be more of my shtick.”

Abby shook her head, her long braid falling over her shoulder. “You’re such a control freak…” She muttered, sucking her teeth.

“Or I’m just a very passionate person.”

“Nope… You’re a control freak.”

“Okay, whatever, Popeye. God.” You hold up a dismissive hand.

The both of you walk around the school to the soccer field to prep for the scrimmage Coach Moore was hosting. You sat on the ground stretching and ensuring your laces were tight and knotted. Some of the junior varsity team sat around doing the same thing, conversing amongst each other.

Ellie, Riley, Dina and Cat joined the group as if they had something up their sleeve—not paying much of attention to the young coach marking on a clipboard. The auburn-haired player plopped herself beside you. Like usual, you adjusted yourself to do an assisted stretch with her, touching your straddled feet together and pulling each other’s hands like a seesaw. “How different am I on the field— what did you mean by that?” She asked, pulling you forward, causing her to lean backwards.

“Uhm, Ellie, you’re a threat on the field to anyone who isn’t on your team.” You pulled her forward, causing you to lean back, smiling in amusement.

“I’m not a threat, just a girl who takes her sport very seriously.” She shrugged, pulling you forward again.

You laugh, pulling her forward, but this time inching your hands up her arms so you wouldn’t lean back so far from her. “No, babe, you’re definitely a threat. But… I like that about you.” You bat your eyes at her, playfully.   

She smirked, glancing down at your lips in such an obvious way. A way that you couldn’t give much attention to—at least, not in the way you wanted. “Well, then… I guess I’m the worst of threats— the most threatening girl in the world.”

You snickered, sliding your hands back down to her hands. You pushed your legs together to do the same thing, back and forth. “Be whoever you wanna be.”

To be honest, you’d probably love her regardless of anything. She was so admirable to you—her boldness in her identity; God, Ellie was such a dream. If only she knew how much she meant to you.

“All right, I’m gonna break ya’ll up— some of varsity will be playing with jv, some of jv with varsity.” The assistant coach announced, with the sport manager standing right beside him, eagerly. Upon his immediate direction, the girls groaned—mainly, the older varsity team. Not caring for their younger peers or their feelings. “Don’t complain. It’s Coach Servopoulos’ choice!”

The choice to split them up made Ellie’s plan a bit difficult to carry out, especially if the group wasn’t split up on Lucy’s team. Coach Moore began to list out the names, the manager handing out jerseys to the ones he called. Luckily, Ellie and Dina were put on the same team as Lazy Lucy, while you and Cat were placed on the opposing team. Separated by your team with an orange jersey, and her team having a blue one.

Before the scrimmage began, you pulled Ellie aside. “Remember this is an opportunity to teach someone, not to hurt someone. Be careful out there.”

“I’m not a fucking child, y/n. I know how to be careful.” She responded, curtly, walking to her place across from you at the starting zone. You rolled your eyes, gritting your jaw in irritation. You were told to play central striker for your team, which meant that you and Ellie looked right into each other’s’ eyes before the match. Through a heavy glare, you attempt to remind her once more, but she ignores your gaze.

When the whistle blared, the game began, brutally. After all, that’s how the both of you played—even against each other. Unfortunately, her team had more varsity members, meaning you and three other people had to carry the burden of keeping your team afloat.

There was a moment where the ball was sequestered between your feet, and you were moving toward the goal with quickness. That wasn’t until Riley swiped the ball from your feet with a giggle, muttering a small apology. While you tried to get the ball back, you watched as Riley and Ellie shifted ownership of it. Obviously, excluding the calls for a pass from the copper-headed player, Lucy.

Instead of asking, Lucinda grumbled, running toward Riley to steal the ball, heading straight for your goal. You slowed down, getting the intuitive feeling that something was about to go wrong. Even Cat paused on the field, glancing at you with concerned eyes. Ellie cast her eyes toward Riley, huffing from her lips. And, just like that, she made an effort to steal the ball from Lucy—getting overwhelmed by her competitiveness.

Her cleats made a move for the patterned ball, but instead of kicking it forward, the steel of the tip of her shoe made a collision with Lucy’s fibula. A crack sound echoed over the field, followed by a shriek expelling from the girl. Lucinda dropped to the ground cradling her calf with horror.

Ellie stopped, emitting a gasp. She gripped the roots of her hair, noticing the image of her bone sticking through her skin. It was surrounded by oxidized blood, dripping all over the freshly painted turf. Briefly, you froze. Eyes widening at the scene. “Fuck,” You grimaced, sprinting over to the area, along with everyone else.

You glared at auburn-haired player, kneeling to try and help the girl, pulling her head onto your lap. “Fuck, it’s going to be okay, Luce.” You looked around for the adult authority. “Coach Moore!” You called, worriedly, trying to avoid looking at the appearance of the injured girls leg. Every time you looked at it, the image of her exposed bone caused bile to rise in your throat.

He was already in transit, with a look of weariness, running over with his hands on his head. “Shit! Mel, go to the office and tell Tess, so we get can 911 on the phone.” Coach Moore directed to the short-haired manager, clutching onto a plastic first aid kit.

“You mean Coach Servopoulos?” She raised a finger.

“Fucking obviously, Mel!” The blonde goalie told, crouching toward the sobbing freshman. The manager jumped into a sprint, running toward the building while Abby darted her eyes over the brutal injury. Her father was a surgeon, and she had always been really curious about his job. He was wildly busy, but on the weekends, when he was on-call, he’d take her with him. There was a surgery gallery above one of the operation rooms, and he snuck her in a few times. Blood never bothered her as much as it bothered others.

Coach Moore forced the girls that weren’t helping to head inside to the locker room and wait for an update, because practice was now over.

The ambulance came in due time for her to get the medical attention that she needed. Lucy winced and whined as they lifted her onto a gurney, loading her into the back of the loud ambulance truck. Abby and Nora stayed behind with you as you monitored the situation. You couldn’t help but feel at fault for this—you should’ve just told Ellie no.

“Is your girlfriend tapped?” Nora questioned, while the three of you watched the coaches tell the EMT’s what happened, even though they didn’t know much. All they knew was that a player accidentally kicked her fibula through her leg in an attempt to kick the ball.

“Nora!” You scolded, glaring at her. Partially, for outright blaming Ellie for her actions, but also for labeling her your girlfriend aloud. That part was debatable. While you were warming up to the idea, a part of you felt like you didn’t deserve that title.

Abby chortled, “It’s a valid point.” Shrugging with her arms crossed over her chest. “I watched her ice Lucy out the whole game, y/n. When she finally had it, Ellie tried to steal it from her— her own teammate. What the hell was she doing?”

You shook your head, puffing air from your lips. “Lucy played a little lazy, so she was trying to… Teach her a lesson.”

The curly-haired, right-wing central striker scoffed, fixing a pair of disappointed eyes at you. “And you let her? Some kind of captain you are.”

“Hey, I told her to be careful.”

“You should’ve told her not to do it. Now, we’re short one sub for nationals. So, thanks a lot.” Nora concluded, turning her back on you to walk toward the locker room, leaving you with the disapproving sighs of Abigail Anderson.

The both of you watched the assistant coach hop into the vehicle with Lucy, since her parents where meeting them at the hospital. Coach Servopoulos instructed that he did so—he didn’t decide to join the injured teenager on his own accord. “She took it too far…” Abby sighed, as the head coach approached the two of you with a grimace on her features.

“It was an accident, Abby. Ellie didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“You saw what her leg looked like… I find that hard to believe.” The blonde goalie frowned, walking away once Tess Servopoulos got closer, glaring at you. Like you mentioned to Ellie, sometimes she got carried away during games; she wasn’t her usual self. As in, her competitiveness gets the best of her at times. It skews her vision and makes her decide on the most aggressive courses of action, which aren’t always the best. There has been a few games where they consistently got penalties because of her rough housing.

“Turner, what the hell happened out there?” Coach Servopoulos questioned with a firm voice, running her fingers through her mousy-brown hair.  

You slumped your shoulders, rubbing your hand over your pulled back hair. “I don’t know…” You lied through your teeth, sighing. The idea of snitching on Ellie wasn’t option. She’d get benched, or worse, kicked off the team. Tess Servopoulos wasn’t a coach that just let things slide; so, there was going to be hell to pay.  

She raised her thin eyebrows at you, dryly chuckling. “Her fibula is sticking out of her leg, and you’re tellin’ me you don’t know?”

“It happened so fast, Coach. Too fast. I think it was just a misstep.” You told with layers of uncertainty.

She sighed, pressing her lips together. “This misstep just sent a fifteen-year-old to the emergency room… Now, this isn’t the first time Ellie—”

“It wasn’t her fault.” You tried, fiddling with your fingers.

Tess side-eyed you before speaking, walking toward the school building. “This isn’t the first time Ellie has been rough on the field, but it’s the first time it’s resulted in something this severe—which leads me to this… In Boston, if she as so much as shoves another player too hard, she’s getting benched. Do you hear me?” The older woman raises an eyebrow, peering down at you. A frown fell onto your lips as you casted your eyes at your moving feet.

“I hear you.” You replied, solemnly.

“I have a lot of paperwork to fill out, so… Do me a favor and let her know that. I’m not gonna care for her attitude in Boston if you forget to tell her. I’m just gonna look at you.” Coach Servopoulos told as you neared the school, entering on the athletics side, leading you to the locker room. You were absolutely dejected, feeling waves a guilt that you shouldn’t have. The image of Lucy’s leg couldn’t leave your mind, making your stomach to stir. On top of the responsibility of, basically, threatening your companion.

When you entered the locker room, the team was sat on benches tiredly, awaiting the verdict that you were looked upon to deliver. They all sat upright when they noticed you strolling in after the fuming head coach who had seemed to already reach her maximum level of stress. “What’s up? Is she gonna be okay?” Ellie was the first ask, standing to her feet from the bench, her features scrunched with worry.

“Well, I’m sure she’s getting pumped with fentanyl as we speak, so… I think she’s gonna be all right.” Tiredly, your hands fall against your thighs, passing her to walk to your locker. A frown pressed onto your features because of the nausea building in your throat.

Abby sighed, leaning her arms to the side on bench. “If only you didn’t wanna teach her a lesson…” She muttered, causing Ellie to shoot her a glare.

“What?” She snarled.

“Was that not your plan? Maybe y/n relayed it wrong tryin’ to save your ass.” Abby exposed, but you ignored her trying to focus on not throwing up, rummaging through your locker.

Riley stood up, crossing her arms over her chest. “How ‘bout you just mind your fuckin’ business, Anderson.”

The blonde snickered. “Yeah, you were probably behind it, too, huh? Best friends until the end—“

The feeling of bile rising in your throat caused you to drop the lock in your hands. It clambered to the floor, shutting them up mid-argument. “Fuck, I’m gonna vomit.” You covered your mouth with your hand, running to the nearest trashcan you could find. It was large, and thankfully, without any trash inside of it. You gripped the rim that was wrapped with a black trash bag, leaning your face over it to relieve yourself.

“Now, look what you made her do!” You heard the sound of Ellie’s voice.

You lurched, groaning at the uncomfortableness of unleashing your breakfast and lunch into the trash covered in stomach acid. You felt hands on your back, rubbing, softly. When you peered over your shoulder, you noticed the dark, wavy hair of Dina standing over you. “Made me barf, too.” She kindly smiled, patting your back.

When you finished, you wiped your mouth with your shirt. “Should’ve never agreed to that shit…” You murmured, shaking your head.

“Maybe it’s for the best that she doesn’t come to Boston with us, anyway. There’s an upside to everything!”

“Whatever, Dina.” You sighed, thanking her with a pat to her shoulder.

She mirrored your sigh, following you to the group, getting close to you. “This isn’t your fault, you know?” Dina starts, as you ignore the tension in the air while your teammates changed. Ellie had walked to the other side of the locker room to hide from everyone, probably drowning in that same level of guilt you were. The dark-haired girl leaned her shoulder against the cool, gray metal.

“Then, who’s is it? Throwing Ellie under the bus, would mean throwing myself under it, too. I might as well just do it alone.” You grumble, beginning to pull the athletic clothes from your body.

After you changed into your casual clothes, a pair of jeans, blocky sandals, and a printed tube top. A thin, knit cardigan covered your arms during school, but the final bell had rung a long time ago. Ellie had always been your ride home, so you found her waiting in the quad for you on a bench—lonely, with a pair of headphones covering her ears. They were connected to an old Walkman you gifted her some time ago.

You waved a hand at her as you approached. She slid the tiny headphones from her ears to hang around her neck. She stood up, slinging her school bag and duffle bag over her shoulder. “Hey…” Ellie greeted, timidly.

“Hey,” You smiled, watching how she adjusted herself. You adjusted the thick strap of your own duffle bag, examining her freckled features. “What a day, huh?”

“Yeah…” She started walking toward her truck, pulling her keys from her pockets. Now, would be the best time to tell her of the limited amount of fuck-ups she had left, but the words wouldn’t come out. You followed her, swinging each foot in front of the other. “You were right… I shouldn’t have pushed her… I fucked up so bad today.” Ellie shook her head, running a hand through her shaggy, short hair.

You shrug, pressing your glossy lips together. “It happens…”

“I shouldn’t have let you take the fall for it.” She takes your hand, as you walk toward the emptying parking lot. You glance at the desperate hand, grasping for consolation and understanding.

In return, you grip her to reassure her. “You’re lucky Coach Serv didn’t ask too many questions— I barely took the fall for anything.” You lean into her arm, holding her bicep with your other free hand. “She probably has loads of paperwork to fill out since it happened on the school’s property. I think she has bigger concerns, right now.”

When you arrived at her blue Ford Bronco, you trot to the passenger side. “But I don’t mind taking the fall for it. I wouldn’t wanna go on this trip if you weren’t going, too.” Ellie grinned, watching you toss your things into the back seat.

The both of you got into the truck, shutting the door at the same time. The auburn-haired girl started the engine, causing the radio to switch on. Her earthy irises looked over at you, with a gleam of adoration. You smiled, cheeks warming under her gaze. A giggle leaves your throat as you lean over the center console, pulling the fabric of her shirt towards you so you could plot your lips against hers. Her windows weren’t that tinted, but you didn’t care in that moment.

Kisses always heightened Ellie’s mood, and you didn’t want her to worry about what happened with Lucy anymore. It was nothing but a mere accident—she would never want to hurt anyone.

You pulled away from her lips, not before plotting one final chaste kiss, leaning back into your seat. “Are we going to your place or mine?” You reached over to stretch the seatbelt across your body.

“Do you have everything you need for the party later?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“My place it is then.”

As we die, both you and I with my head in my hands I sit and cry…

No Doubt played on the radio, distracting you from the minor, small town traffic that got on under your skin—even though, you weren’t the one driving. You leaned your head on your fist, watching Ellie from the side of your eye. Her window was wound all the way down, elbow resting on it while her other steered the wheel. Her shaggy, auburn hair was blown across her head from the intensity of the wind. But she didn’t care, and neither did you. Her thumb tapped along the leather steering wheel to the beat of the music, nodding her head, rhythmically.

God, you were so in love with her. You were going to miss the days driving down the skinny roads of your hometown with her manning the wheel—because you rarely drove when she was around.

There was a secret that you were keeping tightly under wraps, though—amongst that love. Away from her, and the rest of the team. The joys of traveling to Boston with your team, and your non-girlfriend, is that it’s like a final hurrah before you all graduate and go your separate ways.

A few weeks ago, you received a letter from the admission’s office at University of Notre Dame for their soccer and Literature program—you got in! To your knowledge, Ellie had already committed to Massachusetts Institute of Technology. There was a family friend that lived in the area, which made her feel comfortable with moving so far away. Once you tell her about your commit to Notre Dame, everything will be set in stone; that the both of you were moving on. Everything would be too real—too fast. You were really leaving each other.

That was a topic you always found a way to jump around. At the end of the day, she wasn’t really your girlfriend. The pair of you had been in his happy mix of a relationship and a friendship—calling each other friends but doing the things that people in relationships did for a few years now. It kept too many people from asking you questions you didn’t feel enough conviction to answer. But that left you in a vulnerable position.

Once she sets foot up North, girls will be all over her as if she were a walking aphrodisiac. The prefect blend of masculinity and femininity relied in her spirit. She’d be the apple of any woman’s eye—well, any woman in their right mind—if she does half of what she does for you. Perhaps, one day you’ll rack up the courage to claim her, loudly.

She pulls into the driveway of her two-storied, brick home, sighing, casually. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, Sarah’s back early from school for my graduation. I’m gonna try and get her to be our ride for tonight.” Ellie shuts off the engining, gripping the handle to open up the door.

“Ellie, you know she’s gonna say no. If you wanna drink tonight, I can take one for the team…”

“I want us both to be able to celebrate, and after today, we both deserve a drink. Plus, she owes me.” She shrugged, grabbing her bags from the backseat, and you doing the same.

You chortle, walking around the to truck, to her side. “A drink won’t kill me.”

She looks at you, adjusting the straps on her shoulders. “Okay, you hate driving. Why do you wanna be DD so bad?” Ellie passed you, walking toward her front door. The sound of you giggling, trailing behind her.

“I’m just making sure we have options. Did she drive, this time, from Washington?”

The auburn-haired nodded, unlocking the door and pushing inside. “No, she took a flight. So, she shouldn’t have a problem borrowing Maxie” She referenced the dull, blue Bronco that she trusted with her life.

Ellie’s adoptive sister was a second year at the University of Washington. Every summer she comes back home to be with her family because dorm-life called the shots.

You walked inside behind her, passing the kitchen to get to the pair wooden stairs that led to her bedroom. “I’m home!” Ellie called, walking toward the fridge with you lingering behind her. “Sarah!” She offered you a cold bottle of water, handing it to you as she awaited her sisters’ response.

“Up here!” Her sister responded from up the stairs.

You trailed after your lover, trotting up the wooden steps to follow Sarah’s smooth voice. There was a light echo of The Cranberries, When You’re Gone, playing on the radio, coming from her bedroom. She must’ve been playing the new album. Ellie peeked into her bright space, placing her eyes on her laying figure, doodling in an artbook. Her pale, blue eyes looked up from the coarse page, twirling her charcoal pencil in her left hand. “Dad’s gonna be workin’ late tonight. So, I might be the one dropping you off tomorrow. Hope that’s all right.” Sarah hit the eraser of her pencil against the page, looking up at her sister leaning on the threshold of her bedroom door. Before she had shipped off to Washington, there used to be a thick southern twang that caught the attention of many Jacksoner’s. Sarah replicated the vocal inflections of her father—and Ellie’s voice did the same occasionally. She glanced at you, wiggling her fingers as a greeting.

You smiled, waving your hand.

“I don’t see why it wouldn’t be. Also… Could you do me a favor?”

She rolls her eyes, pushing her stuff aside to adjust herself onto her butt, narrowing her eyes at Ellie. “y/n and I are going to this party tonight, and we wanna drink— safely, so… Could you drive us?”

Sarah sighed, hopping from her bed to turn her silver-gray radio down, twisting the knobs with her index and thumb, plum nail polish artistically chipped. “I thought you had friends, Els… With cars.”

Ellie chuckled, dryly. “I do, but I don’t trust them to drive us back sober.” She rocked on her feet, furrowing her eyebrows to show humility. “C’mon, Sare, you owe me.”

She raised a blonde eyebrow, crossing her arms. “I owe you? From what?” Sarah dubiously asked.

“That one time sophomore year when I lied to Joel about where you were— saying you were at Natalie’s house, when you really were at Cole Matthew’s playing horizontal Twister.” Ellie blinked, feigning innocence. “If you don’t take us… I don’t mind clearing that up with him when I get back from Boston.”

The college girl gasped, then shook her head in disbelief. “Teenagers are evil. Wow.”

“You just turned twenty in April…” Ellie deadpanned.

“Fine. I guess I’ll take you, but I’m picking you up no later than one.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, lips curling at the edges. “Whatever,” She pivoted, taking your hand. “Thanks.” Her eyes glanced at you over her shoulder as she led you a few paces down the hall to her bedroom.

You shut the door behind you, snickering to yourself at the little threat she made to her sister. “You’re a manipulator…” You mutter, dropping your bag near the door. Her room was comfortably dim, with a dark, earthy motif. While her walls were still a white-ish tone of beige, its starkness was diminished by the many posters layered over each other. There was a slight lack of orderliness to her bedroom—a touch of clutter, making it all the more comforting.

Immediately, Ellie walked to her closet to change into some comfortable clothes. She dropped her jeans, sliding on a pair plaid boxers and a t-shirt. “Sometimes you need to do a little manipulating to get the job done.” She shrugged, humorously. “Sarah’s been trying to live down Cole Matthew’s since they hooked up her senior year— it was an easy shot.”

The softness of her made bed called out to you, making you leap onto it after kicking off your sandals. You rolled onto your back, sprawling out over her mattress. “I don’t think Dr. Daniela Star would approve of this.” You sit up on your elbows, ogling her from the center of her bed, referencing the protagonist from her favorite comic. Ellie turned to look at you, lips curling into a boyish smirk.

She sauntered toward you, crawling onto the mattress, over you, settling between your legs. You drape your arms around her shoulders, looking up at her with gleaming irises, examining her round features—olive, doe eyes, sprinkled freckles over her cheeks and nose, plush lips exposing her straight teeth. “What she doesn’t know, won’t hurt her.” Ellie grins, pressing her body against yours as she leaned down to plot her lips on yours. Smooch. Smooch. Before she begins to devour your face like it was the last time.

She braced one elbow by the side of your face, using the other hand to drift down your body, gripping and groping in ways you’d ever allow her to do. You giggled against her lips, completely comfortable under her devoted and doting caress. You were going to miss this most of all—the intimacy of her touch.

So, you spent the time before the party, memorizing every crevice of her body. From the follicles of her auburn hair to the birthmark on her ankle, breathing her in like your own addictive brand of oxygen. After you indulged in each other for a few hours, she pulled out guitar and played for you. Sat by her desk, facing you as you watched her fingers press along the copper strings of her acoustic guitar.

When it was time to get ready for the party, Ellie didn’t do much but throw on an outfit that appeared to have come straight from a Delia’s catalog. You had packed a boxy corduroy mini-dress and a pair of converses that matched hers; they were just a smidge cleaner, though. While you primped and primed yourself, you managed to convince her to smudge some eyeliner around her eyes—it brings out green in your eyes, you say; after propping yourself on her bathroom counter, welcoming her between your legs to add charcoal eyeliner around her eyes.

Ellie then peered in the mirror, over your shoulder, cheeks warming up at her own reflection. She wasn’t a typical wearer of makeup, but whenever she did partake, you noticed her expression of elevation. If it was small, and dainty, she never minded adding to her appearance with a little bit of makeup. However, she only did so when you applied it for her.  

You left the house borderline fashionably late, with Sarah swinging Ellie’s keys around her index finger. She hopped into the driver’s seat, adjusting the mirrors and seat to accommodate to her style of driving. Ellie had to push her seat forward to allow you climb into the backseat. The blonde took her time, causing her sister to side-eye her, pointedly. “Sarah, you are killin’ me.” Ellie spoke, holding out an annoyed hand.

“You asked me to drive you, and you’re complaining? I got a hundred on my driver’s test for a reason—”

“Nobody cares. Please, just drive, dude.”

She pressed her lips into a line, shifting the gear to backing out of the inclined driveway. “Ellie, you just get bitchier with time.” You snickered in the back, pulling your seatbelt over your body, clicking it into the lock. As she started down the road, she peered into the rearview, getting a glimpse of you while her lips percolated to speak. “So, y/n, have you committed to a school yet? I know time’s just a’tickin’…” Sarah offered conversation, smiling in the small mirror. From the corner of your eye, you noticed the rigidness in Ellie’s shoulders at the mention of university.

Ellie nudged her over the console, scoffing. “No pressure…” She filled in, giving you comforting glance.

“I haven’t yet… I’m waiting until after nationals… I don’t want my decision to be heavily influenced by anything, you know?” You slowly explain, looking at the blonde through the mirror.

Sarah glanced at Ellie, making a face you couldn’t quite read. “Yeah, for sure.” She responded, chuckling, lightly. “I forget— what are you going to school for? I know Ellie’s doin’ Biophysics. She’s going full astronaut on us!” She playfully punched Ellie’s arm, laughing, joyously. Clearly, already proud of her.  

You lick the cherry gloss on your lips, priming them to speak. “I’m going for Literature. I used to want to be a professor, and I might still go down that route, but I think I’m going to take soccer serious for a little while.”

“She wants to go pro.” Ellie added, winking over her shoulder at you.

“Hopefully, I can qualify for the Olympics within the next two years.” You shrug, nodding your head, timidly. It was always hard to tell people what you wanted for your future—especially, when your goals seemed so far away. It was always fifty-fifty when sports players wanted to go pro—hit or miss! That’s why you wanted to get you degree; so, it could seem more realistic.

The eldest in the truck, hummed. “I’ve seen you play. I’m sure you could qualify now.” Sarah laughed. “Who do I have to call to make it happen?”

“Oh, my God! You sound just like Joel!” The auburn-haired player gasped, chortling in her seat. The two siblings then began conversing between themselves, asking for your input every so often.

In the dark, she pulled into a clearing that was already lingering with drinking teenagers. She sighed, putting the car in park. “I swear this is like the beginning of a slasher film— you guys be safe!” Sarah told, leaning down as the both of you exited the car. For a moment, you had to wait for Ellie to release the passenger seat, so you could climb out the same way you climbed in. “And cover your drinks… There’s some odd-lookin’ character’s out here.” Ellie gave her thumbs up, attempting to shut the door, but her sister had to say one more thing. The blonde snickered behind her slender fingers before speaking. “I was also gonna say wrap it up, but… You know—”

Ellie decided to cut her off. “Okay, see you at one!” She shut the door, peering at your amused face. “She’s so not funny.”

“I disagree.” You slide your arm through hers, holding onto her as your feet crunched through the grass. Her earthy eyes glanced at you, glancing down at the touching of your skin to hers—boldly in front of your peers. You weren’t entirely thinking, you just wanted to be close to her. That simple feel for physical touch caused her cheeks to fill with warmth, eyes sparkling under the full moon.

She didn’t say anything because she didn’t want to freak you out. Make you coil into your own touch. Earlier, Ellie didn’t make a note of your touch when you were walking to the parking lot after school, because barely anyone was around to tell the tale. The tale of two girls cuddling up with one another in a more than friendly way. Now, you were surrounded by your peers, other upperclassmen, and you were holding onto her like she was your girlfriend. Not your friend.

You approached a wiggling fire, burning a pile of logs, a bonfire. A few fireflies hovered around it with red solo cups in their hands, conversing and laughing. When they noticed you and Ellie, they smiled and waved—some of them. If the varsity team could be cleanly divided in half, that would show the exact turn out of the smiles and frowns.

“Hey, Turner.” Abby greeted you, and you alone. Nora lingered close by, with Dina and Cat hovering in the back. They waved, but they could see the tension developing and didn’t want to get involved.

Instantly, Ellie stiffened, groaning under her breath. “I’m gonna go find us somethin’ to drink.” She pulled from your grasp, leaving you colder than before—and it was leaning more into summer by the day. Riley held her red cup by the white line along the rim, following her as she walked into the dimly lit dark. You could already hear her rants of internal fury coming from Ellie’s pinched mouth.

“Stop trying to piss her off.” You tell the blonde, deepening your eyebrows.

She pushed her long blonde hair behind her ears, shrugging. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Let the situation be done with. It’s over, so get the fuck over it— I’m serious, Abby.” Your voice firmed, glaring up at her, since she was so much taller than you. “We are leaving tomorrow, and I want us to all start off on the right foot.”

“Right leg, you mean?” Nora lifted an arched eyebrow. Shamelessly, she referenced the bone-white fibula that was sticking out of Lucinda Henderson’s leg on the field.

“Is that supposed to be a joke, Nora?” You ask her, narrowing her eyes. “You were so upset about what happened, and now you’re joking about it?”

“Well, if it never happened, I wouldn’t be joking about it now, would I?” The curly-haired forwarder retorted.

You scoffed, having enough of their paired hooplah—it was annoying you, and you were wanting to have a good night. “You know, what? Fuck you guys.” You mutter, pushing through them toward Dina, Cat, and another one of the players, Aisha Conrad. They were watching with keen eyes, clutching their drinks in their hands.

“They’re such bitches…” You grunted, crossing your arms, wondering where Ellie was with your drink. You could certainly use one.

Cat swallowed a sip of the jungle juice, nodding her head. “Tell me about it.” She shook her head. “I should’ve never told my dad about this— we should’ve booked public instead. They would have booked an entirely different flight than us, and we could’ve all been spared of their endless bullshit.”

“You know, the only reason I think Abby is still on this team is because she’s fucking Moore.” Aisha added, rolling her eyes.

Dina gasped, covering her lips with her hand. “Wait, what?”

“Aisha, we shouldn’t be talking about that.” You remind her, widening your eyes, warningly.

“No, wait.” Dina held up a hand, eyeing you. “Abigail Anderson is fucking Owen? The same girl who I always catch chatting up cheerleaders?” She raised her thick eyebrows, guffawing, loosening up from the alcohol in her hands. “Hell, I’m surprised she’s not doing it right now!”

The short-haired midfielder, Cat, looked to the dark sky in thought. “I wonder why she chose Owen of all people. He’s so… Lame.”

“And good for nothin’.” Aisha added, shrugging.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that—good for nothin’—yeah, that checks out. He definitely wasn’t as good of a coach as Tess Servopoulos; you didn’t even know why he was hired. Who cares if he attended Jackson Hole High a few years prior?

“Why not Henry Harmon?” The freckled girl questioned, swirling her drink in her cup. “Now, he’s hot.”

A surprised laugh left your throat. “Dina, don’t you have a boyfriend?”

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him— plus, everybody knows that Henry’s hot. Even you. Just because you’re a lesbian doesn’t mean you don’t have eyes.” Dina rambled, carelessly, until she abruptly covered her mouth with her hand, again.

Instead of cowering from the term of your sexual orientation, you barely flinched. You only narrowed your eyes at your friend, chuckling. “Shit, sorry, y/n.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m sure half the student body already suspects it.” You wave your hand.

Aisha pursed her lips, glancing around the teenager-filled clearing. “I mean, it’s not like you had a boyfriend in the last four years…”

Cat nudged her, roughly, arching her lips in shock. Aisha could be a little bit too honest for her own good. You were surprised that she hasn’t told everyone in a five-mile radius that she was friends with a lesbian. Or, maybe, she had. There was one afternoon—junior year—when you checked your main locker and a note fell out. It was scribbled with pink cursive handwriting, signed with heart and purple lipstick.

I always knew you were a lesbo!

In that moment, you thought your life was over. Then, a girl by the name of Laura Leony privately came forward, saying it was all her doing. She didn’t declare why, but she didn’t have to—you could understand. After that, you just tried to lay low.

That might’ve been the worst of you and Ellie. To argue was to breathe when it came to the two of you last year.

“Aisha, what would I do without you.”

“Crash and burn.” Innocently, she touched her ears with her shoulders, giggling to herself. “I really don’t think people care as much as you think.”

Deeply, you inhaled. “You’d be surprised.”

The sound of your name was spoken from behind, causing you to swivel. It was Ellie and Riley approaching. She had two drinks in her hands, and was mid-conversation, talking with her eyebrows burrowed together. “Spiked punch,” Ellie informed, handing you the red solo cup, filled a bit more than halfway. “And it’s pretty strong.” She sighed, jutting her eyebrows up at the girls as a greeting.

“Did you guys know that Abby’s fucking the coach?” Dina abruptly asked them, pointing a lazy finger.

“Yeah,” Riley chortled, sipping her drink.

“Tess?” Ellie questioned, incredulously, snapping her head toward her best friend in confusion.

You sigh, rubbing your fingers along your eyebrows, tiredly. It was better that less people knew about Abby’s silly affiliation with the young coach—it was better for the Fireflies. “Owen. Not Tess.” Still, you clarified, glancing at her. There was a reason you kept this one thing from Ellie. Her and Abby rarely got along, what if she exposed this interesting fact aloud during an argument? They could open a case, and the entire team could be put on probation until it was solved.

Her jaw dropped in mischievous shock. “What? You knew about this?” Ellie asked you, while her eyes gleamed in the dark. The ‘and you didn’t tell me’ part was silent, but you somehow could still hear her saying it in your mind, filling the gaps.

Your response was none other than a sip of your drink, and a brief lift of your eyebrows. You’ve been captain of your team since the end of sophomore year—of course, you knew about this!

“It’s not obvious?” Aisha perched an eyebrow, downing the rest of her drink.

“Some of us mind our business, Aisha.” Riley snickered, crossing an arm under her elbow. She squinted her eyes at her as a bratty response. “It’s not a secret if it’s obvious.”

“This is great.” Ellie muttered into her cup, shrugging her shoulders.

You snapped her your head toward her. “No, it’s not great. Don’t get any ideas.”

Her best friend laughed, peering down at her amusingly. “Oh, Turner, you’re late. Far too late— the ideas have already began flowin’.” Riley laughed. She was always a subtle lover of chaos and disturbance. She rarely ever caused it, though; Riley was more the type to watch it unfold, and step in if she needed to.

“Ellie,” You warn, deepening your eyebrows.

She put her hands up. “Your secret is safe with me— or, I guess, her secret.” Her smokey, olive eyes glanced at her closest friend, snickering.

You suck your teeth, tapping your fingers against the plastic of your cup. “Why don’t we talk about something else? Boston! Are we excited about Boston?” The lip of your cup found your lips, and you began sipping the drink like your life depended on it. It was the only way to numb your anxieties.

Dina grinned, pointing her finger at Ellie. “Oh, my God— wait, didn’t you get into MIT?”

Immediately, she grew bashful, nodding her head. “Yeah… But I’m not going.”

You paused, turning your body to face hers. “What do you mean you’re not going?” Your eyebrows were deepened, eyeing her intently. “It’s fucking MIT…”

She inhaled, deeply, pursing her lips. “They didn’t have the major I wanted.”

“You never said anything about this.”

“You never asked…”

An awkward beat passed through the group. Mainly hovering between you and Ellie. Your free hand fell to your side, slapping against your bare thigh. Aisha’s voice barrels through the silence, looking around a few parked cars. “Henry!’ She called, waving her hand high above her head, breaking the silence. “I’m gonna go… Come on, Cat!” Aisha took Cat’s hand, dragging her from the group. Whoops, things just got awkward. However, you didn’t care; your eyes were stuck on Ellie’s with a worried irises.

“I’m sure Jesse is somewhere lookin’ for me… I’ll leave you guys.” Dina gave a tightlipped smile, slipping away, leaving the two of you by yourselves.

“You’re still going to college, right?” You ask, looking at her intently.

“Yeah, of course! Joel would have my head otherwise.” She responded, chuckling, glancing off into the woods.

You blink at her, scoffing under your breath. “Okay, so where? I know you applied to Brown, USC… Uhm—“

“Notre Dame.” Ellie answered, plainly, rocking on her feet.

Your jaw practically unhinged itself, flickering your eyes between hers. Notre Dame? That was your school. “What?”

She sighed, downing the rest of her drink, crumbling up the plastic and tossing it to the side. “They had the major I wanted. Biophysics. And… I saw the acceptance letter in your kitchen while you were in the shower a few weeks ago.” Ellie paused, running her hand through her short hair. “It’s your dream school— I knew you’d commit. Their soccer program is phenomenal— aren’t they, like, second in the country?”

With your lips gapped open, you were frozen in surprise. Ellie had decided to attend the same school as you? Even after her set plan of going to Boston? To say the least, you were surprised—as surprised as a person could get. The possibility of the two of you going to college together never seemed to cross your mind. Indiana didn’t seem like Ellie’s gig.

“I was hoping for a better reaction than this.” She tapped your jaw, lightly rubbing her thumb against the structure of your face.

You blinked, again. Taut breath escaping your throat. Instead of speaking, you wrapped your arms around her neck, tugging her against your body, causing your drink to spill down the back of her shirt—it was an accident. “Woah,” Ellie chortled, pulling you in from your waist.

“Fuck, I would’ve said something sooner about Notre Dame— I just…” You stammered, inhaling, sharply. “I don’t know… I was getting really existential about everything. Leaving the team behind— leaving you behind! I was fuckin’ losing it…” You pulled back, keeping your arms draped around her shoulders. Her fingers finding comfort at your hips. “But I swear, I was gonna tell you once we got back from Boston… I wish you would’ve said something earlier. Now, I look like an asshole.” You plucked her shoulder with your fingers, pouting.

“I was waiting until you wanted to tell me for yourself— it just took longer than expected s’all.”

Ellie was patient when she wanted to be. At first, you thought it was because she knew that you were separating soon, wanting to end on a good note an all. She used to gripe about being in an unlabeled relationship, but since the spring semester started, she was a sweet as pie. “I’m sorry…” You mutter, playing with the short hairs at the nape of her neck. The comment of your coach rang through you mind—maybe, you should warn her about messing up… But you didn’t want to ruin this moment.

“It’s fine.” She hummed, flickering her eyes over your features. It really wasn’t fine, in your mind, but whatever she said went. If you were her, you would’ve broken up with yourself a long time ago. “We’re goin’ to college together.” Ellie grinned, leaning toward your lips.

You laugh, adjusting your arms around her neck. “We’re going to college together.” You parrot, leaning into her, carelessly. Not caring for the off-handed looks of your peers—as their expectations were met by the physicality of your relationship.

Before your lips could meet, surrounded by trees, the sounds of an altercation pulled her from you. It sounded like—

“Is that Riley?” Ellie questioned, looking over your shoulder.

You turned around, narrowing your eyes on the figures getting at each other. They were pointing fingers and yelling, causing a group to develop around them. “What the hell…” You mutter, dropping your cup, and jogging over to the scene. Ellie was on your tail with a similar look of confusion.

People had gathered in a circle around them, urging them to have a cat fight. You shoved the guy instigating to the side, pushing into the middle of the crowd. Heat burrowed under your skin, glaring at the two girls—Riley and Abby—as you mentally decided on the course of action.

“You know what, meat-head? I suggest you keep your fuckin’ mouth shut!”

“Or what?!” Abby exclaimed, holding up her arms, tauntingly. “You gonna kick my shin in—? I’d like to see you try!”

“Am I gonna do that before or after you fuck Coach Mo—“

That’s when you interrupt, running between the two of them. Ellie following in your steps, placing a hand on Riley’s shoulder. “Riles, leave it.”

You snap you fingers, glaring at the both of them. “Fireflies! What the hell are you doing— let’s go!” You instruct them, pointing your fingers toward the semi-crowded wood. There was a path leading you down, but you need them to separate from the rest of your class. Abby hesitated, gritting her jaw, glaring at the girl with braids running down her back. “Go on…” You push her arm, lightly, guiding her to lead the group.

The core group of the team lingered in the crowd, pushing through as soon as you commanded. When you found privacy, they stood in a line before you. In the order of: Ellie, Riley, Aisha, Cat, Dina, Nora, Abby, Sid, Uma and Mei. You didn’t even realize Uma and Mei had been in attendance until they materialized from the shadows of the party.

You paced down the line like a military general, with your hands held behind your back. “Clearly, none of you heard me when I said that tomorrow we need to be starting off on a good foot— so, now, I have to treat you girls like children.” You scold, glaring at the most argumentative on the team.

Sid raised her hand, pursing her dainty lips. “You don’t have to…”

Your eyes peered at her, smirking. “Oh, my God! Sid, thank you so much for volunteering for my exercise—“

“Huh?”

“Come here.” You tell her, holding out a hand. She comes forward, stuffing her hands into the front pockets of her jeans. “Here’s what you’re gonna do… You’re gonna go down the line and say what love about your teammates— each and every one.”

Sid groaned, slouching her shoulders. “Ugh, that’s embarrassing! y/n, do I have to? My team knows I fuck with them…”

Dina raised her hand, snickering. “Actually, I didn’t know that… You’re always so quiet.”

You grip Sid’s shoulders from behind, peering over her shoulder. “Now, look at that… Why don’t you start with Ellie?”

She dragged her feet forward, positioning herself to stand before the girl. “Uhm, Ellie… I think you’re one of the best this team has. It may not always seem like it, but I appreciate the feedback you give me when it comes to defense.” Sid sighed moving into the player beside her. “Riley, despite how much it annoyed y/n… I do find it commendable that you were so quick to defend your friend for something that she wasn’t even around to hear.”

Riley glanced at Ellie, earning a soft nudge.

Sid continued, going down the line of the team, awkwardly complimenting until her turn was over. The line went from the end to the front, until everyone had gone; you being the last to compliment your team.

The core argumentative four managed to say nice things about each other, through their opposing opinions, causing everyone to neutralize their emotions. After, Riley Abel had found herself apologizing about nearly exposing the relationship between Abby and Owen—it was fucked up, she said.

Then, Abby apologized for tempting her to fight, which led to her apologizing to Ellie for her harsh judgement. Nora followed suit, hesitantly.

So, your plan worked! Either they were all completely humoring you, or the tactic that Coach Servopoulos mentioned last year actually worked.

It wasn’t long before you heard the horn of Maxine honking at you and Ellie. The complimenting session brought you guys to one, meaning it was time to leave. And neither you nor Ellie didn’t mind. The party wasn’t the most relaxing shindig, but improvements were made within the group. Hopefully, meaning that tomorrow morning everybody will be walking onto that plane with a fresh start.

Sarah had dropped you off at your house. Ellie letting you out the backseat, kissing you goodbye, longingly. Her hands clutched your sides like she didn’t want to release you—like you weren’t seeing each other in seven hours. When she finally did, you held onto her hand until your fingers slipped from hers, walking up the path to your home.

You were a bit of a last-minute packer, meaning you spent the next hour making sure you have everything you needed for Boston. Your uniform, pajama’s, cute clothes, three pairs of shoes—including your cleats. In the case of boredom, you shoved two options of books into your duffle bag. Since you were flying privately, because of a large, humble purchase made by Cat Yoon’s father, there was more give to the weight of your bag.

When you were finished, you put the bags by your front door, as quietly as possible to not wake your parents. Then, you showered and slipped into bed, falling asleep to the image of furthering your education with the love of your life. While it slightly worried you, excitement was the most noticeable emotion coursing through you. More so because it gave you time. Time to open up and be yourself to not only Ellie, but to the world moving and progressing around you. You didn’t want to hide beneath a blanket of neutrality anymore.

To love a woman wasn’t a crime to be charged with. Not anymore, at least—its 1996.

The morning came around fast. Your blaring alarm woke you up with a screech, which was followed by your mother knocking on your door for breakfast. Quickly, you did your hygiene routine. Then, you rushed down the stairs to consume something hearty to last the whole flight, or most of it. You never liked eating on planes. It always felt like the food never digested properly in the air, or perhaps, that was your slight neurosis of flying. Your parents spoke of how proud they were of you, going to nationals, getting into college—they were getting emotional before your eyes.

In a way, their emotions shifted onto you, causing your eyes to water. It felt as if you were already saying goodbye to them. Your father helped pack your bags into the car, before he kissed you farewell. He couldn’t drive you to the airport because work had called him in. “Please, don’t forget to call us when you get to the hotel.”

“Remember, your dad is prone to strokes…” Your mother added, walking around to get into the driver’s seat.

You laugh, pulling from the embrace he had wrapped you in. “I remember. I won’t forget!” You patted his arm, reaching for the handle of the passenger door. “As soon as I get to the hotel, I’ll call you, daddy.”

“All right, have safe flight, honey.”

The sound of the foreign engine of your mother’s car sounded as you slipped into the passenger seat with a departing smile. When your mother pulled out of the driveway, you waved to your father as he watched the car roll into street.

Jackson Hole Airport wasn’t far from your home—under ten miles. So, you didn’t spend a lot of time chatting with your mother before you drifted into the independence of traveling to Boston. You couldn’t get far from the drop-off point before she reminded you to call when you arrived at the hotel. After sharing quick I love you’s, you dragged your luggage, with your duffle bag draped atop of it, into the semi-busy airport.

On your way inside, you catch the frantic movements of Mei Hawkins. She was hitching two medium-sized luggage’s and a backpack. They kept falling over, tilting over sidewalk curbs and bubbles on the pavement. “Mei,” You waved, trotted over toward her. “You need some help?”

Her shoulders were hunched, a whine-like laugh coming from her throat. “If you can…” Mei smiled, showing her slight gapped tooth smile. “Flights always frazzle me.” You took one the luggage’s from her, pulling it along with your other hand. There was some weight to it, more than you thought. “A few years ago, my aunt was in a plane crash— it was minor. Barely lifted off the runway before it came back down. She was stuck in Kyoto for a week.”

You snickered, walking through automatic doors of the airport. “I don’t know if we could count that as a plane crash…”

“You can to! The wheels went up, so everybody felt the collision. It was like a bad landing, but worse.” Mei explained with lifted skinny eyebrows. “It’s freaked me out ever since. I haven’t visited Japan in three years because of it.” She shivered, adjusted the straps of her Jansport. “The only reason why I even agreed to this because, one— it’s nationals, and two— it’s within the country. Slowly, but surely, I’m conquering my fear…”

She was a bit of a nervous rambler, but she played completely opposite of that. Like you, she was a center midfielder—she stood right next to you on the field. When Mei focused, she was a totally different person compared to who she was off the field.

“That’s one way to look at it. Glad you could make it— we need you.” You told her, shuffling through people. The team was able to evade customs since the flight was private, thankfully. Especially, with the load that Mei was carrying.

She chortled, peering her hazel eyes around. “No need to butter me up. I’m already coming.”

“Yeah, clearly. And you brought your whole closet with you.” You laugh, looking over at her. “What’s in this luggage? A dead body?”

Mei looked at you with a pointed expression. “I pack for emergencies…” She leaned closer to you, as you approached the outer boarding area. “All types.” The girl spoke with such diction that made your mind go straight to the gutter.

“Mei, is there alcohol in here?”

Her lip fell between her teeth, mischievously. “I’ll tell if you sit next to me on the plane…” She shrugged, walking ahead of you.

“Sold!” Although, you were planning on sitting beside Ellie, the offer was too good to pass up. If she snuck in the goods, Boston was going to be so much more fun than you expected.

The aircraft came into view, obstructing the morning sun from your eyes. It was the perfect size for your team. A smile creeped onto your face, wheeling yours and Mei’s belongings toward the plane. Coach Servopoulos stood outside, chatting with Henry Harmon, and his brother Sam.

Your eyes widen at the sight of them, jogging toward the two. “Oh, shit! Henry, Sam— since when were you guys coming to Boston?” You ask through a friendly smile, doing a mixture of a waddle and jog to approach the brothers. Mei had simply waved at them, before walking up the metal stairs into the airplane.

Henry grinned, waving his hand, boyishly. He was a senior just like you, approaching graduation with ferocity. He was the president of the school newspaper and worked very hard to earn his position. His brother, Sam, was a sophomore following right in his footsteps, knowing how to man a camera like it was easy. Sam took the pictures, and Henry wrote the stories.

“We’re plannin’ on publishing a story on JHH’s Fireflies going to nationals. Coach T just approved the request yesterday.” Henry grinned, leaning onto his tough-box luggage.

Sam gave a shy, tightlipped smile. He pulled his camera around his body, aiming it you. “Smile!”

The flash of his camera shocked you into being ready, but it didn’t work. “Okay, Sam… At least try and get my good side.” You pose for the photo, turning to the side. He chuckles, snapping the picture, then giving you a thumbs up. “All right, I’ll see you guys inside.”

“What am I chopped liver?!” The head coach calls, slapping her hands against her covered thighs.

“Sorry! Morning, Coach Serv!” You grit your teeth, trotting up the steps. Slightly, struggling with Mei’s bag.

Most of the team had already arrived and they already sat in their seats. Abby jutted her eyebrows at you from her cushioned position, sitting beside Nora. They both had neck rests of different patterns and had faces that exposed their fatigue, and potentially, their hangovers. Dina sat beside Mel, and you knew that wasn’t by personal choice. She waved her fingers at you, keeping place in her book with her other hand. Cat and Aisha sat together, already talking up a storm. Ellie and Riley were the only ones running behind, and it made you frown.

“Mei,” You complain, attempting to put the luggage in the overhead.

“Sorry!” She hopped from the seat she was getting comfortable in, deciding to help you get the luggage into the compartment.

After securing it over your seats, you put your luggage in an empty one a little way from your seat, then the both of you sat. She took the window seat, while you took the aisle, in the front half of the plane. Perhaps, it made sense for you to be ahead of most of the team—you were the captain, after all. And, if you could choose a co-captain—which you asked Coach Servopoulos about a variety of times—it would be the girl sitting beside you, Mei. Not only would she deserve the position, but she’s the next best player beside Ellie. Because the two of you have been involved with each other for some time, choosing Ellie as your co-captain would be a recipe for disaster. Frankly, if she were, the decision would be made on the warm front of collective bias; she played entirely too rough to be considered the co to your captain. And the girls would have a riot.

You lean into Mei, squinting your eyes with inquiry. “What’s in the bag?”

Stubbornly, she shook her head. “I’m not telling you until we take off.”

“You say that like I’m gonna snitch on you, or something.” You bunch your eyebrows together. “I would never… As long as I have in on it.” A snicker fell from your lips, and she playfully shoved you.

“I don’t wanna tell you now because then you’ll just ditch me to sit with Ellie… Whenever she gets here.” Mei pursed her heart-shaped lips, looking through the oval window. She hid behind her words a bit, but you could feel the genuineness peeking through her skin.

An empathetic smile spread onto your lips, gleaming at her. It was always a soft feeling to be liked and appreciated. What a page-turner from the night before. “I already told you that I was gonna sit with you… I wouldn’t go back on my word. Swear.” You held out your pinky-finger, bending it to get her attention.

She narrowed her honey eyes, taking your pinky with hers, releasing a sigh. “Fine…” Mei released your pinky, peering over her seat for prying ears. She leaned toward your ear, and you waited with a slight grin of anticipation. “My sister’s boyfriend sells weed, so she got us fourteen grams to split— but only for the seniors, duh.”

You glance at her. “That can’t be it— your bag weighs a ton.”

“There’s two bottles of Mad Dog 20/20, and the rest of the weight should be my clothes…” She says, looking up at the ceiling in thought.

Your jaw dropped, blinking at her. She had two bottles of Mad Dog 20/20… You never took her for a girl who thrived under rebellion. “Mei, holy shit—” Did her parents know about this?

“What are ya’ll whispering about?” A familiar, raspy voice speaks. Immediately, she caught your attention, causing you to swivel you head around.

“Ellie, where the hell have you been?” Quickly, your attention was diverted—purposely, changing the subject from the items Mei had brought. Sometimes, she had the tendency to be late; and every time it drove you up a wall. “We were told to be here by a certain time for a reason. We’re on a schedule.” You nagged, ignoring the soft kisses she was plotting along your forehead.

She chuckled against your skin before speaking. “Last minute, we had to pick up Riley—”

“My bad!” The brown-skinned girl interjected, raising up a hand while she got situated in her seat toward the back of the plane.

“And some morning traffic picked up— this isn’t my fault. Plus, I bought you some tea!” Ellie offers up a warm cup, holding it in front of you. “It’s lavender.” She grinned.

Your eyes lit up to the drink in front of you, taking the warm cup with quick fingers. “Ugh, I love you…” The mumbled words tumbled from your lips before I could catch them. Every proclamation of love you gave to Ellie was all to yourself, or Dina because she knew about the most when it came to your relationship.

Her olive eyes widened, lips parting in genuine shock. For a moment the world went silent, and neither of you spoke. The process of saying I love you in an environment that wasn’t her bedroom, was an odd feeling. It modeled after the uncomforting bite of a crisp, winter morning—poking at your flushed, sensitive skin.

“Awkward…” Aisha poked her head above her seat, and you shoot her a glare.

Coach Tess Servopoulos walked into the plane, which automatically settled the team. Henry and Sam followed after her, finding their seats somewhere in the middle. Abby waved at Henry, reaching to dap his hand as a greeting.

And she wants to pretend that she’s not lesbian.

Just as she does so, the assistant coach walks steps into the plane, nodding his head curtly at those who spared him a glance. Mel jumped onto her knees in her seat, to wave at him.

Ellie scratched the back of her neck. “I’m assuming you’re sitting with Mei— hey, Mei.” She awkwardly waved.

“Hey, Ellie.” She kindly smiled, bending her index finger at the auburn-haired player.

As you held your warm cup, your skin wrinkled between your eyebrows with internal confusion. Did she not love you? Was this a bad time say that—did you say too much, too fast, too loud? Holy fuck. “Yeah, I am…” You respond, distantly, attempting to meet her eyes but you couldn’t fully.

“Cool, uhm, I’ll be back there,” She juts her thumb toward the pair of seats her best friend was settling in. “With Riley… Uh, maybe Mei and I can switch sometime after take-off…?”

“Maybe… I might be asleep, though…” You scratch your eyebrow, pressing your lips into an awkward smile.  

“Oh,” Ellie pursed her lips, chewing on the skin inside of her mouth.

“Yeah… You should probably go find your seat— take-off should be any minute now.” You found a way to blink at her. The auburn-haired player chortled, nodding her head. Her cheeks had reddened from your undignified confession, but with your sudden coldness, she felt the need to retaliate with frustration. A scoff left her plush lips as she stepped away from you, down the aisle. “Thanks for the tea!” You raised the cup, turning your head to face the leather in front of you.

Mei bored her eyes into the side of your face the moment Ellie left. “What the hell was that?”

“As if I would know…” You casted your eyes to the cup in your hands, feeling its warmth.

“I’ve known you guys for a long time…” Mei began, puffing air through her lips. “I thought you were the one with the concerns.”  

Mei Hawkins had known about your reservations with your sexuality and was one of the few people to understand why you felt that way. She wasn’t a lesbian or thought of women the way you did but she could empathize. Growing up in Jackson wasn’t always the easiest for her either. Her dark, often chained, fish-netted appearance was always a topic of discussion.

“Me too… I don’t know what the hell that was about.” You frowned, scrunching your eyebrows. Ellie has never acted like that before. The moment your louder with your adoration, wether it was on purpose or not, she quivered away. It was such a discomfort that it made your skin itch.

“Maybe, she was just surprised. I love you is kind of big…”

“I’ve already said it before. There’s no reason for her to be so surprised.” You curtly added, intently peering at your friend. Eyes glinting with a shell of worry. For a moment, you thought your eyes were welling up with tears, heating up behind blinking eyelids.

Before the plane took off, the head coach stood up to speak. She demanded that they were to behave the whole flight, be kind to the two attendants, and don’t cause a stir. The girls acknowledged her word all together, nodding their heads, and speaking the saying ‘heard’ in unison.

Within moments the plane finally took off with an unnerving shake of the vessel.

As it rumbled along the track, and gradually lifted off the ground, your stomach folded. Mei had reached for your hand, clenching it with a firm vice. You placed your other hand over hers, puffing air from your lips. Flights weren’t your favorite thing in the world, but your fear wasn’t as great as hers. Under the light weight of her hand, you could feel her trembling. What happened to her aunt must’ve really frightened her—phobia’s truly know how to bury its roots within a person.

Once you were in the air, you dropped her hand, not before massaging her palm, comfortingly. Soon enough, the attendants were walking down the aisle offering snacks and drinks. You were still good on drinks, considering your tea, but a bag a chips wouldn’t hurt. You weren’t hungry, but you offered to share with Mei. To get her mind off the fact that you were floating in the air in a heavy machine.

Within the next few hours, Mei was the first to fall asleep. She swallowed some allergy medication, probably something to help her sleep, and slumped against the window. You tried to sleep but the idea of Ellie being ashamed of loving you bothered your mind. Sure, it was a thought of insecurity, but she’s never done that before. Has she finally had enough of your tiresome ways? If so, you’d understand. That wouldn’t negate the fact that it would still hurt, though.

However, it wouldn’t make sense. She had just admitted to committing to Notre Dame… Because they had the major she wanted, but also, for you. You were confused, and overwhelmed. Perhaps, it was the flight that was making your brain run slow and obsessively.

There was slight turbulence that made you shut your eyes, holding onto the arm of your seat. But it wasn’t enough to completely freak you out—until the shaking got worse. A flight attendant was walking down the aisle, collecting trash into a bag with a kind smile. Another turbulent bump occurred, causing her to run face first into the wall leading to the pit.

After that, there wasn’t much reaction time to laugh or wonder if she was all right.

The private plane began to wave side to side in the air. Beside you, Mei was startled awake with wide eyes. “What the fuck is happening?”

You couldn’t respond because your eyes were stuck on the attendant. Blood had secreted from a wound the accident caused. Her forehead dribbling with thick, crimson blood. Then, the plane dipped in the air, dramatically.

There was a muffled sound of your seat partner calling your name, but your ears had tuned it out while chaos began to nest within the aircraft. Screaming, wailing, yells for order happened all at once.

Masks dropped from the ceiling, but as you began plummeting from the highest point in the sky, you froze. Hastily, Coach Servopoulos appeared, placing the masks over you and Mei’s face as you both panicked in different ways.

Unexpectedly, a hole materialized in the side of the front of the plane, peeling its mechanics away every passing moment. The pressure sucked the head coach out of it, right it front of you. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you released sobs of trepidation.

Mei was right. She had every reason to fear airplanes—but you hated that she was right. It seemed to be your final moments; you peer at her, reaching for her arm, deciding to cling to her. Somehow, your life flashed before your eyes. The moments you shared with Ellie, the moments you hid from the world in the hopes to be seen as normal. What a fucking waste of time.

With Mei in your arms, you shut your eyes, tightly. To brace for the impact of the earth. However, that was something you never got—well, while you were conscious.

In its plummet, sometime between the crash onto the ground and breaking down of its parts, yours and Mei’s seats had been sucked out of the same hole in the wall that Tess had. When it happened, your body shut down out of fear. And for that, you were subconsciously thankful.

However, when your eyes fluttered open after the fall… To your shock, you were hovering over the ground. Moist soil, covered in green leaves, was the only thing in your line of sight. Birds poked at the back of your head, pinching at your skin. Anxiously, you fanned them away.

There was a pressure pulled against your lower stomach, keeping you suspended in the air. You released a groan, reaching for the tightness restricting your lower abdomen. It was the belt of your seat, still locked into the gear that was connected to the cushion. Mindlessly, you tugged at it, dizzy from the fall and the oxygen being squeezed out of you.

When your thumb found the release button, you yelped as you dropped from your suspension, hitting the ground with a thud. Your arms barely braced your fall, causing you to fall face first into the dirt, getting a mouthful of soil.

Its dry, tanginess shocked your senses—waking you up from the trance that had enveloped you. You coughed it up, rubbing your tongue along the fabric of your shirt. “Oh, my God…” You muttered, leaning back onto your knees, taking in the endless environment that surrounded you. Slender stalks of trees went on for miles before you, and it set fear into your muscles.

Mei.

Just then, you gained the memory of the crash. The shutting down of the engine, a hole being blown into the side of the aircraft, the screaming and wailing—you crashed in the woods, but where? You were in a fucking plane crash!

“Mei!” You called for her, rasping, attempting to stand to your feet. You wobbled, scratching your sore throat. But, as you pivoted on your feet, you didn’t have to search far for your seat buddy. Your eyes widened at the sight, lips parting to erupt a horrified shriek.

Her body was strung up, caught in thick branches. Her warm, hazel eyes were wide open, frozen in a state of fear—looking at you. A branch was impaling her chest, propping her body up like a piece of meat on a skewer. It was the same branch that your seat was attached to; the one you fell from.

Your hands covered your mouth in horror, falling back onto your knees. “I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry…” You chanted, leaning into the ground, rocking your body to soothe yourself. Not that it was working. If you could climb the tree to take her down, you wouldn’t have enough strength to pry her from the branch. You couldn’t help her.

Then, the thought of everyone else flooded your mind. “Oh, my God— Ellie…” You whined, wiping your face that was getting covered in more dirt by the second. If something had happened to her… You wouldn’t know what to do. You’ve never been one for suicidal thoughts, but the idea would entice you.

For a moment, you couldn’t help but panic, imagining the worst. What if she was the one strung up like Mei—you wouldn’t be able to take it. The image of that flashed behind your eyelids, causing a cry to emit from your lips. Please, don’t be dead.

The smell of smoke and gas wafted into your nostrils, causing you to sit up. It must’ve been the plane.

Boom!

The sound of an explosion startled you, but it sounded close by. You refused to be alone—out in the middle of nowhere—so, you straightened up. You stood to your feet, dusting the dirt from your shorts. With a final glance to the fallen Mei, you pressed your fingers to your lips, sending a kiss her way. I’m sorry. Internally, you made a promise to never forget her because that was all you could do. She succumbed to one of her greatest fears—what a tragic way to meet one’s end.

However, you had a team to locate, despite the looming temptation of death looking you right in the eye—for the sake of self-preservation, and for the sake of proving to yourself that you weren’t alone in the torture that was the grief nesting inside of you.

taglist: @sawaagyapong, @violetszn, @vxsellie, @vahnilla, @cherryvinyl-777, @aphrodyk3, @lovinglynny.

[prlssprfctn]

I'd love to see an AU where Jason is tossed into the pit and while his wounds heal, he is forever stuck in the body of his 15 year old self.

For Bruce, I think it would be more devastating being confronted by the 15 year old boy he lost. There isn't the physical disconnect of Red Hood Jason and Robin Jason. He was so small when he died, so full of life but now he's come back with so much anger and hatred. And how could he say no to his pleas. That was the body he had to carry, the one he had to bury, and the one immortalized in the Batcave. It's the same face he sees in his nightmares. That was his baby that he failed and he miraculously has been given a second chance.

For Jason, I think this only reinforces his belief that nothing has changed. His life and his death had no impact on anyone or anything. The work he put in as Robin to serve justice is meaningless when Gotham is still a hellhole. Batman and Robin fight the same rogues who are in and out of Arkham. The clown still walking. A death is meant to be the finale, an ending so permanent which is why they can't kill. But here he is again. No wonder he disregards the lives of scum, his had no weight.

And if Jason realizes that isn't the case he will only spiral move. Because everyone has moved on. He got replaced in months. Bruce is no longer smiling at him like the dad he remembered. Dick is actually here for his brother. They got to grieve, mourn, and move on but he is still stuck as his deathbed. He can't have a normal public life anymore and his vigilante life was taken away from him. What exactly does he have left?

Also an odd question you don't have to answer, but are you caught up on asks? I worry that I might have deleted an ask of a relationship/character analysis without sending it and would want to actually send it. But I also don't want to flood your inbox.

oh. my. god.

this is, like, one of the angstiest concepts of Jason about his return. i vote for adding *a little* body-horror, where not only his body didn't change, but some of his wounds are still phatomly there. not visible because the Pit does a good job of that, but not *only* felt by Jason. like sometimes his bones just slightly snap. or his shoulder is dislocated. random blood starts streaming out of his nose, ears, or mouth. he coughs with it. it doesn't *change* anything you see — he still functionates normally; he can and will simply snap his shoulder back, and return to work.

but the fact that even this doesn't change anything for him.

not his death, not his life, not his wounds, not any of his sacrifices — there is nothing that would change what he went through. isn't it just maddening?

answer to not-so-strange question: i didn't have any specific analysis/long posts in asks except for this :(

[anatomyleigh]

It feels dangerously domestic watching Mark try and cook his mother’s buttermilk pancakes in her kitchen. She stares at his bare back from behind the marble island, his muscles flexing as he moves his arms to flip the batter sizzling on the pan. 

“I’m not sure how these are gonna turn out [name],” He says with an endearing chuckle. “I’ll have pizza on speed dial.” 

“I’m sure they’ll turn out great, especially since you followed all of your mom’s instructions. Right?” She raises a brow at him. When he turns his head, a sheepish smile creeps up on his face–his shoulders rising towards his ears. Guilty, no doubt. She sighs and shakes her head. He laughs and turns his focus back on the pancakes. 

It’s easy to get back into the groove of things after Mark comes back from a mission. He just makes it so seamless, so effortless. After spending a few bed-ridden days at the GDA, he’s already back on his feet. Healed and ready to fight for the world again. He’ll kiss her forehead and tell her how much he missed her. Despite her arguing about resting, he’ll shake his head–insist on making these pancakes because he hasn’t been able to do anything romantic for her. As if he wasn’t teetering off the edge of death. As if she didn’t cry and scream at Cecil, beg him to save Mark’s life. Hyperventilating, all alone outside his hospital room. 

But she knows. The harrowing thought swirling in her consciousness, the dread filling her lungs. 

This. This tranquil moment–Mark in his whole humanness, his easy laughter, and romantic heart–could be taken from her. Stripped and beaten down to the bare skeleton. 

It’s almost happened, more times than she could count. She has nightmares about it, her mind remembering his agonizing screams, the sound of his bones splintering inside his skin, his bruised body and face. The blood pooling around him. His blood. 

It constricts every chamber of her heart, when she remembers. It makes it hard to breathe. 

“–and I don’t think I was meant to–wait [name]? Are you okay?” Mark’s voice snaps through her thoughts. She didn't realize there were tears forming in her eyes until her vision blurred out his face. She blinks, the tears falling down her cheeks as she suppresses a weep. Mark quickly rushes towards her and grabs her face with his calloused hands. 

“Baby? What’s wrong? Do you–Do you not want to eat the pancakes?” He says, so softly and innocently. She can’t stop the sob that escapes her chest. He sighs, bringing her body towards his. She wraps her arms around his waist as she cries into his chest. 

“Please don’t leave me.” She says, voice raw and cracked. He presses a kiss to her hairline. 

“Is that what this is about?” She nods. 

“Hey, hey, look at me.” Mark whispers, gentle but firm. He waits until she finally tilts her wobbling chin up to meet his eyes.

 “You’re okay.” A thumb brushes along her cheek. “I’m right here.” 

Her voice cracks as she speaks: “I know.” 

But it isn’t that simple. It’s a nuanced feeling, dense and muddled. She’s terrified of the quiet after these moments. Moments that seem so insignificant, so small in the grand scheme of things, that they could fit in the palm of her hand. She’s afraid of getting that call from Cecil. Afraid the world would beat and break him, until he was nothing left but dust. 

It’s overwhelming, the thought of it all; the anxiety of waiting for him to come back, the pressure to always be unselfish with Mark, having to always be able to let him go. To always be noble. Like Debbie and Oliver. Like Eve or William.

Mark leans closer, his forehead resting against hers. She can feel his heartbeat, steady and alive. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” 

“I know.” 

“I think of you [name]. In every fight. All I can think of is you,” He says, voice low and slightly trembling. “And, I think about how I need to come back to you. How I can’t leave without telling you that I love you, one more time. And somehow–I keep fighting. I will always keep fighting for you. To make this world a better place. For you.” 

A silence settles over the kitchen. The smell of scorched batter wafts through the air, but neither of them moves. Her fingers curl tighter into the fabric of his shirt. His arms wrap more firmly around her.

And for a moment, the world doesn’t ask anything more of them. Just this. A boy and a girl in a kitchen, breathing. Existing. Together.

She presses her face to his chest and lets her eyes close. His heartbeat thrums against her skin, a reminder. That he’s here. That he’s still hers.

For now.

The future can wait.

He brushes his lips against her temple.

“I love you,” he whispers again, like an oath. 

She doesn’t say it back—not yet. The words felt so small compared to that feeling in her chest. She reminds herself to say it later, when the world doesn't feel so big.

The buttermilk pancakes burn. Debbie would be so disappointed.

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔: CORNYYYY!!!! tomato tomato!!!!! no but seriously, angst is my fave genre to write; i can’t stop hurting my own feelings!

anyway, thank you for reading! it means the world (especially since i never thought my writing would see the light of day again). see you later <3.

[carbonfiction]

Could you do some angst Logan x mutant!reader comfort. Like maybe she has a similar origin to Logan where she was tested on for her powers and escaped. She ends up at the mansion and that’s how her and Logan end up together.

I’ve been wanting to write this myself for a while but haven’t had time. I need to see some truama bonding and comfort for that man with someone who really understands what it’s like. I would give anything to be that person. 😭

Hi anon!! Im so sorry this has taken me so long to get to- despite some little changes on the request, and my unsureness on writing angst, i hope you enjoy this drabble!

One step at a time

Summary: sleep can be a fickle thing, a struggle more personal than most.. But it just so happens theres another person in the mansion that understands. Written with X1 logan in mind!

Warnings?: angst, mentions of nightmares and troubled sleep, self doubt, slight depression? Comfort and fluff at the end? Idk how to tag this really.. Words: 1.5k Masterlist

People were scared of things they didn’t understand, of people that didn’t fit in to a societal box. And being a mutant? Well, you became the scariest thing of all. An unknown, a secret unshared in a room full of people.

To some, that fear, that little nagging doubt about what you are, what you could do.. fuelled somthing else entirely. Not fear, not quite, more an evil kind of curiosity. A fixation to poke and prod, bend and snap, push the limits of their fear regardless of yours in the name of science. Regardless that you too, we’re a person, different now yes, but still born of the same matter once.

Careless to the person you were, only the thing you could become. And even then, if you weren’t useful.. you were useless. Another mistake in a pile of scraped idea's, a caged creature begging for a way out.

You never wanted it, never asked to sit in a room and wonder why. Why you, why this. There was never a good enough answer, never a reason, not really. Some People were just cruel, vile and nasty, out for their own gain.. to test the limits of humanity.

But then it begged the question, what was humanity? Because it wasn’t this. It wasn’t the sleepless nights afraid to close your eyes. The sanctity of sleep a luxury. Peace a rationed thing.

Therefore It had become normal to find you in the dead of night, curled up the couch in front of the fireplace; whilst everyone else slumbered. Sometimes a book in hand, other times just your thoughts. Embered flames burning bright and warm, the crackle of wood often the only sound. It was how your relationship with Logan had bloomed.

From wordless nods walking down corridors to conversations and nights shared infront of the fire; he had become pleasant company, a friend you regarded higher- one who understood better- than most. He'd seen the same horrors behind his eyes, the years a tiresome thing.

So it's here you sit, like always, in your spot on the couch peering between pages of a book and the old grandfather clock, waiting for Logan.

It was late and he'd usually show up around now, your meetings held in a trusted pact- an agreement that if sleep held pain, this is where you'd find one another. It was up to choice then, if you'd relocate to one of your room's; if you felt the embrace of the others arms would quiet the horror, just for a while.

Because while it's true that you both may no longer be broken here in the mansion.. you'd always be bruised bone deep.

"Hey" Logan murmers softly, breaking you from your thoughts as you crane your neck toward him. Hes stood tall in the doorway, clad in sweats and a white vest, two steaming mugs in hand as he pads closer, handing you one over the back of the couch. "Figured you'd want a drink, tried to make it how you like"

You nod, taking a tentative sip with a greatful smile. Your eyes fluttering shut a moment as you swallow, relishing the warmth. Logan had indeed made it the exact way he knew you loved, and it swells your heart; the fondness you feel for the action- for him. "'S perfect, thank you.."

"Was nothin.." he shrugs, sighing into his own cup, back hitting the couch besides you. the cushions are a soft embrace for his aching body, the days seeming longer. He'd confessed one night, that the winter had never helped his affliction. That the cold air made his adamantium bones ache in a way that seemed impossible to describe. The sting of his knuckles that bit sharper with each snikt of his claws.

You shift quietly, book page marked and now placed on the coffee table. Logan watches silently as you reach for the soft blanket that lays dormant on the back. Your fingers adjusting the fabric carefully, unfolding and draping it until it rests over his knees too.

Logan smiles, a look reserved for these nights- for you- in his eyes. Its a soft, greatful, little thing; Unreminicent of his usual gruff demeanor. he lifts a large arm bringing it to rest snug behind your shoulders, tugging you closer.

Theres a comfortable silence that follows then, sat side by side. Logan simply watches as you pick the book back up, resuming your page. A warm feeling in his chest that he hasn't felt for a while as your eyes flit across the words.

He still cant understand how anyone could- would- hurt you. Would even dare harm a delicate hair on your head. It boils a possessive type of anger inside of him, that people, the very same that had hurt him, had dared. That they had ruined your trust, made you into something of their design, just like him.

And Its then that Logan cant help how his mouth moves, how it burts the words before he can even think to stop them, make them sound less jumbled. "You uh.. didn't deserve it you know?.. What they did"

The words feel foreign on his tongue but they hold meaning- one that you can feel as you cast your gaze to him.

Theres a look in your eyes he cant quite read as you hum honestly. "Neither did you. you know that right?"

And Logan knows. Hell its deep down but he knows. Yet hearing the words still bring an ache to his chest. Its beyond hard for him to even think about- admit really- even after all this time. He hadn't deserved it and neither had you. But that was certain weather perceived or not.

"Im.. Tired, logan" you trail quietly, casting your book aside as your head falls to rest on his shoulder. "Just.. So tired of being tired."

A shattering feeling stabs at Logan's chest from your admission, a sigh falling against your hair. "I know you are. Hell so am i but.." he pauses, trying to find the correct sentiment.

"We- you- can do this"

You can't help the exhaled sound that slips from you, not a laugh, not not a breath either. "Logan-" you try to protest, try to shift back inside your non vulnerable shell ready to shut down, but he has you locked next to him, fingers coming to rest on your jaw.

"No, look at me, Cmon" he murmurs, cupping and turning your cheek gently until your gaze meet his. "like you told me that once. Its one step at a time alright?"

You recall saying it, remember the context, and yet the idea of saying it to yourself feels foreign- as foreign as the words blurted from logans tongue.

He'd had a nightmare that night, had woken with a hoarse scream and his claws embedded in the plush mattress; pillows ruined with feathers everywhere, soaked in sweat. You'd come barreling in from downstairs having heard his sounds of distress, knowing the situation.

But.. You hadn't laughed, despite him being so surrounded by pillow feathers that he's sure he looked like big bird. You hadn't been cruel or judgemental, pitty in your eyes. You'd just been.. Well, you. Kind and understanding, reassuring him that it was okay, that he was safe. To take a shower and you'd sort the rest. It was from then that the fondness he felt for you had bloomed to something a little more inside of him.

You nod gently, a small, barely there smile on your lips now as you repeat. The light of the fire a soft glow in your eyes, tone a fraction more hopeful. "One step at a time"

"Yeah, thats it sweetheart" he smiles gently, a proud look in his own eye's, before his throat clears. A bashful look taking over his features as he continues, thumb absentmindedly stroking over your cheekbone. A distraction to the honesty he was going to drop "Besides.. you got this knucklehead who'd really like to keep this.. Us.. up"

You swallow, breath stuttering as your cheeks heat."You.. You would?" you sound a little surprised, yet a little hopeful, and It makes Logan smile, hearing your heart pounding in your chest.

"Yeah sweetheart" he breathes, voice a low gravel as he anxiously nods, before rushing to add. "if- if thats something you'd want?"

"Yes!" you exclaim, so excitedly it makes logan chuckle, the deep rumble joining the crackling fire. "I, uh, i mean.. ofcourse i do Logan"

Logans fingers tilt your face higher, his forehead coming to rest on yours as your fingers trace over his scruff coated jaw. "Things are better with you.." you murmer, breath puffing over his lips. "Lighter. You get it, get me.. This.."

He hardly lets you finish before his lips are pressed to yours, breaking the miniscule gap between them. His kiss so uncharacteristically gentle, like he was afraid one taste and you'd break.

"Things are better with you too.." he says quietly, forehead on yours, a smile against your mouth as his nose rubs your cheek.

And so Its that night you both agree, while wrapped up in one another, that things are better together. Better with each others shoulder to lean on. And despite the darkness that would still linger sometimes, that's all that mattered. You and him. Him and you.