#[friend] is going through a hard time right now with the death of her truly ancient cat (he was like 23 which is SO old for a cat)

[destinysbounty]

Wrote a oneshot! Inspired by this fanart made by @spinchip! Basic premise, what if Zane's sixth sense had warned him about his impending death beforehand?

(Read here on AO3!)

We Were Overdue (But It'll Be Over Soon)

Zane had never taken much issue with his sixth sense. It may have been cryptic and disorienting at the best of times, but it frequently proved itself a valuable asset to his team nonetheless. And Zane couldn’t bring himself to truly dislike anything that helped his friends.

That being said, sometimes he couldn’t help considering it a bit…annoying. Inconvenient. Bothersome, even. 

It’s hard to pinpoint exactly when it started, but if Zane were to hazard a guess he’d say it all began about two months after the Final Battle and roughly one week before his father’s second death.

It’s also hard to pinpoint exactly what ‘it’ even is, but the closest approximation would be to call it a ‘feeling’. The ‘feeling’, for lack of better term, was a deep, profound, almost cosmic sense of sheer dread that clung to his edges like a shadow. No, not even a shadow. It was more of a black pit with no end, yawning and stretching far into a dark, foreboding expanse. Foreboding for what, he didn’t know, and was anxious to find out. But just the presence of it alone was enough to saturate his circuits and catch on the clicks of his gears, like a snag in a sweater.

He initially wrote it off as a natural byproduct of his father’s impending departure. He’d already witnessed Dr. Julien succumb to old age once before, and it seemed reasonable that he’d be apprehensive about watching it happen again. And for a short while, this explanation mollified him somewhat. 

But then his father passed away.

And then they held a funeral.

And then Dareth subbed for his classes while Zane took five days of bereavement leave. 

(Wu had offered him upwards of six weeks, of course, citing the fact that Dr. Julien had been his sole companion for over 40 years and losing him was bound to be a particularly mournful experience, but Zane had politely declined. He’d already grieved for his father the first time, after discovering his memory switch, and while these past few months had been a wonderful vacation from the status quo, that’s all it was - a vacation. Now Dr. Julien was back to being dead again, and everything had returned to how it was meant to be. He’d always known it wouldn’t last, and he sought comfort in the fact that it'd lasted as long as it did. Not to mention he now had a loud, vibrant, loving family to fall back on should his grief overpower him. With this in mind, he felt confident that five days was all he needed.)

Surely after all that, the sense of dread would fade at least a little, right? If the feeling spawned out of fear of losing his loved one, then it made sense that the feeling would go away once the inevitable finally occurred. Like a release of tension, in a sense. 

Yet somehow, the dread didn’t go away. In some ways it actually got worse.

Once more Zane sought a rational explanation. Surely this was just an unexpected but not unwelcome part of the grieving process. He was only a nindroid, after all - far be it from him to claim any expertise regarding how emotions are supposed to work. But over time, as more troubling symptoms began to emerge, even that explanation lost its edge.

First was the occasional hot flashes - quick bursts of heat igniting in the false flesh of his palms, spiraling up through his wires and all the way to his heart. The flashes occurred sparingly, but just often enough (and just painfully enough) for him to seek diagnosis from Jay and Nya. But to their mutual confusion, none of them could find anything wrong with him.

“Well, you weren’t exactly built yesterday,” Nya said after yet another hour-long diagnostic procedure. She set her goggles down with a sigh, tenderly rubbing the red marks left behind under her eyes. “Your hardware is decades old at this point, and I highly doubt you kept up with maintenance while you had amnesia. You were bound to run into some issues sooner or later.”

Jay struck a conniving grin in response to Zane’s confused expression. “Basically, what she’s saying is that you’re dealing with old people problems, and we’re gonna have to fix you up with the robot equivalent of prune juice. Who knows, maybe we’ll even find a nice nindroid nursing home for you.”

“Oh, leave him alone, Jay." She gave her boyfriend a playful shove. "You gotta respect your elders, y’know.” And with that they both dissolved into fits of laughter, rendering Zane even more confused than he already was.

So while the rest of his family delighted in teasing him with a plethora of ‘old man’ remarks and other such jokes about his age, Nya and Jay set to work upgrading portions of his hardware - careful to avoid the more intricate aspects of Dr. Julien’s original design while still changing enough of it to boost Zane’s mechanical efficiency. 

Of course, while this dramatically enhanced his processing power and overall performance speed, it didn’t fix the mysterious spark-flashes.

The dread and the flashes weren’t his only symptoms either. He’d started growing anxious around spiderwebs - not spiders, just their webs, and anything that resembled their webs for that matter. And he would often dream of strange, incoherent nonsense that he never remembered in the morning, yet for some reason always left him scrambling up to a mirror to make sure his faceplate hadn’t loosened in his sleep. 

The two most concerning symptoms, however, were probably the following:

First, Zane’s quickly developing fear of gold. Every time he saw something that looked like bright, shimmering gold, the sensors in his face would sputter, and that burning sensation would light up in his palms again, and he would begin to hyperventilate, and his power core would throb in ways Pixal later explained were the nindroid equivalent of a panic attack. And worst of all, the dread would triple its pressure against his steel joints, asphyxiating his circuits into a caustic seizure. 

(According to his father, Zane’s breathing mechanism not only served to make his replication of humanity more authentic, but also as a form of manual air circulation. Moments of high stress and intense emotion could lead to his system overheating, so he was programmed to breathe more when under duress to prevent this from happening. He used to think it was a bit silly, pointless even, but after experiencing the intense heat caused by both the spark-flashes and the phantom melting sensation that accompanied the sight of gold, now he was just glad for any relief he could get.)

The second especially troubling symptom was also the only one he never dared share with others: his developing fear of Lloyd .

This one didn’t have a rational explanation, no matter how many hours he devoted to parsing out for one. For reasons unknown, the mere thought of Lloyd would cause the dread to slice into him with an unmatched intensity, like wire cutters slicing away the thermoplastic insulation from the nerves in his hands. The flashes and the heat and the gold would overwhelm him all at once, overloading his neural drive with so much false input that he had to run off into another room whenever Lloyd came to visit.

Zane quickly got better at finding excuses to leave, and later he learned how to bury his fear altogether, so as to spare Lloyd the pain of this unfair phobia. Lying was immoral and Zane would never forgive himself doing so, but as much as it pained him to admit it, deceiving his friends on this matter had certainly come in handy. Lloyd didn’t deserve to think Zane was afraid of him, or that Zane didn’t trust him. He’d saved the world! He’d sacrificed his own childhood just to protect Zane and the rest of their family! And more than that, he was their little brother. Chosen one status and golden destiny notwithstanding, he had earned Zane’s affection simply by being family.

It was probably just a glitch. Like Nya said, his hardware was old, and it had been placed under a lot of strain since becoming a ninja. He just needed to let his OS sort itself out, and soon everything would go back to normal.

Right?

After a particularly intensive system update yielded no improvements, Zane was forced to reconcile the one truth he’d feared most: that all of these symptoms weren’t due to an issue with his hardware but were somehow foretelling a tragedy yet to come.

Sharing this realization with the rest of the team had set everyone one edge for a while and rightly so, as Zane’s premonitions were never wrong - but after three weeks passed with no signs of his dread becoming reality, the others steadily abandoned their apprehension and moved on. And Zane would have moved on too, but the dread addled to his side like chewing gum stuck to the bottom of a shoe.

When the Digital Overlord revealed himself, Zane was equal parts horrified and relieved. Horrified for obvious reasons - the Overlord was back, he was now targeting Lloyd specifically, he had Wu in his custody, and he was using modified versions of Zane’s own blueprint against him. But he was also relieved because finally, after nearly a year of watching and waiting with baited breath, his premonitions had at long last received their payoff. His dread was because the Overlord was still alive, his fear of gold was because of the Overlord’s plans to make himself corporeal using golden power, and his fear of Lloyd was due to the curse of the golden master and the fact that Lloyd used to be the golden master. All his premonitions finally, finally, had a rational explanation. 

And yet, still the dread didn’t fade. The symptoms remained as loud and obnoxious as they’d always been. Fragments of visceral, forgotten dreams still clouded his CPU and cluttered his storage drive. Spark-flashes still singed his servomotors and grinded at his actuators, threatening to melt the fake skin off his hands and burn the metal framework underneath. The dread still infected his receivers and emitters, tangling itself into a mess of inputs and outputs, and coloring all his sensory data with a sepia filter of foreboding. 

He knew what this meant, of course. It meant that no matter what the Overlord was doing now, no matter what he’d already done to the likes of Pixal and Lloyd and Mr. Borg and Wu, it was bound to get worse. Much, much worse.

Sometimes, he really did find his sixth sense to be quite troublesome. 

But for all the pain and misery it had caused him for the better part of a year, he couldn’t bring himself to dislike any of it. Because of the nervous edge he'd been dangling over all this time, he knew to be ready. He knew to never fully let his guard down. And if even the tiniest millisecond of anticipation gave them a much-needed advantage, then he would rather spend all his time an anxious, dread-ridden wreck than ruin his friends’ chances of survival.

It was that same split-second advantage, that unease manifesting as preparedness, that allowed him to back away from the Overlord’s grasp just in time, while all his friends became ensnared in the new golden master's tentacle grip one by one. 

Standing there on the edge of that roof, watching his friends struggle and gasp as the Overlord squeezed the life out of them, the dread returned anew. And it sang into his heart in ways it had never done before. No more was he haunted by disjointed visions and nebulous premonitions. All of it had fled his systems at once, circuitry now almost painfully bereft of the foreboding that had tormented him for so long. And in its place came a new feeling. 

No, ‘feeling’ wasn’t the right word. It was…it was as if someone had taken his spirit, his soul, his conscious mind, and harshly yanked it out from its hiding place nestled between his gears, and laid it bare for all to see. 

He didn’t know he had a soul to begin with. And yet here it was, twinkling bright from its perch inside his power core. Singing to him.

This is it, it said.  This is what you’ve been waiting for. 

“The armor!” Cole cried out, wheezing as the Overlord’s glowing tendril tightened around his chest. “Why isn’t it working?!”

The Overlord’s warped voice came through in a sickening perversion that scraped against Zane’s ears. “Because your time is over!” 

Around him, golden webs weaved the city streets into a tapestry of chaos. Down below, Serpentine helped guide their fellow civilians down into the sewers. Just in front of him, his friends struggled in vain to resist the sheer power of the Overlord.

And inside him, a knowing chorus sang.

This is it. This is what you’ve been waiting for.

That much was true. For better or worse, this was exactly what he’d been anxiously awaiting all this time. This moment right here was what his sixth sense had spent the last year preparing him for. 

The golden net on which the Overlord stood resembled the spiderwebs Zane had grown to fear. The glowing energy that rent the air asunder and suffocated his teammates - his family - was the reason gold had begun to scare him so much (the reason Lloyd had begun to scare him so much).

The only symptom yet to explain itself were the spark-flashes. Originating from his palms and spreading out into the rest of him and dissecting his artificial skin with a fierce destruction, converging on his heart and threatening to choke everything that made him whole in a thick layer of gold.

Coming from his…hands…

Thanks to the Golden Armor, the Overlord was nigh unstoppable. The only thing capable of defeating him was something or someone just as powerful. And it’d be a gamble, with low odds of success, but if he could jump the distance… 

No, that was - that was ridiculous. It would destroy him! His heart couldn’t even handle powering a measly spacecraft, what hope did he have of withstanding all that Golden Power long enough to actually wield it ?

A memory came to him, unbidden.

“That’s why it’s called hope, Zane.”

Zane took a deep breath. At times like this, he appreciated that his father had built him with the ability to do so.

This is it. This is what you’ve been waiting for.

You know what to do.

“Support me, friends,” he said. “For one last time.” And, armed with nothing but love for his family, he jumped.

The pain from his premonitions had always originated at his palms. Now he knew why. 

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Disappearance

Shinobu Kochou x She/Her Reader

A/N: This is a request filled for you know who you are👋😊 Sorry if it seems clunky in some parts I gave it my best effort! Might be a little ooc as well, idk grief and similar feeling are hard to communicate sometimes. I hope you find something to like about this! Warning: Manga spoilers ahead! Read at your own risk! Word Count: 6,688

Shinobu just wanted to be alone.

It had only been a few weeks since Kanae’s death, and it was still very fresh in her mind. Though no matter how much time passed, the intensity of such an impactful event was sure to carry with Shinobu until her own dying breath. The smell of iron rich blood still choked her airways and she could still feel the weight of her sister propped up in her arms, could still hear her gurgles as her body fought to breathe… and as if that wasn’t enough, she had not a moment to spare on herself to process and grieve properly before being thrown back into the fray.

An estate to run, young girls in just as much pain as herself to comfort and care for, a new position to uphold, patients to see to, hypotheses to test, a name to honor and revenge to complete.

There were simply not enough hours in a day.

Shinobu didn’t even remember making a conscious decision to leave the infirmary early that morning. She had woken up to one of her patients coding and was unable to save them. She remembered leaving the body in the care of the Kakushi before taking her leave, but she had only registered that she had gone outside when she accidentally spooked a few birds and they flew up high above the trees.

Instead of going back, she allowed herself to travel further down the path until she could no longer see the estate through the trees and then, she went a little further still. Finding a small pond, she sat on the mossy bank near the water’s edge.

“Just five more minutes.” She promised herself. Five more minutes, and she would suck it up and head back to work.

“Hey! Are you good down there?”

Shinobu schooled her expression into a polite smile, though try as she might, she could not will away the vein that strained against her forehead. She peered over her shoulder and had to quickly close her eyes to avoid the dirt the intruder had kicked up when they slid down the small hill.

“Oops, sorry about that.” (Y/n) laughed sheepishly, patting away some stray chunks of dirt from Shinobu’s haori.

She had been on her way to the Butterfly Estate for some simple first aid, but when she caught sight of a lone person sitting despondently near the pond below, she just had to go investigate.

“It’s quite alright.” Shinobu assured, patting off the rest of the dirt herself. “I’m just trying to have a quiet moment to myself is all.” She added unsubtly.

“Oh! I can be quiet!” (Y/n) plopped down next to Shinobu and stared out at the water, prompting Shinobu to bite the inside of her cheek.

Despite the unwanted company, Shinobu stayed and did her best to ignore the other girl, but her eyes did stray from the water a couple times. She took note of the other girl’s demon slayer uniform and roughed up appearance and concluded that she must have completed a mission last night.

“Are you hurt?” She asked. It would just be another failure to add on to the morning if she ignored an injured slayer while she attempted to brood.

“Not too bad. Not like you seem to be anyway.” (Y/n) tossed a stray pebble into the water and watched the ripples disturb the duckweed surface.

“Pardon?”

“You just look like you could use a friend right now.”

Shinobu was baffled, though she didn’t let it show beneath her smile.

“I don’t believe we’ve ever met before now. How friendly does that truly make us?” She teased.

“My name is (L/n) (Y/n), what’s yours?”

“Kochou Shinobu.” She humored. She could see a flash of recognition pass quickly over (Y/n)’s face. Undoubtedly she knew of her sister. It was rare to find a demon slayer who didn’t. She waited for the condolences to start spilling as they always did, but they never came.

“Boom! First step to becoming friends achieved!” (Y/n) clapped her scrapped up hands together loudly and a quiet giggle escaped Shinobu’s lips unbidden.

“How tactful of you.” She motioned for (Y/n) to present her hands to her so she could treat and bandage them with the little medical bag she always carried on her person. “And what, pray tell, is step two?”

“Eeeee…” (Y/n) watched Shinobu work as she tried to come up with an answer, finally she shrugged her shoulders and said, “You know, we talk and stuff.”

“What’s ‘stuff’?”

“Like, hang out and stuff.”

“Again, what’s ‘stuff’?”

“Ah, I don’t know!” (Y/n) flung her arms up into the air, bringing Shinobu’s roll of bandages with her, “We could be doing whatever you want Kochou-san. I’m not picky.”

“Oh, then perhaps you would like to come back to my estate with me to read from my extensive collection of medical texts and help me take notes.” Shinobu wanted to laugh at the unenthusiastic face (Y/n) tried to hide, but she held it in. “Not your cup of tea? Then how about botany?”

(Y/n) made another face, so expressive that one, though it wasn’t as disinterested as the last face she pulled. She seemed like she really wanted this to work out, and she did tell Shinobu they could do whatever they wanted… if Shinobu wanted to do something boring, then she would endure.

“…Are there pictures?”

“Some of the books have sample pictures, yes.” Shinobu almost felt bad, but this was the most fun she had in quite sometime.

(Y/n) blew out a large sigh and shook her head, bringing her hands back to Shinobu so she could finish wrapping them up.

“Alright, if that’s what you want to do today, I’m in. When it’s my turn though, you best believe that we’re going to do something way more fun.”

“Your turn?” Shinobu scoffed, snipping the bandage reel and tucking the tail away.

“Well, Yeah! Of course! How do you think friendship works, Kochou?” (Y/n) stood up and released and exasperated sigh, shaking her head as she offered her hand to help Shinobu up, “Come on then, let’s go do your nerd plans, you nerd.”

Shinobu’s eye twitched subtly, but she accepted the hand offered to her and rose to her feet. The smile (Y/n) gave her was light and genuine as she tugged her in the direction of Shinobu’s home. Though storm clouds were still clinging to her mind, they dissipated under the warmth and brightness (Y/n) shone her way.

She still had her doubts, however. A nagging pessimism in the back of her mind telling her not to bother. That this girl was either looking for power and influence or that she would disappear and be forgotten before the week was out. There was another voice, or a feeling rather, in her chest that rejoiced at being noticed. That there was someone who knew she was hurt deep inside where no one could see and wanted to distract her for a little while. And for that she was thankful.

***

Two Years Later

Shinobu held her chin up on interlaced fingers as she stared down at the small box on her desk. Just looking at it made her heart quiver and cheeks flush a rosy pink. Carefully, she opened the box that held her commissioned item to the light, a lovely necklace of the colors she most associated with the relationship her and (Y/n) shared as they grew together.

Two years, for two years (Y/n) had stuck around like an incessant gnat and now she couldn’t imagine her life without her, as scary as that was to admit. Soon, (Y/n) was going to become a Hashira and Shinobu couldn’t be more excited, yet incredibly nervous. She had told herself months ago that once (Y/n) became a Hashira, she would confess her then budding feelings to her. Skip ahead to the present with (Y/n)’s promotion right on the horizon, and those budding feelings had become flowers in full bloom and she was terrified.

Shinobu could be rather intuitive when she tried, part of her was certain (Y/n) felt the same, their friendship was different from any other she had. They had even been mistaken as a couple several times over the years already. Still, she had that pessimistic voice inside her head that whispered it would never work out, that she was reading too much into things.

Shinobu exhaled through her nose, delicately placing the necklace back into its box. As nervous as she was, she still managed to smile. Then she heard the loud, quickly approaching footsteps that she knew all too well and quickly shoved the rest of the necklace into the box and hurriedly hid it in the back of her drawer, closing it just before the the door to her office slid open with a hard thwack!

“Boo!” (Y/n) yelled, laughing at Shinobu’s slight tilt of her head. It wasn’t much, but (Y/n) could feel just how unimpressed the Hashira was with her actions. “Did I scare you?”

“I could hear you coming a from a mile away, lead feet.” Shinobu smiled sweetly.

“Ow, okay. Rude.” (Y/n) moved behind Shinobu’s desk and moved some papers out of the way so she could sit on the table as close to Shinobu as she could. “What kind of nerd stuff are you doing in here anyway. If I lived here, I would always be out in the gardens on a beautiful day like this.”

“You practically live here already. Besides, some of us have actual work to do. Something that you are sure to understand soon enough.” Shinobu teased, poking (Y/n) playfully in the ribs. “How are you feeling by the way?”

“Weirdly excited and nervous at the same time.” (Y/n) said, catching Shinobu’s hand and holding it so she couldn’t poke her anymore. “I’m so ready to get out there, but I can’t shake this feeling that I might just forget everything I’ve learned and totally choke,” She laughed half-heartedly.

“Think of it as any other mission. Don’t get in your head. You’ll do just fine.” Shinobu assured.

The timid smile (Y/n) gave her in return was not enough for Shinobu. She stood from her chair, and with (Y/n) still sitting on her desk, they were nearly at the same height. She brought their free hands together to match the ones that still sat connect on (Y/n)’s thigh and squeezed them reassuringly.

“I’ll take lunch in the garden with you if you promise to stop looking at me like that.”

(Y/n) noticeably perked up a bit at the idea and her smile grew. She slid off of the desk and hugged Shinobu, who eagerly returned the embrace.

“That sounds great! Can we go right now?”

“Yes, yes, as soon as you stop strangling me.” Shinobu giggled, trying to push (Y/n) off of her.

They had a pleasant time in the garden together, leaning against one another while enjoying each other’s company. They had talked for hours and lost track of the time. They had even fallen asleep, only to be awoken by (Y/n)’s crow a couple of hours before the sun was to set.

“Welp, time to hit the road.” (Y/n) stretched her arms high over her head and then flopped her head back down upon Shinobu’s shoulder. “Thanks for today.”

“Anytime. I will be eagerly awaiting your return. Don’t keep me waiting too long now.” Shinobu warned, petting (Y/n)’s hair.

“Oh I could never,” (Y/n) grinned, “you’re stuck with me. You’ll be saving me a seat at Hashira meetings in no time. Enjoy your peace while you still can.”

“Ah, what a scary threat.” Shinobu stood and pulled (Y/n) to her feet as well, locking her into another hug. “Be safe.”

“I will.”

(Y/n)’s crow screeched impatiently and dive-bombed their heads, having witnessed similar scenes several times over the years.

“Okay, okay! I’m going!” (Y/n) groaned, shooing the bird away with her arm.

She pulled away from Shinobu slightly, then paused, biting her lip in thought. Before Shinobu could ask her what was in her mind, (Y/n)’s lips swiftly pecked her cheek and withdrew just as quickly.

“Loveyoubye!” (Y/n) said in a rush, leaving Shinobu standing with her lips slightly parted in shock.

“Love you…” Shinobu said in return, and though it was quiet and (Y/n) was several feet away by the time she got it out, the other girl looked back at Shinobu over her shoulder as she ran, her eyes alight with happiness. The sight made Shinobu’s heart flutter. This was what Kanae had wanted for her, to find love, to be happy.

It was too bad that this would be the last time she ever saw or heard from (Y/n) again.

Days became weeks, weeks to months… Shinobu was beside herself when they had given up the search. She couldn’t even bring herself to go to the funeral. They couldn’t even find her body… what was the point in crying in front of a vacant plot? The bitterness, anger, and self resentment Shinobu held had never felt heavier.

She had been out searching every night she could, but her responsibilities always called her back before she could really dig into her investigations. She never cried harder than when she received the order to stop her search. She stayed in bed for as long as she dared, clutching the box with the necklace resting inside. Filled with anguish, she built up her unscalable walls and put on her best smile as she went to work in the infirmary the next morning. She would keep everyone at an arm’s distance and never open up her heart like that again.

“What you wished for is impossible Nee-san.” Shinobu’s voice strained as she spoke before her sister’s shrine, “As long as demons exist, there is no such thing as living a long, happy life. There are no happy endings.” She took in a shuddering breath, “Take care of her for me, wherever she is.” As she spoke she could still taste the wisteria petals on her tongue,

“It won’t be terribly long until I see you both again.”

***

Present Day: Four Years Since First Meeting, Two Since Disappearance

Shinobu watched Tanjirou, Inosuke and Zenitsu run around the estate grounds with a pleased smile. Their training was moving along quite nicely and even as boisterous as they were, it brought life to the usually serenely quiet estate. She took note of where the sun sat in the sky and continued on her way. She needed to stock up on a few things in one of the nearby villages and hoped to be back before the sun set completely.

That did not happen.

The apothecary she usually went to was closed so she had to go to the next village over, a whole extra two hour journey. It was annoying, but she needed those supplies and she could take care of herself, regardless of the time of day.

She entered the shop just before they closed for the night and gathered the items she needed quickly. Then when she had what she came for, she made her way to the to the front of the store to pay and be on her way, standing behind a cloaked woman who was paying for her own items.

“There you go, have a nice night.” The clerk said, handing her a paper sack.

“Thank you.”

Something about that person’s voice made Shinobu’s ears prickle. Before she could try to place why it sounded so familiar, the woman turned too suddenly and rammed into Shinobu, almost sending her and her items to the floor, but luckily the same person who almost sent her to the floor caught her arms.

“Oh, I’m so—! …sorry.”

“No harm done.” Shinobu assured, subtly trying to catch a glimpse of the woman’s face. The hood of her cloak hung low, casting shadows over her features.

“…E-excuse me,” the woman mumbled, breaking the brief spell of silence they seemed to have fallen under. She withdrew from Shinobu and stiffly walked out the door.

Shinobu watched her go, unsure of what she was feeling. For some reason, she felt the need to go after her. When she purchased the supplies she needed, she thanked the clerk and stepped outside, shivering a bit in the cool, night air. She pulled her haori closer against her back and looked around for the cloaked woman. She thought she saw her heading into the forest and pursued at a distance.

Shinobu wasn’t sure what was possessing her to follow this stranger, but she couldn’t help herself. She felt drawn to her voice for some reason. If they could speak just a few moments more, then maybe she could understand what was so familiar about her.

The woman stopped in a small clearing and Shinobu hid behind a nearby tree, she watched her look around. After she was satisfied, she turned her back on Shinobu’s position and let down her hood, her other arm rose as a perch for a crow that had been circling overhead. It was no common crow, however. In fact, it took all of Shinobu’s will power not to blow her cover with a heavy gasp. She would recognize those unusual white speckles against those black wings anywhere.

It was (Y/n)’s crow, thought to have perished alongside its slayer since it never returned to the Master. Shinobu had to remind herself to breathe as she watched the woman tie a small bag to the bird’s leg and—

She was about to send it off somewhere! Shinobu couldn’t have that. Her heart weighed heavy with guilt ever since she had to give up her search for (Y/n), but if she had that crow, maybe, just maybe, she could have a definitive answer as to what fate had befallen the woman she had wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

“Stop!” She called sternly, just before the woman sent the crow back up to the sky.

The woman startled, an audible gasp left her lips, yet she did not turn around.

“You are not in trouble, yet.” She stressed the, ‘yet’. “Where did you get that crow?” Shinobu demanded, walking briskly into the clearing.

Upon hearing Shinobu’s approaching footsteps, the woman flung her arm high and the crow flew off, much to Shinobu’s dismay. Then she bolted. Shinobu was furious now.

“That bird was entrusted to someone important to me and may very well be the only lead I have to understanding what happened to her!” She shouted, pursuing after the woman, “Come back!”

She did not stop, in fact she picked up speed. This woman was no ordinary civilian. No matter, Shinobu was not someone to be easily beat in a foot race. She was not in the mood to play around tonight. She threw her bag to the ground and kicked hard off of the dirt. The distance between them faded second by second until—

“I told you to stop!” Shinobu leapt onto the woman, tackling her to the ground. A struggle ensued. Shinobu placed all of her weight against the person’s spine and wrestled with her arms to pin them above the person’s head. It was going much easier than she would have thought, like the person didn’t want to hurt her even if she seemed desperate to escape. Shinobu didn’t care to linger, instead she griped the hood that had fallen back over the person’s head in the struggle and she felt the person freeze beneath her.

“Please,” she wheezed, “please, don’t.”

“A little late for begging now.” Shinobu tugged the fabric back and pulled the woman’s head to the side so she could she her face. Her blood ran cold.

Her face, they had the same face. Her eyes were screwed tightly shut, if she would just—

“Open your eyes, now.” Shinobu demanded, her voice crackling at the end.

Slowly, she complied. Her eyes were glossy with unshed tears. The color was off, but…

“You… you can’t be.” Shinobu felt sick upon registering the silted pupils and sharp nails and teeth, she could not say more.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” the demon lamented, “I never wanted you to see me like this, I’m so sorry!”

Shinobu’s grip on the demon’s wrists went soft, and her shoulders went slack. This was surreal, uncanny… something in between, and Shinobu was beside herself. She stared into the side of the demon’s head for several seconds before a tear escaped her eye and broke upon the demon’s cheek, prompting her to look up at Shinobu with helpless, apologetic eyes.

Tentatively, Shinobu released the demon’s hands altogether and stroked her knuckles against her cheek before cupping it in her quivering fingers. A short cry escaped her lips and her body collapsed atop the demon, her forehead knocking into the side of the demon’s head, possible dangers be damned. If she decided to take a bite out of her, they could go together and just be done with all of this life’s bullshit anyway.

“Where did you go?” She asked, her voice the most hoarse that it had been in years, “What happened to you, (Y/n)?”

A choked sob resounded in Shinobu’s ear and she shut her eyes tight to try to keep more tears from falling. She wanted answers, but she could wait just a bit longer. Just a little bit longer until they had both sorted themselves out a bit.

***

Once they were relatively fine, and even that was probably too generous a way to describe it, Shinobu allowed (Y/n) to sit up on her knees and really got a good look at her. Beneath the thick travel cloak she still wore her slayer’s uniform. Even her sword was tucked under her cloak, undetectable to most. Besides small changes to her physique, she looked no different from the day she had left, untouched by time.

(Y/n) cleared her throat uncomfortably, bringing Shinobu back into the present, and explained everything from the beginning. She had gone on her mission and had been successful in killing the demon that had been her objective. She was going to head home, but that demon, though strong and no means an easy fight, had simply been a decoy that a cowardly Upper Moon had used to gage her skill. He was leagues stronger than her, and she was defeated and left for dead. As she laid there bleeding out, a woman, a demon doctor, came to her aid.

“I thought she was you at first,” she had disclosed, “I was so out of it at that point… I just kept saying I wish we had more time and… she turned me.”

Shinobu gripped her pant leg tightly, angry words for this so called doctor hot on her tongue for stealing (Y/n)’s humanity away, yet she stayed silent and continued to listen.

(Y/n) detailed her time with the demon doctor and her associate. The Doctor, as was all (Y/n) was willing to describe her as, to protect her, took care of her and made sure she never harmed a single human and that held true for as long as she had been a demon. She had aspirations to go back, to reach out, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not when she had become what she was supposed to destroy.

“You could have come back, you should have. I would have…” Shinobu’s words died on her tongue.

“You would have killed me.” (Y/n) said, though not unkindly, a sad smile upon her lips, “And in turn, that would have destroyed you. I couldn’t let that happen. It would have been dangerous and careless of me to show up as I am now. I shouldn’t have been so careless tonight either.”

“Things are different now!” Shinobu assured, almost desperately, “There is a demon girl, Nezuko,”

“You know Nezuko?”

They talked further, about their connections between the Kamado siblings and before long, (Y/n) felt a familiar instinctual dread that came when the sun was soon to rise. Dawn would be upon them in an hour or so. Shinobu seemed to sense her unease, and latched on to her hand.

“Don’t leave.” She pleaded.

“Shinobu, I can’t stay.”

“Come with me. Come back home, please.” Shinobu persisted, “I will talk with Oyakata-sama, you will be sanctioned like Nezuko, you will be protected, I promise. Just please, don’t leave me again I won’t be able to handle it.”

“Shinobu…” (Y/n) bit the inside of her lip. She had no doubt Shinobu’s word was true. She felt awful. She had sent her samples to Tamayo through her crow, but she was supposed to be heading back herself. But looking into Shinobu’s eyes, she couldn’t bring herself to say no. Her crow would find her again, and she would send Tamayo further correspondence then. Yushirou was sure to be happy if she disappeared for awhile. She squeezed Shinobu’s hand, and nodded.

“Okay,” she relented, “okay.”

***

Being back at the Butterfly Estate after so long was strange and made (Y/n) and all the other residents who had known her emotionally exhausted. (Y/n) was happy to catch up with Tanjirou and Nezuko, but the boy could smell the discontent in the air since her re-indoctrination.

Shinobu, though she had pleaded for (Y/n) to come back with her, had gone cold in the weeks that followed. She was angry with her, that much she could guess. There were a lot of feelings jumbled up between them, it would take time to be as close as they had been. If they could even get back to what they had and where they had been heading, (Y/n) didn’t know. As she was now, she couldn’t blame Shinobu for shying away.

She did her best to give Shinobu the space she wanted while also being available to her at any time. It was difficult, but (Y/n) knew better than to think that suddenly coming back in to Shinobu’s life like this would pick up where they had left off.

One day as (Y/n) wandered aimlessly around the estate, Shinobu fell into stride beside her, an impassive smile upon her lips.

“What can you tell me about the demon doctor Tamayo?” She asked in a hushed tone, though no one was around.

(Y/n)’s stride faltered. She had never given Tamayo’s name to Shinobu, not because she didn’t trust her, but because she wanted to protect Tamayo and the work she was doing.

“How do you know her name?”

“Oyakata-sama has tasked me with a very delicate operation. I will be working with her to develop a drug to kill Kibutsuji and one to return demons back to their human physiology.”

“Really? That’s great!” (Y/n) hugged Shinobu without thinking. “You two are the smartest people I know! Together, I just know you’ll find something.” Then, she seemed to remember herself and moved to withdraw from Shinobu, an apology already forming on her lips.

Shinobu held her by the elbow however, keeping her close.

“I want you with us when we start this project. Can I count on you?”

(Y/n) didn’t even have to think about it. She gave Shinobu her word and her heart fluttered at the small, yet honest, smile Shinobu gave her.

***

Shinobu did not like Tamayo and Yushirou, that much (Y/n) could easily see. She seemed especially irked when Tamayo spoke with (Y/n) in particular, even going as far to interrupt them and call (Y/n) to her to help with something that didn’t really require the attention of two people.

Shinobu’s possessiveness surprised (Y/n) though it really shouldn’t have. The way Shinobu saw it, while she was busy working and trying to move on from (Y/n), Tamayo was busy saving her life and nursing her back to health. Something that should have been Shinobu’s duty. The guilt of not trying harder to find (Y/n) still ate at her conscience. Every little touch the demon doctor gave (Y/n) twisted at Shinobu’s heart. She had been distant with (Y/n) because she felt undeserving of her, but she couldn’t stand her closeness with the demon doctor, she was at odds with herself.

When (Y/n) confronted her about it, Shinobu was honest, as hard as it was to admit, and shared her insecurities.

“I know I have no right to be so upset, but the way I feel, I can’t push it away when it comes to you.”

“Shinobu, none of this is your fault. What happened to me is not your burden to bear.” (Y/n) assured, taking Shinobu’s hands in hers, “I think we’ve both been avoiding each other out of guilt. We’ve been telling ourselves how we should have done things differently, but here we are together now and we’ve suddenly got cold feet.” (Y/n) laughed despite herself, getting a smile out of Shinobu.

“I appreciate Tamayo-san and all she has done for me. She is a very dear friend, motherly, but I don’t feel for her the way I feel for you. I still love you, Shinobu. I just don’t know where I stand in your mind.”

“I love you, too.” Shinobu gripped tightly at the back of (Y/n)’s uniform and buried her face against her neck, “I never stopped.”

Let the healing begin in earnest.

***

“Shinobu, you’re crazy.” (Y/n) groaned, exasperated. “I’m not going, and that’s that.”

“You will go, because it is how I can best keep you safe while you take your medicine.” Shinobu refuted, poking (Y/n) hard in the chest.

As the days go the final battle drew closer, they had developed a promising drug they believed would cure demons and turn them back into humans. Shinobu expected (Y/n) to got to the safe house with Nezuko to take the drug someplace safe, but (Y/n) was dead set against it.

“Nezuko can’t fight with us because if Kibutsuji got a hold of her immunity to the sun, we’d all be toast. I don’t have that. I can still fight and as long as I have this body, I cannot be easily killed.” (Y/n) argued.

“But you can still be killed. If I lost you again—“

“I don’t want to lose you either! Come on, Shinobu I thought you were smart!” Before Shinobu could lash back (Y/n) continued. “Every time we kiss, my mouth burns.”

“Hm?” Shinobu blinked, a bit thrown off by the sudden subject change.

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing? Shinobu, I’m a demon. I can tell you’re chocked full of wisteria because it lingers on your breath and irritates my skin.”

Shinobu clammed up, she moved away from (Y/n)’s approach, but did not try very hard when the demon persisted. (Y/n) cupped her cheeks, encouraging Shinobu to look her in the eyes, she put on a brave smile.

“If you think I’m going to let you do this alone, you’re not nearly as smart as I thought you were.”

“I think I like it much better when you praise my intellect.” Shinobu tried to lighten the mood. “I did help create a cure for demons you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, my little nerd, I know. You aren’t getting out of this one. We are doing this together. I’m not going to be apart from you ever again. Come hell or high water.”

“So dramatic.” Shinobu attempted to tease.

“I’m not dramatic, I’m being honest. Now kiss me.”

“You just told me—“

“It’s worth it!”

Shinobu complied.

***

Shinobu and (Y/n) had been on their way back to Oyakata-sama’s estate when the whole Earth shook with the blast of a powerful explosion. Taking barely a moment to collect themselves, they burst forward in a great rush of speed. The Master, hopefully it wasn’t too late!

Before they made it to the Ubuyashiki Estate, a doorway opened the ground beneath them and they fell inside. They made sure the other was okay, and rose back to their feet, surveying the new environment they had found themselves in.

“The smell of blood is practically choking me.” (Y/n) observed, putting her hand over her nose and mouth as she tried to focus.

“It is putrid.” Shinobu agreed. “I think it’s getting stronger in this direction.

They went to investigate, soon coming upon a door where (Y/n) said the scent was its strongest yet. Shinobu slid the door open a few centimeters and peeked inside.

“Oh?” The grotesque chewing noise ceased and rainbow colored irises found Shinobu’s through the small opening of the door. She pulled it open the rest of the way, allowing the two demons to size each other up as well.

“Nakime-chan brought a snack, and who are you? Certainly not one of us… your aura is strange for a demon.” The demon blinked owlishly.

“Please,” a woman from the pile of corpses writhed, struggling to get to her knees, “help me!”

“Quiet now, I’m talking with my guests.” Douma admonished lightly, really, did that girl have any manners?

He looked back to the door, and he noticed the girl from the doorway had vanished, he drew his fan and waved it in front of his face, she was quite fast, but not nearly fast enough.

“I’ve got you. Are you alright?” Shinobu gave the girl a reassuring smile that quickly disappeared when the girl went slack against her, blood flowing from her like water.

“You can just leave her there. I’ll get to her later.” Douma waved his fan lazily as (Y/n) rushed to Shinobu and put a hand on her shoulder.

They hadn’t even seen him move. Did he strike before Shinobu got to her, or just when she landed? (Y/n) looked down at Shinobu and followed her transfixed gaze to the demon’s golden fans and blood stained hair.

What luck, if you could call it that. They were in the den of the demon that had killed Kanae.

Shinobu started in on him immediately, berating him and cursing him all the while the demon wore the same placid smile. (Y/n) did her best to keep Shinobu from doing anything reckless, earning her Douma’s attention as well which only made Shinobu angrier. She pumped his head and body full of poison, but her broke it down faster than it could eat at him.

(Y/n) took all the blows she could for Shinobu’s sake, regenerating as quickly as she could when her sword was not fast enough to clash against Douma’s fans. The chill of Douma’s demon art was no joke. Even as strong as the two of them were, he kept up with them easily and seemed to be toying with them.

Shinobu was growing fatigued. She knew what she had to do, but (Y/n) was fighting her as much as she was Douma. If she would just let Douma devourer her and then strike when the poison set in, they would win! But (Y/n) refused. They were not to that point yet. They had to keep trying together!

The tide began to change in their favor when Kanao and Inosuke burst in the join in on the attack. Together, the four of them managed to put Douma against the ropes. Finally, Douma slipped up when (Y/n) surprised him with her blood art, not far off from Tamayo’s own, and Kanao sent his head flying. To their immense relief, his body began crumbling away.

“We did it!” (Y/n) gasped, a disbelieving laugh escaping her. She went to pump her arms in the air, but quickly remembered that she didn’t exactly have any at the moment, but they would grow back in time.

“Haha! He was no match for us!” Inosuke crowed, shaking (Y/n) around by the shoulders.

“Hey, careful! Don’t breathe in my demon art, it’s still potent!”

“He’s dying.” Shinobu murmured, almost disbelievingly. She watched the corpse fade to dust as Kanao moved to stand beside her and hold her hand tightly. Shinobu pulled her in for a hug and Kanao allowed herself to weep quietly in sheer relief.

By the time the four of them made it back to the surface, the sun had rose and Shinobu did her best to cover (Y/n) up and keep her in the shade of the underground tunnel they had traveled.

“Something is wrong with Gonpachirou!” Inosuke yelled, running into the fray.

“Is that Nezuko?” (Y/n) squinted from where she hid in the darkness.

“Tanjirou and Nezuko need help.” Kanao moved to help, her eyes were still a little fuzzy, but she couldn’t let what was unfolding continue!

“Kanao! Take this!” (Y/n) yelled, tossing a familiar vial to the girl. She didn’t need to ask what it was and Shinobu couldn’t stop her from running into the danger zone.

“(Y/n), you needed that to become human again!” Shinobu yelled. “I gave Kanao the last vial just in case Nezuko needed it, you didn’t need to give her yours.”

“Hey,” (Y/n) coaxed, “it’s okay. Tanjirou looks like he needs it more than I do. We can make another if we have to. I can push off being human a little longer.”

“Those ingredients were rare, (Y/n) and I don’t know where Tamayo-san is. Who knows how long it would take to recreate it.”

(Y/n) looked down at her arms and frowned, her hands were still reforming, but she gave Shinobu an awkward pat anyway. Luckily, Kanao only needed the one and was able to give (Y/n) the vial Shinobu had entrusted to her before the battle had begun. When everything had calmed down a few days later, Shinobu administered the drug to (Y/n) home at the Butterfly Estate and stuck by her side as (Y/n) fell into a deep sleep.

***

(Y/n) awoke to the click of ceramic against wood and with great effort, forced her eyes open. She saw Shinobu sat beside her bed, attention focused on the book in her hands and grinned. Though her arm felt heavy, she scooted it over the edge of the bed and let her hand fall against Shinobu’s knee, startling her and subsequently making (Y/n) laugh.

“Whatcha reading, nerd?” (Y/n) asked, her throat a tad dry.

Shinobu scoffed and tossed her book onto the end of the bed before flopping down on top of (Y/n).

“Oof!” (Y/n) giggled a bit as Shinobu examined her. Her canines had shrunk, her nails blunt and free of unnatural color, and her eyes and hair were back to the shade and tone she had missed so dearly.

“What’s the verdict, Doctor?”

Shinobu kissed away her cheeky smile and cupping her jaw, she pulled away slightly, “You’re prefect.”

“I, I don’t know about that, but I like the praise.” (Y/n) stammered though she tried hard not to.

“I have something for you. It’s been waiting for you for a long time actually.” Shinobu sat up and reached for a small box on the table.

(Y/n) sat up with a grunt of effort as well to get a better look, “What is it?”

“Open it.” She said simply, holding the box out to (Y/n).

(Y/n) rose an eyebrow at Shinobu before focusing her attention on the box she opened it and a soft gasp left her lips. The necklace, untouched by time in almost three years, much like herself.

“I love you. This was for my official confession.” Shinobu smiled.

“Shinobu, I love you so much!” (Y/n) sniffled loudly.

“Then perhaps, if you find it agreeable, you would like to be my wife?” Shinobu asked. She was nervous, but she knew what she wanted. After all that had happened, she couldn’t imagine waiting any longer.

“Hell yeah I do! You mean it?” (Y/n) full on sobbed at that suggestion and held Shinobu tightly.

“Of course I do. Now,” Shinobu broke out of (Y/n)’s hold and stood up, “it’s a beautiful, sunshiny day. Want to sit in the garden with me?”

(Y/n) grinned, a burst of energy flooding her body as she realized that she was truly human again. “I’d love to!”

It seemed that Kanae’s wish for Shinobu would be fulfilled after all. The sun only seemed to shine brighter as the couple stepped out onto the engawa hand in hand with full and genuine matching smiles.

[acethedishwasher]

Just Kids | Carl Grimes x F!!Reader (Part 4)

Warning: mentions of death, gore, language, fluff, normal walking dead stuff

Description: y/n is Jesus's little sister (it's explained more in the story) the line up, Death

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Word Count: 1,637

The next day was going smoothly till Enid ran out of Maggie's house yelling about Maggie being in pain. I was the first to make it over and Rick was second. “We should get her to the hilltop.” I said, holding her up as she yelled in pain. Rick pulled around the RV and I helped get her loaded, refusing to then leave her side. Carl got on the RV late and once everyone was on we made our way to the hilltop. 

    Two of the roads to the hilltop had been blocked like warnings. Maggie was getting worse and we had one more try to get to the hilltop. “What if we walk?” I suggested. “They are expecting the RV. It could work.” Eugene said, agreeing with my plan. Eugene and Rick talked while we got Maggie ready so she wouldn have to walk. Everyone left the RV and Carl came to my side. Making it just me, him and a closed eyes maggie in the RV. He looked around briefly before kissing my forehead. “Now I know you're going to stomp on my foot, but I'd like it if you stayed with Eugene in the RV.” I wanted to stomp on his foot but I was thinking the same thing. “Ok, but you promise you will get Maggie to Dr. Carson.” I said, his eyes went wide. “You didn't kick me. '' he said. “When have I ever kicked you?” I asked him, he went to name them off when Rick called for him. “I'll see you tomorrow.” He said as the rest of the group took Maggie into the woods. 

      We drove to the next road that would lead to the hilltop and like we had suspected it was blocked. I climbed out of the RV and looked at everyone that was blocking the road. “Where's everyone else?” one of the men asked. “Still in the RV.” I lied quickly. Unfortunately a man had snuck behind me and pulled Eugene from the driver's seat. “Lie to us again.” the man said, I turned and saw Negan. “You got some giant sized lady balls to lie to a big group of men.” he said, holding eugene on the ground. I said nothing and glared at him. “Now, I don't want to hit you but I will. Where is your group?” Negan asked, I shrugged my shoulders and like he said he hit me, one time real hard in the face. “Oh, I hope I don't break that pretty little face of yours.”

      Again I ignored him and glared, spitting blood. “You're one scary lady, Maybe I can get answers from your friend here.” Negan said, looking at Eugene. “Woods.” Eugene said, quickly I glared at him. “Shut up Eugene!” I hissed. “No, keep talking.” Negan said, I glared daggers at both Eugene and Negan. “I'm sorry Y/n, They're going through the woods.” He explained, though Negan seemed uninterested by that. “Did you say Y/n, as in y/n rovia.” Negan asked, Eugene nodded. “How's your mother's head.” he asked and I lunged forward at him yelling. “You son of a bitch, you have no right to talk about my mother!” Negan smiled at me as some of his men loaded Eugene back in the RV. “Oh, hit a button.” he said with a sick smirk. “Load her up!” He yelled out making his men grab me arms and put me in the RV, Negan then climbed in and started driving us into the woods.

     After driving for a bit he sent his men out to ‘help guide’ Rick and them here. He radioed to more of his men and told them his coranits as a woman pulled me from the RV and moved me to my knees, a gun loosely pointed at the back of my head. Eugene was forced down next to me and a man put a gun to his head. “I truly am sorry y/n.” Eugene said, holding his head in his hands. “No talking.” the man said, pushing the gun harder into Eugene's head. 

  It took a long time but eventually I heard whistling grow louder and the group broke into the clearing. Instantly Carl's eyes landed on me as he looked over my face. Seeing the blood from my nose. One man came out of the shadows and instructed them to put Maggie down and get in line. Once they did that he had one person kick them onto their knees till everyone was down. “DWIGHT.” the man called. “Ya?” he said walking out from behind the group. “‘Chop-Chop.” Dwight opened the van doors and pulled out four people. Daryl, Rosita, Michonne and Glenn. “Maggie?” Glenn questioned as his look shifted from the ground to his pregnant wife. 

   “Alright, we got a full boat. Let's meet the man.” The man said, knocking on the RV door. Negan opened the door and took a step out. “We pissing our pants yet.” He asked with a sick smile. Carl grabbed my hand and squeezed it before dropping it. “ Boy do I have a feeling we're getting close.” Negan smiled as he walked closer to the group. “It's gonna be pee-pee pants city here real soon. Which one of you pricks is the leader.” one of Negan's men pointed to rick. “It's this one he's the guy.” He said, Negan turned and walked over to rick. “Hi, you're Rick, right? I'm Negan and I do not appreciate you killing my men. Also, when I sent my people to kill you for killing my people. you killed more of my people. Not cool, Not cool. You have no idea how not cool that is, but I think you're going to be up to speed here shortly. Yeah you are so going to regret crossing me in a few minutes. Yes you are.” Negan smiled, quickly I whipped the dripping blood from my face and whipped it on my pants. “You see Rick, whatever you do, no matter what. You don't mess with new world order, and the new world order is This and it's really very simple, so even if you're stupid. Which you very well may be, you can understand it. You read?” Negan asked.    

   “Here it goes, pay attention.” Negan said, dropping the bat from his shoulders and pointing it at rick. “Give me your shit or I will kill you. Today was career day. We invested a lot so you would know who I am and know what I could do. You work for me now. You have shit you give it to me, that's your job. Now I know there is a mighty big pill to swallow. But swallow it you most certainly will.” My mind drowned out his voice. Focusing on Carl and his shallow breaths. At one point I think Negan spoke to carl. He also tried to talk to me but I ignored him and glared.    

    My brain finally tooned in as he started playing Eenie meenie miney mo. whenever he pointed it at Maggie, Glenn, Carl, or Rick  I would flinch. It was hilltops meeting all over again. I watched as it landed on Abraham and where I didn't have a very good relationship with him, he didn't deserve to die this way. Nobody deserved to die this way. I watched as Negan brough his bat down on Abraham’s head Once then twice killing him. “Did you hear that, he said suck my nuts!” Negan laughed out. He was about to go into another monologue when Daryl got up and punched him. “That shit is not going to slide. I noticed him inch closer to Glenn and jumped up. “NOT HIM, ME!” I yelled, catching Negan's attention. Carl grabbed my hand and pulled me back down. As Negan made his way over to me I gave Carl's hand a comfort squeeze and smiled at him with tears in my eyes. “And who is it you think I was going to kill?” he asked. "Glenn." I responded, Negan's eyes widened slightly and he smiled. "Well I was, but since you requested to be killed instead I guess I could make the accommodations." Tears fall from Carl's eyes rapidly. Negan raised the bat and I watched as it came down on the top of my head. I felt the blood slowly trickle down my head and I looked at the ground. "I love you Carl." I mumbled hoping he would hear me before Negan raised the bat and hit me over the head again.    

     Carl cried as Negan repeatedly smashed her head. Once he finished he dropped down to Carl's level and gave fake sympathy. “Oh, I'm sorry, was she your girlfriend? You make sure to tell her brother she died just like her mother, I made sure of that.” Carl glared at him through tears as y/n's last words rang through his head. He could barely hear her speaking but he made it out. “I love you carl.” rang through his mind as Negan finished his torment and left the group sitting in tears. Carl stared at y/n's blood spot as Michonne crawled over and hugged him. “We're just kids, we're just kids.” He cried over and over again as he cried into Michonne’s chest.  

    Maggie and Glenn walked to the hilltop. When they walked through the doors Maggie collapsed and was rushed inside, but Glenn had to inform Jesus of his loss. “Paul.” Glenn said quietly. “We should go back to your trailer.” He said, leading Paul inside. “Your sister, she saved me.” Glenn explained, Jesus felt tears fall down his face as head dropped into his hands. “I'm sorry.” Glenn said tears threatening to fall from his own eyes as Carl's screaming and crying rang through his head. “WE’RE JUST KIDS.” 

[lowkeyerror]

Power Dynamics

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 1457

Warnings: Violence

An: It's been a minute hope you guys like this one

Masterlist

Pt2

The image in the mirror was enticing. The power that surrounded you, the woman beside you. It was everything you could ever want. No longer would you be the weakest link, you'd be strong.

" I submit to the Black Vortex"

" Y/N, NO!"

You felt power surge through every ounce of your body. It felt right, like it should've been yours at birth. Maybe the tears trailing down your face told a different story, but you were happy.

The wicked smile on your face told the truth. Maybe you looked like you were a mess, but you had never felt so complete.

" What have you done?"

You laughed boisterously," Doctor, don't sound so melodramatic."

" Y/n you do not know what that power is capable of."

You tilted your head," Oh, but I do, doctor. It's capable of anything, which means I am capable of anything."

" The Black Vortex isn't unlimited; it can be worn out or relinquished. Give up the power, Y/n."

You scoffed," Or what?"

He narrowed his eyes," I'll call Wanda."

A scowl implanted itself on your face," I've never felt so alive, Strange. I'm not giving this up"

" So be it"

He started creating a portal, but he was too slow. You had already transported yourself to the city. You took a second to marvel in your new powers.

The city felt different, weaker. Like, if you truly wanted to it could be your city. When you were powerless, thoughts like that never crossed your mind.

You were supposed to be a hero, an Avenger nonetheless. The track record of your fallen friends used to eat away at you but now it was a relief.

You met Wanda when you helped the Avengers on a mission before you were officially on the team. Your relationship with Wanda was complicated to say the least. It was just the most convoluted love triangle.

You and Vision vying for Wanda's attention, seeing who she would choose. When it was you, you were on cloud nine, but most of the time it was him.

Even in death, she had chosen him. You heard about what happened in that town. She brought him back and went mad trying to keep him.

She hadn't thought about you all this time. You were sure of it. She was living her dream life, and you were nowhere in it.

So would it even really matter if Strange called up Wanda. She wouldn't come because she didn't care.

No matter how much you loved her, she would never care.

That didn't matter now, not with the power of the black vortex running through your veins. You could have anything you wanted, like a stranger's cup of coffee.

"Hey, what's your de-"

You flashed your black shadowy eyes at him, causing him to scurry away from you. The possibilities were limitless.

You snatched a few other things from random strangers; no one dares to stop you. You want more, but you have no idea what that entails. There was never a time in your life where you didn't have a plan to get what you want.

However, it was hard to plan when you had no idea what you wanted.

So for the time being, you go home, and think about what it is that you really want.

When you appear in your home, you're already alert to the fact that you aren't alone. Someone else is here.

" It's been awhile, Y/n," you turn slowly at the sound of the familiar voice.

Wanda stands in your home. Your eyes drink in her new attire. It was just the thing to drive you a little crazy.

" I'm not giving the power back," you look her directly in the eyes.

She laughs at you," I'm not here to take it from you, baby."

You do your best to look unbothered by the pet name, though it sends your heart into a frenzy," Then why are you here?"

" I can't just visit a friend," just like that the frenzy is over. That one word, nothing but a lie.

You feel the dark clouds of smoke forming around you. With a quick blink, your eyes are black once more," What is it that you want from me? We aren't friends, Wanda. I'm your last resort, just the same as I was back then."

" You need to calm down."

" I am calm," you shoot back at her.

There's no hesitation as she moves towards you. Her hands grab yours, red eyes shining into your black ones," Relax."

You close your eyes and take deep breaths. It's not hard to center yourself with your anchor holding onto you. When you open your eyes, the smoke is cleared. With a quick glance to a mirror, you can see your eyes are back to normal.

" I'm here because I want to teach you," her hand crawls up your arm.

" Teach me what?"

Her eyes find yours," About the power you hold."

You turn away from her," That's not going to work."

" Why not?"

It's your turn to chuckle," Being near you physically pains me. I don't think you understand how much you hurt me. Like I said before, I'm always a last resort for you; an afterthought."

" I loved you"

You shook your head," Not as much as you loved him. Even when he was gone, you chose him over me."

She sighs," Y/n-"

" Forget it, it doesn't matter anymore. With this power I don't need you, I don't need anyone."

The anger crept up your bloodstream once more. You were owed something, anything. For years, you worked your ass off, for mankind, for the universe, for Wanda and you had never been repaid.

You were done waiting. It was time to collect payment.

" Y/n, I don't want to fight you."

" It's always about what you want, Wanda. What if I want to fight you?"

She takes a step back from you," I won't fight you."

There's only one phrase that runs through your head at that moment. A thought that Wanda heard clearly.

I will make you.

You shoot out a black cloud of magic towards the witch, she deflects it.

That doesn't deter you, in fact, you start flinging the powers at her with both hands. The unhinged nature of your attacks makes them hard to defend.

Wanda blocks and parries as many attacks as she can, but when she finally gets hit with the magic she yelps in surprise. The magic sizzles on her skin, leaving a nasty burn.

Her eyes glow red for a second. It makes you smirk, but as quick as they go red they're back to normal.

She controls her outburst, and it makes you even angrier.

" Stop censoring yourself and fucking fight me."

" I won't"

You use your magic to grab Wanda and lift her off of the floor. Your magic begins to crush her. The black shade to your eyes is indicative of the darkness running through your mind.

It's not until you realize that Wanda has no intention of breaking free that your consciousness awakens. You see the terror in her eyes, you see how she struggles in the grip of the magic, and most importantly you see that you're causing it.

You let her go and drop to your knees. A tremendous amount of exhaustion, taking over you. This was too much power, and you had no idea what to do with it.

" I relinquish-"

You don't finish your sentence before Wanda rushes to you, covering your mouth.

" You're not giving the power up."

You look into her eyes," I almost killed you."

" I knew you wouldn't."

Maybe you should take offense to that, but you just slump your shoulders.

Wanda's finger rests under your chin," Let me help you."

" Why?"

" Because I know how much you want this."

This was breaking you. The decision that seemed clear had somehow become blurry. You didn’t want Wanda’s help. She had let you down before on more than one occasion. However, there was only a very small possibility that you could do this without her.

“ Fine, but this is purely for the cause of developing this power. Nothing more.”

“ Deal, now let’s go,” she stands, extending her hand towards you.

“ Where?” You take her hand reluctantly, hating the way her soft palm caught your attention.

“ Somewhere you can practice, without accidentally harming anyone.”

You didn’t know where you were headed, and going there with your ex did not make things any better. However, controlling this power was your new top priority. You owed it to yourself to utilize these powers to the best of your abilities. For the time being, Wanda was the only way for that to happen.

[lupically]

#FFF8EA | XIAO. 

genre | fluff

word count | 2233

warning | mention of falling off a moutain​

note | i just have some ideas for xiao...

"the yaksha is fond of you."

madame ping was no stranger to you. the kind old lady roaming around yujing terrace, often seen admiring flowers or brewing a cup of hot tea, was someone you come across every afternoon after school when you head to the censor to make a wish to rex lapis.

the conversation you two have had always been brief, mainly because you were always in a hurry to get to work. she never minded your urgency, blissfully talking about how fast-paced and active young people these days are, and simply being happy that you even stopped to let her hand you some glazed lilies from time to time.

interestingly, though, she stopped giving you glazed lilies after a while and began handing you some pretty qingxin instead.

you never questioned it. it was just flowers. you could live without being gifted only one kind of them for the rest of your life. but after today's incident—after the burning down of your school located just outside the city, as well as what madame ping told you with hearty laughter laced in her voice, you were starting to think the switch to qingxin meant something.

"the yaksha is fond of you."

you tightened your hands around the weak strap of your school bag, made out of bamboo after lots of trials and errors, and you tilted your head with increasingly furrowing brows.

"pardon me, the what is fond of me?"

"the yaksha, my dear."

you stared at her. the corner of your lips was quirking up in confused twitches, and she could see that you were fiddling uncomfortably on your spot because you truly have no idea what she was talking about. it was not because of the history of the yaksha that might have made you feel jittery and out of place, you simply had no idea!

madame ping smiled even harder at your innocent oblivion then. how could you have such ample knowledge of rex lapis and the adepti, but nothing about the yaksha? especially the one with his mark, a jade green glow surrounding you like fireflies, all over your aura?

maybe that was why xiao chose you.

or, at least, it was one of the reasons why he liked you.

it was because you knew nothing of him. you never think about him, you never talk about him, and you would never suspect the string of random good luck and trails of safe travels that have been following you around.

while it must be tearing him down on the inside; the fact that he wasn't being able to approach the one person who made his good deeds a choice rather than an order. it must be plaguing his mind and patience every day.

but, even then, your surprising lack of information about his identity does save him the pressure of being chased down by you.

it saves him the problem of being even further attached to you. it was already pressing on his breaking point when he went out of his way to watch over you, leaving trails of his magic over your mortal soul to keep you safe when he was busy. any further interaction would be disastrous.

logically, he knew he would fall for you, so he was doing preventive measures. he has to keep his chest sealed so his heart wouldn't jump toward you involuntarily; he has to keep his chest sealed so you couldn't see all the mess inside.

"oh, sweet child," madame ping cooed as she walked toward you. she whispered to herself, "you're being protected by an adeptus and you don't even know."

she brought up a qingxin from her pocket, the petals slightly wrinkled from the confined space. she tucked it carefully in the pocket of your shirt before patting the bloomed flower, almost as if she was reminiscing.

"this is his flower," she said.

you hummed, looking down at it. "this is his favorite flower?"

"i'm not sure about his favorite flower, but this is his flower," she replied casually.

you pursed your lips together. well, at least now you knew the qingxin did have something to do with the... yaksha... or whatever.

"madame ping... may i ask–"

"you can find him at qingyun peak," she cut you off calmly. "during the lantern festival. he is always there during the festival. it was for the quiet, he said, that old man."

you shut your mouth, surprised that she knew what you wanted to ask. "uh... qingyun peak... is kind of... a big place..."

"you will find him if he wants to see you," she said. "you can speak his name–xiao. he might not show himself to you, but if you have something to say, he's likely there to listen."

qingyun peak. the lantern festival. the yaksha.

right.

that was how you found yourself bearing the freezing night cold with just a thin shirt and a ragged fabric wrapped and tied around your torso, your hands hurting from grabbing sharp edges and rough rocks, and your anxiety increasing with every jump that not only would the almond tofu in your bag fall, but you would as well.

as opposed to watching xinyan play for the lantern festival, being warm and cozy from the warm city lights and the tasty street food, and maybe even letting go of a lantern yourself after making a wish, you were here. you were alone, climbing mountains for a chance.

all for a random boy madame ping told you about! someone who was supposedly fond of you—if this xiao guy was so fond of you, he would have shown himself the first three times you called his name at the bottom of the mountain!

"fond of me–what a joke," you said through gritted teeth as you hoisted yourself up on a small ledge. "i'm going to kick his ass so hard when i find him."

you let yourself pant for a minute, regaining your stamina as you groggily accessed the higher peaks above you. your eyes squinted in dismay, but something inside you—the curiosity for the truth, as well as the longing for a friend, also the anger for playful revenge—urged you to keep going.

"he better eats the almond tofu i made," you muttered to yourself as you moved closer to the mountain. "i even picked some flowers... for him."

jump after jump, you were close to making it to the second ledge when suddenly, a slime jumped and appeared above you. it looked surprised, mirroring your expression, and as it prepared itself to attack you after seeing your hands move, it stopped when it saw you fumble about in the air before you began to fall further away from itself.

you had let yourself go. out of surprise, and an instinct to grab a weapon, your hands moved away from the edge and you fell.

your mind raced as the wind hit your face, your falling body heavy against the current that desperately tried to take you up from the ledge you just climbed up from. you would surely die from the impact if you drop. even without dropping down to the bottom, you would still suffer from a painful death.

was there something to do? how did this happen, you were doing fine! what should you do, what could you do? you were falling already—what was there to do now? anything, something?

"i–archons–" you heaved with the cold air, your lungs squeezing inside you with fear as tears began to drip out of your eyes.

anything? anybody?

xiao?

"you can speak his name. he might not show himself to you, but if you have something to say, he's likely there to listen."

"xi–" your voice broke for a millisecond when you could see the green grass approaching quickly. you squeezed your eyes shut, and your voice was louder than you have ever allowed it to be.

you called his name, loud and clear.

the first thing you felt was a lightning strike. you opened your eyes at the electric feeling to find a flash of green. it was bright, close and bright, in a way that was blinding. but then the tail broke into gentle fragments as a pair of arms circled your body to catch you from the fall.

one arm went around your waist, the other hand securely tightened itself around the back of your neck to keep it from breaking from the impact of his fast landing.

xiao growled under his breath when his feet struck the ground in a heavy blow. he pushed your head to his shoulder, shielding your face away from the soil that bounced upward as a result.

quietness ensued after a moment of calm. you took the moment to access the situation—you were fine. someone, likely xiao, saved you from the fall. you were fine.

he dropped onto the ground, sitting on the cold grass with your body pressed close to his, when he heard that you began to sob from the accident.

despite feeling awkward and unsure, he kept quiet and let you vent out the post-accident fear so you could slowly bring in the relief that you were still alive. but his quietness was unwelcomed when you suddenly curled your fist and hit him across the shoulder.

"screw you! why didn't you just answer me when i–when i was at the bottom of the moun–mountain! screw you!"

you blamed him and you hit his shoulder repeatedly. your weak fist was nothing compared to the pain he has endured in the past, but your cries cut through him like glass in the most seamless pattern when he realized he was part of the reason why you had to go through that traumatic experience.

if he had just jumped down from the peak when he heard you the first time, this would not have happened.

xiao looked at the empty spot before him. his golden eyes glowed with a softness that has long fallen into the abyss, forever gone and forever abandoned. but he brought it back out now because he cares about you, and he is, ultimately, attached to you, and he loves you.

"you're right," he said, holding you close to him. "i'm sorry."

ever since you discreetly left the almond tofu on the roof of the wangshu inn, your shy figure hunched over in an apologizing manner because you were told that you were giving food to an important, albeit weird, guest, and your blissfully ignorant words of encouragement as you told him to go out and explore the world, to give it a chance so he could find people he would like.

ever since then, he has loved you, in fragile and discreet ways, in unwavering and patient ways, in protective and caring ways.

"i love you, i'm sorry."

you stopped sobbing almost immediately, and he was afraid he might have said the wrong thing.

wasn't it what he was supposed to do? verr told him to speak his mind once. just be truthful with his feelings and nothing could go wrong. was he not supposed to show his affection blatantly, as he would his complaints and opinions?

"that... that is going a little too fast for me, xiao," you joked. "let's settle with appreciating each other for now."

he heard you laugh, causing the weight of his heart to drop, like finding lights in a fog, like seeing the lanterns in the night sky and realizing that there are more people alive with you than you think.

"thank you, for saving me," you said kindly then, your fist long stopped hitting him and was now patting his shoulder.

"always."

“but burning my school down is not the best approach for... whatever it was you were trying to help me with.”

xiao blinked in confusion, then realization hit him. he almost forgot about that! he was, shockingly, dwelling in the prideful fact that because he literally destroyed the building, you would be free of school for the day, and therefore not having to face all the hardships inside the walls he could not venture past. he thought it was the best thing to do, second to beating up everyone, which he politely opposed to.

“i am not sorry about that,” he muttered. “it was what i thought was best.”

he could feel you grin in his embrace. your laughter reverberated in the air, making his magic glow around you both. it was like nothing he has felt before. he wanted to stay like this—in this position where you were engulfed by him, where he could surround you with himself instead of the fireflies of green he has left behind, where he was with you in a way it was entire, in a way he could feel your beating heart against his own.

you are pressing onto his breaking point.

you are going to open him up, see him whole, and renovate his insides to your will. you are going to take his heart from his chest, breaking through his ribcage made feeble from his sheer affection for you, and claim it as your own. you are going to make him love, like sharp knives, like soft breaths, like tragic past, like warm blood, you are going to make him love.

you are pressing onto his breaking point.

and xiao lets you.

because you will be worth the tragedy, you will be worth everything.

[oh-holy-slut]

Bloodlust

Pairing: Damon Salvatore x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, explicit language, blood sharing, mentions of death, oral sex

Word Count: 2,6k

Summary: Stefan forced Damon to try his animal diet. Damon hated it, but didn't had a choice... until Reader makes a suggestion. Suddenly things get steamy.

Being with Damon was complicated. Him and Y/N have seen each other a lot in the past weeks. The two of them had a lot of fun; saw a lot of movies. Actually, Y/N was sure Damon secretly hated many of those. However, anytime Y/N suggested another dramatic, romantic cliché movie like "Last Song" - the vampire groaned, put his arm around her shoulder, let her head rest on his chest and endured every single second of the movie of her choice.

Damon even flirted and teased Y/N here and there, but didn't lead to anything more intimate so far.

Today was another of those days. Y/N stuck around at the Salvatore boarding house, brought a few of Damon's favorite groceries and a bunch of movies, of which she thought that they will suit his taste. Even if they were a little to bloody and brutal in her opinion.

"Pick one!", she demanded, holding all three Blu-ray sleeves in front of him. Damon just shrugged, not bothering to even look.

"Don't be a killjoy, Damon Salvatore!" Y/N sighed.

"Tell me what's wrong or pick a movie. You've got no choice. And besides that... Which number of drink is this?" Y/N frowned, pointing at the liquor in her friends hand. Damon usually consumed his beloved bourbon with pleasure.

But the man on the couch didn't seem pleasured at all. His facial features totally hardened and a look in his eyes like he was ready to rip someone's heart out.

You put the disc's back in your handbag, closing the zipper and put the bag on the floor.

"Fine. No movie night today. Who are we going to kill?"

A small smirk appeared on Damon's lips, finally looking towards Y/N.

"Stefan and his hero hair. He made me go vegetarian... well, for a vampire... and I can't get myself to eat one of those chipmunks, bunnies or bambis." He shook himself with disgust.

"And why did he count you in? You clearly aren't excited about the changing... So, why did you agree?"

"He said, he would kill me, which is kinda funny. But-" Damon made a wide gesture "he stole my daylight ring. And he wouldn't give it back until I stop feeding on innocent people - and kill them."

"So, you truly let your younger brother blackmail you like that?! Wow... I don't know how to feel about your dieting or your new path. Or whatever this is supposed to be."

"You don't like me killing people either", Damon maintained, while taking another sip of bourbon.

"Well, I don't", Y/N agreed, took a step forward, stole the glass from the vampires hand and put it on a small table nearby. "But I don't believe in forcing as a method to get people to change their minds. I believe that change for the better must be an intrinsic motivation," she added quickly, giving the vampire an innocent smile.

Damon's lineaments suddenly turned from annoyed to curious. "Any suggestions, little one?" The vampire raised an eyebrow and a little smirk showed up on his lips. On the one hand, Y/N blushed over the nickname, Damon called her.  On the other hand she felt skittish looking forward to making a deal with him. Not only a deal. It's far more than a simple agreement.

It's Y/N, actually giving Damon a part of her. The red elixir of life. She was about to give him total control of her body and she not even for a heartbeat doubt that Damon will use it against her.

"Actually... Yeah. There's something on my mind." Y/N said chewing on your lip. "I could open up a vein for you. I mean, you could feed on me. And since you have my permission, there's nothing for anybody to have objection about."

Damon frowned and gave her an incredulous look. "You would do that for me?" The vampire couldn't believe, he understood correctly. Why would Y/N want to get involved with him feeding on her? What's in it for her? Damon tried hard to connect the dots, but he wasn't able to. It all seemed to make no sense. Y/N wouldn't have an advantage of that. The vampire hesitated, pinning his dangerously blue eyes on the girl in front of him.

"Is it so suspicious of me, that I'm trying to help my closest friend?" It pierced Y/N's heart, realizing, Damon's trust in her was rather fragile. "Never mind", she waved the pain away and forced herself to keep her composure. "I only had a hasty idea; you really don't need to fee-"

Suddenly Damon appeared behind Y/N, using his vampirism. "Shhhh", he whispered softly. "I never said, that I don't want your blood. I'm thinking about if we are going to cross a line? Blood sharing can be very personal..."

"It can be? It is personal already. Believe it or not - I'm not gonna offer my veins to all the vampires of Mystic Falls." Y/N rolled her eyes, her arms folded on her chest to point out the indignation she felt right now.

"Kinda sensitive today, huh?" Damon gently stroke a strand of hair behind her ear, Y/N could hear this smug smirk through his words. It was a true 'Damon thing' to do. "I didn't mean it like that, princess." He sighed; unsure if he should agree or not. Damon didn't want to act selfish towards Y/N. He compelled a lot of girls for the purpose of drinking blood in the past. He literally used them as long as they weren't too annoying - and then he acted like they have never met. Damon Salvatore couldn't imagine this scenario with Y/N. They've been so close, the vampire couldn't stand loosing her. The offer was risky, but it also could bring each other even closer.

Damon tried hard to avoid any serious attraction between Y/N and him, afraid of messing up. Indeed, he found himself thinking, and even dreaming, about Y/N more than he wanted to admit. She was smart and had this special sense of humor, the vampire adored so much. She was the only one, who could make him feel good no matter what. Needless to say she had that glimmer in her eyes, when she did something she truly loved. In these moments she was even more pretty. Y/N was hard to resist.

And maybe now he could have her like nobody else. At least the vampire gave in. He wanted her blood. He wanted her.

Y/N flinched by the feeling of Damon brushing her neck with his lips.  "Oh, Damon", she gasped. "Bite me." Y/N almost begged for the vampire's teeth breaking through her skin. Damon loved the sound of her husky voice. In less than a heartbeat he turned into his vampire shape. "If you insist", he grinned devilishly, ready to place his teeth on to her skin.

Suddenly Y/N made a slight move forward with the intention to interrupt her friend. "Did you change your mind?" Damon was close to switching back to human, overwhelmed by a mix of emotions. Mostly a lack of understanding, but also a little of disappointment and even anger. Was Y/N playing games on him? While Damon Salvatore was sorting feelings, Y/N turned around, standing now in front of him.

She was so close, not even a piece of paper would fit between them.

Y/N slightly exhaled breath, her eyes darting between the vampires eyes and lips. It was the first time Y/N saw him like this. The icy blue of his eyes, she loved so much, has turned darker. Purple veins appeared under his eyes; Y/N couldn't help herself. Damon's appearance fully intoxicated every fibre of her being. Her fingertips found their way gently brushing over his dark purple veins. She felt heat and softness, while tracing one of them.  It took her a few seconds to get out of trance, realizing what she had done. "Sorry", she murmured with a voice barely audible. "Don't apologize, little one." Damon tilted his head, his lips curled up in a self-assured grin, exposing a perfectly white vampire fang. "I never saw you like this before, you loo-"

"... look like a monster?"

Y/N shook her head. It was nothing like that. Yes, he did look unfamiliar. And she should be scared under normal conditions. Instead, his look hit her in an unexpected way. He looked hotter as a vampire, if it was even possible. 

Y/N cleared her throat, looking up at Damon. "I feel... attracted to you."

"So nothing's changed", Damon teased, raising his eyebrows. The girl in front of him softly slapped him on his shoulder; which was only possible because the vampire permitted. "You are always so full of yourself." She smirked, feeling more confident being to something, they have had been so many times before. Granted, he was terrifying accurate, but she wouldn't serve her feelings on a silver platter.

"I'm still into it. You can bite me; feed on me. I only needed to see you before..." 

A shockwave of electricity flowed through her body the second Damon took her hand and pulled her close.

"I'll be careful", he promised, nuzzling his head into the nap of her neck. Damon once again placed his lips on her soft skin. 

Suddenly a harsh pain made Y/N feel like in a kind of haze. She flinched and let out a groan at the same time, unintentionally biting her lower lip. 

During Damon embedded his fang deeper and deeper, she started feeling dizzy. Her hands searched for the vampires upper body, finally wrapped around his neck. She needed him to lean on. A narrow trickle of blood flowed down her neck. Let Damon feed on her felt like flames licking up every fiber of her body. 

With every passing second Y/N could feel her control slip away. Her body was now firmly pressed against Damon's, like she would want to merge them into one.

Damon noticed her staggering, wrapped his arms around her waist, supporting her.

Bloodlust already messed up the vampires mind, so he continued feeding on Y/N.

A tempting moan escaped her lips, but she didn't care to cover up. Y/N's heart was racing, her eyes flattering. It was almost as if he was about to push her over the edge, but in a different way. "Mmm, this...this… feels soo weird... and so good...", she whispered under a shallow breath.

As soon as Damon heard her fading voice, he abruptly

quitted drinking from her.

"Fuck!" He rapidly laid her on his lap and checked Y/N's vital signs, to make sure she was okay. Instinctively he bit his wrist, pressed it against Y/N's mouth. He knew his blood would heal her, but it wasn't going fast enough. A few seconds passed through, to him they felt like centuries. Y/N finally blinked and Damon was relieved. He cupped her cheeks, his gaze never leaving hers. "I thought, I'd gone-" Damon cleaned his throat. "I'm so glad, you are doing well", he whispered, while trailing her lips with his fingertips. "So, fuckin' glad..." The vampire exhaled a deep breath. 

"It... You made me feel good. Strange, but good", Y/N appeased and flushed over the memory. "Maybe you got a little carried away, but I don't mind. I wouldn't trade the feeling for anything."

Y/N quickly interrupted herself, before she could reveal too much.

However, Damon used his vampire skills, noticing that Y/N was hiding something from him. "Isn't there anything else you want me to know?", Damon asked without taking his eyes off her. Y/N shifted and flushed even more. "It's unfair. You use your vampirism to get everything out of me."

"Well, if that were the case, I could easily compel you." Damon shrugged and found back to his smugly self. "Tell me, what you are hiding". He said in a seductive voice.

"I wanted to get lost in you."

Her confession sent shivers all over the vampires body. At first he could not decide, how to handle this. "Are you sure that's what you want? I could really hurt you..." Y/N hummed.

In the next split second, Damon pinned Y/N against a wall, smashing his lips on hers, kissing her with all the passion he had to give. The vampire devoured Y/N with a new kind of hunger. He didn't know he could crave someone so much.

"Fuck me, Damon..."

The vampire felt him getting hard, only by hearing those little three words out of her mouth.

"Say it louder. Tell me, what you want me to do."

Y/N pulled him closer, gently biting his earlobe.

"Fuck... me, Damon." It took her a second to focus and forming the words again. After she was near to climax earlier, it wasn't a long way getting to the edge once more. "Make me cum... You almost had me there..."

A deep moan got over the vampires lips, once he understood, what Y/N was trying to tell him.

With the next blink Y/N found herself in Damon's bedroom, lying on his bed.

From now on there weren't many words needed. Damon's hand's found their way under her shirt, cupping her breasts and make her moan over and over again.

He closely listened to the rhythm of her heart, making sure he would be able to delay her climax to the point he needed her to.

"Don't cum yet... I want to taste your little pussy first."

Y/N grabbed the vampires head, running her fingers through his dark hair - pushing him down, since she was unable to form a single word.

As Damon got down, he didn't take his eyes off Y/N.

He used a hand pushing up her skirt and lightly stroking over her panties with his fingertips.

"My girl is so wet", he praised in a low husky voice."-and I barely touched you."

His dirty words in combination with his touch lead to another moan, almost turned into a scream.

Damon pushed the fabric aside, leaving sloppy kisses on the inside of her thighs.

Y/N's eyes fluttered, when his soft lips reached her middle.

Damon's tongue licking around her entrance was driving her nuts.

"...so delicious..." were the only words she was able to catch up. Damon knew, he couldn't thrill her forever, so he got back to her. He spit on his palms, stroking his hand over his crotch. In under a second Y/N finally felt this releasing pressure of his cock. It was like a switch went off in her brain and she braced herself for the hard thrusts that would follow.

Damon dimmed the whining noises Y/N made with a passionate, hungry kiss.

He cheated with his vampirism to give it to her deeper and faster, knocking out all the air of her lungs while Y/N screamed out Damon's name. Her walls clenched around him and made him twitch. It was like her pussy massaged his dick the best way possible.

Every time he hit her harder and rougher he was making sure he hit her spot with every thrust.

Damon gathered speed one last time and pushed her over the edge until she was a moaning whimpering mess.

With her last contraction around his shaft, Damon was cumming inside her.

"You are so tight, little one", he whispered under his breath. "We should make arrangements more often."

Please like or/and reblog if you enjoyed reading or/and want me to write more stories about Damon.

Thanks guys ❤️

[theunquenchablethirst]

Hooked (Jerome X Reader)

Ok, so this is a thing. I was kinda surprised nobody had used this scene yet, because the Gotham fandom seem to collectively agree that Jerome is BIG KINKY and yet the one scene where he canonically has people cuffed up and hung from the ceiling... nobody has touched??? Y'all have been sleeping on that scene! It's fanfic gold! Anyway, enjoy the hedonism. Much love xxx

Warning: SMUT, 18+, GRAPHIC SEXUAL CONTENT, BDSM, bondage, cuffs, dom/sub, vaginal fingering, oral sex, biting, spanking, slapping, pussy slapping, light choking, spitting, belt whipping, praise/degradation, marking, mention of scratching, Jerome is big meanie pants mean man

The new mayor of Gotham is having a meeting with his council members, but things take a turn when the Legion of Horribles show up to kidnap them and reader. When the victims are being unloaded from the truck, Jerome Valeska notices reader, because she isn't exactly on the guest list.

Tag list of lovelies: @gabile18 @valeskaduh @fangirl--writes @persephoneblck

Masterlist

I had been working as a housekeeper for the new mayor. It was a good job, but I wasn't appreciated. I was just there to clean and serve when needed. I don't think he even knew my name. I was just hired help to him. To all of them.

He was hosting a dinner for his council that day. I had been placed in the corner of the room with a bottle of expensive wine where I was to wait until wanted. He gestured for me to come forwards and fill their glasses while they started talking about their displeasure with the rising foul play in the city, like it was anything new for Gotham. The chairwoman wanted to know what he was going to do about it. Very little in my opinion. He was just coasting. In too deep over his head. He had been appointed far too fast and everyone knew it. He wasn't going to last.

He made an attempt to save face and talk about how he too was disturbed by the recent goings on and was doing everything he could. Trash, utter trash. As he rose from his seat, the lights fizzled out. I stopped pouring. Had this been any other city I would have assumed it was a simple power outage, but nothing was that simple in Gotham. The security guard closed us in and went to see what was happening. The air turned icy. No, this was not good. Gunshots and screams came from the hallway and everyone rose from the table terrified. We quickly started walking towards a door hoping to make an escape, but there was something about the windows. They were freezing over.

The doors burst open and I dropped the wine. It smashed into pieces as a blueish man in some kind of robotic suit and a weird looking, but huge gun stepped into the room. Was that Victor Fries? Then through the second set of doors another man in a top hat who I recognised as Jervis Tetch burst in with some other strange looking friends.

Before I could comprehend the situation, we were all being cuffed and taken outside. Our kidnappers pushed and pulled us towards a huge truck, all the while the mayor tried to buy his way free. He was showing just how little he really knew about the underbelly of Gotham. I knew just by looking at them that they were probably Arkham escapees and couldn't be bought like a sane man could. They had their own plans and you can't bargain with crazies.

We got to the truck and they opened the back door. My blood ran cold when I saw that standing there waiting for us was Jerome Valeska. Of all the criminals Gotham had seen he had been the only one that had scared me, truly and thoroughly. He didn't have any kind of reason for what he did. He just enjoyed death and chaos. And after his last escapade he looked like madness personified, his scars circling his face and eyes and giving him a permanent evil smile. Dread consumed me as I realized that he was no doubt the leader of this operation and if that was true, we were already dead.

I felt myself jolted forwards. The mayor had pushed me in front of the rest of the council to get whatever was coming first. If I wasn't cuffed, I would have turned around and broke his nose. I was lifted into the truck, my hands were pulled above my head and fixed to two hooks. I had to stand on my toes to keep standing which made it awkward and difficult as they pushed me to the back of the truck.

Was that Penguin? What was he doing here? He didn't belong here. I had gone to Penguin looking for a job in his club when I was 16. He was impressed with my audition, but when he asked my age, he rejected me.

"This establishment is not a playground for children. It's a nightclub." He had told me. At the time I had been steaming mad, but in hindsight he was probably right. Even if he was rude. So, after that, I found it hard to understand why he was here and working with Valeska. Maybe he had been kidnapped too?

The rest of the council were loaded on and hooked. The mayor was still trying to offer them money and pardons. When he saw it wasn't working, he resorted to empty, unintimidating threats. Jerome was completely unfazed and even a little disappointed in the lack of smiles.

"Nobody knows how to have fun anymore, right?" He said putting his arm around Penguin. So, he was a part of this.

Jerome pointed to a scary looking figure dressed like a scarecrow. Johnathan Crane? Crane released some kind of purple gas in the face of a member of a council. She started laughing and convulsing violently.

"What have you got to lose? Except your sanity?" Jerome joined in the crazy laughter. So, this was his plan. He'd figured out a way to forcefully drive everyone insane. With a gas.

I silently prayed to God in my mind for any kind of help.

After sufficiently terrifying us half to death, they left us in the back of truck. None of us could say anything and after a few minutes the truck started moving.

"Is she ok?" I asked looking towards the victim of the insanity gas.

"Who cares?! We have to figure out what they want and get out of here." Replied the mayor.

"Maybe they want publicity for whatever that gas is. Offer them some TV time." Guessed the chairwoman.

"Don't you get it?! This isn't a situation you can buy your way out of!" I snapped, frustrated with their idiocy.

"These aren't normal criminals. They don't want your money. They want chaos and madness." They stood there silently stunned. They had never heard me speak with such confidence, but in that moment, they knew I was right.

After what felt like hours the truck finally stopped.

"What's going on?" The mayor whispered.

Everything was quiet. We listened for any noise or sign of life. All we could hear was our own breath.

Then suddenly the doors flung open once again and in hopped Valeska, Tetch and Crane.

"We're here!" Jerome grinned.

The other two started to pull the council one by one off the hooks and walk them out of the truck, closely watched by Jerome. Until they got to me.

"Wait..." He stuck an arm out to stop Tetch from unhooking me.

"Who's she? She wasn't on the party list." He took a few steps closer to me.

"This poor young girl is an unlucky maid. Wrong place, wrong time. Very bad day." Jervis explained looking at me.

"Would you like me to... dispose of her?" Asked Crane, stalking close to me and lifting needle covered fingers to my throat.

"Not so fast, Mr Potato Head." Jerome said pulling him away from me.

He came so close that we were only inches apart. He looked down at me as if he was thinking for a few seconds then smirked and turned around to the others.

"Guys, go and see that our guests are comfortable, will ya? Get everything ready." He ushered them out of the truck. Fear travelled up and down my body. This had all been a bad situation, but being alone with Valeska scared the hell out of me.

"You're lucky I have a soft spot for pretty little girls." He closed the truck doors and turned to look at me.

"Freddy Krueger there... not so much." He relaxed, leaning back against the doors with his hands in his pockets. "You got a name?"

I stayed silent, more out of fear than defiance. He sucked his teeth and stood up straight.

"I get it. You're scared. Who wouldn't be, right?" He started slowly walking closer. "But things will go a lot smoother if you just play nice."

I still couldn't find any words.

"Aw, come on, doll! I'm getting awful lonely over here." He brought his hands up out of his pockets and leaned against a wall of the truck.

He was quiet for a few seconds and I noticed that his eyes were making their way up my legs. Being held up by my wrists on my tip toes had pulled my uniform skirt up and almost all of my thighs were exposed. I blurted out my name in an attempt to distract him from my bare legs. He smiled.

"What a pretty name. Now, was that so hard?" He pushed himself off the wall and came a little closer.

"So, you're the mayor's dust bunny, huh? I gotta say, doll, I can see why he keeps you around." He chuckled, eyeing me.

My whole body flushed and my face turned hot and red.

“But, uh, the thing about mayors in this town, they don’t last very long.”

"Please let me go." I whimpered.

"Oh, but we're having such a good time! Plus, if I did that, you'd scamper off to the GCPD and I can't have good ol' Gordon crashing the party early."

I scoffed at his suggestion. Not likely. I had a distinct distaste for the GCPD. They hadn't helped me when I needed them. I would never need them again.

"What's the matter? He book ya before or something?" Jerome smiled with intrigue.

"My parents... they... did things to us. When I ended up in the hospital one too many times..." Tears stung my eyes as I remembered. "They left me there and disappeared with my little brother. No one ever managed to track them down."

I didn’t fully understand why I was opening up to Jerome, but for a second, I saw a spark of humanity in his eyes. Like he understood my pain. I'd heard his first kill had been his mother, so maybe he did?

"I'd give anything to see him again." I sniffed and a tear rolled down my cheek.

"Yeah, I had shitty parents too." He sighed. "I killed them both."

I had thought about what I would do if I ever saw my parents again. What I would say, what I would ask. I could never think of the right words. But the thought of killing them, well that made me smile.

"What was it like?" I asked.

Jerome grinned from ear to ear and stepped closer so that we were toe to toe.

“Have you ever stood at the edge of a really tall building? You know that little voice in the back of your head that says ‘Jump! You can fly!’ even though every other part of you is screaming ‘No you can’t! You’re gonna kill us!’”

I nodded shakily.

“It’s like finally giving in to that voice. Like jumping off Gotham Bridge and finding out you can fly. And realising you never have to walk again.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and my heart felt like it was going a million beats per minute. His eyes were locked on mine and it felt like he was looking straight into my soul.

“You wanna fly, doll?” He brought his hand up to cup my jaw and ran his thumb along my bottom lip.

It wasn’t humanity I saw in Jerome Valeskas eyes. It was freedom. A freedom that I had wanted for as long as I could remember. And I could have it right now. He was offering it to me. The only thing standing in my way was myself.

“Yes.” I breathed. “Yes, I do.”

The next thing I knew, his lips were crashing into mine and he had hooked his hands under my thighs and was holding them around his waist. His kiss was desperate and hungry, like he had been starved for days and his grip on the bare flesh of my thighs was rough enough to leave bruises. I locked my ankles together behind him to steady myself from swaying underneath the cuffs. When I did, he drove his crotch forwards, grinding into my centre, a quiet moan escaping me as I felt him.

He slowly trailed a hand from my thigh, up my back and to the nape of my neck, before balling my hair in his fist. I gasped as I felt the sudden, sharp tug of him pulling my head back.

His eyes wandered down to settle on my exposed throat, before yanking my head to the side and nestling in the crook of my neck. He must’ve left a hundred open mouth kisses, but as he started to suck, I felt his teeth sink into my skin. I pulled back with a hiss at the sting, but he wouldn’t let go. He just kept on leaving harsh, red bitemarks and pulling my hair, all the time grinding harder into me.

He licked over the bruises he’d left and gently kissed them, before trailing his tongue up my neck to nip at my ear. He smiled darkly and pulled back away from me, dropping my legs back to the floor. He stalked around me, eyeing me up and down like a predator. I felt him behind me, his hands softly holding onto my waist, pulling me close to his chest.

“You know what’s great about this?” He cooed. “You’re already pre-cuffed.”

I flushed and my core swelled hot, his breath so close to me made my skin tingle all over. He pulled at the top of my skirt and dragged it down my hips, letting it fall down around my feet. He caressed my thighs and then stepped back, tugging at my underwear, playfully letting the elastic snap back to me.

“Y’know...” He said, before the familiar sound of a belt unbuckling. “Marquis de Sade said ‘sex without pain is like food without taste’...”

My eyes widened at his words and my heartbeat quickened.

“So, let’s make this... delicious.”

A million thoughts raced through my mind, but before I could process any, I felt the sharp snap of leather against my ass. I jolted forwards and let out a high pitch yelp.

Even though I couldn’t see him, I could tell he was smirking. I could hear it in his voice. I bit my lip in an attempt to brace myself and he landed the belt across me again.

“Please, Jerome...” I whimpered at the sting, closing my eyes.

He brought it down again, making me arch my back in a gasp. A couple of tears rolled down my cheeks and I realised there was little point in resisting the torment. So, I gritted my teeth and prepared for another lick of the belt.

He whipped me once more, harder this time and a small scream escaped me.

“Please!” I begged.

I heard him chuckle with dark delight. The bastard was enjoying this. Of course he was. What else had I expected from someone like him? I tightened all my muscles for the next sting...

But it didn’t come. Instead, I felt him pulling my underwear down. Relief washed over me when I heard the belt drop to the floor and I realised Jerome was finished and was now crouched, ready to inspect his work. He ran his fingers over my burning flesh, taking in the bright red lashes he had left on me.

“What a pretty picture?” He said, landing a spank. “I wish you could see too doll, but having you cuffed is half the fun.”

His voice was dripping with venom and arousal and I could practically feel his grin in the air. He traced the marks with his fingers a little longer, before grabbing my flesh in fistfuls and sinking his teeth in. I gasped loudly at the hard bite. I wasn’t sure how many more of Jerome's surprises I could take. He laughed and ran his tongue over the new bruise.

“Yep. Definitely a pretty picture.” He smiled, giving me another spank. “I like those little noises you make, doll. Why don’t you make some more for me?”

He snaked his hand up my inner thigh and began stroking along my slit, relighting the fire in my stomach. I moaned, biting hard on my lip and tried to bring my thighs together, wanting friction.

“Naughty.” He said, landing a swift slap on my entrance causing me to let out a little yelp. “I need you to keep those legs open for me.”

It wasn’t as bad as the belt. In fact, it felt quite good. The heat inside me swelled as Jerome returned to running his fingers back and forth in my slickness. I hummed softly in my throat, fighting the urge to close my thighs again, my knees starting to shudder underneath me.

“Look how wet you are and I’m barely touching you.” Jerome chuckled darkly. “I wonder what happens if I do this?”

Jerome plunged two fingers deep inside me and slowly started pumping them. I let the warmth roll through me, moaning blissfully. He gently started to pick up speed, making it nearly impossible for me to keep my thighs apart. The faster he got, the deeper he dove, making me tighten around his talented fingers and struggle to keep steady on my toes.

My legs were shaking and despite my best efforts I just had to squeeze them together. As soon as I did, Jerome removed his fingers from me, leaving me feeling empty and spanked me hard.

“What did I say about that?” He barked, laying down another spank.

His spanking felt different this time. It felt pleasurable and sent a thrill up my spine.

“Sorry.” I whimpered.

“Sorry for what?” He spanked me again. “For being a needy little whore? Hm?” Another spank.

“Yes!” I gasped. “I’m a needy little whore! I just...”

“What? You just what?”

Jerome landed another slap at my core. It made my muscles clench, but it also aroused me so much more in a way I’d never thought I’d experience.

“What? What do you want, whore?”

“Please...”

“Big words, princess. What...” Spank. “Do you...” Another spank. “Want?”

“I want... I want you...” I forced, breathlessly.

“You want me? What do you want me to do, princess?” Jerome teased, tracing a finger along my burning entrance, just barely touching me.

“Please... Make me feel good, Jerome... Make me cum.”

“Are you gonna be a good girl?”

“Yes...”

“Are you gonna do as I say?”

“Yes, I will.”

“Exactly as I say?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Just please...Jerome.”

I couldn’t take it any longer. I felt so pathetic and needy. I needed him to touch me.

“So desperate.” He giggled sadistically. I supposed he loved seeing me beg.

Then, finally, he spread me open and dove his tongue deep into my wanting warmth. I closed my eyes and bit down hard on my lip as he swirled his tongue around inside me. I wanted to grab his hair and feel it in my fingers, but all I could do was squeeze my fists together in empty frustration.

Jerome grabbed a hand full of my ass, gripping it tightly, digging his nails in and rose his other hand to my pelvis front, pulling me down further onto his tongue. I squealed, a delightful mixture of pleasure and also pain from the tugging on my aching forearms. He ran his front hand down to play with my swollen clit, circling his fingers around beautifully.

He grinded his face deeply into me, sliding his tongue up, down, around and around inside me. He pressed his fingers down harder on my clit, forcing a loud moan out of me. I felt the pressure inside me build, coiling and tightening like a burning spring. I squeezed my thighs around his head in a desperate attempt to pull him deeper, his tongue nestling inside finding all of my sweet spots and lighting them on fire.

I could feel myself ready, ready to burst. He was pulling an amazing orgasm out of me and I wanted nothing more than to just let it go. All it took was one more upward jolt of his head, pushing his tongue that last little bit deep enough to push me over. I screamed out in erotic pleasure, letting the feeling flood me like warm water. My back arched and my legs convulsed until I withered, letting myself dangle from my cuffs in a breathless defeat.

Jerome slid his tongue out of me and pulled his face back away.

“You sing so pretty, dollface. Like a little birdie.” He said, squeezing the flesh off my ass.

He gave me one more light bite and a spank, before he rose back up to stand, snaking his hands along my sides all the way. He let his hands wander up to cup my breasts, massaging them softly. He leaned in close and began leaving wet kisses in the crook of my neck. I shuddered, his touch sending a cool tingle down my spine. He let his hands squeeze my breasts slightly harder, then pulled away and crept back around in front of me.

He stood facing me, his eyes locked on mine. They seemed to burn holes right into my flesh, creating a sense of fear in me. I was scared of Jerome Valeska, I truly was. But everything he was doing to me right now... The way he touched me, kissed me. I wondered how he managed it. How he was able to both terrify and arouse me in equal amounts.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t register his hand rising until it was firmly wrapped around my throat. He leaned down to kiss me, dominating my mouth with his tongue, making me taste myself. Once again, I felt the familiar warmth build in my core as I sensed we were not quite done here. He finished the kiss with a little nip to my bottom lip.

“Are you scared of me, doll?” He purred.

I swallowed hard, unsure if truth was wise here. Then I felt him increase the pressure around my throat, not wanting to wait for an answer.

“Yes.” I breathed.

“Good.” He said through an evil smirk.

He crashed his lips to mine once again, his free hand picking up my thigh to wrap around him. I locked both my legs around his waist, wanting to feel him close against me. I felt his erection hard, under his clothes, grinding into me and I wanted it. Badly. He pulled away from the kiss, leaving his taste on my tongue and raised his hand from my throat to grab hold of my face. He took his other hand away from my thigh and pulled at his tie. I didn’t drop my legs this time, instead I gripped tighter as he slid his tie from around his neck and scrunched it in his fist.

“Open your mouth.” He ordered.

I did as he said and he smiled, before spitting into my open lips and gagging me with his tie. I’d never had anyone do that before and it shocked me a little, but then again, I’d never had anyone like Jerome Valeska before.

He backed up slightly, just enough for him to reach down and unzip his trousers and pull down his underwear, freeing his erection. I couldn’t help but look down at it. It was bigger than any I’d taken before and I wasn’t sure how prepared I was. He started to slowly stroke himself, lifting up my chin to look at me.

He gently stroked a single finger across my jaw and then, suddenly, landed a harsh slap across my cheek. I yelped at the slap, causing a dangerous smile to form on Jeromes mouth. I should’ve been repulsed by him. He killed people and was aroused by my pain and fear, so why was I so attracted to him?

He angled himself underneath me so he was lined up and ready. He wrapped his hand back around my throat and then pushed forwards into me, causing us both to let out deep moans.

“You like that?”

I nodded and whimpered through the material of the tie. Jerome giggled darkly and with his free hand, gripped onto my waist.

“Brace yourself, princess.” He warned, through a poisonous smile.

He pulled back slowly, until he was almost completely out of me and then, like a bullet, ploughed himself right back in, jolting me backwards with force. He continued his thrusting rough and fast, making me whimper and bite down hard on the tie. I closed my legs tightly around him, pulling him closer and forcing him in deeper.

He let out a low, guttural groan and moved his hand upwards from my waist to slap me again, spitting at my face as he did so. I closed my eyes to endure the onslaught of him pounding inside me like a raging animal. I felt like a toy, dangling there for him to use as he liked, but still the searing pleasure of it all made me moan lustfully.

“Open those peepers, princess.” He commanded. “I want you to see exactly who’s in charge here.”

I opened my eyes and saw him grinning at me like a man possessed.

“You like this? You like me fucking you?” He growled, gripping my throat tighter.

All I could do was whimper and moan in response.

“I cuffed you and hung you up, hurt you, spat on you... even made you cry! And you still let me fuck you?” He laughed through shallow breaths. “You’re pathetic, you know that? A pathetic little whore.”

Jerome threw another slap at me and I felt myself tighten around his considerable length, taking him all deep inside me. He drove up into me like he was trying to break me open with his girth and I welcomed every inch of it.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He moaned.

I clenched my walls around him, the feeling of being filled by him sending flutters through me as he pushed in deeper and laughed.

“I don’t think your pussy ever wants to let me go, doll!” He grinned. “But I already know you like taking my cock like this, cause you’re such a good girl for me... I like that.”

I flushed at his words. I didn’t know why, but it made me feel good to please him and, in that moment, I would have done anything for him. I could feel my ecstasy creeping up on me, like magma rising inside a volcano. I cried out wantonly, the heat rising as he worked me, exploring every detail of my canal with his thick shaft.

He let go of my throat and moved both his hands to grab onto my ass and squeezed, steadying me so he could pound me harder and climb to release. His thrusts became erratic and sloppy and I could tell he was just as close as I was. I moaned loudly as he rammed into me harder and faster, burying himself deeper and making my arousal burn.

I could feel it coming, so close. I was about to boil over and all I needed was him. Just him. He continued thrusting like a raging animal, digging his nails into my flesh and scraping them along my ass, stinging sweetly. I whimpered at the sensation and tightened my legs.

“Cum for me, doll.” He panted. “I wanna feel you cum on my cock.”

He plunged into me, pushing the magma higher and just so close to bursting. It was coming. I could feel it.

He pounded again. So close. Again and again, so hard inside me. Just a little more...

I screamed out, closing my eyes and letting everything go. The feeling of my orgasm washed over me like a tidal wave of pure elation. My whole body shook from the force of it and I trembled like a leaf. Jerome continued to thrust into me until he too reached his climax. He growled like a beast and I felt him throb, releasing his hot load of sticky lust deep inside me.

We both relaxed, catching our breath and he stared down into my eyes. He unlatched his hands from the flesh of my ass and brought one round to gently stroke my cheek with his fingertips. It was quiet, but only for a minute.

He threw his head back and laughed like the madman he was, before pulling out of me and stepping back. My legs dropped to the floor and he began to put himself away and zip his trousers back up.

“Well, that was fantastic, dollface. Thanks for playing nice with me.” He said, throwing me a wink.

There was a loud metallic knock at the truck doors and I guessed whoever it was, was trying to get Jeromes attention.

“It’s been fun princess, really. But time waits for no man and I’ve got a party to attend” He said, smiling at me. “Well, more like crash.”

When he turned to leave, I tried to speak, but all that came out was intelligible muttering. He wasn’t going to leave me here, dangling, half naked and gagged like this? Was he? He began walking to the truck doors and I tried to call out.

“Oh! Wait, almost forgot.”

I felt a flood of relief when he began walking back to me.

“I’m gonna need this back.” He said and pulled the tie out of my mouth.

I was glad to finally be rid of it, but my joy was short lived, because he was starting to leave again.

“Hey...” I croaked; my mouth dry.

“Yeah, I’ll have someone come get you later.” He said, too nonchalantly for my liking. “For now, you can just... well, why don’t you just hang out?”

He laughed at his joke and opened the doors.

“Hey! You can’t leave me here!” I tried to shout, but my throat was too dry.

And then... he was gone. He really did just leave me alone, half naked in the back of a truck. How long would it be before someone found me? An hour? Two? The rest of the day?

All alone with my thoughts now, I decided the only thing to do now was wait. Wait and try and go over what the hell just happened between me and Jerome Valeska.

[unfoundhoney]

a sister’s sacrifice ; part three ↠

↠ platonic!c!sleepy bois inc x fem!reader , platonic!c!tubbo x fem!reader ; angst just angst

↠ masterlist

↠ part one ; part two ; part three ;

↠ @leafyturtle @basheverythingyesterday @terribletoothbat @bestioe @junoblad3 @machiebach @ok-honey

when considering the deaths of the people on the dream smp server, yours is the hardest

schlatt was detested by all when he’d died

few people still truly cared for wilbur when he met his end; the man he once was was long gone by then

but you

you never changed

you were a constant for so many & immovably kind to the rest

selfless, giving, caring

even when you just wanted an escape, you came to the aid of your brothers

you gave the ultimate sacrifice & paid the price

everyone mourns you

when the battle is won & dream locked away indefinitely

once everyone has come down from the high of freeing themselves from dream’s reign, the server goes into a state of grieving

there’s no denying your death

they all saw the message in chat

you’re dead

those that were close to you took it hard

niki was narrowly stopped from burning down the bakery you encouraged her to open and helped build

eret put her emotions into work on a memorial in their museum for you

even under the egg’s control, bad & ant put the eggpire aside for you

of course, those who took it the hardest is your family

when ghostbur learns of your death, he’s distraught

he doesn’t quite know how to handle the information

he protects your home & only allows people to enter when he supervises them

tommy took a while to move past his anger & deal with the fact that you’re gone

tubbo ran off to start snowchester

he chose to distract himself rather than truly process his emotions, even if you’d always done your best to break that habit of his

now that you’re not around, who’s to stop him from letting himself be numb to it all?

techno is another one of your family members who chose to barely acknowledge your passing

he became somehow more monotonous & emotionless

and phil

...

there’s no word for a parent who loses a child

wilbur was gone & of course it messed phil up to be the one to take will’s last life but by that point his son was gone

but you

you’d always been such a genuinely good person

phil did so little for you as a father

he was so absent

he never apologized to you for that

he never told you how much he loves & appreciates you & everything you’ve done to keep their family together when he couldn’t be bothered

it’s a few hours after he received the news from ranboo that all the guilt for everything he had ever put you through hit him

he broke down in his kitchen while trying to distract himself by organizing his cupboards

but all he could think about was you

you & your never ending kindness & compassion

he was never a father to you

yet you never hated him

why couldn’t you have hated him?

it would hurt less to lose you if you hated him; it’s what he deserves

he’s unworthy of your love

but he can only dwell so long on you

you are given a proper funeral

you’re buried by the seashore, somewhere between l’manberg and tommy’s abandoned vacation homes in an open field

the sever members plant so many flowers, your gravesite becomes a flower field

but soon, life goes on

it will only hurt for longer to draw out the mourning period

it would do no good for anyone

besides, you wouldn’t want the server to be sad for your sake

techno supposes it’s for the best that you died

he does his best to move on, filling his days with resource gathering and upgrading his tools, weapons, and armor while trying to think through his emotions logically

as much as he liked you

as much as everyone liked you, you were too good

you were the best of them

fate is not kind to heroes

“hello!”

technoblade is not an easy man to sneak up on, let alone scare

the greeting itself isn’t want startles him

it’s turning toward the voice to lock eyes with you

you who is dead

techno is not proud of the sound he made when he saw you but you of all people wouldn’t make fun of him for it

he just stares at you, slowly realizing what’s happened

you look desaturated, the color drained from your clothes

your skin is grey & almost translucent

you’re a ghost

“y/n.”

“hello! who are you?”

techno tells no on one of your ghost form

he even keeps the rest of the server a secret from you

he leads you to your old home & leaves you there w/ ghostbur

he hopes your and ghostbur’s combined amnesia will keep you out of harm’s way i.e. the rest of the server

he visits you occasionally but mostly leaves you be

you live happily with ghostbur for a while

he is very glad to have you back

his memory is nearly as bad as yours, so the story of the server & what happened to you when you were alive is only given to you in bits & pieces that are near impossible to fit together

it was only a matter of time before someone came to visit your house

“...y/n?”

it’s tubbo who finds you first

or he finds your ghost

(tubbo) y/n! oh my god! you’re a ghost! you’ve come back!

(you) hello! *whispers* ghostbur, who is this?

(ghostbur, whispering obviously) that’s tubbo, one of your other brothers i’ve told you about

(you, whispering) oh, right

(tubbo) how long have you- oh, this is incredible! i have to tell tommy! he’s been so sad since you died; he’ll be so glad to see you!

tubbo messages tommy, who is skeptical but reluctantly comes to your house anyway

but there you are

your ghost anyway

which is good enough, honestly

(tommy) y/n!

you catch him in a hug easily, even if you’ve never met him before

(tommy) you’re alive!

(you) no i’m not. i’m a ghost!

techno happens to check in on you when tubbo & tommy are there

bad news for technoblade: you’d told them about techno leading you here

meaning: tommy knows techno hid you from him & everyone else

needless to say, he is not too happy about that

(tommy) you hid her! you kept her away from us!

(techno) tommy, you have to understand-

(tommy) i don’t have to understand shit! you hid her from us! you lied to us!

(techno) tommy-

(tommy) you kept her from everyone! you’re selfish and you’re a liar and you’re horrible and-

(techno) i did it to protect her! she’s been hurt enough protecting others; it’s our turn to protect her. the only way we can do that is by leaving her alone

(tommy) she’s my sister

(techno) your sister is dead, tommy. for once in her life, let her have peace

tommy gives up on techno & goes to you instead

(tommy) y/n! y/n, we can bring you back. we can revive you. well, dream can revive you but he’s in prison so he has to do what we say so we can bring you back. we can be a family again. don’t you want to come back?

(you) ...no

that

...

that isn’t what tommy was expecting

(tommy) what?

(you) if alive y/n comes back, i won’t exist anymore. and i’ve only just got here. i don’t want to go yet

(tommy) don’t you understand how much y/n means to me? y/n has to come back. she has to. she’s so important. not just to me but to, um... tubbo as well! right, tubbo? don’t you want y/n back?

tommy looks to tubbo for some backup but the shorter boy looks away

(tubbo) i think we need to let y/n go, tommy

the betrayal that fills tommy’s chest is soon gone as he locks eyes with techno

tommy knows techno is right

you’re too much of a good person

you’re too willing to sacrifice yourself for others

even as a ghost your kindness is blinding

this server will only drain you of everything you have yet again

he will drain you of everything you are

he’s just tried to convince you to cease to exist to bring back the former version of yourself

(you) i’m sorry. it’s just- i’ve heard there are these really pretty blue flowers in the swamp biome that i haven’t got to see yet-

(tommy) no. it’s fine. i’m sorry. i-... i should go.

tommy leaves your house & tubbo goes with him

even if tubbo caught on a bit sooner to techno’s reasoning, he’s still concerned at his friend’s sudden change in character

(tubbo) tommy... are you alright?

(tommy) ...i really want her back

(tubbo) i do, too. but she’s gone

(tommy) she doesn’t have to be

tubbo can’t argue with that

(tommy) but... maybe it’s for the best

(tubbo) really?

(tommy) yeah.

(tubbo) but just earlier you were telling me about your plan to get the revive book from dream

(tommy) techno’s right, tubbo. all everyone- myself included- has ever done to y/n is take. and she’s given everything

(tubbo) because she loved us

(tommy) as much as she loved us and as much as we loved her... the only thing we’ve ever brought her is pain. i think now... now is her time to rest.

(tubbo) ...that’s very pog champ of you, big man

tommy had planned to visit dream as many times as it took to get the revive book location off of him so he could revive you, but now he’s accepted that he needs to move on

he needs to move on from you & dream & everything dream has put him through

he decides to pay one last visit to dream, put him behind him, & never look back

he’s ready to start a new chapter in his life, one without dream

and the first one without you

but then he’s locked in the prison

two weeks pass

nearing three weeks & tommy still isn’t allowed out of dream’s cell

he’s irritated and annoyed and most of all he’s scared

but he can’t let dream know he’s still afraid of him, that’s why he pisses dream off enough to the point of being beat to death

tommy begs him to stop

but then he’s gone

everything is dark

black

empty

nothing

is this what death is?

conscious in absolute nothingness?

tommy’s feet feel the ground beneath him

his senses come back to him

it’s still dark but he feels as though he can see again

where is he?

heaven?

no, probably hell

or maybe neither?

both...?

what the hell happened?

the first thing to break the silence is the voice tommy has known since he was an infant

the voice of the person who raised him

the voice of the person who has always been there for him

the voice of the person who he has finally let go of

your voice

saying one simple word

“tommy?”

[mackenzielovee]

Hi, I loved crazy love. Literally I become obsessed, so I was wondering if you could write something about them when they are moving to their new apartment near to college and both of their families are helping them to have everything in order, but Rafe only want them to leave to be all alone with you in their new home. Maybe a little bit of smut?

a/n: this idea had my heart bc i'd really been wanting to write something like this ;) i hope you enjoy! thanks so much for the request!

Warnings: swearing, smut, mentions of planned pregnancy, discussion of sex

crazy love masterlist

my writing

our home: crazy love blurb - rafe cameron

"No, no a little to the left. Ward, are you listening to me?"

You sigh as you set the very last box down on the kitchen counter, stealing a glance at Rafe, who is sitting on your new couch. His head is in his hands as he listens to his parents bicker back and forth, trying to hang up the painting they had bought the two of you. Rose had gushed over it when she bought it, telling you it would match the rest of your decor perfectly.

"Of course, darling. You're talking loud enough," Ward gripes, shifting the painting to the left as Rose demands.

"Oh, come on, now. Back over to the right-"

"It's straight!" Rafe raises his voice, standing up from the couch.

You inhale sharply and step into the living room of your new apartment, wrapping an arm around him to try and calm him down. Ever since his parents and Wheezie arrived with the moving truck to help you both, he's been on edge. When your parents showed up with Macy, you thought he was about to go into cardiac arrest.

"Actually, I think it might just be straight," Rose nods, "Good eye, Rafe."

"Thanks so much," he remarks sarcastically.

"Hey," you whisper to him, trying to tell him to quit being mean to his step-mom, "They're here to help, remember?"

Rafe rolls his eyes, "I could do this shit myself."

"Because you're such a handy man?" you snort.

Rafe clenches his jaw as he looks down at you, but can't help the smirk on his face. He pulls you closer to him, leaving a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Where did Macy and Wheezie go? They should start on those kitchen boxes," Rose tells Ward, stepping away from her husband to look for them.

"We can handle the kitchen boxes," Rafe tells her.

"Y/N?" Rose looks to you for a final answer.

You glance up at Rafe only for a second, noting the look on his face, then nod your head in agreement.

"I like the kitchen organized a certain way, anyway," you tell her with a smile.

She nods her head, "All right. Ward and I can start on your sheets-"

"Y/N's parents are taking care of that," Rafe informs her.

Wheezie and Macy come tumbling into the front door, running past all of you and into your bedroom with your parents.

"What the hell are those two up to?" Ward questions.

Wheezie and Macy have become as thick as thieves, the best of friends, over the summer. One day, you'd shown up at Rafe's only to find your sister in her kitchen with Wheezie, baking away. Ever since then, you and Rafe have had to be extra quiet upstairs.

Rose and Ward step toward your bedroom as well, which is down a small hallway just off the kitchen. Rafe grabs your hand and yanks you with him, following the crowd of people.

"Can everyone get out of our bedroom, please?" Rafe grumbles, standing behind his father and watching your parents finish up making your bed.

Your parents had not been crazy about you and Rafe living together right as you both make the transition to college. You had cried, begged, threatened to not go to school, and even dragged Rafe over for a family dinner so all of you could talk the situation out. You'd never seen Rafe's face so red as the night he had to sit at a dinner table and discuss with your father how the two of you would be sleeping in the same bed.

When your parents found out that the Camerons would be financing your rent bill, however, the living situation had changed. Your parents hadn't realized how expensive dorm living is, and the thought of not having to pay for housing on top of tuition sounded like a dream come true.

Which is how you land in your new, empty kitchen, trying to hold Rafe back from killing every family member the two of you currently have within arms reach.

"It's quarter to three," your dad tells your mother over your bed.

"Macy," your mom speaks, "Get your stuff, honey. We have to get going."

"Yeah," Rafe perks up, earning the attention of his parents, "You guys should get moving, too. Y'know, lots of traffic, and Wheezie's got that thing early in the morning."

Wheezie opens her mouth to speak, but stops suddenly when Rafe gives her the death stare. She looks to you, to which you just shrug, and then turns back to her parents.

"What thing?" Rose asks her. Ward's phone buzzes in his pocket, earning his attention.

"Uh," Wheezie hesitates, looking to Rafe once more.

"Girl scout meeting," Rafe blurts.

You cover your face with your free hand to try and prevent Rose from seeing your laughter. You truly have no idea where Rafe gets this idea that Wheezie is old enough to be in girl scouts. Wheezie narrows her eyes at him, shaking her head slightly.

"Girl scout?" Rose questions to herself, still trying to figure it out when Ward speaks up, eyes still glued to his phone.

"Wheezie, get your stuff. You won't want to be tired in the morning at your meeting."

Wheezie rolls her eyes but does as she's told, making her way out of your bedroom and down the hall to collect her things in the living room.

"Seriously, Rafe?" she hisses, "Girl scouts? I'm fourteen-"

"Shut up, Wheeze," Rafe says back to her through gritted teeth.

Wheezie turns to you, "He's your problem, now."

"Oh, boy, do I know it," you tease Rafe, smiling with Wheezie. She laughs, but it's short lived when Rafe shoves her away.

"Get your shit," he mutters.

"Stop it," you demand, stepping in front of him and holding onto his forearms as they are wrapped around your waist.

The one thing you love about Rafe more than anything is how he always shows affection to you, even if your parents or his parents are around. He just doesn't seem to care about anyone except you.

"I want them to go," he defends himself, keeping his voice quiet, "I just want to be alone with you. In our home. I didn't realize that was such a difficult request."

You smile up at your fussy boy, dragging one hand up to his face to stroke his cheek. You can faintly hear your families moving around the two of you, but you're too lost in your own little world to think too much about it.

"Be patient," you whisper to him.

He smirks, "Will you make it worth my while?"

You give him back the same look, loving the way he smirks at you and allows his eyes to rake over every inch of your face and torso. It takes everything in him not to just grab you by the throat and kiss the hell out of you, only controlling himself because your dad is ten feet away.

"Don't I always?"

Rafe groans, trying his best to keep his composure. He has to close his eyes as he continues to whine, knowing that if he keeps looking at you, he'll be hard in no time.

"All right," Rafe says loudly, tugging himself away from you, "Thanks for coming, everyone, but we have a lot to unpack here. Dad, Rose, Wheezie, I'll show you to the door."

You snicker as you watch him attempt to lead his confused family out the door. You turn to your own family, giving hugs and promising to call whenever you can. Rose refuses to leave without giving you a hug, which pisses Rafe off, as he's gotten Ward and Wheezie out successfully and only needs one more.

Rose promises to send flowers, one that match the color scheme of course, and tells you she'll call you to check on Rafe, since he doesn't bother to return her calls. You give Wheezie a hug and give Ward a polite smile and wave from the doorway.

The second they're all out the door, Rafe slams the door shut and locks it before any of them can decide they forgot something.

"Ah, free at last," you joke.

Rafe turns around, licking his lips as he thinks about how you two finally have an empty house and he has you all to himself. No distractions, no parents, no little sisters listening intently at the door for secrets and drama. He eyes you up and down once, and when he brings his blue orbs to meet yours again, you know what he's thinking.

"Come here," he demands, but he can't help himself.

That boy rushes over to you, pushing you up against the wall in the entryway of your new apartment, kissing you as if his life depends on it. You accept his kiss without a second thought, allowing your hands to wrap themselves around his neck.

"Up," he mutters against your lips, hands guiding themselves to your waist as you jump up and let him position himself in between your legs, wrapping them around his torso.

He moves his kisses to your cheek, then your jawline, then your neck, while his hands relentlessly roam your ass.

"Rafe," you say, tilting your neck to give him more space.

"Hmm," he hums against your skin, not stopping or slowing down for anything.

"I really do have to unpack the kitchen if you want to eat dinner tonight," you tell him, although you're fully aware he would never set you down for anything right now.

"Not hungry."

"Rafe-"

"I think," he stops you, wet kisses trailing your collarbone, "We should fuck everywhere. Y'know, break the place in."

Even though you two have been together for a while, him saying things like that to you always seems to send tingles through your whole body. He always knew what to say, what to do, to get you riled up in all the right ways.

"That would take us all night," you whisper, smirking because you already know what he's going to say.

"Fine with me, baby."

You smile, then reach down and grab ahold of his cheek with your hand. You lead his lips back to yours, kissing him harder than you had been before. He moans into your mouth and you know you have him right where you want him now.

"Kitchen first?" he questions, breathless, "Or should we mess up that pretty little bed your parents just made up?"

The raspiness in his voice gets you going, enough for him to notice you squirming in his grip. He grins, knowing exactly what it is you need.

"Kitchen," you tell him, watching as he barely nods before he kisses you again, carrying you over and setting you on the counter.

With ease, he removes your shorts and underwear, dropping his own shorts to the floor beneath him. He kicks all of the clothes away, knowing the two of you won't be needing them for a very long time.

"I can't wait, baby," he mumbles, excusing his lack of foreplay.

You shake your head, and he already knows you don't mind based on the way you're dripping onto the granite, "Please, Rafe."

He smirks and then grunts as he enters you, breathing out a sigh of relief that you two are finally home.

By the time you and Rafe even make it to your bedroom, he has to carry you because your legs can't physically function anymore. Rafe's proud of his work, but pretended to pout when he finished you off on the couch and you told him you needed a break.

He lays you down on your new, freshly made bed, moving the pillows out of your way and tucking you underneath the duvet. He climbs in beside you and molds you into his body almost instantly, inhaling your shampoo scent and perfume, thinking about how perfect this moment truly is.

"I can't believe it," he whispers.

"I know."

"Our home."

"Yes, it is."

You two lay there for a while, staring out at the tens of boxes that have each of your names written on them, just begging to be unpacked. You're sure Rafe's boxes will still be sitting there in two weeks, as he had packed a separate duffle bag of his 'essential' belongings.

"You know," he starts after a while, a devious smirk finding it's way to his cheeks, "The next big step is having a mini you. Or a mini me. But, I'd rather have a mini you."

"We just moved into our college apartment and you're talking about impregnating me," you laugh, as if to ask him if he's serious.

"She'll be so cute," he goes on, "A little girl that looks just like you. And she'd have your smarts, thank God, because she'd be screwed with mine. But she'd have my humor, of course."

"Of course?" you tease him.

"And then we'll have a boy."

"Wow, Rafe Cameron, you really just have this all figured out," you move your head up to look at him, noting the small, cheesy smile plastered across his face.

"I do, baby. He'll be a hellion, though. Never listening, always running away, but a total momma's boy. Never wants you to leave his side-"

"So, just like his dad, then?" you grin, watching Rafe clench his jaw and shake his head.

"Break's over," he grunts, rolling you on your back and climbing on top of you, "We're trying, now."

"No, we're not," you say forcefully.

Rafe rolls his eyes, "I'm joking. We'll wait until, like, junior year or something."

"Rafe."

"Fine. But the second you walk across that stage with your diploma, I'm putting a baby in you."

"Deal."

Tags:

@hollandsour @flowerkidlxrry @kookkyra @pogueslandia @sarahwasfound @fuzzyhumanpersontrash @rafecameronn @rafeswh0ree @outerbankies @morganwilliams

*if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist at any time, please send me an ask!

[incendiobrock]

Pranked You ;) {Colby Brock}

Request: Hello sweetie! I was wondering if you could do a story where the reader and Colby aren't dating YET but there is yah know, chemistry and tension. But one day sam decided to pull a prank on Colby and it involved EVERYONE. So basically he makes it seem like he woke up in a different world or something where stuff is different. For example: him and reader are dating (you can choose whatever other stuff happens, lol) but once Colby figures out the prank, he pulls reader aside. They have a small argument before reader blows off on him, in which he says "I've never wanted to kiss you as badly as I do know" and that's how they admit their feelings! Thank you! And can't wait to see what you write love

A/N: Hi! Thank you so much for your request, sorry for the wait, I have been very busy with school and work. I hope the wait is worth it though! Get ready for a long imagine, I’m pretty sure this is about 3,000 words. I hope you love it! I just realized that I tried to keep this imagine gender neutral but I forgot that I accidentally put some she/her pronouns in it, I’m so sorry!

Warnings: Angsty, Cussing, Mentions of alcohol, implied smut

------------------------------------------------------------

It was just like any other day for you. You woke up around noon because you were exhausted from the day before. Between working, going to college, and trying to keep somewhat of a social life, everyone could see just how worn out you would get day to day. So today you decided to treat yourself with a few extra hours of this beautiful thing called sleep.

Your phone rest on the bedside table and of course checking it and replying to the unread messages was the first step of your morning routine. The first messages you saw were from the group chat that consisted of you, Kat, and Tara. Apparently, while you were sleeping, Tara and Kat had a whole conversation about a girl’s day that they wanted to plan for you three. The last text sent was from Kat and it read, “I can’t wait for y/n to see all these messages in the morning. We planned the best girl’s day while she was probably passed the fuck out in her bed lmao”.

You smiled sending them a text back alerting them that you are indeed alive and down for all the plans they had created. In fact, you would be seeing them later at Sam and Colby’s place for a couple’s dinner/pool/movie date night. Jake would be there as well, and although you were tragically single, you loved all of them to death and hanging out over there was like the most elite sleepovers you would have with your best friends as a child.

A new text appeared on your screen just as you began to emerge from the comfort of your bed sheets, “God finally you’re awake. I’ve been waiting for Kat to tell me you answered her message all morning. I need your help tonight with a prank. Colby is never going to see it coming”

“A prank? I thought you guys didn’t do that anymore...? But I’m in ;)” You sent back. Out of all the trap girls and all the boys, Colby and you got along the best. Ever since you first met, which was years ago at this point, Colby and you have been inseparable. You tried so hard to avoid your feelings for him, in hopes to not develop a crush that ended up ruining your friendship, but Kat picked up on it right away. She told you constantly that she could easily set you up with the beautiful blue-eyed boy, but you insisted that things would happen naturally if there was truly something there between the two of you. And so, you went on, day by day, falling helplessly in love with the sweetest boy you have ever come to know.

Sam sent a message telling you to head over to their place as soon as possible. You swore that you basically lived there already. You were at their house way more than you were at your own. You couldn’t imagine living further than 15 minutes from them. After what felt like a century to Sam, you arrived at the house. Your hand loudly knocking on the big wooden door.

“Hey y/n! How are you?” Kat asked, pulling you into a big hug as she opened the door. You smiled and hugged back at her kind gesture, “I’m good! How are you? Do you know anything about this prank on you know who?” You questioned her. She glared at you, silently telling you to lower your volume. “Y/n! Colby is right upstairs be quiet!” She whispers, laughing at you almost blowing their cover immediately upon arrival.

Kat was quick to take you by the arm and drag you to the theater room where Sam was already sitting on one of the opulent red couches. He greeted you, telling you that he wanted to film your reaction to him telling you what prank you were going to pull. You agreed and sat down on the sofa facing the blonde. “Colby’s taking a nap right now upstairs because he was up super late last night editing one of our Sam and Colby videos. I figured we could use his exhaustion to our advantage and try and prank him that he woke up in some sort of alternate universe. I figured you could go into his room and set up a couple cameras, and I’ll keep two hidden in the living room where me, Kat, Jake, and Tara will be, so we hopefully get his full reaction. I want you to sneak into his bed and like cuddle him or something and when he wakes up, I want you to pretend that you’ve been dating him for a long time now. He is going to be super confused but just try and convince him that it’s true. If he ends up downstairs, we will go along with it too. I really want to see if he will think that it’s real after a while.” Sam explained.

You felt your face burning as your cheeks became a deep shade of red. He couldn’t be serious right? He wanted you to pretend that you were dating Colby? “I- Uh… I don’t know Sam won’t that be a really mean prank?” You tried to play it off, hoping that you didn’t just annihilate all your efforts to keep your feelings hidden. “You guys are like best friends, I don’t think he could be mad at you for such an innocent prank.” Sam replied. You began to feel incredibly flustered at the thought of having to be so affectionate with Colby. The room started to feel like a sauna as the sweat began accumulating all over your body.

Sure, you and Colby had cuddled before, but it was extremely platonic… Plus, it only happened in very specific moments, like last Wednesday after you had a couple of drinks, and everyone was sat watching a movie where he wrapped his arm around you so you could rest your head since it could barely hold itself up. You snapped out of your thoughts quickly realizing that Sam had been waiting on a response from you. You knew Sam was stubborn, he wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Your eyes met back with his and the only thing you could get yourself to do was slightly nod your head ‘yes’.

“Perfect.” Sam smirked, getting up to turn off the camera and hand it to you so you could set it up in Colby’s room. You already knew that he was thinking about how many points this would score him for a Sam and Colby prank war if it turns out the way he is wanting.

Before you knew it you had made it all the way up into Colby’s room where you had strategically hidden the camera, facing it towards the sleeping boy in his bed. You let out a deep sigh, trying to prepare yourself for what was about to go down. “If this ruins everything for me, I am going to kill you Golbach.” You whispered, knowing the deep sleeper wouldn’t hear a single thing. And so, the prank began.

You took a gentle hold of the silky black sheets and quietly slipped into bed right next to Colby. There was no game plan in your mind, you didn’t even think up a storyline about your fake relationship for once he woke up. You squeezed your eyes shut in fear as you quickly wrapped your body around his, resting your head under his chin as he slept on his back. He twitched slightly, bringing his arm up, lazily holding you back. The breath caught in your throat, this was already hard enough for you and now he is cuddling you back? You glanced up to see his face, his eyelashes were slightly fluttering, and his soft lips had a slight part in them. He was still fast asleep. You decided to try and wake him up by moving around in his arm slightly, hoping the movement would pull him out of his dreams.

“Y/n?” His voice rung through the room, deep and raspy. He sat up slightly, glancing around the dark lair that he called a bedroom, but his arm still remained around your frame. “W-what are you doing here?” He stuttered, visibly confused by the sight of you in his arms.

“What? I can’t cuddle my boyfriend?” You answered, shocked that you could even get those words to come out of your mouth. His eyes widened at your response, pure shock etched into his face. “Boyfriend?” You felt his heart start to race as he replied.

His arm dropped from your body as he delicately pushed himself out of bed. He was now hovering over you as he stood by the bedside table. There was a clear glass with some water sitting on a coaster on the table. His strong hand wrapped around it as he brought it up to his mouth, downing the rest of the water that was in it. You could tell by his body language that he was beyond confused. The glass clinked as he practically dropped it back onto the nightstand.

“Am I dreaming or something? Since when was I your boyfriend?” His eyebrows furrowed as he continued to look at you for some answers. Your heart sunk thinking about how mean of a prank this truly was, at least from your point of view. “Baby… Are you serious? We’ve been together for years now, are you feeling okay?” You said as you threw your legs over the side of the bed, pulling his hand into your own.

Your thumb gently rubbed circles onto the back of his hand, but only for a couple seconds before he pulled it away. “Is this a fucking prank or something?” He asked, irritation evident from his tone. You shook your head ‘no’, it was becoming hard to process words. You knew this was upsetting him, but Sam had you promise to make the prank last for as long as you could.

“I’m sorry- I have to get out of here really quick.” Colby said, making his way out the bedroom door. You said nothing back, hoping that Sam would end the prank for you as Colby made his way down the stairs.

“Hey brother! You’re finally up. Where’s y/n? I thought we were all doing a couples movie night?” Jake interrogated as Colby glanced to see Sam, Kat, and Tara standing over in the kitchen. Colby brought his hand up to his face rubbing his eyes, there’s no way that Jake is saying this too. Colby began to think that he was seriously going crazy. And then everyone else joined in on the conversation. You could hear them loudly as you stayed glued to Colby’s bed.

Sam began to ask if Colby was feeling alright, and you heard Kat say that maybe we should take Colby to the hospital in case he was losing his memory. You felt the panic in Colby rise as he was deflecting everyone’s concern insisting that he wasn’t losing his memory, and that he definitely wasn’t going crazy. He knew for a fact that you two weren’t dating, and none of them could convince him otherwise. “Dude, she’s gonna hear you up there. You’re going to break her heart. You really don’t remember?” Sam pushed.

You finally had enough. You raced out of Colby’s room and rushed down the stairs. You stopped immediately upon entering the kitchen, seeing everybody else still standing there surrounding Colby. The energy switched as they all looked to you, Sam pleading with his eyes for you to keep going. “I’m so sorry Colby, it was just a prank, please don’t be upset.” You couldn’t handle it any longer, the pain on his face was too much for you to bear. You watched as he scoffed back, “I knew it. Fuck you, guys. I’m going back upstairs.”

You felt horrible as you watched him stomp back up to his room, slamming the door shut behind him. Tears stung the back of your eyes, this was all your fault. You excused yourself from the group and somberly made it to Colby’s door. You preceded to place a faint knock on the wood, “Colby? I’m so sorry, can you please open up?” Your voice was so soft, it would’ve been hard for him to hear if he hadn’t already anticipated your arrival. The door swung open as Colby quickly made his way back over to where he previously sat on the couch.

You stayed frozen at the door for a couple seconds, hoping to brace yourself for the angry boy inside. You took hold of the cold metal doorknob, pulling the door shut behind you. You tip-toed your way over to the sofa and took a seat far from Colby. Your mind was running a hundred miles an hour as you tried to concoct a coherent sentence. “What the hell were you thinking? Did you seriously think that I would find this funny?” He spat in your direction.

“It wasn’t my prank, Sam just wanted me to help him out.” You said back, desperately trying to reason with him. He sarcastically laughed, running a hand through his dark hair. “I didn’t ask who’s prank it was y/n.”

You gulped, it felt suffocating in his room. The dark ambiance that normally felt inviting suddenly seemed like your own personal hell. “Colby, I didn’t want to hurt you I swear. I was trying my best to keep everything lighthearted. I could never hurt you.” Your voice was so delicate, it was so hard to speak. The tears were still threating to make an appearance, and that was the last thing you wanted.

“But you did, y/n. That’s the thing. Whether or not you ‘meant’ to hurt me, you did. And everyone else was in on it to. Did you even try and tell Sam that this prank wasn’t a good idea? Did you even think, for a split second, that this was incredibly immature? You were all treating me like I was losing my damn mind, trying to convince me that we were dating when we clearly never were.”

His words hurt, but they were all true. You had never been together, what were you thinking pretending like you were? All to satisfy Sam? To help him get a head start on the prank wars by completely crushing Colby’s heart? He is your best friend for crying out loud. “Look Colby. I never wanted to do this, okay? Did you ever stop and think that maybe I didn’t want to be doing this either? You mean everything to me. Why would I ever purposely hurt you? Especially after everything we have been through. All the ups and downs, the messy breakups, all the fights. I love you so god damn much and I hope you know that I would never, ever, hurt you like that.” By this point the tears were streaming down your face. Your previous spot on the couch was long discarded as you now stood right in front of Colby, praying that he knew you were being serious about not hurting him.

Your eyes searched his for any glimpse of a sign showing that he believed you. His bright blue eyes looked a lot more intimidating than usual. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, his expression not giving you any clues. Finally, he responded, “Is it wrong that I’ve never wanted to kiss you as badly as I do right now?”

And finally, there was your sign. His eyes no longer looked intimidating. In fact, they had completely changed into something much different, lust. You quickly took a step closer to him as he took a stand right in front of you, placing his strong hands on either side of your face. He roughly pulled you in, causing your lips to crash together with loads of passion. They fit perfectly together, better than you ever imagined them. They worked in sync as the feeling inside of you was igniting a fire. He was so rough, but surprisingly still gentle. Acting as if one wrong move would completely break you. Your lips remained locked as he pushed you backwards, surprising you as your back made contact with his plush bed. He was on top of you, hungrily continuing the kiss.

You both pulled apart abruptly, gasping for air after your heavy make out session. “I guess now’s a good time to let you know that I am absolutely, one hundred percent, in love with you.” You stated, starring deep into his eyes. “Then I guess now’s a good time to tell you that I feel the same.” He responded, bringing you back in for another passionate kiss. You pulled back again, “So, does this mean I can finally see those handcuffs I keep hearing about in action?” You asked him, slightly laughing. “Only if you promise to keep quiet.” He winked back. And that was the start of your amazing, long awaited relationship.

[leviiattacks]

May I request a Levi x Reader angst fic? Just barely any fluff, mostly angst going on lol. The reader is a traitor, formaly working for Marley, but betraying them in secret and putting their loyalty on Paradis. The reader is also a shifter and married to Levi for a couple of years. That love and care however is gone once readers identity is found. He truly despises them, insults them, maybe a bit violent with them, and outright tells them that they mean nothing to him anymore and hate them to bits. Readers punishment is to hand over her titan to Erwin, and they agree instantly, broken over everything, believing its all their fault. Once Erwin inherits Readers titan, he breaks down and screams, crying, because Reader was innocent the whole time. They never betrayed Paradis. Never killed anyone, never harmed anyone. They finaly know why they betrayed Marley, the abuse being to much for them, enough to just leave them behind for Paradis. Just... loving and caring as they all saw them. But now the damage is done. They wont come back, they're dead, believing that they died, hated and despised, with no one to mourn their death. Everyone regrets everything.

author note :: i was thinking of leaving this in my drafts but i already wrote it and may as well post it. it didn’t end up going the way i hoped but yeah i hope it’s ok anon. anyways ANGST. ANGST, ANGST. as always i love feed back :-) ⟹ all of the headings with the years are just meant to mean it’s a different moment from that year so those moments don’t happen right after each other i hope that makes sense!! word count :: 7.2k warnings :: canon typical violence, death

845, i.

Everything is falling in place when it shouldn't.

Sun never makes itself known in Liberio yet here it is shining down onto the bustling streets. You half expect for it to crash down and burn into the hundreds of civilians going about their daily business yet nothing of the sort happens. It's typical sunlight and you curse yourself silently for your sinister thoughts.

Secretly the voice at the back of your mind still whispers frantically but you don't wish to hear what it has to say. Instead you choose to drown it out with the sound of Zeke's voice. Finally deciding to pay attention to what it is he's been droning on about for the past ten minutes.

"Soon, soon, soon." He sighs dreamily looking a little delirious.

"Soon?"

Your question catches him off guard, he lightly shoves you with his elbow scoffing in annoyance.

"Did you sit here to not even listen to me?" He turns to take a sip of whisky and the hearty gulp he chugs shows his mild irritation. You assume he's been rambling on about Marley's plan to infiltrate Paradis. You have to admit that the idea of destroying those demons from the inside is amazingly well thought out. However it's all he's been able to discuss for the entire week now and frankly you're getting a little exhausted of it.

"I zoned out..." Quietly placing your glass back down onto the wooden counter you sigh closing your eyes. It's too early to be drinking and you don't trust Zeke enough to slip into ignorance and leave yourself vulnerable. Men are to not be trusted, especially Eldian men. The thought of Eldians triggers your flight of fight response, you want to shrivel up into a cocoon and never come out until the world is rid of the monsters. The lowest of the low, the dirt in between the crevices of Marleyan soldier's boots. That is what Eldian's are.

It's ironic coming from you, your entire family labelled as undesirable Eldians yourself but you, you know you're different. An honorary Marleyan is what you will become. What you are. The treacherous imps who are but an ocean away are the true evil.

Eyes flicking to Zeke he's lighting a cigar. Old habits die hard and he's yet to quit this self destructive custom of his. You couldn't care less if he chooses to cut his lifespan short by ten years, it's his own choice to make. A disgusting cowardly choice but it's a choice fit for an untamed man like him.

The Island Devils are said to be the bad apples but you can't help but stare at your fellow citizens from time to time and wonder what it is they could be hiding. If a demon slipped through the cracks you wouldn't be surprised. Sly in nature, persuasive in tone, that is how devils go about their daily lives alone The hymns they drilled into you all the way through elementary school echo and rebound in your mind.

Locking your bitter thoughts away you have to push yourself to not punt Zeke in the mouth when he teasingly blows a puff of hot smoke into your face.

Fingertips grazing with his he freezes at the sudden contact giving you the perfect opportunity to slip his cigar away and take it in between your lips. You allow for it to linger there but you aren't foolish enough to inhale its contents.

"Zeke, my dear friend. We shall soon be met with the fruits of our own labour but I assure you that discussing Marley's plan constantly will be of no benefit for you nor I."

The day you and Zeke had met had been at warrior training camp. Zeke was a miserable, unmotivated oaf. Always tripping and falling behind the rest of the warrior cadets. You felt rather bad for him, if you were born as unskilled as him you don't know what you would have made of yourself. Zeke, the only child of his parents ironically only ever ended up rising through the ranks after handing them over to the Marleyan government. His father and mother had been conspiring an escape plan but were executed immediately alongside their fellow team members once Zeke had outted them. Unexpectedly he was spared, the fact he turned on his own parents showed where his loyalties were. To his surprise, he was even allowed to continue his training with the other warriors - only this time everyone kept an increased distance away from him. The warriors weren't informed of what he had actually done but everyone had a gut feeling. Everyone apart from you stuck with that feeling. You thought strategically, If he were to become an enemy in the future you knew being close would come at your advantage.

The day you and Zeke had met your mother died, his mother passed away the same day. At least that's what he had told you.

The two of you bonded over the little things, told each other stories about your life at home. Reminisced about what it was you missed.

Then it all came crashing down the day Zeke confessed. The day he told you he killed his mother and father by handing them over to Marley. Your knees buckled underneath you, crashing the floor he tried to grab at you but you thrashed around in retaliation kicking and screaming not understanding why he did what he did. Yes, they were traitors but they were his parents and if the monster had the nerve to turn on the people who gave birth to him who's to say he wouldn't do the same to you or to Marley.

Zeke doesn't know it but ever since then you take the opportunity to sneak the occasional glance at him. Every single time you narrow your eyes in malice. If there's a man in Liberio who you don't trust in the slightest it's him, he must think the feud between the two of you from childhood has been put at rest but it hasn't.

Zeke takes another swig of his alcohol. On this occasion he downs it entirely slamming the glass down with vigour.

"ONE MORE GLASS BARTENDER!"

846, i.

Another day of extensive training is about to end, your back is layered in uncomfortable layers of sweat and the same can be said for your forehead. Kneeling down in the under layer of the forest you're hidden waiting to strike. Going up against the elites is nerve-wracking but you're sure you can pull it off so long as you stay calm during this game of hunters against prey.

It's simple enough if you can conceal yourself and stay out of sight. The robust trees that surround you act as decent enough camouflage and your green cape paired with them lets you veil yourself, keeping you further into the foreground, blending into the environment.

No one will be able to catch you if they can't see you.

All of a sudden your previous thoughts are thrown away when you sense something in the atmosphere has changed, the hissing of the wind behind you isn't natural.

Turning to your side you don't bother to cover up the sound of leaves rustling and branches cracking, your priority is slipping away fast enough to hide again, a tug can be felt at your cloak and your reaction time barely covers for you, your gear fastens itself to a low enough tree branch and the descent is mind numbing. Your breakfast churns in your stomach but you ignore the uneasy feeling, leaping and diving wherever you find a small enough gap. You believe you can outrun your huntsman.

That is until you sneak a glance back and your muscles nearly tense up in pure astonishment, you've been kicked in the teeth just by the man's presence. Captain, Levi slinks behind you weaving through the gaps with increasing speed, he's gaining momentum and all the while his face stays relaxed, this isn't even his full effort.

Terrified you dart upwards and then left, a corner comes into view - Levi should assume you've turned into it and so you rashly choose to dart back down. Much to your hard luck you find that his senses are well adapted, the direction of the wind is enough for him to trace your whereabouts.

The pursuit resumes, and he stays disturbingly relentless.

Arm shooting to the right you think perhaps making it look like you're aiming to fly somewhere else again will completely catch him off guard, he can't expect for you to pull the same trick twice.

Setting your plan into motion your finger pulls at the trigger but you startle when the cable doesn't come out, it's jammed. Panic seeps into you and to make matters worse your gas is running out.

Without warning you're thrust into the body of a nearby tree, the bark scrapes against you and scratches begin to form anywhere you've made contact with the jagged surface, you want to admit defeat but the warrior inside of you denies Levi the pleasure of seeing you beg. In its place you deliver a harsh kick to his thigh, you're aware he's injured it and you're certain there are no rules to say you can't play dirty. Your boots hammer against leg hard enough for him to give out and let go of your body, but then you realize you lost this game from the very moment your grapple hooks broke, you have nowhere to hold onto.

Before you can even let out a shriek of horror Levi's shot back to you, he frantically accelerates and by a miracle humanity's strongest is able to grab a hold of you again. This time you don't dig your heels into his leg and you allow for him to clutch you by the torso.

Within a minute the two of you descend towards the forest floor and Levi throws you into the dirt furiously.

"You could have died. Being foolhardy will only lead to an early death." He barks as he directs his blade towards your neck.

"Am I dead yet?" Whispering back your gaze isn't trained on the blade but right up at him.

His nostrils flare up, his hair sticks to his forehead haphazardly and the knuckles that hold his pointed blades are white in tangled dissatisfaction.

Grabbing you by the hips he flings you over his shoulder choosing to not continue with the confrontation.

"I know what you're up to." His voice is still rugged from the pursuit and it takes you a split second to register what he's said.

Your eyes widen and your breath hitches in your throat, no way, there's no way in hell he knows. He's sharp but he's not a mind reader.

Your position means he can't read your face seeing as you're facing his back, instantly steeling your features you let out a breathy laugh.

"And what may that be?" Silently you pray he's worded himself ambiguously to catch a slip up.

"Being gutsy, you think that makes you a good soldier. It doesn't."

Relief floods you. He doesn't know.

"Soldiers need to be brave." Your retort makes him grumble.

"If  you die with no meaning by being reckless what's the purpose of being a soldier?" His question has you stopping and thinking on what the correct answer is.

Unable to think of an answer you ask another question.

"Are you saying your previous comrades died without meaning?"

"No. Their deaths fueled me slay more titans."

"So if I died back there who wou-" He swiftly cuts you off showing no inclination of wanting to hear what it is you have to say.

"I'll cut your tongue off if it's stupid." He clearly isn't serious about the threat but he does mean it when he warns you to not overstep.

Despite the consequences you say what's on your mind. "I just wanted to ask who would give my life meaning if I ever died. I don't have siblings and my parents died long ago."

Silence follows and the crunch of his boots against the muddy leaves tells you he probably doesn't wish to answer your question.

"Sorry-"

"I would. I would give meaning to your life." He says it with such ease you almost want to admire the enemy but you know he's said it because he feels he has to.

"You barely know me but I hope one day you can stop thinking everyone has to rely on you." You say it with taunting understanding.

Another bout of silence follows. Only this time the two of you feel warmly comforted, he doesn't understand how you've seen through his facade but it's easy for you to spot another liar.

846, ii.

Brows drawn back you observe your surroundings attempting to mask your scrutiny. The place is running amok with uncontrollable Eldian folk. The stench of unadulterated sin makes itself known but you seem to be the only person able to smell it. Eren bumps against the table you're sat at and your face twitches a little but you say nothing. You're yet to get used to these people's lack of manners.

At least that's how you force yourself to think. To be truthful, you don't quite understand what it is these people have done wrong. Ever since you've arrived you've been nitpicking at every single minor inconvenience or possible issue. A girl stole a potato and broke it into uneven pieces to share and you attempted to twist the story in your head to make her look like an unfair, greedy voracious demon but... you found yourself finding very little to actually be angry at. These people are essentially normal in every way of the word, they aren't demons and you can't help but feel yourself slip away from everything you once knew as reality. You're finding it difficult to believe what years of Marleyan education taught you, the hymns that were once drilled into your brain permanently are but a vague memory.

You feel disgustingly under-dressed and out of place, you don't belong here not when you're meant to hate these people, not when you're meant to despise them. You should be fighting the urge to shove their heads onto pitchforks or to skin them alive and feed them to pigs. Everyone back in Marley told you to control your impulses but now you're here and you've settled down even having the opportunity to converse with these individuals, share their pain, share their loss, share their suffering, you wonder why you have no impulses to control. Have they brainwashed you? Or is it that you're the real demon in this situation?

Fingers mingling with each other on your lap you sit hopelessly alone. Interacting with the so called enemy is much harder than you expect. Worry consistently bubbles in the pit of your stomach and every night is spent tossing and turning evaluating then reevaluating who the bad guy really is. At first the task of daily interaction isn't a big deal, you find it easy enough to approach members of the team and fake interest in their lives until the original plan falls through. You do become invested in your team members lives and stories that it comes to the point where you don't have to force yourself to smile at their jokes or to sympathize with their tales of grief. You become one of them and you swear you're meant to feel like a traitor but eerily you feel like you belong.

Nevertheless you try your best to stick with what you know. You're nothing like Zeke, you're loyal, capable, faithful and trustworthy. Never will you turn your back on Marley.

Rising to excuse yourself from dinner you think you've just about made it and escaped finally able to hide away in the confines of your bedroom but your lips form into a straight uncomfortable line at the feeling of someone's hand latching at your wrist. You're halfway down the hallway just a few more steps away from your bedroom. You hope it's one of the rookies.

"Oi, come here."

Head shooting backwards your eyes land on Levi, his dark curtains fall in front of his eyes - you note that he hasn't trimmed them as he usually does. Despite his size his grip is firm and your wrist squirms around a little trying to manoeuvre out of his bruising grasp. He seems to notice he's underestimated his strength once again and loosens his hold on you. Narrowed eyes analyse your anxious form, they're grey and in this lighting almost glow appearing silver. For a brief second your mouth is left ajar by the delicate but rough manner of his face.

"Everything Okay?" He doesn't typically seem to care very much about anyone, the question activates your senses and you're on full alert but the eye contact you make with him seconds later slows down the gears in your mind, they only whir and hum in anticipation completely coming to a halt.

"Yes, yes everything is okay." You're playing around with the hem of your shirt and you silently question when you were ever this nervous around anyone. You're a Marleyan soldier for heaven's sake not an unrestrained, unsupervised child left to play in a park.

Despite your clear inability to cushion and shield yourself from your Levi's stabbing gaze you attempt to appear as nonchalant as possible.

"I'll be going I just feel a little —" At first you had thought to fake you were ill but at the feeling of a sudden strike of pain you hold onto your stomach, the ache burns into your abdomen and without permission it travels higher up towards your ribs. "A little unwell." You manage to wheeze out. Hand placed onto a nearby cement wall your thought process is hasty speeding up by the second. Have they figured you out and had you poisoned? No, you barely ate anything today.

You hunch over feeling the bile crawl up your throat, on reflex you clamp your eyes shut not wishing to anger a superior by acting insolent and disposing of your dinner in the hallway. Shaky palms reach hesitantly for your lips and you force yourself to keep it in. Levi would commit a murder if you heaved and gagged letting it all out in front of him.

You motion towards the door trying to emphasize that you can handle yourself in the privacy of your room. Tears bite at the sides of your eyes and your vision is so blurred you can only make out the faint outline of the man who was just in front of you.

"Relax. I'll clean it." Your hair is brushed away from your face securely held back and you can't hold it in any longer, the acrid storm surges through your throat, you retch at the harsh sting it leaves behind. Breathing heavy, perturbed and anxious you gasp in all the air you can get.

"I knew you looked ill." His hands hold your jaw gently, the pads of his fingers are calloused but his touch remains soft. A tissue dabs at your mouth wiping away the excess untouched sick.

Just like the sick which surged through you less than a minute ago you feel something else entirely tear into you. You can't put a finger on it but it's dangerous for you to not feel contempt.

847, i.

Your heart accepts what your mind has been ignoring for months on end when Levi looks you square in the eyes after a heart wrenching expedition. The vacant look on his face is enough for the guilt to consume you whole but he doesn't know that. He doesn't know of your sins.

The wagon of corpses reeks of death and desperation. It's rotten and the smell is sickening. Forcibly you  stop yourself from feeling any more grief. The despair isn't yours to go through.

Your first ever personal loss outside of the walls and you've learnt Paradis is not home to demons. Cheeks burning in mortification you can't formulate any thoughts on your own accord, instead they continuously emerge in bursts and finally a single thought sticks out from the rest - Are you aiding in the destruction of innocent human life?

The both of you are sat on guard duty with the corpses, half of the team has been wiped out in one sweep. Your trembling hands don't seem to want to steady any time soon and you sit there with your guilty conscience strangling you slowly, your airflow is getting shallower. Shorter, quicker breaths leave you. The imaginary gash in your chest is bottomless, and your lungs push and pull in a power struggle.

Levi's coarse hands abruptly hold onto yours and the floodgates open again, he doesn't know what you've done to him, done to his soldiers, done to his people. If he knew who you really were, would things be different?

"This was out of your control."

Do you tell him?

The question sits in your mind for a while until you shake your head. He takes it the wrong way and think you're responding to him.

"This was not your fault." For the first time in months you've heard his voice crack under pressure.

"Pe- Petra she- I could have taken one for the team and died instead of her." All that remains of your dear friend is her blood soaked cloak. Her body was one of the few that had to be hauled away earlier to decrease the carriage's load.

The fabric still smells of Petra, smells of honey and chamomile and the simple soap offered at the base, but it still smells of her.

Firm hands grab your shoulders and Levi's fingers dig sorely into your flesh.

"Don't."

"But I- I didn't contribute as much as her and she has family who are alive." Hiccuping you try to bare with the fact that you'll wake up tomorrow and not see her preparing breakfast for everyone else. You know you could have propelled her out of the way just in time if you hadn't been so taken aback by the entire situation.

"You were her comrade. She made the choice to die for you."

You want to reach out, sob into his chest and yell that you regret it all, scream and tell him about the secret you've been hiding. A sorry excuse of a comrade you are to let her die on the battlefield not knowing your true identity. The tears roll down your cheeks and Levi feels his heart constrict and squeeze as he comprehends the lack of regard you have for your life. "It should have been me." Is repeated over and over again, your eyes are raw and bloodshot, the vicious wind sinks its teeth into you.

"Then die."

"If you're willing for her life to have no meaning. Die." The words he spits out are as cutting as the bitter wind. He feels cheated and you're finally able to come to your senses.

He's faired much worse but you doubt he's ever acted out the way you have in front of another person. In this never-ending void of darkness locking away the dull ache caused by deafening loss is the best choice for everyone.

Much like the night you had been sick he takes a grip of your jaw and directs your face towards his, this time he's not as gentle as before but you conclude that it's because he's drained, completely exhausted from the battle. The eyes are the windows to the soul but Levi's window panes are shattered, completely crushed by the weight of the constant burden he has to carry.

"I'm sorry." You croak out the apology. He grits his teeth because he doesn't want you to apologize but he doesn't voice out his opinion. As a substitute he presses his arms against you, the terribly raw panic is murdering you. Levi's gruff voice is a mixture of faux irritation but mutual understanding.

"Cry." He allows for your head to loll against his shoulder.

As the dark envelopes both you and him the scent of the dead only becomes more and more pungent, recalling fond memories of Petra and the others you know your heart settles on a decision before your mind does. You're a two timing back stabbing traitor for this. What you hated Zeke for you have become yourself.

Disloyal, unfaithful and fickle.

That day you place your loyalties with Paradis.

847, ii.

Levi's wiping down one of the kitchen tables, you're kneeled on the floor scrubbing vigorously. The others have already given up, panting they've left using the excuse of fetching water from a nearby well. Your back aches but you find cleaning reassuring and somewhat of a decent distraction.

"Why do you like to clean?" You're used to Levi asking you abrupt questions by now, after all the two of you have been acquainted for well over a year now. Through that year he's learnt about you and you about him. When in the midst of what looks to be humanity's final year's, twelve simple months is enough to form a bond worth a decade.

"I'm not good at a lot but I am good at cleaning."

"You know that's not true idiot." The tone of his voice indicates that your answer doesn't please him.

"But I do think I'm good at cleaning? Maybe not as good as you but I am half decent."

"Not that. You're good at much more than half the people I've ever met." He sneers, his footsteps edge towards you. "Purely being a good person is a talent these days."

You suppress a flinch because you aren't a good person at all. Neither are you that middle ground between good and bad. Rough around the edges and uneven, you're shards of glass ready to slash and hack away at him if Marley somehow lures you back.

The confession, if you could even call it that catches you by surprise and anger fills you. You almost want for him to not trust you and call out your bluff. It's a little unnatural how badly you want for him to realize the truth.

Your head turns up to stare at the man who's a few steps away from you. "Or am I just good at acting genuine?"

You don't even mean to snap at him and you don't even realize you have until you see his eyes widen and mouth part in imperceptible surprise. Biting your tongue your attention is diverted back to the wooden floor. Driving your washcloth into the crevices and dips of the floorboards you ignore Levi's leather shoes which now stand right in front of you.

"Are you questioning my judgement of character?"

Be born in Marley, That's what you had done, trained to destroy people you thought to be devilish entities, foolishly chose to grow attached to the so called enemy. Your mind lingers onto a specific thought and you're deathly afraid to be thinking it in the first place but there's no more avoiding it.

Falling deeply in love with Levi is your worst mistake to date.

"What I did. It was out of my control." you reply, voice hard.

"Not disclosing what it was?" He asks.

Your silence is his answer. Kneeling down to where you are he disarms you, the washcloth is taken out of your hands and he places it onto a table.

"You are a good person." His voice is brusque and he states it like it's a fact, something you should know. Hot tears threaten to spill over, he's stupidly naive for not rethinking that opinion of his. Lips thinned and eyes watering you don't know how to feel.

"Levi. I'm sure you'd like to think that but I am not."

"You love the members of the corps unconditionally I can see it in the way you look at them."

"Sometimes you look a little sad when you stare." The last sentence he adds in has your pulse racing. He's right, you often feel miserable thinking about how everyone would react knowing who you really are.

"I'm not interested in bad people." He sounds distant saying such warm words and it takes a moment for them to actually sink in. You don't quite believe you've heard him correctly. The dread sinks to the bottom of your stomach and the feelings you've buried at the back of your mind hit you like a tsunami. The thought of him feeling the same way for you, is agonizing.

"Stop being ridiculous." The uncertainty is killing the both of you.

"Loving you is not ridiculous, if you don't feel the same way you can say that and I'll step away. We'll be back to normal."

"No, no, no. You don't get it. You're just saying that." Your voice quivers and the intensity of this new revelation is too large for you to cope with.

"Why would, you," He begins, voice just above a whisper, "ever think that way?"

"Why would you even look twice at me?" You reply.

"Because I worry for you."

"You worry for everyone."

"I worry for you the most."

Instead of letting you respond to him this time he carries on speaking.

"We both know we feel the same."

You already knew you were in love with Levi, you didn’t need for him to tell you. You knew you were in love when you tried to memorize his facial features, you knew you were in love when his laughter was the cause of your laughter, you knew you were in love when you threw yourself in front of that abnormal for him.

That's when you begin to understand what all his signals meant. You now knew why he'd let you stare so intently, you now knew why he laughed particularly hard when it was you who had made a joke, you now knew why he scolded you and nearly broke down at the sight of your injured arm after that specific expedition.

You know it. He knows it. You both know what this will lead to.

But you still lunge onto his lap, you still press your wobbly lips against his. You still choose to surrender yourself to him and he still reacts by taking a hold of your shaky hands which lay on his chest. He envelopes them in his warm grasp. Slowly but gradually the ice thaws and dissolves. Heartbreak, anguish and suffering when one of you loses the other will be the end of your romance, you're sure of it. Hell, the both of you are in the middle of a war but your heart flames up thinking of all of the possibilities.

Perhaps it'll play out the one way you wish for it not to.

Could your ending be in betrayal?

848, i.

"Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded hus-"

"Cut the crap and kiss me." Levi's crude interruption isn't appreciated by Erwin but everyone knows Levi doesn't care all that much for formalities and hates being in the spotlight for too long.

Gripping him by the collar of his suit your lips are a centimetre away, he stops you tightening the hold he has on your waist. His lips gently press against your collarbone and his breath meanders towards the shell of your ear.

"Swear you won't die on me."

Gulping you look away apprehensively. You know you can't promise that.

“Oi, I’m expecting an answer.” His voice flickers slightly.

Forefinger holding your chin up you see your soon to be husband close to tears, he valiantly blinks them away. Levi has never been one to make his pain public and your heart twists in your chest as you realize just how much of a hold his feelings for you have over him.

"I can't promise that, you know it'll only hurt more." The strange bitter taste in your mouth won't let you comply with his request and by measuring his reaction you see his eyes cloud in an unidentifiable emotion, you're sure it's nothing positive.

"We may not have a happy ending Levi but we'll always have a happy middle."

Levi scoffs in derision, he has to think your attempt at being meaningful is ridiculous.

You lean into him and it's all so heart-wrenchingly familiar yet foreign. His body sags comprehending that not everything will go the way he wants it to. One of you is guaranteed to leave first.

Hands finding purchase in the cloth of his white dress shirt Levi doesn't cringe at you creasing the fabric as he usually does. He allows for you to call the shots this time, your lips brush faintly against his before you nosedive into him. No resistance is felt and he replies almost immediately. Everyone applauds as his fingertips press into the back of your skull and you find that this is all incredibly hideous. The innate disloyalty you feel, you throwing your entire life away for this man but you find yourself not caring. To hell with that miserable life crammed with sin.

Levi smiles against your mouth, you assume you're meant to magically smile back but you can't make yourself. It's uncomfortable relishing in the undeserved happiness knowing it won't last forever.

The world you live in isn't ideal nor is it forgiving.

Momentary joy is all an antagonist can hope for.

849, i.

Jean can’t take his eyes off the newly weds.

You’re cooing into your Levi’s ear gently, his cheeks flush scarlet at the feeling of your hot breath against his skin and he scolds you for having the gall to rile him up in public.

Jean sniggers finding some sort of odd delight from the interaction - he’s never seen the Captain this content and at ease.

849, ii.

You don't know why you've dragged yourself out of bed just to stare at your husband's face but you have, despite the toll life has had on him he seems sound for once. His breathing peaceful yours is anything but that. When it's dark the weight becomes heavier, your skin tingles and your throat burns aching for release.

Eyes blurring your hands shake reaching out for him but you can't find the courage to make contact. Nothing will ever warrant plaguing him even more with your existence.

The memories become increasingly bitter.

"If we make it out of this alive we'll have children and they'll look just like you."

"I want them to look like you." had been your reply.

Levi winced not seeming to like the idea.

"No, I want them to look like you. You're beautiful."

How wrong he was for thinking that.

You, beautiful? He'd stab himself ten times over if he knew just who exactly he had said those words to.

850, i.

Zeke had betrayed you after finding out who you were to Levi but you half expected that he would tell him the truth at some point regardless of that fact.

Tear stains travel through the mud and grime on your face, Levi's eyes are indifferent as he twists his wedding ring off his finger flinging it into the surrounding rubble.

Without your permission he yanks your arm forwards intending to take your matching ring away but you hold on digging your heels into the dirt beneath you.

"You disgusting bitch. Give me it."

You scream, high and awful, he continues jerking at your arm the muscle throbs crying out for him to stop but he doesn't and no one steps in to put a halt to any of it. Levi having had enough grabs at your neck ruthlessly. In any other circumstance he'd be labelled callous or cruel but everyone on the battle field shares a similar empathy for their Captain. Neither they or Levi had expected your disloyalty.

"I said give me the ring if you know what's good for you." His fingers slide around your neck, his seemingly low words cling onto the little respect he has left for you.

"No." Your defiance has his eyes hardening in and posture tensing. "I'm not handing it over."

Levi says nothing, he only holds onto your throat tighter, if he really keeps at  it your windpipe will be crushed in no time. You know he's holding out on purpose, he's still giving you a chance. He expects for you to stand your ground, say you never deceived Paradis, say something, anything to make him let go of you.  

"Marrying you... It just happened somehow. I know it was selfish of me." He squeezes harder. "I know it was. I'm sorry Levi." Gasping and breathless you clench and unclench your fists finding it too difficult to explain.

Your mouth opens, you want to tell him you haven't seduced him like he thinks you have, tell him you dropped that plan of yours long ago but then you falter at the last second.  It's typically hard to tell when Erwin's infuriated but it's painfully obvious when you make eye contact with him over Levi's trembling shoulders. It's enough to tell you to give up. Enough to tell you that you're beyond redemption, you've ran and hid long enough.

"Hand over your titan." Levi says nothing to Erwin's proposition, the hold he has on your neck loosens but his silence is sickening. It means he agrees.

This is fate's idea of a cruel joke.

But you agree, on the basis of one condition.

"Fine but-"

Levi cuts in, all regard for you devoid from his system.

"You're in no place to be making demands." He snarls, his patience quickly running thin.

However Erwin urges you to continue speaking taking you aback.

"If it's not too much maybe we can accommodate your final wish." Erwin had always been thoughtful in nature and you thank him for even bothering to show you a sliver of benevolence.

Everyone's looking, all eyes are on you. Some are blinking away tears, others are disgusted unable to stare at you for more than a few seconds at a time. Levi falls into the latter.

Brazen with not an ounce of shame you mention the ring again. "Let me keep it." Your left hand covers your right and underneath the flesh is the last symbol left of your union with Levi.

Whispers and murmurs orbit you, none of them are kind and Levi loses it.

His reflexes are paralyzing, he's back at it clawing your neck mercilessly but you don't scream or shriek as you did previously. You take it, you let him unload his frustration.

"Levi. Let it go for the sake of humanity." Erwin says pointedly. Irritation pricks him, he wants this over and done with and your rebelliousness doesn't look as if it'll be tamed any time soon unless you're given what you want.

Levi's face is crimson, the fresh blood from the expedition still steaming. "Y/N, I'll saw your arm off if I have to." But, you know he's already given into Erwin's orders when he throws you to the ground letting you crash and wheeze for breath.

850, ii.

Levi's been appointed to guard you for your final night alive. The room feels wistful as you think back wondering if the life you lived was respectable.

"Why did you stare at me when I slept? Did you think of killing me?" Half commanding and half pleading his voice cracks. He coughs attempting to cover it up.

You jolt not expecting the interaction at all and you're not the slightest bit surprised that he had seen you all those nights staring so deeply. He'd always been a light sleeper. You turn your head up hoping he's looking at you.

He isn't.

"I wanted our children to look like you. I think you're beautiful."

It's now his turn to recoil, only he does so in repulsion remembering the familiarity of those words. They had left his own lips not too long ago.

"I'd never have children with the likes of you." He sounds tense then.

You understand. No one would want to have children with someone as hated and as despicable as you.

"I know." You whisper faintly.

850, iii.

When Erwin's eyes glaze over unable to focus on anything in particular Levi assumes it's him growing used to the titan powers. What he doesn't expect is for his Commander to bang his head against the floor unrelenting screaming your name.

Pairs of hands move to stop him but he thrusts them aside wailing. Levi stresses trying to figure out what it is you could have done in the wake of your death.

But Erwin Smith. Courageous, brave Erwin Smith, who never cracked at loss of life for the sake of humanity, who always eloquently spoke to everyone around him at all times, finds himself slumping down to his knees and weeping for you.

The warm blood from his self inflicted assault still trickles down his nose, a tremor shakes through his entire body when he thinks of breaking the news to Levi.

The edge in Erwin’s voice grows dangerous.

"We made the wrong choice."

Erwin can't word it any better than that.

But Levi understands right away, he wishes he didn’t, he wishes he was ignorant enough not to.

Hange sticks an arm out aiming for his shoulder but he stumbles away nearly falling back into the floor not wanting to be touched by anyone.

He finds that he is not human enough to cry. It’s that or he’s not human at all without your presence.

854, i.

Levi has grown old without you, lived to see months and new seasons without you by his side. Over time his eyelids have become heavier, the corners of his mouth naturally droop and he remains perpetually somber.

Sometimes you visit him in his dreams, each time you make a silly comment about how his grey eye bags make him look like he’s been punched in the face. “Levi Ackerman, I swear if you don’t sleep soon!” You cushion the blow by whispering sweet nothings, reassuring him that you still think he’s beautiful. 

Occasionally you add in that you don’t blame him for the past, but those conversations only last for a few seconds at a time.

“I don’t blame you.” It always starts off with the exact same phrase. 

“I should have listened to you.” Levi’s tone is stern and uncompromising .

“Lev, I was never going to tell you to spare my life. You tried to listen to me, I could tell you wanted me to deny it.”

Levi refuses to answer you, he still thinks he’s at fault.

Not a day goes by where he doesn’t think of that ring. He regrets throwing it away recklessly into the rubble.

Some day he’ll return to Shiganshina to find it. The idea sounds laughable but he has to find a reason to smile as he fights for his life.

That is what Levi thinks as two set’s of jaws snap shut onto his legs, a flurry of red surrounds him. His throat constricts at the feeling of his thighs being ripped away from the rest of him.

“I tried.” He whimpers to no one in particular, eyes blank and losing meaning.

“I know Levi, I know.” The same voice from his dreams soothes him.

“Do not despair. Find me again in another world.” The biting wind adds in.

Levi’s eyelids flutter shut unable to do much else.

He’s unsure if he has the courage to face you again in another lifetime.

[starshipsofstarlord]

Could I request a Bucky Barnes x reader smut? Basically she and Bucky have been together for some time and maybe it’d be a little angst where the two are talking about the future and Bucky not thinking he can ever have a normal future? Which would result in soft smut and later reader being revealed as pregnant so Bucky finally gets his family

I’m Home

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary | based on the request ^^

Warnings | angst, smut, oral sex (m receiving), fluff, pregnancy, mentions of death

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

The Wilson’s boat rocked sturdily upon the water, swaying as the boats worked aboard. Your hand held the weight of a silver spanner, twirling it in your fist as though it were a knife, thinking of the long road ahead of you. Sam had the shield now, that was a good start, but still, there was a ways to go until the world recognised him as the captain that he was meant to be.

There was so much destruction ongoing in the world, what with the flag smashers, and whomever the power broker was, and surely, you knew on the shallow surface, that there would be masses more problems to arise. It was exhausting, to know that there was no end to the war on earth, and that you were surely going to be fighting the threats until you could no more.

Bucky felt the same; he had just gone from one war to another, losing everyone that he cared about along the way. Steve had given everything up to finally find peace, and yet, the two did not share the same opportunity. An escape was never laid at your feet, instead, the pair of you were trapped in the cycle of cruelty, being blended around in a shredder by reality.

“Hey.” A voice confiscated you from the lonesome containment of your thoughts; it was Sam’s hosting sister, Sarah. I’m her own way, though you doubted that she would never admit such a thing, she was a hero. She had become a widow, and not to mention she remained a stable mother to keep her boys afloat, as well as nurturing half the kids that lived within close proximity.

“Hi Sarah.” You put the tool down, giving her your ample attention as you stood, tugging your fingers into the loops of your jeans as you stepped out of the boat, and onto the dock. “Anything I can help with?” It hadn’t passed your attention that Sam and Bucky had disappeared, but not into ash like last time. Instead, they had walked off in the direction of the house, most likely meddling about with a ball, in the back yard with Jim and Jody.

“I just came to let you know I’ve made the sofa up for you and Bucky. Are you sure you’ll be all good, I could always kick Sam outta his bed and make him sleep on the living room floor?” The two of you had nightmares, if you were to be separated from him for even a night, it was certain that the pair of you would greatly suffer. That was something you didn’t want to burden any of the Wilson’s with, screaming in the middle of the night because flashes from your past struck an unconscious nerve.

“All good, and thank you Sarah. You didn’t have to let us stay here, we both appreciate it, a hell of a lot.” One thing that you had learnt throughout your years was to show gratitude. The smallest amount shared had the ability to spring up moods, and had even set you on a much more heroic path than the one that you had been originally been placed upon.

“You’ve earned your stay.” Sam’s sister shrugged with modesty, acknowledging the help that you and Bucky had not only given to Sam, but to her family’s legacy. The two of you had aided with fixing the old wreckage that had now returned to the form of a boat, keeping it afloat rather than permitting it to sink from the quarrels that Sam had with himself regarding fixing the damned yet meaningful port of transport.

“This life you have, it’s great. I get it’s not easy, but it’s beautiful. You have two wonderful kids, that you’ve done such a great job raising, and not to mention, these community that you have is so loving and kind, even to us outsiders.” The pair of you had paused outside of her front door, speaking. “Sam is lucky to have you, he truly is.”

“Well, maybe one day this life could be something similar to what you’ll have.” The sister of your friend smiled, though your mirroring expression retracted. In a stumble of thought, you shook your head, not believing that possibility. This all was... perfect. That was something that you had never had, nor would you think that you’d ever be permitted such a peaceful lifestyle.

“I don’t think that would work out.” You sincerely mumbled, feeling the sad swelling in your chest at the prospect of all the luxuries that life had denied both you and Bucky of. It wasn’t fair all the same, but the two of you were used to being denied human rights, let alone the simplicity of nothing more than a life together. “As nice as it sounds, me and Buck aren’t really cut out for all this I suppose.”

“The world does not choose who can and cannot have a family, there’s always a way. Just because you haven’t had the most ideal line of story does not at all mean that you can’t make it work, from as much as i know, you two deserve a life together, that doesn’t include being shot at, or shooting at other people. Sometimes, you’ve just gotta go for it, and hope for the best.” She gave you a final nod, before heading inside, and you trailed after her into her her residency.

The two of you went your separate ways, and there, you saw Bucky, sat up on the sofa, his hands clasped together as his eyes stared towards the tan bag, that concealed not the shape, but the Stars and Stripes of the infamous shield. It was much a relief that it was no longer in Walker’s toxic clutch, however its presence, among other things, were taking a clear toll on your boyfriend.

“You ever feel like we’re stuck?” The air was tense around you both as he spoke solemnly, it diverting to match the mood of his question. “Like we’re us, and I love us, but it makes me think that it’s it. Just me and you, on this path for the rest of our lives, never getting a compensated break, nor an average person’s future. I want this, what these people here have, not the combat that is aided by this metal arm, or the associations that stick to us like life lines.”

“All the time, it’s on my mind James.” With a sigh, you came to sit beside him on the couch, resting your head against his bionic shoulder. “I ever wonder if there’s a timeline of you and me where there’s none of this ruckus, we just have a nice little house in a quiet and accepting place, and maybe a kid or two in the future.”

“I’d give anything up for that.” He looked at you, almost wide eyed, as his hand slithered down onto your knee cap, rubbing small circles as he wore a blunt and endearing smile upon his infatuating lips. “I mean that Buck, that sounds...”

“Perfect?” He asked, leaning closer as he grabs your chin with his wondrous fingers, his nose brushing alongside your own as his puckered lips fell upon yours, earning a small hun of content from within you. “Because you’re perfect to me, and no matter what life we are encased in, I want to share it with you. I want stare at the night sky and watch the moonlight illuminate the side of your face, and the stars reflect in your entrapping eyes, that I want to look into like a medium’s orbs forever, because that is how I will see the future that I ever so hope for.”

“How long have you been working on that one Barnes, because you are usually not that smooth?” A small laugh erupted from your mouth, but you were quickly silenced as you felt a cold metal hand slither up and beneath the back of your tank top, rubbing along the seam of your spine, as his lips ran down the column of your throat, evoking small and delicate whimpers out of you.

“Shut up doll, because I really want to fuck you now, and those words leaving your mouth are making it kinda hard to concentrate.” A furrow imbedded between his brows, as you tilted your head at him, a smirk proclaiming your expression as you pulled the material over your head, and reached behind yourself to unclip the back of your bra.

“Kinda hard to concentrate, hun?” You asked nonchalantly as his gaze zeroed in on your bare breasts, his hands smoothing along your ribcage as he adjusted his grip of you so that he was palming at your breasts, and squeezing the nipples. “I want you in me baby, I’ve practically gone days without you inside of me.” Licking your lips, you reached down to palm your beloved through his layers, earning a positive groan from the former assassin.

“Hours, you mean. I fingered you on the road trip here.” Yes, that was true, however, it was only his fingers, not even the metal ones, and whilst you loved what they alone could do, he had to be discreet as you were sat on the back of the truck, which had carried the primary parts for the Wilson’s family boat. If you were to scream out, they’d have surely thought that you’d fallen off the back of the truck and pull over, or if they had much sense, they’d have noticed that there was more going on than two passengers sat side by side on the journey to their small neighbourhood by the docks,

“You heard me Barnes, otherwise I’m sure Sam wouldn’t have any problem if I came to his room in this state of undress that I am currently portraying.” Growling was never Bucky’s fortes, however the sound aggressively ripped through the tunnel of his throat, as he threw off his grey top, quickly unfastening his belt, as he awaited for you to strip the rest of your clothing before him.

But rather than doing so, as he stood before you, your hand had trouble resisting the sight of his cock that had bobbed to attention, and thus, you wrapped it around his toned flesh, giving it a couple jerks that had his head reeling back, before you tongued his tip, moaning to yourself at the taste of him invading your sensitive taste buds. “Love your cock.”

As soon as you said that, Bucky gently gathered your head in a ponytail so that it was free from bombarding your face, and groaned as quiet as he could as you sucked him in your mouth, running your tongue up the side of his shaft. “Is that a part of your dream world baby doll, the sight of my cock throbbing to be inching down that perfect little throat of yours?”

To answer him, you pressed your head down deeper, humming around him as your eyes ogled up at the sight of your super soldier, who was trying his hardest to keep his eyes open, and attuned to the sight of you. He held his bottom lip between his teeth, as you lightly gagged around him, pulling off him, and squeezing his balls, before running your hungry tongue along the middle of his sack.

“Always. It would be a dream if you made love to me right here and now though, I’m not sure I can wait any longer James.” Bucky took a long inhale, before ravishingly pulling down your jeans and panties in one go, and tossing you so that he was below your form, and you hovered over him, toying with his erect cock. “I love you so much Bucky, and I’m scared of what’s to come. I have a feeling that there’s gonna be a fight.”

“There’s always a fight doll face.” He rubbed his thumb soothingly across your jaw, pulling your hips down closer so that you were rubbing your slick folds against his standing cock. “But this is what we’re fighting for, the rest of our lives together. I’d be damned, one day after this, and if I were to die, I’d be a happy man. There’d be the memory of you to keep me forever happy in the afterlife, and not to mention, there’d be no more wars for me to participate in.”

“I’m not going to let you die Buck, even hypothetically. We saw how your little hypothetical synopsis went last time.” Tapping his cock against your clit, a breathy sound evicted from your lips, as you stared down at the two of you intimately touching, the sight alone making you more turned on and impatient. “No one is allowed to kill you, otherwise I’ll unleash hell on all their flag smashing asses.”

Giving him one last stroke, you guided his tip towards your entrance, removing your hand once you had him situated, so that you could rest it upon his sturdy shoulder, and sink down on him, the feeling of him stretching you being the most euphoric sensation that you had ever endured. Hushed moans ceased from the both of you, as Bucky’s hands gripped your ass cheeks, only adding to all of the pleasure that was erupting within you.

“Think your pussy is gonna kill me before anyone else does; your so tight.” His pitch had rose, as your fingertips danced along the left side of his handsome face, invisibly connecting the dots of his beauty marks. You allowed the pair of you to adjust for a simple moment, before you began to raise your hips, sliding up his super soldier rod, only to slide down it again.

The actions were repeated, as your own hands trailed down his warm skin, to drag down the golden lines of his vibranium arm, only to bring the weapon to your mouth, and kiss every black finger up, as you tried your best to muffle the moans that were hoping to reap free. “So fucking big, I love you and your cock.” You muttered, your sight turning blurry as Bucky realised that it was his turn to do the work, and thus, he thrusted up into you, making echoing sounds of your skin slapping together reverberate around the room.

“Love you more.” He gritted his teeth, pulling his metallic hand away from your numb lips, so that he could swirl the elegant digits around your clit, the action provoking whimpers to rapidly surpass your exterior, as you bit harshly onto your own lip, and screwed your eyes shut. “Cum for me doll, want you to cover my hard cock in everything you have. Come on baby, you can do it.”

Without much thought, as your mind was too scrambled to do so, you reached for Bucky’s spare hand, pulling it to your mouth as you sucked on his fingers as though you were blowing him. A low moan that was dialled down from the presence of his flesh digits, ran from your mouth, as you began to bounce your hips, chasing and eventually reaching your high. You came around him, pushing him too over the edge, his seed filling your walls, as you collapsed atop of him, huffing from exhaustion as you removed his salivated hand from the realms of your mouth, resting your head against his panting chest.

Stringed sighs fell from Bucky’s breath as he tried to catch his own breath. His hands rubbed your back, not only to comfort you, but also to subconsciously pull you closer against him, and his softening cock that was still inside you, and was keeping his cum plugged within your tender and pulsating walls. If life was easier, there’d be more time for this, and that, but for now, it was just every now and then. Maybe you’d win this fight and survive until the next one, but maybe, you’d lose and never battle again.

Life was precious, that was something that you had not only learned as an avenger, but also something that had been told to you by Isiah. That man thought that you deserved a normal life, no fighting, no super soldiers. He himself was the biggest yet silent critic of those with additional strength, but his opinion was never going to sway you, not as you stared out into Sarah’s backyard, and watched the man that you loved play with the boys.

They had the shield, and were whisking it through the air like a frisbee; dangerous, yes, but again, life could only amount to so much without an ounce of pain. A content and satisfied smile absorbed any pain on your face, you were enraptured with the sight of Bucky like this, he was like an uncle to these two kids. He was no captain America, that was for sure, but you didn’t want a man in Stars and Stripes, all you wanted was him to be at peace, and it was a fact unbeknownst to him, that you had made such an alternative to that.

“Still want all this?” Sarah emerged, a cheap yet formidable bottle of wine pursed in her hand, as she held two clear and tall glasses in her hand. You hummed, watching as she poured the thin red consistency into one glass, but as she went to fill the other, you held out your hand, shaking your head. The woman was confused, last time you had visited, and were entangled on her sofa with the limbs of your boyfriend and a shaggy old blanket, you had kindly accepted her offer.

“Sure do.” You sighed, staring out into the green abyss where Jim was hanging from Bucky’s arm like it were a branch. “How do you do this, this whole mother thing? I’ve never been able to wrap my head around how you make it look so easy, it’s just, you do such a good job.” Your palms rested flat on your thighs as you laughed at Sam ordering Jody to jump on Bucky’s back, as he fell down in faux defeat.

“It never is easy y/n.” She placed the open bottle down, along with the mismatched glasses, that were asymmetrical considering one was half filled and the other wallowed in emptiness. “But every step of difficulty is worth it. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t miss their father, but they’re my priority. For Jim and Jody, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do, and you’d understand that if you ever opened yourself up to giving your life of heroism up to have all this.”

“I might have to.” Twiddling with your fingers, glancing up at your boyfriend, realising that he was in fact not looking over, you clasped your intwined hands over your stomach, smiling softly to yourself. “And maybe not having another option is the best option for me and Buck, because we don’t have to fight with ourselves over being included in our duties, we have new ones.”

“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” Sarah asked, resting her nurturing hand upon the tile of your shoulder, prompting you to turn your face towards her. There was a conflict in your eyes, it was something that she recognised her younger self having once worn. It was the idea of putting everything aside, all for a child, everything that she had ever known, so that she could put her baby boy first. “Does Bucky know?”

“He will.” You shifted your head down, unsure of yourself. This had been what you had wanted, and whilst you still envied Sarah for the role she had, you were hurt. A part of you wanted to be an avenger until you were nothing but a soul drifting in the abyss of non existence, another didn’t want to let the knowledge of being a carrier for a new future crumble you. “I just need a moment to tell him.”

“I’ve got it.” She sent you a wink, picking up the items she had brought out, before she called on Sam and the kids to come inside. Sarah had gifted you the opportunity of revealing the truth to your partner with no one else around; you appreciated that. As he stalked closer, you met him halfway, sinking into his arms as he hugged you.

“Looked like you were having fun with the boys.” You verbally noted, loving the feeling of him running his fingers through your hair. “You’re amazing Bucky Barnes, to me and to everyone. I just, don’t want you to freak out on me, I have something big, really big, to tell you, and-“

“Baby, I know.” He smiled, pulling back so that he could look you in the face. “I have super human senses, I heard their little heart beat for the first time yesterday. We’re having a baby, and I couldn’t be happier about it. In fact, I want to ask you if you’ll accept my question of making Sam the godfather.” You nodded, tears standing in your eyes, as you brought the man down for a kiss.

“Yes. But I’m not sure that he’ll be praising us for making a baby when we technically created him or her on the couch inside.” Bucky shook his head at you, kissing your forehead before walking inside with you, preparing to tell the Wilson family, that had along the way became your own, the good news- well, not the sofa bit.

[park-jimin-isnt-real]

“edge of tonight” ~ part nine, the decade

pairing: namjoon x reader (lots of platonic ot7 x reader) rating: T 16+ genre: mafia au, angst this part: Ten years is a long time to go without seeing the one you love. MEGA TW:  ***heavily implied/referenced underage rape/non-con, implied child abuse, implied sexual assault, implied murder, use of the word “whore” several times and “cumdump” once*** Nothing is described in explicit detail, but the topics and themes discussed and mentioned a lot general tw: mafia!au, angst, violence, depression, swearing, guns, high heels used as a weapon, guys this chapter is so sad i'm so sorry, time jumps & pov switching, the use of sex as an unhealthy coping mechanism - again, nothing explicit word count: ~18.8k track #12: Drift ~ Emily Osment: "I am well-suited for erasing, faded into hazy, and sinking strong." the edge of tonight masterlist an: this chapter covers 10 years, so there are a lot of time jumps. pov switches back and forth between m/c and Namjoon. all the listed time jumps are that amount of time from "that night" (the night she was taken), so "Three Months..." from that night; "Six Months..." from that night, and so on.

┈     ┈     ┈     ⋞ ⟨ ⏣ ⟩ ⋟     ┈     ┈     ┈ "And I'm alone now, me and all I stood for." ⋞ ⟨ ⏣ ⟩ ⋟

That night...

Jin drove to Namjoon's faster than he ever had before and cut at least five minutes off the normal drive. The younger called him until Jin finally picked up, about to go off on why he was answering his phone at 3 in the goddamn morning—

"She's gone! Hyung, she's gone! They took her and—and I couldn't—I tried so hard but—Hyung she's gone!"

In all his time knowing Namjoon, Jin had never heard him panic. Namjoon was always calm, always controlled, and even more so when it came to you. Listening to his friend breakdown on the other end of the line was heartbreaking and terrifying.

Jin drove him back to his apartment, ushering the boy into the back room where all his medical supplies were. Thank God his father wanted him to be a doctor. If Jin pursued acting like he wanted to, who knows what would've become of his small group of friends.

"Cry, Namjoon," the eldest told him as he cleaned and bandaged the younger's wounds. "Get it all out now, because as soon as Yoongi and Hobi walk through that door, we need to get down to business and you need to focus." And as soon as the last piece of gauze was taped in place, that was precisely what Namjoon did.

Jin held the sobbing boy against his own shoulder, wrapping his arms around him as tightly as he could without causing any more pain. Namjoon went through a hell of a beating trying to keep you – Jin was honestly surprised he wasn't closer to death. It would take weeks for his body to fully heal, which would add time to getting you back, time they couldn't afford.

There were plenty of other things that would add time as well, things they would go over once they were all together. They had never truly seen ruthless Namjoon before but seeing how high being with you had made him, they could only imagine how low he could get.

Namjoon jumped when the apartment door opened. "Joon!" Hobi's voice called as two sets of footsteps echoed through the home. Hobi appeared in the back room first, Yoongi right behind him. "Is she…" Hobi's question died on his lips, one glance at the younger boy gave him the answer he didn't want.

"You look like shit," Yoongi said, never one to beat around the bush.

"Tact, Yoongi," Jin scolded. "Learn some."

"We don't have time, Jin." Yoongi leaned against the wall and returned his attention to Namjoon. "What happened?"

Namjoon took a deep breath, wiping his face. He would have time to be sad later. Right now, you needed him to think, to be stable.

Right now, you needed him to be the leader he was raised to be.

⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟

The desk lamp was on and was the only light in the room. Your father always preferred to work in the dark. You stood in your father's study, angry and ashamed. He always made you feel so small. He sat at his desk, leaning back in his chair, eyes lazily roaming up and down your body. Fear started creeping its way back into you. The last time you had been in this room you were being informed of your official sale. You could see the disapproval in his eyes and could only imagine which part of this whole thing angered him the most.

You knew you looked terrible. You had stopped crying a while ago—it wasn't going to do you any good—but your face was still a little puffy, eyes still a little red. Your hair was a mess; from sex, from sleeping, from running. You were only in Namjoon's shirt and your underwear, and thankfully the former was big enough on you it went down to your mid-thigh, keeping you somewhat covered. You weren't wearing shoes or any foot covering for that matter. You had clearly gained some weight back (Jin had made sure of that).

You kept your tongue plastered to the roof of your mouth, if you were to actually bite it, you'd bite through it. You had to wait for him to start the conversation, if you could even call it that. He had to speak first, always, and he got the last word, always.

Whatever happened between that would determine your punishment.

"You're a clever girl, Y/N," he finally said. He was using his dinner voice, the eerily calm one he used when he didn't want to make a scene. "Almost too clever. Perhaps I trained you too well."

Appeal to his ego. Don't make it worse.

Your voice was quiet, it always was when speaking to him. "So well I came up with an escape plan in an hour and then evaded you for four and a half months."

Yoongi would be proud. Would've gotten a smirk from him.

You're making it worse.

"Even framed five of my associates," he continued, "made me think you'd been kidnapped. It was the second one I interrogated—" tortured "—that suggested maybe you had run away instead. That you had found a way to slip between my fingers." He paused and sighed. "I didn't take the suggestion seriously until the fourth. I kept telling myself, no, not my Y/n, not my darling. She's a good girl, she listens and does as she's told."

Before you left, you were the picture-perfect image of a right and proper daughter. Never speaking too loudly, never talking back, head bowed in submission to whatever he wanted no matter what you thought or felt. You followed him like a lamb on a leash, as he coated your skin in red.

Appeal to his ego. Don't make it worse.

"You underestimated me." Jin would be proud too. He always wanted you to speak your mind.

You're making it worse.

"I did." Your eyes widened, shock evident across your face. Your father never admitted to doing something wrong. "But perhaps you overestimated yourself as well. If you really didn't want to be found, you would've left the country."

Appeal to his ego. Don't make it worse.

"Think I did pretty good for a sixteen-year-old who left with only the clothes on her back." Hobi would've laughed. You would've joined in.

Stop making it worse.

"And now you've returned wearing someone else's clothes," he mused, then sighed again. "I'm not surprised this is what you turned to in order to survive on those streets, but I am disappointed Darling. If you wanted to be a whore that badly, all you had to do was ask."

Namjoon would be furious. How dare someone speak to you that way.

Stop. Making. It. Worse.

"And if I had asked you not to sell me to some stranger twice my age, would you have listened?"

You didn't mean for your voice to get louder, for it to have that edge you picked up while you were with the guys; you meant to keep it quiet, almost docile, the way it had always been.

Your father smiled, and it was the scariest thing you'd seen that night. "He actually isn't that much older than you, just a few years. A charming young man, you would've liked him if you had bothered to give him a chance." You weren't so sure of that. "You're lucky he still wants you."

Your stomach dropped. Part of you had hoped that if your father did manage to find you and drag you back into his world, the deal would've been called off, on account of you being gone. Whoever bought you must've really wanted you, and that sent a small shiver down your spine. You'd rather stay locked up in your father's estate than go with them.

Better the devil you know.

"So, what happens next?" you dared to ask. "I get locked in my room, never to see the light of day again, until they come to collect?" If he locked you up here, you knew you could get out again. After all, you did it once. Getting back to Namjoon would be difficult, but you would manage.

All you really wanted was to be back with Namjoon.

Was he even still alive?

Would you stop—

"Something like that." His voice cut through your thoughts, and your full attention drew back to him as he stood. He gestured to the men standing behind you—the ones who had chased you, hurt Joon, and brought you back here—motioning them forward. You felt hands clamp down on your shoulders and the tops of your arms.

"I can go to my room without an escort," you told him, but you didn't fight against the hold on you.

"You aren't going to your room." His voice finally changed. Gone was the eerie calm, this tone was firm and dark. There was no arguing with this tone of voice, no telling it that it was wrong or mistaken. "She's yours, gentlemen. Do with her what you like. Keep her alive, don't get her pregnant. Everything else is fair game."

You let his words sink in, as the energy in the room changed. It was tense, it had been the entire time you talked, but now there was a sinister edge to it. The hands on you felt dirtier, and the snickers you heard made your blood run cold. Do with her what you like, everything is fair game.

"You don't mean that." He couldn't. "Not even you are that cruel."

He hummed before responding again. "What is it that I always say, Y/N, do you remember?" He paused, and gave you a chance to answer, but you weren't sure exactly what he was referring to. "The punishment should always match the crime."

Your eyes widened. "What fucking crime did I commit?" you nearly yelled. He couldn't be serious. You were starting to lose it; your heart rate and breathing were picking up. "All I did was run away!"

"I told you Darling, if you wanted to be a whore that badly, all you had to do was ask. There was no need to run off and sell yourself on the street." He smiled again. "I'll see you in a few years." He let out a breath, like he was the one who struggled during this. "Thank you for your work," he said to the men again. "The payment will be at the drop spot by dawn. Good evening, gentlemen."

You were being pulled backward, too many hands on you, touching you. You tried pushing forward, tried to break out of their grasp. Despite being the one who sealed your fate, you reached for your father, begging him to stop this, to change his mind, anything, please, please don't do this.

Better the devil you know.

He paid you no mind, sitting back down and carrying on whatever work he was doing beforehand as if the whole conversation never happened. As if you really meant that little to him. After all, he got the last word, always.

┈     ┈     ┈     ⋞ ⟨ ⏣ ⟩ ⋟     ┈     ┈     ┈ "I don't think I know how to rest mellow and slow." ⋞ ⟨ ⏣ ⟩ ⋟

Three months...

Some days Namjoon could do things. Some days he could get up, get dressed, eat a decent meal. Some days he could work on a plan on how to find you and get you back. Some days.

Other days, Namjoon's mind couldn't stop replaying that night. It wouldn't even try to come up with different ways things could've happened. It was just an endless repetition of him trying to protect you and failing. An endless stream of your screams and cries ringing in his ears. The echoes of you calling his name were stuck in his head like a scratched CD, constantly skipping back to that moment.

On most days Namjoon was a normal functioning human being with a resolve that would change the world if everyone had one like his. Other days he thought he was losing his mind. He kept seeing you just around the bend or in the corner of his eye. He kept hearing the echo of your laugh or the whisper of his name on your lips. You had become a ghost, taunting him with being just real enough to remind him that you had been there once, but now you were gone.

That's why he worked so hard on the days he could. If his mind was occupied with trying to get you back, then it wouldn't drown in the memories you had left behind. He wouldn't torture himself.

He stood motionless beneath the stream of hot water, one hand against the tile to keep himself steady. He worked his mind in overdrive, trying to find the detail he was missing, the last piece in the puzzle, the final move before checkmate.

Namjoon was ninety-eight percent sure that it was your father who orchestrated the attack. It had to be. No one else in the Seoul scene would've sent a group to take you like that. That last two percent was the possibility it was whoever "bought" you; that still connected it to your father though.

His main problem was he knew the four of them couldn't go up against your father alone, not right off the bat. They would need more time, more resources, more people. Things they just didn't have. The next thing was figuring out how the hell your father found you. They had all been so careful, hadn't they? Where did they go wrong?

Namjoon could try going back to his family, but even that was only a temporary solution. It would grant them access to more information, perhaps, but that was it. Whatever falling out his father and yours had all those years ago still ran deep, not to mention his father wouldn't take Namjoon back.

And this was all assuming you were at your father's estate. It was about fifty-fifty, you being there or your father keeping you somewhere else, somewhere with higher security that would leave you with even fewer chances to get yourself out. You only had one chance to get yourself out before. Your father wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

So, forty-sixty, you were somewhere else. That didn't make searching for you any easier.

It took a while, but Hobi managed to get the street camera footage from that night. The two spent hours on end staring at the computer screen until they could stitch together the parts that tracked the van. He was right. Namjoon recognized the path the van was taking; it did lead to your father's estate. So, what next?

Maybe he could get Hobi to hack into your father's security system. It would be hard and risky, but that was the easiest way to know if you were there or not. Or maybe he could ask Hobi to check that camera footage again, see if the van reappeared later. Maybe they could keep following it, see where it went once it left the estate. They wouldn't be able to tell if you were in it, but maybe tracking it after would give them something to build on.

Namjoon shut the water off and stepped out of the shower. He couldn't spend forever just speculating, there was work to do if he was going to find you.

And he was going to find you.

⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟

You curled up as much as you could. The mattress was warm beneath you, but you couldn't stop shivering. How long had you been here? The room they kept you in was dark, the small light only switched on when someone was in there with you. There were no windows, no carpet, and no other furniture besides the bed you were on.

They liked it when you fought back. You had tried to be pliant at the start, to let them do what they wanted to you in the hopes that they would get bored and leave you alone. They caught on quickly and decided that if you were just going to lay there like a doll, then you didn't need to be conscious for what they were doing. When you finally came to, you were covered in dried blood and—ick—and a stabbing pain in your side in addition to the horrible ache between your legs and pounding in your head.

It took you a few minutes to maneuver yourself in a way to see what happened without hurting yourself too much, and when you saw it, you nearly burst into tears. Carved into your skin, trails of blood still slowly leaking out from the cuts, the word stared up at you, mocked you as it rang in your mind. If you wanted to be a whore that badly...

The only woman you had seen—the only other person you saw besides the horrible people who used you—was well into her forties, maybe even fifties. You begged her the first time you saw her to help you get out of here before anything else happened to you.

"If I can't get myself out, what makes you think I can help you?"

Her words chilled you to the bone. She said nothing else to you about how long she had been here or what could have happened to her but based on what was happening to you it wasn't a stretch of your imagination. If she had never gotten out, then what chances did you have?

She was the one who cleaned you up after they left you, wiped the white liquid off your skin, cleaned up any small wounds. She brought you food and water and often forced them down your throat. She never tried to make conversation after that initial declaration of helplessness. The few times your eyes met hers, you saw the remains of a broken spirit, of a life without life.

It only added to your fear.

The first time she gathered up your sheets for cleaning, she also handed you a new shirt, white and much larger than your usual size. "Take off that one," she ordered, turning back to the bed. You only shifted on your feet.

"You'll bring it back, right?" you asked her quietly, too scared of the answer.

"Of course not!" She fought to get the last sheet corner onto the mattress. "It's covered in too many stains to be worth the hassle."

That alone caused you more panic than anything else. "No! No no no, please, let me keep it, please!" You dropped the new shirt to cling to the one you were still wearing. "Please, it's all I have left!" It was the only reminder you had of a world outside this room, that there were people who did love and care about you. "Please."

For the first time since you'd met her, you saw a flash of empathy in her eyes. She huffed, but there was less malice behind it than usual. "Fine," she rolled her eyes, "I'll bring it back after it's washed." That calmed you down a little bit, and you loosened your grip slightly but otherwise didn't move. "Take it off," she told you again, "I can't take you with me."

You bit your lip. "You'll bring it back?" you asked again, eyeing her cautiously. She hadn't directly hurt you, but you didn't fully trust her either. She let out a sigh, then turned to look at you fully.

"I'll bring it back." Her voice was softer than you had ever heard it before. You nodded, then finally slid the shirt over your head and gently handed it to her. She placed it in the basket with the other dirty sheets while you picked up the white shirt and put it on. "I don't understand why you want it so badly," she said on her way out, her voice back to its harsh detached tone. "It's just a shirt."

You heard the familiar sound of the door locking, and then the light turned off and you were left in the darkness again. You sat down on the bed, relishing the feel of clean linens on your skin while you still could.

It wasn't just a shirt. It wasn't even your shirt, it was Namjoon's. It was the only thing you had of his, and part of you felt that if it was gone, then so was he. Maybe it was a bit silly, but it made you feel just a little bit better. It helped you believe that they were coming for you.

Namjoon was coming for you.

┈     ┈     ┈     ⋞ ⟨ ⏣ ⟩ ⋟     ┈     ┈     ┈ "Scream. My words are failing me, when did we become so numb?" ⋞ ⟨ ⏣ ⟩ ⋟

Six months…

"Can't you hurry?" Namjoon whispered. He was playing lookout while Hobi worked on the code for the door. You were behind it, you had to be, and Namjoon was getting impatient. It had been six long, horrible months, and all he wanted was you back – back in his home, in his arms, in his bed.

"If I get it wrong the alarms go off," Hobi responded, just as tense as Namjoon. He was crouching on the ground, doing whatever hackers do, trying to crack or override the code lock on the door. "And then everyone knows we're here, and this whole operation becomes a million times more dangerous." He had a habit of exaggerating when he was stressed, but he wasn't wrong.

Namjoon bit his tongue, and forced himself to take a deep breath. He couldn't afford to lose it, not now, not when you were so close.

The alarms started going off, loud and blaring in their ears, red lights flashing all through the warehouse. Namjoon glared down at his friend. "What the fuck?!"

"I didn't do anything!" Hobi didn't look up, keeping all his concentration on his task. "Something else must've happened or tipped them off!"

"Can you hurry now?" Namjoon's heartbeat thundered in his ears, louder than the echoing of footsteps on concrete and metal and voices shouting out orders. Hobi only responded with an angry sigh, dropping his phone on the ground. He quickly started punching in codes, every few buttons pushed lighting the keypad up in red.

The alarms were already going off, so it didn't matter if he got the code wrong. Trial and error was the fastest way to get this done now. He had managed to narrow it down to six possible combinations, and on his fourth try, he finally got it. The door unlocked itself. Namjoon turned the handle and pushed it open without a second thought.

"Y/N!" He shouted into the darkened room, eyes darting around, looking for you. But the room was empty, save for a small bed off in the corner. His brows pulled together, beyond confused. You were supposed to be here. All the information they had gathered, the recon they'd done, everything—it all pointed to you being here.

Where were you?

"Y/N?" He asked this time, as if the walls could answer him. How could you not be here?

"Fuck, Namjoon, they found us!" Yoongi's voice came through the earpiece. "Tell me you got her, we gotta go!"

"She's..." Namjoon started to say, but it was hard speaking around the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. "She's not..." He didn't want to say it. If he said it, then it would be real. He didn't want it to be real. "She's not here."

He guessed Jin or Yoongi started to say something in response, but he couldn't hear them. Between the alarms, the sudden gunshots echoing, and his own heart breaking, Namjoon couldn't hear anything.

"Joon, Yoongi just got shot!" Hobi's voice finally broke through his reverie with more bad news. "If she's not here then she's not here. We can look again for her later but right now we have to go!"

Namjoon stepped back, hand resting on the doorknob. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force his pain back down. Part of him couldn't help but feel like if he left now, he'd be leaving you, and he couldn't... he couldn't...

But he had to.

With a final shake of his head, Namjoon closed the door to the empty room.

⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟

Everything hurt. Everything always hurt, but today was worse. You weren't sure what had happened, but they sure took it out on you. You were in your usual ball on the floor, hiding between the bed and the wall. You didn't have the strength or energy to crawl under the bed, and you knew it wouldn't really do much in the end. You just didn't want to be on it any more than necessary.

Despite how numb you were feeling inside, your heart still stopped when you heard people outside the door. You squeezed your eyes shut, curling up impossibly tighter. They had just left you, hadn't they? It was too soon for them to come back. There was no way you could go through anything in your current state.

Not that you mattered to them. You were just a plaything, something for them to get their frustrations out on. Maybe some had just left you, but others wanted their turn now.

You could hear the alarms going off outside the room, albeit muffled by the walls you were trapped behind. They only sounded when something was wrong, and after that was usually when things got worse for you. That was probably why there were more people coming for you. Maybe today they would have mercy, maybe they would knock you out so you wouldn't have to feel whatever they did. You could deal with the pain later when you woke up.

They were taking their sweet time coming in for you. Was this a new tactic they were trying? A new way to mess with you? Would they make you sit here and wait, wondering if they would come in or not? It wasn't working. Whether they came in now or they came in later, they would come in. There was no point in hoping that they would leave you alone for good.

The door finally opened, allowing in the loud blaring of the alarms. You held your breath, waiting for the standard "little girl".

"Y/N!"

Slowly, carefully, you opened your eyes. You were still facing the wall, a little blinded by the sudden light coming from the open door. Were you dreaming? Were you hallucinating? You knew that was a common side effect of your nightmares and panic attacks. Maybe you had been so cruelly used earlier that you did pass out, and this was what your trauma-ridden brain produced.

"Y/N?" He sounded more unsure now, confused. Was it actually him? Did you dare to believe it?

"Joon?" The word came out as a breath, small and shaky and impossible to hear over the noise. Your throat was raw from all the screaming and crying you'd done, there was no way you would be heard. You wanted to roll over, to sit up, something to get your line of sight away from the wall and towards the voice you weren't sure was real.

Your body protested, too stiff and too sore to move quickly or more than a few millimeters at a time. Your head pounded from dehydration, and twisting it however slowly still caused stars to dance across your vision.

"She's... she's not..." The desperation in his voice hurt your already broken heart. "She's not here." This had to be a nightmare, a new creation to torment you even in your sleep. There was no way—if he were here, if he had finally come to save you—there was no way he couldn't see you right now.

But you weren't in plain sight, you remembered. You were hiding. You couldn't be seen from the door; he would have to walk over to the space between the bed and the wall.

You had never hated your little hiding spot more.

"Joon," you tried again, but it didn't come out any louder than before. You fought the best you could against the pain, but the rush of adrenaline only made your head hurt more, making it harder to see and coordinate your useless limbs. You pushed against the floor, the ground cold beneath your hand, trying to get yourself up. It was slow, god it was so slow, and your muscles screamed, but you managed to get your head just barely above the bed.

He was there. He was standing in the doorway, hand on the doorknob, turned so you could only see the shadow of his profile. "Joon!" But he didn't hear you. He couldn't hear you. You watched as he shook his head, looking down, and closed the door.

Your arms gave out, and you crashed back onto the concrete beneath you. Your eyes stung, wanting to cry tears your body wasn't able to produce. You tried to convince yourself it was just another nightmare, a hallucination, anything that would hurt less. Anything that meant he wasn't here, he had never been here, he hadn't just left you here.

Because he wouldn't. Namjoon wouldn't, not ever. Namjoon would never leave you.

But he just did.

You were alone, enveloped in darkness once again.

⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟

They made it out almost too easily. Despite Yoongi slowly bleeding in the backseat, Namjoon had Hobi drive around for a while just to make sure they weren't followed, before finally telling him to get Yoongi to Jin's.

No one brought up the elephant in the room.

Jin helped Yoongi to the back room, muttered something about how many bullet wounds have I sewn up for you now? This would be the fourth, but his comments were only met with silence. Hobi sat on the couch, staring ahead at nothing. Namjoon joined him, solely because he didn't think it would be good for either of them to be alone right now.

The silence dragged on. Namjoon leaned against the arm, propping his head up with his hand. There was a palpable tension between the two, and it was all too easy for him to pinpoint the cause. "It's not your fault, hyung."

"How?" There was more venom in Hobi's voice than Namjoon was expecting, but the younger was scarily good at remaining calm these days, at taking whatever was thrown his way and staying neutral. "How can you—how is it not—I'm the one who—who—" He cut off with a sharp breath, on the verge of hyperventilating.

On the verge of breaking.

"Breathe, Hobi," Namjoon reminded him gently, the way he used to remind you when your panic attacks got bad. "Just breathe."

The elder shook his head, squeezed his eyes and fists shut, tried to do anything to stay stable. "We—we failed," he said, his voice quiet, but in the empty room he felt like he was screaming. "I failed." Tears started seeping through the closed lids, trailing down his cheeks, his chest heaving as he tried to keep the sobs at bay.

Namjoon bit his lip – a small habit he picked up from you, another reminder of what he had lost. He could feel the weight of the night pressing down on him, on Hobi, on Jin and Yoongi too. Tears pricked behind his eyes, the sensation foreign to him. He hadn't cried since the night you were taken away from him.

But maybe he could let himself cry tonight. Maybe he could let himself mourn this failure, mourn the loss of you all over again. Maybe this time he wouldn't do it alone.

"You love her too, don't you?" Namjoon whispered.

Hobi snorted, taking a deep breath that really didn't help him much. "Of course I do," he answered, his voice still thick with emotion. "We all do." That was his standard response, something safe and easy, something that grouped him with the others and the more appropriate feelings he should be feeling.

Namjoon gave a sad smile. "Hyung." Hobi finally looked up and met Namjoon's eyes. He couldn't hide it anymore, not with the way Namjoon was looking at him. He always thought that if Namjoon found out their friendship would be over. After all, who falls in love with their best friend's girl?

But there wasn't any anger or hatred in Namjoon's eyes. There was just acceptance and understanding and god so much pain. Hobi found himself nodding before he realized what he was doing. "Yeah," he said, his voice strained and barely above a whisper, "yeah, I do." A new wave of tears started flowing down his cheeks, but he didn't fight it this time.

Namjoon wrapped his arms around his friend, holding onto him tightly. Hobi was surprised at the action – Namjoon hadn't acted on any emotion other than anger and pure determination in months. Still, he returned the hug, allowing his head to rest on the younger's shoulder.

"Cry, Hobi," Namjoon said, repeating the same words Jin had told him that night, "get it all out now, because when morning comes, we get back to work."

It would never be brought up again, but for a moment Hobi felt relief from finally letting it out. And Namjoon was comforted knowing that he wasn't the only one who hurt as bad as he did.

┈     ┈     ┈     ⋞ ⟨ ⏣ ⟩ ⋟     ┈     ┈     ┈ "No darkness, no season can last forever." ⋞ ⟨ ⏣ ⟩ ⋟

One year...

"He's not gonna come out, hyung," Yoongi said from the couch. Jin was frantically hustling around Namjoon's kitchen, throwing together something that resembled a meal for their youngest. Namjoon had practically locked himself in his room for the last month. If he did leave, he went undetected by the rest of them.

"I'm not trying to get him to leave, I'm trying to get him to eat." The eldest let out a strained breath, pushing his hand through his hair. He had had a hunch this would be a hard time of year for the youngest, but he didn't picture it to be as bad as it was.

Without much fanfare, he picked up the plate of food and walked to the locked bedroom door down the hall. "Namjoon-ah?" Jin knocked a couple of times. "I have food!"

He wasn't surprised to be met with silence, but it still bothered him. He knocked on the door a few more times with more force than necessary. "Namjoon, if you don't open the door I will have Hoseok pick the lock," he huffed.

"Why are you roping me into things?" Hoseok spoke up from where he was lying on the floor in the living room. Yoongi was, quite unceremoniously, using his ass as a footrest. Hoseok couldn't bring himself to care, endlessly scrolling through a number of websites on his laptop.

There was a pause, as the three eldest held their breath, but after a moment with still no answer from the bedroom, Jin walked back down the hall, giving Hoseok a pointed look. The man sighed – he didn't really want to do anything either, other than wallow in his own misery. Yoongi let his feet slide off as Hoseok stood up.

One slightly bent credit card later, Hoseok pushed Namjoon's bedroom door open.

"Namjoon!" Jin called, stepping in, expecting Namjoon to be at the desk working, but he wasn't there. Jin looked carefully around the empty room. "Namjoon?" A soft breeze blew through the space, and Jin looked towards the open window. Namjoon never left the window open. He let his head fall back in defeat. "If he jumped out the fucking window..."

Namjoon walked down the street, hood up, hands deep in his pockets. He was suffocating, staying locked up in his room, drowning in his mind. He had to get out before he did something stupid. Well, stupider. He should've told one of his hyungs, but he couldn't bring himself to actually open the door. He still wanted to be alone, he just wanted to be alone in a larger, more open space.

The afternoon was overcast and held the promise of rain later; what a perfect environment to be so completely depressed. One year, almost to the day. It's been one year without you. Somehow it was worse than the ten years he spent without you. Of course, he was a child for most of that time, and he knew where you were then.

He didn't have that luxury now.

He wasn't paying attention to where he was going, just letting his feet carry him wherever. When he looked up to get his bearings, he found himself at the gym he often frequented, times when his mind was too fried to work properly but his body was too wired to stay still. Namjoon supposed his current mood fit the bill.

Fifteen minutes later he was letting his frustrations out on a sandbag that didn't deserve his anger but was made specifically for this purpose. He had just managed to zone out, to get his mind to shut up, when he heard soft footsteps approaching.

"You're doing it wrong."

Namjoon didn't jump at the young voice behind him, but he did pause and spare a glance. He almost wondered how the kid could see anything, with the black fringe hanging over his eyes. "Not really worried about doing it right," he replied, turning back to the sandbag in hopes he would be left alone, "just trying to blow off some steam."

"Yeah, I get that," the kid said, and Namjoon tensed as he heard him come closer, "but if you keep doing it wrong, you'll end up hurting yourself, and then you'll be angrier." The kid leaned against the stand the bag hung from and crossed his arm, looking Namjoon over. His eyebrows furrowed. "I see you here a lot, how come you're so upset?"

Namjoon sighed. He didn't owe this kid any answers. He opened his mouth to tell him so but was cut off by the younger. "Why don't you want to talk about it?" His eyes widened at the question. How did he— "Was whatever happened really that bad?"

His mouth was stuck open as he tried to figure out how to respond. His brain finally settled on honesty since the kid would probably be able to tell if he was lying. "Yeah," he breathed out, "yeah, it was." The kid offered a small, sad smile.

"I'm Jungkook," he said. "Can I know your name?"

"I'm not really in the mood to make new friends, kid."

"You know," Jungkook continued anyway, "talking about things usually helps more than endlessly punching something that didn't do anything to you. Especially when you're punching it wrong." Namjoon pursed his lips.

"We've already established that I don't want to talk about it." He wanted to go back to mindlessly hitting the sandbag but felt weird with this kid watching him so intently. And somehow peering into his soul. He wasn't used to being on the receiving end of that.

Jungkook only shrugged. "I can show you how to do it right," he offered, "so you can keep avoiding your prob—"

"Jeon!" The poor kid jumped, eyes going wide in fear as he shuffled back a few steps from the approaching man. He looked like the gym owner maybe, or one of the managers, someone who held himself with an arrogant over-importance. Something about the whole thing made Namjoon's jaw tick. Whoever this guy was, he was bad news; and Jungkook looked too small and innocent and afraid.

He looked too much like you for Namjoon to just stand there.

As he got closer Namjoon could see a nametag that said Trainer but lacked an actual name. "Is there a problem, sir?" Namjoon asked, catching him off-guard. He looked Namjoon up and down once, then plastered a fake smile onto his face.

"My apologies if he's been bothering you," he said, latching onto Jungkook's wrist. The younger didn't protest or fight back, but Namjoon could see he wanted to, the discomfort blatant in his eyes. "He knows where he's supposed to stay."

Namjoon lifted a single eyebrow at that, and the trainer faltered only slightly. "I was enjoying his company, actually, until you came and ruined it." He tongued his cheek before asking his next question, cutting the trainer off again. "Where exactly is he supposed to stay?"

Jungkook looked back and forth between Namjoon and the man holding him. He was quiet when he spoke, "Listen, you don't—"

"Hush, boy!" Jungkook’s mouth snapped shut as he looked down. Something in Namjoon's heart hurt at the implication of what the end of that sentence was. You don't have to help me.

"Maybe not, Kook," Namjoon replied anyway, "but I want to."

Jungkook met his eyes again, and this time there was the smallest glimmer of hope shining in them. At that moment Namjoon understood nearly everything about the kid. It had been a long, long time since anyone had stood up for him, had shown that they wanted to care for him.

"That's enough!" Namjoon looked back to the trainer, who was beyond angry. He offered a cruel smile to Namjoon. "Enjoy the rest of your visit." He turned away, beginning to drag Jungkook with him. The kid met Namjoon's eyes one more time, this time looking determined. Before he fully realized what was going to happen, it was already happening.

It took two hits for Jungkook to be let go from the trainer's hold, and two more for Jungkook to grab Namjoon's wrist. "Run!" The two took off like lightning, bursting out the front door while the trainer stumbled after, yelling and swearing at them.

"This way!" Namjoon pulled the younger along, knowing these streets well with how often he had aimlessly wandered them. They didn't stop running until the elder was sure they were safe. He released Jungkook's hand as they fell to the floor, leaning against a brick wall, catching their breath.

"Hyung?" Jungkook finally rasped out, looking up at Namjoon. The elder didn't like the look in his eyes, the way he could see through him. "I remind you of someone, don't I?" He asked between breaths. "Someone important to you, someone you lost."

Namjoon couldn't breathe again, nor could he look away from the inquisitive doe eyes staring him down. All he could do was nod.

"Is that why you're so sad?" Another nod, this time accompanied by a small clench in his jaw. He let out the air he didn't realize he was holding.

"She wasn't lost," Namjoon managed to get out. "She was taken. And I can't– I don't– we haven't—"

"Found her yet," Jungkook finished for him. He let out another breath. "Is there a way I can help?" Namjoon smiled wryly at the offer, but he continued. "I've got ties with some of the sketchier underground places here, I could ask around for you or—"

"Whoa whoa whoa," Namjoon interrupted, "slow down. What do you mean sketchier underground places? Why would a kid like you—"

"I'm not a kid! I'm sixteen this year!" Jungkook was only met with Namjoon's icy stare. He looked down. "I'm from Busan," he said quietly, "and I was part of an underground boxing ring there. Then I got sold to this organization here in Seoul last year, and I've been with them ever since."

It didn't take long for Namjoon to piece the rest together. "The gym is just a cover-up." Jungkook nodded. "And the guy, the trainer we were running from?"

"He technically does work as a trainer, but it's supposed to be for us fighters... We aren't supposed to leave the basement during working hours."

They lapsed into silence, Namjoon's mind running too fast at the moment for him to speak, and Jungkook too nervous to keep going. He finally met the elder's eyes. "Are you... are you gonna take me back?"

"No." There was no pause, no hesitation in the answer. Namjoon had gotten himself too attached too quickly. "We're gonna figure something out."

He pulled his phone from his front pocket to check the time and to see how many missed calls and messages he had from Jin. Jungkook moved over to sit next to Namjoon, too curious for his own good. "Is that her?" he asked, pointing to Namjoon's wallpaper.

"Yeah," Namjoon responded quietly. He knew he shouldn't have you as his phone background, but he needed it. He needed the reminder that he was still fighting for something, for someone, for you.

It was the picture Hoseok had taken at the fair that day. He told Namjoon about it after that night and sent it to him so Namjoon could still have something to keep your memory alive. You looked so happy, so carefree. Namjoon would kill to see that look on your face again, to see you again.

"She's really pretty... will you tell me about her?" The elder looked away from your eyes and at Jungkook's instead. They were round and wide with so much innocence and wonder, despite the things he had gone through at such a young age and for so long, things probably much worse than what Namjoon had been through.

"How are you so happy?" The words fell from his mouth before he realized he was saying anything. Jungkook only smiled and shrugged.

"Jinagada*," he said simply. "It's what we told ourselves in Busan, me and some of the other kids I fought with. Everything goes. Every fight in the ring ends, winter turns into spring, night always becomes morning." Jungkook pushed himself up, stretching his legs out. "Just have to hold out until it does." He held his hand out for Namjoon. "We'll find her."

"We?" Namjoon asked as he grabbed the outstretched hand and pulled himself up.

"Of course, hyung! You really think I'm gonna let you keep doing this by yourself?" The kid practically vibrated with excitement. Namjoon wrapped his arm around Jungkook's shoulders to try and keep him still. It brought a small, small smile to Namjoon's face.

"Alright, alright, calm down, kid." He started walking again, slowly leading them back towards the apartment where he was sure his hyungs would rain hell down on him. "My name is Namjoon, by the way."

Jungkook looked up at him and smiled so wide he looked like a bunny. "Can I still call you hyung?" Namjoon couldn't help but smile back, albeit a small and sad one, and nodded.

"Sure, Kookie."

"And will you still tell me about her?" He asked again. Namjoon looked ahead and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

"We were childhood friends," he started, "and good god, did she like worrying the shit out of me. There was this one time…"

┈     ┈     ┈     ⋞ ⟨ ⏣ ⟩ ⋟     ┈     ┈     ┈ "But survival is a must, so will you stand with us?" ⋞ ⟨ ⏣ ⟩ ⋟

Two years...

They kept the private club room dim on purpose. Neither party wanted the other to get too close a look. Jin and Yoongi sat at the table across from their guests; Hoseok, Namjoon, and Jungkook sat further back, hiding and observing. Jungkook wasn't actually supposed to be there, but they had a hard time telling the kid no. They wanted to keep him further away from their planning and scheming, but Jungkook was hellbent on being involved and helping in any way he could.

"Let me make sure we have this right," the one on the left said. He was leaning back in his chair, hands in his pockets. He was shorter than his partner, and they both looked far too relaxed for the tense atmosphere in the room, like they were above it all. They also didn't look much older than Jungkook was, and he knew that gave Namjoon further pause on hiring them. "All you want from us is to gather information on these two mob bosses, so that you can swing in a few years later and kill them?"

"Why wait?" The other asked, lightly brushing his bangs from his eyes. He was resting his chin in his palm, leaning against the table that separated them from Jin and Yoongi. "Why not take them out now?"

"Going in now, as we are, is suicide," Yoongi answered. "They're powerful and dangerous, and if we want an actual fighting chance of taking them down, we need everything we can get beforehand."

"You won't be working alone," Jin added, "Suga and J-Hope will also be working to gather whatever we can."

"Uh-huh," the shorter one nodded, though Jungkook knew he wasn't quite convinced. He narrowed his eyes. "This is about a girl, isn't it?"

"It's always about a girl," his partner said, glancing behind Jin and Yoongi to look at the three sitting in the back.

"This is some Romeo and Juliet thing—you're both part of rival gangs or whatever but you're in love and instead of simply running away you're bringing death into the equation." He ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry, but we're not interested in being your Mercutio."

"We aren't interested in casualties either," Jin said, "on either side. There are a lot of innocent people that could get caught up in this and we want to take the extra time to make sure none of them will get hurt."

That got the two of them to think for a moment. They turned and looked at each other; to Jungkook it looked like they were having an entire conversation between just the two of them.

The one on the right began speaking but kept looking at his partner. "Alright, we'll work for you—"

"—if you can answer this question," the other finished, turning to look at the rest.

Yoongi shook his head. "We don't have time for games."

"But you can wait a year?" the right one scoffed. "Sure."

"RM?" Jin turned to look back at Namjoon. He ultimately had the final say in things.

Jungkook could hear the gears turning in his hyung's head. These two were some of the best and most sought-after informants in Seoul, but they refused to join one gang or family. They only gathered information and then sold it to the highest bidder. They didn't work for anyone, despite the endless promises of money and power and protection from the endless death threats, no doubt. The youngest wondered if this 'question' had something to do with that.

Namjoon sighed next to him. He must've come to the same conclusion that Jungkook did—or maybe Jungkook came to the same conclusion that Namjoon did. He wasn't quite as fast a thinker as his hyung, yet. "What's the question?"

The shorter smirked, taking time to look at each person as he spoke. "One of us always tells the truth—"

"—and one of us always lies." The other's eyes met with Jungkook's, and something in the youngest's mind ticked. "You figure out which is which—"

"—and we're yours." He reached into his pocket, and Yoongi tensed for a moment before he saw it was just his phone. "And you can't just guess, there needs to be reasoning behind your answer."

"There's five of you," the other said, grabbing his partner's phone and unlocking it, "so we'll let you ask us five questions."

"You have five minutes." The phone was placed on the table, face-up. "Go."

Jin and Yoongi immediately stood up, as did the three in the back, and they all gathered in a small circle. Well, the four oldest gathered in a small circle. Jungkook stood just outside of it, still able to hear the conversation but keeping most of his focus on the two at the table.

"You've got to be kidding me, Namjoon," Yoongi whispered angrily.

"We need them, you know that."

"Other people have the same information—" Jin started, but Hoseok interrupted him

"But not the same skills that they do. There's a reason no one has staked a claim on them yet, and why they're still alive."

"What's two plus two?" Jungkook asked the pair, startling the others and catching everyone's attention.

"Four," they answered in sync. The one on the right was looking up at the ceiling, while the one on the left was smiling wide.

"Which is the number of questions you have left," he added.

"Kid—" Yoongi started to scold him but Namjoon beat him to it.

"Kook, I know you want to help, but you need to let us handle this." He placed a hand on Jungkook's shoulder and gently pulled him backward.

"Right, right," Jungkook nodded, relenting. "I'm sorry, hyung." He waited just a moment, before— "Just really fast though – what's two plus two?" he asked again, this time surging forward to the table. Several people reacted this time, but Jungkook only paid attention to the two in from of him.

"Four."

"Still four."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"RM!"

"Kook!"

"This is hilarious," the one on the left giggled. The right one finally looked away from the ceiling and fixed his eyes on the youngest, a smile on his face as well.

"Why didn't you look at me until just now?" Jungkook asked him.

"Because you're not all that interesting," came the answer, brown eyes staring right into Jungkook's.

"I’m just saying," Jungkook shrugged, "it's a bit rude to not look at someone when you're asked a question. Or, when you're speaking to them at all. And I'm not buying that you think I'm not interesting—not when every eye in the room is on me right now."

He shrugged, mirroring Jungkook's posture. "Think what you want." The room slid into silence again. There was some shuffling behind him—it was probably Yoongi, trying to pull Jungkook away before he could do anything more, but someone stopped him.

"Hold up," Namjoon said quietly. "Give him a minute." The corner of his mouth turned up at Namjoon's permission to keep going.

"He's the one that tells the truth, isn't he?" Jungkook gestured to the one on the left. Suddenly the light mood his questions created vanished.

"What's your reasoning?"

"Two plus two is four," he said simply. "If one of you always lies then one of you wouldn't have answered four."

"That isn't a valid explanation."

Jungkook shook his head in disagreement. "You lied," he pointed at each of them directly as he continued. "He said one of you always tells the truth, which he does. You said one of you always lies, but you don't." Jungkook smirked.  "You only lie when you look at someone, and you happened to look right at me when you said that. You tell the truth when you look away, but you look someone right in the eye and lie to their face."

The man shook his head, making his hair bounce slightly from the movement. Jungkook knew he was right, he could tell the man was grasping at straws, trying to find something to get them out of this. "You don't have—"

"Two plus two is four," he reiterated, "and you didn't look at anyone."

"Holy shit," the left one said, looking between Jungkook and his partner.

But Jungkook wasn't done. "I'm even willing to bet that's how you've gotten most of your information," he continued, now giving equal attention to the pair. "You're honest with people right off the bat and it makes them trust you even as you're telling them you're going to screw them over. And you go back and forth between telling the truth and lying, but since you two work together they assume you're being just as straightforward as he is. It's a brilliant con: you just talk to people, and they don't even know what information they're giving up until you already have it."

The room was silent, and Jungkook tried hard to not be smug, but he was failing. "So, final question: Jimin-ssi," he looked left, "Taehyung-ssi," he looked right, "did I miss anything?"

The timer on the phone went off, signaling the end of the five allotted minutes.

"I am so fucking glad we kept him."

"You were ready to kill him three minutes ago."

Taehyung moved to turn it off, then leaned back in his chair with a boxy smile on his face, eyes still on Jungkook. "I told you."

"No, you fucking didn't," Jimin turned towards his friend. "You didn't even wanna show up and hear them out—bitch, I told you!"

Taehyung rolled his eyes, finally looking away from the boy in front of him. "Chim, I am not the bitch in this relationship, you and I both know that." Jimin lightly smacked his shoulder, then moved his gaze over Jungkook's head to address the men still standing in awe behind him.

"So when do we start, Romeo?"

⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟

The light switched on as the door opened, blinding you to whoever was coming in this time. You shielded your eyes, squinting to see who your visitors were. There were only two figures you could make out as your eyes adjusted, but you didn't need to see to know who one of them was.

"Rise and shine, little girl!" You hated him most of all. He was there that night, he shoved you into the back of the van there and after leaving your father's; he was the first to use you, to take you in this room, on this bed. He was a constant, just as the doctor and the other woman were. If he was here now, then you were going to be in for it.

"I've got someone special for you to meet," he continued. "Get up!" You didn't want to move, you never wanted to listen, but you also wanted to minimize whatever was going to happen to you. You slowly pushed yourself up into a sitting position. Your eyes had fully adjusted by now, but you kept your gaze down.

He grabbed your hair and pulled it back, forcing your head up. You hissed in pain but didn't fight it. "Aren't you gonna say hi?" he whispered in your ear.

You finally looked at the newcomer, expecting another man far older than you to be leering at you. It wasn't uncommon for new workers to be introduced to you, the free-use prisoner. But he didn't look much older than you did. He was smiling, but it wasn't the same one you were used to seeing. He almost looked kind.

You refused to believe it.

"This is Jackson," the man said, letting you go and walking back towards the door. "She's all yours," he snickered, then knocked on the door to be let out. You and Jackson only looked at each other. You were waiting for him to come over and do whatever he wanted, but he wasn't coming any closer.

"Hi," he said, giving you a small wave. "I'm Jackson, like he said." Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. No one ever tried making conversation with you. You were there to be used. "What's your name?" You didn't answer. You only stared at him, waiting. After a few moments, he nodded awkwardly. "Okay, I mean, I already know it, but I was hoping we could talk … Can I come closer?"

You stayed silent. You didn't understand what game he was playing, but you definitely didn't want to be a player. You just wanted this to get over with.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, Y/N," he told you, "I won't even touch you. That's not why I'm here." It was strange hearing your name. No one here used it; you had been reduced to little girl or baby, or some variant or combination of those. He took a few steps towards you, then sat down on the floor in front of the bed. "I know that's what you're expecting, if what the other guys told me is true?"

He almost sounded like he didn't want it to be true, that you weren't being kept here against your will and constantly degraded and defiled. You watched him watch you for another minute, then you gave him a small, slow nod, crossing your legs on the bed.

Jackson sighed. "Yeah, I'm not gonna do that. And I'm sorry that it's been happening to you." He looked sorry. He looked like he wanted to do something about it. You didn't want to get your hopes up but… maybe, maybe he wouldn't hurt you? Maybe he would be the first person here you didn't immediately despise.

You bit your lip, then whispered, "How long have I been here?" Jackson was surprised at your sudden willingness to speak to him, then he cringed.

"Um, I'm not really sure," he answered. "You've been here longer than me, that's for sure. I've only been here a week."

"What day is it?" you asked, determined to get at least one answer out of him. "What month?"

He leaned back a bit so he could pull his phone from his front pocket. He didn't unlock it but did turn the screen on and reached over to hand it to you. You didn't take it, too scared of any possible repercussions, but you did look around until you found today's date. A small breath escaped you as the screen went black again.

Nearly two years had gone by since that night. Two years since you had been with him, since you had heard their jokes and laughter and light-hearted insults. Your eyes stung from unshed tears. "I turned eighteen about two months ago," you whispered again.

"Oh, uh, congrats?" Jackson replied, sliding his phone back into his pocket. "Is that how long you've been here then?" You only shook your head; you couldn't speak around the lump forming in your throat. You never thought that much time had passed, you just existed in your timeless little bubble outside of the world.

You were wrong. Knowing how much time had passed was so much worse than remaining in ignorance. Two years. Eight seasons. Twenty-four months. If you wanted you could calculate how many days that was, how many hours or minutes. So many things could have changed, and probably did.

How long had you been here when he almost rescued you? How long has it been since then?

Does he even still remember you?

"So, how long have you been here?" Jackson asked, pulling you out of your spiraling thoughts. You swallowed hard before speaking.

"Just under two years."

"Two years?" he repeated in shock. "And they've been treating you like this the entire time?" You nodded, and he let out a breath. "Okay, look, um… My, uh, my sister was taken a few months back, and I've been trying to find her, that's why I'm here. It took me a solid month to get in, and I've only been here for a week, but… but I don't think she's here."

So that's why he was acting the way he was. Jackson really wasn't one of them. He really didn't want to hurt you. Maybe you really could trust him, a little bit, at least.

"If I'm being honest with myself, she's probably long gone by now, one way or another." He sounded so defeated, and when his eyes met yours, you could see sadness there, mixed with something else you couldn't quite place. "So, maybe I can help you instead."

"What do you mean?" you tentatively asked. There was only one way he could help you. Was he really talking about—

"I'll get you out." Your eyes widened at the words. "I can't do it immediately, or even soon. There are a lot of things to figure out and track and plan, it's gonna take a while. But I'll do it. I will get you out, I promise."

Promises didn't mean much of anything to you, not anymore, but you couldn't help the part of you that wanted to believe him, to believe that maybe there was finally a way out of this hell. You held eye contact with him, waiting for the mask to crack, for the hammer to drop and kill this hope in you before it got a chance to fully bloom.

"I mean it," Jackson insisted. "I know you don't believe me right now; I haven't given you much of a reason to, but hopefully you can decide to trust me." He stood up, brushing his pants off. "I'll come to see you when I can, and I'll give you updates on things, and… give you company of the non-malicious kind?"

You didn't respond, you weren't sure how to. You uncrossed your legs and pulled your knees towards your chest, wrapping your arms around them and resting your head there. Jackson watched, then gave you a nod and a smile. "I'll be back soon, okay?" He turned and made his way to the door.

"Jackson," you called right before he knocked on the door. He turned around and took a step back to you. You took a deep breath before continuing, "You really won't touch me?" Of all the things he'd told you, this was the one you needed reassurance of. Too many people here touched you, sexually and otherwise, and if he was going to come back you wanted this one thing he said to hold true.

He shook his head with the sweetest smile on his face. "No, not until you want me to." He knocked on the door, and it was pushed open for him. "I'll see you later, uh, babe." He cringed a bit at the word like he didn't want to use it, but he had a part to play when he wasn't alone with you. That didn't mean the word didn't make your skin crawl.

Jackson disappeared, the door closed, and the light was turned off. You fell sideways onto the bed, staring ahead in the darkness. Talking with him made your mind race in ways it hadn't in, well, years, you knew now; all the extra thinking was starting to give you a headache, and you just wanted to get some sleep. Your eyes closed, and as sleep began taking over you whispered a response to his departing words.

"I'm not your babe."

┈     ┈     ┈     ⋞ ⟨ ⏣ ⟩ ⋟     ┈     ┈     ┈ "Save me, oh, come save me, cause everybody's got a big debt to pay." ⋞ ⟨ ⏣ ⟩ ⋟

Four years...

Namjoon sat in his father's office, continuing to go through the paperwork of his operations. It had been a month since Yoongi put a bullet in his head, and nearly three since he'd done the same to your father. Getting the Kim family information wasn't awfully hard, Namjoon still had a lot of ties with his family's workers and a number of members were willing to switch at the knowledge of Namjoon coming to take over.

Finding information on your family was the hard part and had taken so long. Your father kept a tighter lid on everything he did than Namjoon expected, and the members of his gang were far more loyal if only out of fear. Rome wasn't built in a day, but it did burn down in a night, and even titans can fall. With the combined men, resources, and assets of the two families, Bangtan was officially able to form.

Originally, Namjoon was going to let the youngest three go. He had only hired Jimin and Taehyung to work for them until they could take down his father and yours, and now that that was done, they could go back to whatever they were doing before. And Namjoon still didn't want Jungkook anywhere near this life, despite his eagerness to contribute. Jungkook still reminded him a little too much of you, and he was worried that if the maknae got involved too much, something might happen to him. Namjoon couldn't live through that twice.

Jimin and Tae, however, adamantly told him they didn't want to go, and truth be told Namjoon didn't want to let them go. They were incredible and watching the way the two worked never failed to thrill Namjoon's over-analyzing mind. Jimin told him they had found a home and family with the five of them, and if they didn't have to leave then they weren't going to.

Jungkook naturally forced his way into things, taking full advantage of his hyungs' fondness for him. Namjoon relented all too easily in letting him officially join—on the condition that the maknae at least work with someone else in the group. Didn't matter who, he just couldn't be alone.

Over the years it had irritated all of them at his ability to pick up anything quickly and easily and to be a near expert at it almost right off the bat. Namjoon saw the usefulness of that specific skill (and would never admit that he was a little jealous of it himself).

Very few people were killed in the takeovers, too; Yoongi took care of the ones that needed to go. Jin and Hoseok vetted those who wanted to stay and work for them now, and those who wanted out—which was most of your father's people, truth be told—were let go without any repercussions.

So, with seven people running a gang, each taking their part to keep it up and running, and with the workforce and resources they've been needing for so long, Namjoon could finally, finally work on finding you.

Something your father said before his head exploded had stuck with Namjoon in all the wrong ways. He seemed to have accepted his demise—Namjoon supposed he had seen the end coming one way or another. It wasn't until Namjoon mentioned you that the bastard played the last piece he could.

"You'll never find her. I don’t even know why you'd want to. She should have two and a half kids by now, or maybe she's still just a cumdump trying to whore herself out—"

The gunshot didn't startle Namjoon, but he was a bit upset by its suddenness. Yoongi stepped out from the shadow of the bookshelf and slid the weapon back into his jacket pocket. "He had information we needed, hyung."

"Were you really going to sit there and let him talk about her like that?" Yoongi asked, stepping towards the body. "Cause I sure as fuck wasn't. Besides," he kicked at it until your father was rolled over face up, "he wasn't going to tell us anything. You and I both know that." Namjoon didn't like it when Yoongi was right.

She should have two and a half kids by now. That meant that you were still alive, somehow, somewhere, you had to be. Or, at least, your father still expected you to be alive. If he knew you were dead, he would've come out and said it. Right? Or would he still have alluded to you being alive and leading Namjoon on a wild goose chase? Namjoon's father would do something like that. Was yours any different?

Namjoon let out a sigh and put the paperwork down. The words were starting to blur together anyway. His father had taught him how to run the Kim gang, he was going to be the successor after all. But that was before he was kicked out and it had been quite a while since he'd really had to do this.

He stood up, deciding he needed a good stretch and a walk to clear his head. His mother had kept the gardens pristine, and he could use the fresh air. He glanced at the bookshelf and nearly passed it on his way out but backtracked for a moment.

The Complete Tales & Poems of Edgar Allen Poe stared back at him on the shelf. It was the only thing he took from your father's estate. He had indulged himself for only a moment and searched through the rooms until he found yours. Namjoon wasn't expecting to find anything, he just wanted a moment to feel close to you again.

Your childhood room wasn't anything special. Large and filled with all sorts of rich things that parents buy their children to make up for their neglect. The book was sitting on your nightstand like this was your chosen material to read before bed each night. To this day, he had no idea why you had had it. You never seemed like the type of person to be into the dark and macabre.

He had sat down on the edge of the pristinely made bed, not wanting to disturb anything too much, and gently picked the book up. You'd had a spot bookmarked with a red ribbon, and Namjoon let his curiosity get the best of him. Carefully he opened it and began reading:

It was many and many a year ago,

  In a kingdom by the sea,

That a maiden there lived whom you may know

  By the name of Annabel Lee;

And this maiden she lived with no other thought

  Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,

  In this kingdom by the sea,

But we loved with a love that was more than a love—

  I and my Annabel Lee—

With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven

  Coveted her and me.

Namjoon's brain had easily found the parallels between the poem and the two of you. But he hoped that your ending would be better than poor Annabel's. The book was the only thing he took from your bedroom.

In his father's office, Namjoon had placed it on the main bookshelf, and in a strange way, it fit right in with all the other books and binders his father had already filled the shelves with. Namjoon looked at the faded lettering on the spine for a moment, then continued his way out of the office to the gardens.

He made it about halfway down the staircase when his phone began ringing. Pulling it out of his pocket, he glanced at the caller ID and answered at the sight of Jimin's name. "Jimin? What's going on?"

The youngest three had gone out tonight. There was a high-end party being held in the southern districts of Seoul where a few rival gang members were meeting up, and it would be a perfect opportunity to start hunting for information on you.

Jimin was panting on the other side of the line. "Hyung, hyung—fuck—hyung, he's gone!"

Namjoon's heart stopped. His mind started playing back those same words but in his own voice. It couldn't be happening, not again. "What do you mean, he's gone?"

"We can't find Jungkook anywhere!" Jimin answered. "Tae's been calling him for the past half hour but it keeps going straight to voicemail and—"

"Chim!" Tae's voice came through faintly. "I found his phone smashed in the back alley. Jungkook's not just gone—"

"He was taken, shit!" Jimin took a deep breath. "Hyung, I'm sorry, god, I am so sorry."

But Namjoon wasn't listening anymore. He couldn't think, he could barely breathe. The only thing going through his head was not again.

Jungkook's gone.

Not again.

She's gone! Hyung, she's gone!

Not again.

Jungkook's gone.

⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟

Tomorrow.

That's what he told you, a secret whispered to you as close as you let him get to you. Tomorrow, he would get you out. However much longer that was you didn't know; you still had no way to tell time in your room. So you had to wait on him still, you had to trust in him, in the hope he was offering you.

You weren't sure which you were more frightened of: trusting Jackson or staying here any longer.

You slowly rocked back and forth on the bed, resisting the urge to think about what you would do once you were out. You weren't out yet and getting out still wasn't guaranteed. You didn't need your freedom to be dangled in front of you, just to be snatched away again.

So instead, you thought about all the things that could possibly go wrong in your little escape attempt (that you knew next to nothing of anyway) and what you might do in each scenario; and oh, were there so many different scenarios, different ways things could happen and you could react.

You played it out like a chess game in your head, something you hadn't done in years. Your move, their move, your reaction, their response. A small part of you would admit that you missed this, this kind of planning, of thinking ahead. You hadn't needed to do it in so long and giving your brain something to do besides go numb was a welcome change.

Even if there was a chance you wouldn't be able to do it for much longer.

Most of your endings involved both of your deaths – which would be a mercy for you at this point. Very few ended with you and Jackson actually making it out. Some ended with only one of you getting out. There were a lot of variables, a lot of things that could go wrong. It didn't help that Jackson didn't tell you anything.

You didn't get any sleep – not that you ever really did – you were too keyed up, too worried, and maybe even just a little too excited, even though you didn't want to be.

There was a soft knock on your door, just the faintest of rapping on the steel but it still echoed around the empty space. Your breath caught in your throat, eyes wide, as you watched it open slightly. Jackson's head poked through the opening.

Your heart rate picked up. "Here," he whispered, throwing a bag across the room at you. You reached out to catch it as he continued. "Get changed, then knock on the door when you're done. Hurry." He ducked back out, closing the door and flipping the light on for you. You shielded your eyes, waiting a bit for them to get used to the light before dumping the contents of the bag out.

You flushed at the sight of the new panties and bra that were at the top of the pile of clothes. At least he had the courtesy to make them as plain as possible. Underneath those were a simple white t-shirt, a pair of dark jeans, socks, and black sneakers with white laces – all of which were probably a bit too big for you but that didn't matter right now.

You pulled off your shirt and threw it on the bed, then dressed as quickly as you could. Putting the new clothes on, especially the underwear, filled you with a rush of relief and comfort. For the first time in years you were covered, and that's when it started hitting you.

You were getting out.

You tied the shoes, then glanced at the last few items on the bed: a large green jacket, a red baseball cap, and the shirt you just discarded. You set the cap on your head and put the jacket on but paused at your shirt. Well, not your shirt. His. You had managed to keep it in decent shape after all these years. You had managed to wait after all these years. You promised him you would wait.

He promised you he'd come back.

You couldn't wait any longer. But that didn't mean you could abandon him altogether. Taking a deep breath, you shoved the shirt into the bag Jackson gave you, then ran to the door, knocking on it just as lightly as Jackson had.

The light turned off, leaving you in darkness for only a second as the door opened. You moved out of the way, clutching the bag to your chest. Jackson waved you forward, and you took your first steps out of the room.

Jackson didn't give you a chance to look around though, grabbing your hand and pulling you away. "C'mon," he whispered, "I've got a car waiting but we have to go." He closed the door, locking it, and started racing down the corridor. You held onto him as tightly as he held onto you, the two of you sticking close to the walls and keeping your steps as quiet as possible.

You didn't bother keeping track of the turns he was making or the stairs you descended. You weren't going to need a mental map of this place again, not if you were successful. And if you weren't, there was little chance you'd be able to get out of the room again, never mind on your own. Surprisingly, there wasn't anyone on guard, or at least, there weren't any guards around where you were running. You wanted to ask how Jackson had pulled something like this off, but now was not the time for talking.

After a few minutes, he pulled you through a door, and you were hit by a blast of cool air. Fresh air. Your eyes widened as you looked up at the night sky. You couldn't see the stars, but the moon shone full and bright.

It had been so long.

Jackson kept pulling you along, urging you to keep going. You were outside, sure, but you weren't in the clear yet. There was a sleek black car waiting, running with its lights off. You pulled your hand out of Jackson's grasp and ran to the passenger side. The car was warm inside, and Jackson didn't waste any time putting it into gear and driving off.

"You thought of a name, right?" You nodded in response. He told you to come up with a fake name, something to use just in case someone was still looking for L/N Y/N. It hadn't taken you long to decide on one.

"Anna," you said, "Lee Anna." Jackson nodded his approval, then went quiet, focusing on the road. You turned to look out the window, eyes wide at the sights you had been denied for so long. A slow smile grew on your face the further and further away you got. You waited until you couldn't see the building anymore, and then you waited a few minutes more, before asking, "Where are we going?"

"Busan," came the answer. Your head snapped towards Jackson in shock. You were going South? Didn’t he know how dangerous that was? He glanced at you with a heavy, apologetic look. "We've got a lot of work to do."

┈     ┈     ┈     ⋞ ⟨ ⏣ ⟩ ⋟     ┈     ┈     ┈ "Now that I gave you what you want, all I want is to forget." ⋞ ⟨ ⏣ ⟩ ⋟

Eight years...

You ripped a part of the dead man's shirt off, using it to try and wipe his blood off you. You couldn't care less about the off-white cocktail dress you were in, now splattered with red, or that one of your silver heels was broken off the shoe and currently sticking out of his neck.

Tonight was supposed to be easy – your earlier kill (and actual target) had gone off without a hitch – but while waiting for the cab to take you back to the apartment, this drunk asshole just had to get too handsy with you. Not only did you ruin the dress (again, not that you cared, but Jackson would), but you also missed your cab, and Jackson was probably still pissed at you from earlier, so he wouldn't call another one for you.

Out of all the dangerous and stupid things you've done, walking home barefoot in a dress through downtown Busan in the middle of the night was probably near the top of that list.

You grabbed your jacket and hat off the ground, shook any dirt off them, and checked for any bloodstains. You had just cleaned the jacket and didn't want to spend the extra money at the dry cleaners again. Jackson would be annoyed if you told him it needed to get cleaned again so soon. It was fine though, so you quickly put it on and zipped it up, then fit the cap snuggly on your head.

You knew Busan like the back of your hand after all these years. Getting home would take a while, but it would be an easy trip so long as there weren't any more complications. Unfortunately, that also gave you time to think. You didn't like thinking. Your mind turned against itself when it wasn't occupied.

The ground was cold beneath your bare feet, and you focused on that. Kept your head down, watched where you were walking, avoided stepping on pebbles or the occasional shard of glass. Your mind kept wanting to go back to another night when you were barefoot on a sidewalk. It was the middle of the night then too.

Your hand clenched around the flip phone in your pocket. Maybe you should just call Jackson, tell him what happened, ask for another ride. Had you gotten into the cab, you probably would've been getting back around now. He would get even angrier if you were late and he hadn't heard from you.

Except you really weren't in the mood to be yelled at again. He yelled at you earlier, before you left, something about always dressing like you're going to fuck instead of kill. Well yeah, you told him, he's taking me out first, I can't show up in my ripped jeans and graphic tee, then he'll know something is up.

Busan and Seoul were entirely different scenes, but some things never changed: if the person you were hired to kill asked you out for dinner, you sure as fuck played into that. You'd get a free meal, and if you fluttered your lashes and smiled coyly enough, they'd take you back to their place, no doubt. The only thing different was in Seoul you didn't kill them until you were done fucking; in Busan, you pulled the trigger during foreplay. Maybe it was a bit brutal, but that's what Busan was. That was how you survived in the southern cities.

The Northern mafia scene was glitz and glam, knives hidden beneath lingerie, balls and galas, an unspoken set of rules and code of honor everyone followed. It was an elegant and deadly game of chess, where the pieces were real lives and you were playing several games at once, where making a move on one board changed things on ten others.

Things were darker in the south. Dirtier, more violent. The Southern scene was brass knuckles and spiked baseball bats and hitting below the belt. There were no rules; it was every gang for themselves, and problems were solved by gunfights in broad daylight. There was no class, no finesse—just kill or be killed, learn fast or die trying. You were lucky you were such a fast learner.

Crossover didn't happen often. You remembered your father explaining it to you, years ago: Southerners were too crass in their ways, immature in most cases. Cheaters and swindlers and conmen. People who never held up their end of the deal. Why bother with them when you could trade internationally, places like Japan and China, which were far more sophisticated than the toddlers who threw deadly tantrums when they didn't get exactly what they want.

Having lived in Busan for so long now, you knew what was said about the North. Uptight. Arrogant. Vain. More concerned with how they looked in the eyes of their peers. Thought they were better than everyone else just because their wealth and power were inherited, instead of working for it. Thought they were boring, too, whatever that meant.

Pride was all it really boiled down to. A bunch of old men too prideful to change their ways and a bunch of young men too prideful to shut up and listen. The real winners were the ones who managed to get the best of both worlds, but they were few and far between. If someone were to actually take over both the North and the South undergrounds, they'd have the entire country in their hands.

You had the feeling that Jackson wanted you two to be those lucky few, to do the impossible. If you cared more, if you weren't so tired, maybe you could. After all, he'd kept you alive and well this long. Surely, he had some other tricks up his sleeve.

A car pulled up next to you, and your frustration spiked again. You didn't expect anything less from the dark streets of Busan, but goddamn did you wish for just one peaceful night. You kept your pace even, ignoring the sound of a window rolling down.

"Hey baby!" The term made your skin crawl, brought back echoes of baby and babygirl and the phantom touches of hands that were far too rough on you. "Your boyfriend paid extra for me to come back and get you!" That got you to stop in your tracks and turn around. The cab driver had his head sticking out of the car and didn't even try to be sneaky about checking you out.

You arched your brow. "A lot of people claim to be my boyfriend, I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific than that." It was almost laughable how he thought you would fall for that. Then again, he said he had come back for you, and Jackson had an eerie way of knowing where you always were.

The driver smirked. "If you don't wanna go back to him, baby, I'll take you home with me. We could have more fun, I bet." You rolled your eyes so hard you were sure you got a glance at the inside of your skull. As if being with Jackson all the time was fun. Jackson kept you safe and got you jobs, and sometimes got you out of your own head, and that was it.

"What's the name of the guy who paid you?" You asked, not even remotely amused at his poor attempts at charming you. He checked you out again before answering.

"Jack-something?" You let out a sigh and opened the door to the backseat. Close enough. He still wasn't subtle as he drove, but at least he didn't try talking to you. You could enjoy the trip through the dark streets, grateful to watch the streetlights rush past you rather than walking beneath them.

The cab pulled up to the entrance of your apartment building, and you ignored the driver's last lewd comments of you sure you don't wanna come with me? You climbed out, shoes in hand, and made your way into the building.

This apartment had been a gift to you, a by-product of a job you'd done the previous year. For nearly eight months you had been undercover as a sugar baby for this CEO that a bunch of people wanted dead. The apartment came sometime around month five when he asked to go home with you for a change, and you showed him that small place you and Jackson had lived in since you'd first arrived in Busan.

On the next date, he brought you to this apartment building and handed you the key. Three months later when he was dead, Jackson finally moved back in with you, and the money you'd made from killing the guy more than covered rent for the next year. Jackson kept sending you on jobs, never wanting the money to run out, although he did give you a break after that one.

You pushed the elevator button, grateful that the door opened immediately. You hit the button for your floor and allowed yourself to rest against the wall. You had to mentally prepare yourself for whatever Jackson was gonna say or do once you got home and you weren't thrilled. You hoped that for once he would just let you shower and crash on the couch.

The elevator dinged as it reached your floor. The door opened and you pushed yourself off the wall. If you weren't so tired, if you cared more, maybe your heart would've dropped at the sight of Jackson waiting for you outside your apartment. But it wasn't really that surprising.

You unzipped your jacket and took your hat off, shaking your hair out. You felt rather than saw Jackson's eyes look over you as you walked down the hall.

"You've looked better," he said once you were within hearing distance. He pointed to your broken shoe. "Where's your heel?"

"In someone's jugular," you answered dryly, moving around him to get inside.

"So that's why you're late." He followed behind you, closing and locking the door. You went to the kitchen, threw your shoes in the trash, then tossed your hat and jacket onto the counter.

"What, did you think I finally got tired of your shit and left?"

"You couldn't survive without me," Jackson said, voice taking on that edge he had gained since coming to Busan four years ago. It was something you had become too familiar with, his harsh words in his dark voice. You couldn't remember exactly what caused it, you simply knew the Jackson you were dealing with now was not the Jackson you had first met.

You let out a sigh, giving up before the battle even started. "Goodnight Jackson." You side-stepped him again, aiming for the bathroom so you could finally try to relax. Jackson had other ideas, continuing to follow you.

"Babe—"

"I'm not your babe."

"You aren't still upset about earlier, are you?" He asked. "You know I say stupid shit when I get worried, it doesn't mean anything."

"And you know I don't like that word," you retorted.

"Babe?"

"'Whore'."

You turned the bathroom light on, not even bothering to try and shove him out. Jackson would give you space when he decided to give you space, not when you wanted it.

You hid a cringe at your appearance in the mirror. He was right, you really had looked better. Jackson leaned against the doorway.

"It didn't mean anything," he insisted again. "I was just worried, and upset because you weren't listening to me, again." He sighed and ran a hand over his face like he was the one who was tired of your shit. "You're making this a bigger deal than it is."

It's not a big deal. It doesn't mean anything. You aren't seeing things right. You've heard it all before. They were things he said after every argument you had with him, every fight you started. You had lost track of how many things were your fault over the years.

You pulled your hair up into a loose ponytail, just to keep it out of the way as you began washing your face. You just wanted to get the makeup and blood off your skin, get out of the dress, and crash on your couch. You heard Jackson move behind you, coming closer, as you dried your face and arms.

"You're thinking too much," he said quietly, almost gently in your ear. He slowly started trailing his fingers up and down your sides. "Again," he added.

"No, Jackson," you told him, but you didn't try to move or push him away. You knew this game well enough: you could say no and push him away all you wanted – Jackson pushed back just as much until you said yes. "Enough people have tried touching me tonight."

"Yeah, but they did it wrong," he replied, not stopping his ministrations. "They were probably too rough with you, too dirty." He moved to the other side of your head, voice dropping down. "They don't know you the way I do."

You hated this.

"I'm tired, Jackson."

You. Hated. This.

"You know you sleep better after."

You hated that he was always right.

"You're thinking too much," Jackson repeated. His hands were firmer now, pressing you against him. "Let me help you stop."

You hated that it always worked.

You turned around in his hold – not because you wanted to give in, but because you couldn't bear to see that empty look in your eyes reflected back at you any longer.

You were thinking too much.

You removed one of his hands but intertwined your fingers.

You were so tired.

You moved away from him but pulled him along down the hall.

You wanted to stop.

You walked into your dark bedroom and led him to the couch you didn't sleep on.

Jackson smirked. He won again.

You hated yourself.

┈     ┈     ┈     ⋞ ⟨ ⏣ ⟩ ⋟     ┈     ┈     ┈ "Like a heartbeat drives you mad in the stillness of remembering what you had and what you lost." ⋞ ⟨ ⏣ ⟩ ⋟

Ten years...

You dug your nails into your palm as you stepped off the train. It had been six years since you set foot in Seoul, ten since you last walked around freely. If you were being honest with yourself, well, you couldn't be honest with yourself. You had no idea if you wanted to be back in the city, or if you never wanted to see it again. Part of you wanted to jump onto the train going back to Busan, part of you wanted to make your way to the airport and get out of this country entirely, and part of you wanted to see if you could find that small basement apartment hidden behind a maze of alleyways.

Part of you wanted to throw yourself onto the train tracks and just end this now.

You kept your head down as you made your way out of the train station. Seoul wasn't Busan, but you'd spent enough time there that trying to seem inconspicuous was ingrained into your very being. You were so focused on keeping your head down, on trying to stay hidden, you stopped paying attention to your surroundings – and where other people were.

You bumped into another person, someone hurrying to catch their train no doubt. You glanced up quickly, then looked away before he could get a good look at you, mumbled out a fast "sorry" and moved around him and the woman he was with, going on your way. You didn't notice that he looked back at your retreating figure—

 —wondering if he'd seen you before.

"Anyway," Jimin said, turning his attention back to the woman with a smile. "Heeseung will be with you on the train from here to Incheon Airport, then he'll pass you off to Jay, who will help you get on your flight. He'll also have the documents for you to start over in Germany."

"Thank you so much," she said, tears starting to well up in her eyes. "You have no idea—this means so much to me. Thank you."

Jimin smiled gently and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "This is what we do. You'll be safe from now on. Just make sure to text me when you land in Frankfurt." She nodded furiously, swiping at the few tears that managed to escape. From the corner of his eye, he saw Heeseung approaching them, and without much fanfare handed her off to the man. They exchanged a nod, then Jimin turned and started heading back to the parking lot. He pulled his phone out—

 —as it buzzed with a message, and you tentatively opened it to see who it was from. Jackson probably knew by now that you had left him, and you were dreading the endless calls you would no doubt be getting from him soon. Instead, thankfully, it was a message from the unsaved number you had been communicating with.

Tonight. 8pm. Money's waiting for you.

That gave you an hour and a half. The next message to come in contained the address for the meeting place. You flipped your phone closed and shoved it back into your jacket pocket, perhaps a bit harsher than needed. An hour and a half wouldn't be too bad, but you were still worried.

You knew coming back to Seoul would bring back those memories. You didn't know if you would be able to handle it. But this job – sketchy as it sounded when you were approached about it a few days ago – was too good to pass up. Even if it meant ditching Jackson in Busan. Even if it ended up being a scam. Even if you had to deal with the source of your traumas.

You only had to wait a few minutes before you caught a cab, grateful that the driver wouldn't try hitting on you for once. You gave him the address you were sent and closed—

 —the door. "How'd it go with Chim?" Hoseok asked. He didn't look up from his laptop, continuing to clack away as Jin quickly settled into his seat.

The eldest adjusted his suit as the car started forward. "Just got off the phone with him. She's been passed off to our Enhypen unit and so far, things are going smoothly."

"I'll keep close in touch with Jungwon and Sunghoon then," the hacker replied, "and the intel?"

"Tonight, 7:30, at that new French place." He took a deep breath before his next sentence. "It's Kookie's turn." That got Hoseok to stop typing and meet his gaze. Jin imagined they had the same cautious look in their eyes.

"This time of year?" Hoseok whispered, even though the driver couldn't hear through the window separating the front from the back. "Are you sure?" Jin reluctantly nodded.

"V went last time, and Chim can't go, he's already been tagged." He let out a sigh. Getting Namjoon to agree was going to be nigh impossible. For as serious as the mafia boss was, his emotions always spiked around August and September, and Jungkook was his unspoken favorite for reasons no one brought up.

Hoseok huffed out a breath of his own, going back to whatever he was doing on his computer. "I'm not telling him." Jin didn't bother hiding his eye roll.

"Of course you're not," he said, practically scoffing. "Suga and I are the only ones who have the balls to tell him Kook is going out—"

 "—for dinner around here?" You asked the driver as you were dropped off a few blocks away from your destination. "It's been a while since I've been in Seoul, and things have definitely changed." He directed you to a tteok-bokki stand close by that was just about to close for the night.

"It's a bit pricy but definitely worth it!" You gave him a friendly smile in thanks – at least you hoped it was friendly – and paid him before climbing out. Someone pushed you out of their way, making you stumble forward, as they took your place in the cab. He drove off quickly, barely giving you a chance to glare at whatever hurried person you were unfortunate enough to encounter.

You shook it off though, things were still far better here than in Busan, so you adjusted your hat and tucked your hands into your pockets as you started towards the food stand. You hadn't eaten since you left yours and Jackson's apartment, and you'd rather not have your stomach rumbling in the middle of your meeting.

The wait for the food wasn't bad, the various scents around making your stomach clench in anticipation. Jackson rarely let you eat out unless you could con it out of a job, but neither of you were the best cooks either, so food was simplified down to whatever could be microwaved or eaten straight out of the fridge.

The hot nearly homemade food in your hands and the cooler evening air took you back, back farther than your memories usually went. Pleasant laughter echoed through your mind, words and conversations long forgotten playing back like static. You couldn't recall whose voice belonged to whom, you could hardly picture their smiling faces, but you remembered warm meals every week and endless teasing and being yelled at about sitting on the counter. You remembered feeling safe and happy and loved.

Your appetite shrunk as your heart dropped, and you looked at the tteok-bokki with a pang of sadness and resentment the simple rice dish didn't deserve. You forced yourself to—

 —take a few bites, trying to ignore how Taehyung was watching him like a hawk. Namjoon knew why Jin had given the task to the younger, he could be scarily persuasive when he needed to be, but it didn't mean it didn't bother the leader to no end. He knew he got 'bad' around this time of year, he knew he closed himself off more than usual, but having at least one member keep an eye on him at all times could be classified as overkill.

"You're doing so good, hyung," Tae said with a flat voice, looking up from the fashion magazine laying on the counter. It took everything in Namjoon to not throw his fork at him.

"Don't patronize me, Taehyung." The leader's voice was low and would have been terrifying in any other context, but Jin had threatened his wrath to fall upon Tae should Namjoon not eat today, and there were things in the world that were scarier than Namjoon (albeit very few of them).

Tae returned his attention to the magazine. "Jin-hyung said, come hell or high water, you need to eat a real meal today. And since I was the only one who wasn't doing anything today, I get to make sure you do." He gave the leader a pointed look as he turned the page.

Namjoon simply groaned, dropping his head into his empty hand as he stabbed a few more noodles onto his fork. "I am a grown-ass man. I can take care of myself."

"We're all grown-ass men, and we all take care of each other, whether we like it or not." Another page turned as Namjoon took another bite. "Oh, honey, that clutch in that color? Ew." Tae turned the page a little too aggressively to get away from the offensive sight. "Besides, Jin-hyung said he had not-great news and you're less cranky after you've eaten."

Namjoon knew the younger could feel his glare. If looks could kill, Namjoon was sure between him and Yoongi half the country would be six feet under by now. Taehyung wasn't fazed though; he never was in casual settings. "What kind of 'not-great news'?" The only answer he got was a nonchalant shrug as the younger picked up the magazine and walked—

 —around aimlessly, trying to keep yourself from getting too lost. You still had quite a bit of time to kill, so you spent it trying to refamiliarize yourself with the city you had long left behind.

The thing about walking through Seoul was this: everything was the same, and everything was different. Everything was bright and shiny and new, and yet it felt like things had never changed. You felt like you were simultaneously blending in and sticking out. You had never walked down these exact streets, but you had walked down so many others so long ago that it still felt like you were walking through the past.

Ten years had passed, yet you still felt like that same 16-year-old who had run away from her life to find another, better one. Then again, ten years later you were a 26-year-old running away from her life to find another, better one. So maybe you hadn't changed that much at all.

Tired of walking, tired of remembering, tired of feeling so goddamned tired, you leaned against one of the shop buildings, deciding to take a break and maybe just wait it out here until you needed to get to your meeting. If you were going to get lost in your head anyway, you might as well keep yourself stationary.

You wished you would lose track of time, but you kept checking your phone every few minutes, scared to get too caught up and end up being late. You should've been paying a bit more attention to what was around you, something you realized when you were harshly pulled backward, and a hand tightened—

 —his tie, straightening it out and brushing his hair away from his forehead. Namjoon's only condition for Jungkook going on the job was that one of them dropped him off and picked him up. So, Yoongi was driving him to the restaurant, and Jin and Namjoon would be standing by to pick him up afterward. Jimin and Tae were close by as well, ready to intervene if necessary, and Hoseok had everyone hooked up with earpieces on a secure line.

"You look just fine, Kook-ah," Yoongi said quietly. "It's not like this is a date."

"The guy thinks it's a date though," Jungkook responded cheekily. "I don't want him to be entirely disappointed when I show up instead."

"You've been hanging out with Jimin-ah too much," Hoseok's voice came over the earpiece, and Jungkook could hear his smile.

"Hey!"

The maknae snickered, and he caught the smallest hint of a smirk on his hyung's face as he drove. He lived for moments like that, where Jungkook could see the smallest hint of happiness on any of his hyungs faces, especially right now. It was a little over ten years ago that you were taken, and it always hit the four oldest hard. The youngest did what he could, but he never felt like it was enough.

He dreamed about what it would be like to find you. To tell you that Namjoon was still waiting for you, to tell Namjoon that you were finally coming back. To see the two of you throw yourselves into each other. To see Namjoon be genuinely happy again.

That was all Jungkook really wanted.

So he looked for you everywhere, even when he wasn't really supposed to. He watched out the windows as they drove throughout the city, as he walked through the streets and alleyways, he even searched during his downtime. He had become almost as obsessed with you as Namjoon was himself. He'd had a lot of wrong calls in his years of knowing about you, but it never got him down. If anything, it made him more eager to find you.

"Alright Kook," Jin spoke up, "one more time." The youngest repeated everything he had been told in the briefing, by both Jin and Jimin. It was supposed to be an easy in and out: show up, strike the deal, get away.

The client was expecting the woman Jimin had so carefully sent away earlier – she was probably a part of the deal as well. He would probably be upset when he saw Jungkook instead of her, but they were confident they could get him to make the deal with Bangtan. Song didn't need any more assistance in the North.

Yoongi pulled over just a couple of blocks away from the restaurant. "Keep your earpiece on this time," he admonished the maknae before Jungkook climbed out. He nodded shyly, then closed the door and cracked his—

 —neck, letting the now-lifeless body drop. You weren't surprised that something like that happened, but you were a little disappointed. Seoul was supposedly better than Busan, the North was supposedly better than the South; but dark alleys were still dark alleys, and dark men still had a thing for young, pretty, innocent girls.

It was a shame you weren't so innocent anymore.

You dragged him deeper into the alleyway, closer to the dumpster that was there. A few strategically placed empty beer bottles later, and suddenly the murder was a drunken accident. A humorless chuckle left you – you had been in Seoul for how long? And someone was already dead.

You quickly left the alley and began making your way towards the meeting place. The evening had nearly shifted fully into night now, the street lights turning on as people still shuffled about, racing to dinner reservations and shopping sales. The darkening daylight meant you needed to look up now to see where you were going instead of keeping your head down. The risk this brought about was accidentally making eye contact with someone, or rather, accidentally making eye contact with the wrong person.

Today just wasn't your day, it seemed, as a few minutes into your trek you glanced to your left, right as a man in a three-piece suit glanced to his right. Your eyes widened as they met innocent-looking doe ones, which widened of their own accord as they looked at you. You quickly averted your gaze and picked up your pace. You knew him.

Well, not really, but you knew of him. Bunny Boy, they called him, The Golden Maknae. The youngest underground boxer the South had ever seen, who just up and disappeared one day. How many people in Busan had tried hiring you to find him, dead or alive? Sure, the pictures they had shown you were outdated, showing you a much younger version, but if they were aged up there was no doubt about it. You weaved your way through the crowd, hoping to lose him.

What was he doing here? If he had been in Seoul since he disappeared from Busan all those years ago, it would explain why no one could ever find him. You knew a thing or two about that. How did he even make it up here? Did he recognize you? Was he after you too, the way you had been after him in Busan? You risked a small glance over your shoulder and caught him trying to follow you.

You finally ducked into yet another alleyway, pressing yourself up to the wall as much as you could. You let out a sigh before steeling your nerves. He was here for you, you just knew it, and you wanted to know why. You waited for your moment to strike—

Jungkook did a double-take.

Jinagada/지나가다: “it passes” holy fucking shit, has it been a while. i don’t even know what to say anymore. thank you so much for sticking around and holding out for this one, and if you’re new here, welcome! Thank you so much for your patience with me!!! this chapter was a labor of love (and of hate), so thank you thank you thank you for sticking around and reading it. please please please let me know what you think - i thrive off of your reactions and what you loved and hated and felt so please don't be scared to share!! i love you guys so so so much. AND since this chapter was basically the length of a fic, i have created a playlist specifically for this chapter, you can find it here on spotify and youtube, and i’ve listed the songs below as well. the next chapter should be coming soon!! thank you again lovlies!! Super special thank you to my (not so tiny anymore) taglist! Let me know if you want to be added and subsequently become a Cool Kid™️  @illnevertrustmyselfagain @misschino @youlook-likehell @dany-but-not-targaryen @nyx-goddess-of-choas @fangirl125reader @wordsaremyswords @clowdyblue @tutnotmytea @scentedsope @hope122598 @veronawrites @ayoongiverse @myooniverse @jiminrings @milady-mira @cafemyg @lolalee24 @elyte @hyungieyoongi @singukieee @hello-neema @thebadassmotherofmyshotas @kawaii-bear @fangirl-and-stuff​@notsooperfect @mintyoonjisworld @glams00 @thisisnotangel @dprssdgal @irony-of-living @jayhopely @remmykinsff @gukieater @cherrie11113 @lovra974 @girlwithluv0613 @whatsakilo @yoursoontobestepmom @juju-227592 @zahraaelamira @xyahrinx @belladaises @jaiuneamesolitaiire @lookhere-2seok @imnotokayfuckup @rjsmochii  "the decade" playlist: that night: "your star" ~ evanescence three months: "when the dark falls" ~ the never ending six months: "i was so sure" ~ mnthl one year: "spring day" ~ bts two years: "courtesy call" ~ thousand foot krutch four years: "big bad wolf" ~ roses & revolutions eight years: "give you what you like" ~ avril lavigne ten years: "dreams" ~ gabrielle aplin & bastille (original by fleetwood mac)

[looooooooomis]

F I N A L  G I R L |  S E V E N

You were his final girl. And there was no chance in hell that anyone or anything was going to mess that up.

p a r t   s e v e n |  b l o o d

masterlist here

pairing: Billy Loomis x f!reader word count: 6k warnings: s m u t (18 +!!!!!) lets just say this gif is a teaser as to what takes place in this chapter. major blood kink in this chapter. period play?? lmao sorry about it.

There was a shift after that weekend at Billy’s cabin, and you knew he felt it too.

It was never really that casual between you and Billy, that much you knew, but there was something that changed when the two of you got back to Woodsboro. There was something to be said about being able to openly show affection to the person you loved, to hold them and kiss them in public and you’d gotten that treatment in that little lakeside town. You felt like Billy’s actual girlfriend, not his plaything, not the bitch who was backstabbing her own best friend for a fucking boy, you were it.

And while Billy had always said that you were his girl, you hadn’t truly felt like you were until now.

Which was precisely what made tonight so fucking awkward.

Not only had you been coerced into going to the movies with the gang but, unbeknownst to you, Sid had taken it upon herself to fix you up on a blind date with one of Randy���s annoying friends from the video store.

Why had you agreed to this? You were a cold, calculating bitch behind the scenes when it came to fucking your best friend boyfriend and yet saying ‘no thanks, I’m not up for it tonight’ was beyond you? Were you just plain stupid or a closet masochist that thrived on dicey situations?

Either way, you’d never wanted to throw yourself into oncoming traffic more than you did tonight because not only were you trapped into an uncomfortable blind date with a guy you were fairly sure was frothing at the mouth at the idea of getting you alone in the car after all of this was said and done but you just so happened to be seated directly next to Billy.

You were smack dab in the middle of hell. Between a man you were fucking, a man you were disgustingly in love with and had just spent a weekend away with and a man you’d just met today but couldn’t stop playing handsy on your lap whenever he thought the others weren’t looking.

But Billy was always looking.

You knew that better than anyone. He had this innate sense of finding you in a crowded room. You could feel the weight of his brown eyes on you nearly every second of the day, soaking you up, taking every inch of you in, no matter who was around and tonight, as your ‘date’ smacked on his popcorn all the while feeling your thigh up any chance he could, Billy’s dept stare was tuned in and you knew it.

This had to have been karma. Karma for going away and having a beautiful weekend away with the guy you loved so wholly. The one whose girlfriend was on the other side of him with her pretty head on his stupid shoulder as you suffered in silence at just how fucking laughable this entire situation was.

“See that actress?” Your date, Anthony, whispered into your hear. He smelled like movie theatre butter. You wanted to scream. “Have you seen any of her other stuff?”

You were watching The Crucible and the actress in question was Winona Ryder. Everyone and their left nut had seen Winona Ryder in at least a dozen movies. Frowning, you blinked across at the man and blinked. “Yeah. I’m familiar with her work.”

Focusing ahead on the movie, you tried your damnedest to focus on what was going on but when you felt his slithery palm slide up your thigh, you were this close to pouring your Coke on his lap. Why the fuck had you agreed to this?

Pushing the man’s hand away as subtly as you could to avoid any unwanted attention from your friends, you bit down on the side of your mouth and heaved a quiet sigh. You deserved this. This was your punishment.

“She’s hot.” Your lovely date quipped, squeezing the area of your thigh just above your knee. “In that goth-girl next door kind of way.”

Was he getting off to Winona Ryder all the while coming on to you? Was he picturing Winona as he squeezed your thigh? You truly didn’t want to find out. Once again, you pushed his hand away and, this time, crossed your legs and leaned into the arm rest you were sharing with Billy.

The move was subtle, and you were barely even touching Billy but you needed to create a distance between yourself and Butter Fingers if it was the last thing you did.

With a subtle nudge to your arm, Billy’s eyes flickered towards you as his brows furrowed in question. The muscle in his jaw was pulsing in his cheek, that you could see even in the darkness of the movie theatre, and there was murder in his eyes as he sized up the man just over your shoulder. It was as though you could feel his blood pressure spike just looking at the guy and, as you held your breath, silently pleading with him not to make a scene that would undoubtedly give the two of you up, those brown eyes slowly found yours.

There was anger in his eyes, a palpable rage, but it was the look of pure despondency in his stare that made your own heart break. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. He wasn’t supposed to be holding hands with Sid and you weren’t meant to be dealing with the idiot to your right.

How it felt up at the cabin, the freedom of loving each other and holding each other and kissing each other in broad daylight was how it was supposed to be. How love was supposed to feel.

Not this.

You were both hiding in plain sight. Putting on a façade to your friends, to each other whilst in public, and it was in that moment, in the middle of a crowded theatre, looking at each other knowing there wasn’t a damn thing either of you could do about it, that you felt that pain so intensely that it was hard to breathe.

Tears burned behind your eyes and you hated yourself for it.

You weren’t going to cry. You refused to cry over a situation you were willingly putting yourself in. This entire thing could have been avoided had you had a stronger backbone here. You weren’t the victim in this scenario. That was Sid. Sid was the one completely getting fucked over in this situation, not you. You had no damn right to feel this shitty because you were doing it to yourself.

This was just the high of the weekend wearing off and reality settling in. Until circumstances changed, this was your norm.

Swallowing back your nerves, it was all you could do to give Billy a small, barely-there smile before focusing ahead on the movie.

“I’m going to grab us another Coke,” you heard Billy say to Sidney. “Anyone want anything?”

“More popcorn,” Stu waggled his empty bag. “Maybe some Milk Duds, man.”

“Candy.” Tatum mumbled, not taking her eyes off of the screen. “Surprise me, I don’t care what kind.”

Billy nodded and took Stu’s money before he gently nudged you. “You want anything?”

You opened your mouth to speak but was cut off but Anthony. “You mind keeping it down, buddy?” He popped another handful of popcorn in his mouth. “We’re at the movies, not here for snacks.”

It was as though Billy’s wrath was physical as his dark eyes scraped over Anthony’s face. His mouth was pulled into a thin, hard line as Anthony’s pompousness sank in. Why couldn’t it be Randy beside you? Why had that dipshit agreed to take this asshole’s shift in order for you to go on a blind date with him? This entire fiasco could have been avoided had it been Randy.

“Yeah, I could use a drink.” You slinked out of your seat. “I’ll help you carry everything back.”

You didn’t wait for Billy as you marched down the aisle but, as you walked down the stairs and out of the theatre, you weren’t at all surprised to see him broody and annoyed as he followed you out.

“If anyone should be looking like that, it’s me,” you groused, falling in to step beside him as you made your way to the snack bar. “I’m stuck on a date with that asshole.”

“Don’t get me started on that,” he grumbled, grabbing his wallet out of his back pocket. “I told Sid to leave well enough alone, but she insisted.”

You hummed and lined up at the concession. “Lucky me.”

Again, you felt his stare before you actually lulled your head to the side to face him. Intense, searching eyes sweeping over your features in both concern and possible envy. “One word,” he muttered, stepping closer towards you. Too close. Not because you didn’t want him that close but because you were in public. Sid and Tatum and Stu and fucking Anthony were a stone’s throw away. “One word from you, baby, and I’ll take you home. Fuck that guy.”

You glowered across at him as though he’d grown a second head. “While I appreciate the sentiment, shit for brains, we’re in public right now. Your girlfriend could walk out any second and see or hear you.”

He seemed to mull over your words for a second but didn’t bother moving away from you. “Maybe I don’t care.”

“You do,” you rhymed off, shuffling closer to the front of the snack bar.

He ignored that. “Also, you’re my girlfriend. Stop calling her that.”

This was not a conversation the two of you should have been having in the middle of a fucking movie theatre. Looking across at him, you raised your brows and blew out a puff of air through your lips. Trying to keep up with Billy’s rationale of staying with Sid to ensure he doesn’t hurt her any further after her mother’s death all the while being with you was giving you whiplash. You knew he loved you and, begrudgingly, you loved him right back. And, a part of you knew, that he was struggling with being back in the real world just as much as you were since coming home from the cabin.

But this was not how he should have been handling it. Not out in the open like this. Especially while you were on a triple date with your friends in a theatre down the hall.

“Billy,” you muttered quietly, ensuring no one was listening in, “please let’s talk about this later. Not here. Not now. Let’s just get the fucking concessions and go, okay?”

He licked his lips and you watched his brown eyes flitter down your face before briefly looking at your own lips. He wanted to kiss you and fuck, did you want to be kissed by him.

But that wasn’t the deal.

So, instead, you watched as he took a hesitant step away from you before nodding his head once. “Yeah, okay,” he agreed, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked down at his shoes. “Tonight.”

“Sure,” you smirked, “I mean, if I’m not with Anthony, that is.” You almost laughed at how wide his eyes got as you uttered those words. But, when he saw the playfulness in your stare, he visibly relaxed and rolled his eyes as you continued. “The way he’s been mowing down on his popcorn all night has me wet as hell, so I might be busy with him later.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled with a shake of his head. Then, he turned to you and gave you a crooked smile. One that almost made this horrific ordeal worth it. “You’re a real bitch when you want to be, you know that?”

“Yeah,” you laughed, nudging him with your elbow. “I’ve been told.”

------------

True to his word, Billy slipped in through your unlocked window a little after midnight that evening with a bag of stale licorice and a drink he’d swiped from the gas station on the way over to your house.

“We didn’t get our movie date.” Was his explanation as he popped The Lost Boys into your VCR and all but hopped in bed beside you. When you’d remained standing by your dresser, eyeing him with both curiosity and sheer happiness radiating off of your face, all you got was a confused look out of Billy before he patted your mattress. “You going to get that ass over here or what?”

So, naturally, you’d joined him.

And it took all of thirty-two minutes of watching the film for the two of you to end up pawing at one another as the tension of the day slowly peeled off of you with every layer of clothing the two of you tore off one another.

In no time, you were both stark naked on your bed as The Lost Boys played on without an audience. All Billy cared about watching was you. Watching you writhe and moan. He could watch you do just about anything, but it was that dreamy look you got on your face whenever he touched you that he had imprinted into his skull. It didn’t even have to be sexual. You just had a certain look whenever the two of you connected, one that he felt but managed to keep stowed away inside of him, but one you expressed. It was happiness.

Pure, unadulterated, bliss.

He knew you. Knew your body in and out, knew how to get you to come undone, knew what made you tick, what made you squirm.

You were muscle memory to him, at this point.

He knew you better than he knew himself.

Which is why, when you subtly stopped him from slipping his fingers inside of you, that Billy’s focus went to your ass. The only time you pushed his hand away after he’d spent minutes sucking and biting and focusing on those perfect tits, was when you were on your period.

So, he didn’t push it.

The two of you had fucked a few times whilst you were on it but you were deadest on limiting that to the lighter days. The very beginning or the end. Never in the middle. But god, did he want to experience the middle days.

You were so fucking horny when you were on your period and why you thought he’d give a shit about how much blood came out of you as the two of you fucked was beyond him.

So, he’d focus on your ass. Something that drove you to the brink of insanity and something that made him harder than anything.

But tonight, it wasn’t enough.

He needed all of you.

Ever since the cabin, he’d needed more of you in his life. It had become nearly impossible for him to show any iota of affection for Sid now that he’d had a taste of what life felt like with you at his side. You were his Final Girl. His everything, if he was being completely honest. And, while he knew he couldn’t open himself up to you to that extent, not yet, he needed you to feel that raging darkness inside of him. Not too much of it, but just enough to gauge your reaction.

If you could handle a shred of it, maybe he could share more of himself with you.

The darker parts.

His hands stilled as they trailed down your body and, as he hovered over you, he bit his lip and slowly drew tiny circles into your hips. “You’re on your period, right?”

You nodded, your lips swollen from the amount of kissing having gone on since popping the movie in. “Yeah, but it’s not a light day.”

He nodded in understanding as he bit his lip. “You think we could try it, anyway?”

Your eyebrows raised in mild amusement. “By not a light day, I mean its kind of heavy, Billy. It’d look like a crime scene in here.”

Billy made sure to keep his face stoic, but the idea of the two of you fucking whilst covered in blood was nearly enough to make him come on the spot.

“Aren’t you curious?” He asked, dipping his head down to lick your painfully hard nipple. “It’s got to feel so fucking good, right?”

You ran your fingers through his hair and sighed in contentment when he began to suck your tit again. “It’s messy, though.”

“Lucky for you,” he released your nipple and kissed the sensitive flesh of your breast. “I like messy.”

Your head flopped back against the pillow as you thought over his request. I did feel good, but did you want Billy to have to witness you cleaning up a fucking homicide scene once he was through with you?

Blowing out a quiet raspberry, you eyed him with mock suspicion before he gave you those goddamn puppy dog eyes. “Ugh,” you groaned with a laugh, “fine. Let me take this fucking tampon out and I’ll grab a towel to put underneath me because it is heavy, and you will be grossed out.”

Billy’s cock twitched as he watched you roll out of bed before disappearing in the bathroom. Within a few moments, he heard the toilet flush and the sink run before you re-emerged with a towel in hand.

He could watch you parade around like that all day. Naked, eyes hooded from desire, nipples and lips red from where his mouth had staked its claim.

You were perfect.

A vision.

You were fucking everything.

“I’ve been wanting to try this with you for a while.” He admitted, watching you carefully roll the towel onto the bed before perching your ass directly on top of it so as to avoid any potential leakage onto your sheets.

“I wish I could say I was shocked.” You teased, laying back down. Spreading your legs, he watched you slip a finger through your folds to tease your clit.  

He swallowed as he watched you finger yourself. But then your words sank in and a panic settled in his chest as he swept his eyes up your body to meet your amused stare. “What’s that mean?”

You shrugged so casually as you continued the tirade on your own pussy. “All the scary movies we watch and stuff. You get hard as a rock if there’s a scene with a pretty girl and some blood.”

Billy froze. This was only supposed to be a peek inside of his darkness, not a full-blown window. But you didn’t seem all too fazed by it either, which confused him endlessly.

Rather than deny it, Billy hesitantly reached for your cunt to replace your fingers with his own. He didn’t delve inside of your pussy just yet, just circled your clit the way you’d been doing seconds prior. “And that doesn’t bother you?” He whispered, placing a kiss to the side of your neck.

“Nah,” you hummed, “we’ve all got our kinks, I guess.”

You released a quiet moan as he pinched your clit, but his eyes never left your face. He knew you were talking about blood in respect to the movies, but your casual tone still caught him off guard. There was no shame in it, no doubt. Just an honest to god shrug as he circled your clit with his middle finger.

Testing the waters, Billy slipped his fingers down your pussy so that his thumb coaxed your clit as he slipped two fingers inside of you. At first, it simply felt like you were soaked on account of all of the teasing and, maybe you were, but as he glanced down at the base of his fingers as he pulled them out of you, Billy nearly moaned.

Blood.

Your blood.

All over his fingers, pooling along the top of his palm.

Billy was fascinated. This wasn’t the first time he’d felt blood between his fingers, but not like this. When he’d killed Maureen Prescott, there was so much fucking blood that he’d been sick afterwards. He hadn’t expected that level of destruction but, after puking a few blocks away, he didn’t exactly shy away from it. He thought about it often, thought of the carnage that had surrounded him once he’d finished with Sidney’s mother, thought of the way the blood felt between his fingers, splayed and smattered across every inch of his body.

But this was euphoric.

Because he didn’t have to hurt anybody to feel that warmth on his palm. In fact, as he slowly slipped his fingers inside of your hot cunt, he was doing anything but. You were gyrating into his hand, unknowingly spreading your blood further and it was killing him. He was so fucking hard, too fucking hard, but he didn’t want to rush a damned thing.

He’d thought about this far too often for it to be over so soon.

“Fuck,” he whispered, slipping his hand out of your pussy just long enough to slowly spread your blood down your inner thigh. It left a fine red trail that he had every intention of lapping up in a few seconds if you were to allow it. “You feel so good, baby.”

He’d half expected you to make a comment about making a bigger mess than what your piddly little towel would allow but, as he slowly found your hooded eyes through the dim light of your bedroom, only hunger marred your pretty face.

Desire.

Intrigue.

Leaning in, Billy placed a small kiss to the apple of your cheek as his fingers continued to fuck you. “Does this feel good?”

“So good,” you rasped out, leaning your forehead against his as you bit your lip to swallow back a moan. Between your arousal and the blood, the natural lubrication that coated your pussy as he slowly pumped his fingers inside of you all the while rubbing your clit was killing you. “So fucking good, Billy.”

He smirked and quickened his pace on your clit just enough to drive you to madness as he bit down on your earlobe. His breath was hot against your cheek. “I want to taste you tonight.”

Though the promise of his tongue replacing his thumb enticed you, the fact that you were on day two and a half of your period was not a good plan. So why were you intrigued? A part of you wanted to see if he’d put his money where his mouth was but a much larger part of you wanted to see how feral Billy could get where you were concerned.

Torn, you pulled back and searched his eyes. “It’s going to be…messy, Billy.”

His dark chuckle was velvet against your skin. “I already told you,” he curled his fingers inside of you and admired the way your entire body twitched. “I like messy.”

He began to kiss his way down your body. You tried not to get lost in the feeling of his tongue swirling across every inch of your skin on his way down or the way his teeth nipped and bit at your stomach and hips as he positioned himself between your thighs. But mainly, you tried not to focus on how fucking bloody it was between your thighs because you knew that Billy wouldn’t be down there long on account of it.

“You don’t have to do this tonight, Billy,” you tried to reason, chest heaving in anticipation as he settled between your legs.

Something flashed across his face as he held your stare. For a second, you were almost sure he was going to back out and leave well enough alone, but then you watched as the bastard leaned into your pussy and raked his tongue from the base of your pussy right up to your bloodied mound.

He held your stare the entire time.

“I want you like this,” he assured you, yanking you further down the bed so that you were right at the edge. His voice was hoarse and breathy and as you chanced a look down at him through a pair of hooded, drowsy eyes, you watched him pump his cock with his free hand as he licked his lips. “I love you like this.”

You opened your mouth to respond but the words died in your throat when he buried his face between your thighs. You gasped at the contact but didn’t shy away from his touch for a single second as he slowly lapped at your core. With the one hand still gripping your hips, holding you firmly against his tongue, you knew there would be bruises where his fingers carved into your flesh, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He was desperate to get you closer into his face and you were desperate to feel that perfect fucking tongue on your pussy.

It was as though he’d been possessed in those few moments. Billy couldn’t get enough of you on a good day but tasting you like this was enough to make Billy wild. Your pussy, the blood mixed with your slick, tasted so fucking good on his tongue. Burying his face further into your folds, he nuzzled at your clit and, now forgetting about his own pulsing cock, pulled you even closer.

Throwing your legs over his shoulders, Billy moaned into your pussy and bit down on your clit just enough to entice a moan that was probably a little too loud for your parents being home. But, he didn’t care. He refused to care in that instance.

All he wanted, all he cared about, was tasting as much of you as humanly possible before making you come on his tongue.

His name tore out of your throat as you gripped his hair between your fingers and pulled. You were being rougher than normal, and he fucking loved it. You were pulling on his hair and bucking into his mouth with such hunger that he could barely breathe but fuck he didn’t care. If this was how he was taken out, so be it.

“Baby,” you whined, voice low. “Fuck, I’m going to come.”

Your grip on his hair was vice-like as the veins in your neck swelled. With wild, laboured breaths, you found yourself bucking into his mouth as a white-hot orgasm rippled through your entire body. You moaned and groaned and cursed into the bed, but Billy’s mouth was relentless.

It wasn’t until he was absolutely sure you couldn’t take another second of torture, that he pulled away and allowed you to collapse back onto the bed. Your cheeks were flushed, and your lips were parted as you attempted to catch your breath. With a quiet chuckle, he kissed his way up your body, grinning against your skin as your legs continued to twitch.

He could feel your blood all over his chin and nose and as he licked it off, using his fingers to swipe at the areas his tongue couldn’t quite reach, Billy was coasting on a high that only you could provide.

“Oh, god,” you buried your face into the pillow with a quiet laugh as you moved to get off the bed. “Hang on, I’ll grab you a towel for your face.”

“No,” Billy shook his head and grabbed for your wrist. “I want to see it.”

You blinked and scraped your eyes along his bloodied face. Your nipples were still rock hard and your cunt was still pulsing on account of his tongue, but it was the look of pure ecstasy on his face that made you clench.

He was being serious.

“Come with me,” he hummed, slipping off of the bed to head towards the small bathroom attached to your room. His fingers threaded through yours as you both walked across your bedroom before flicking the light on.

The vision that he was met with made his cock twitch.

Your blood coated almost everything from his nose down his chin and as you stood beside him, looking at him through the mirror, still fully naked and still housing bloody handprints left behind from his busy hands coating the lower half of your body, Billy had never wanted to bury himself inside of you any more than he did right then and there.

He found your curious stare through the mirror. Your pretty eyes swept over the mess of blood left behind on account of you and as you turned to face him, he found himself hypnotized as you reached out to sweep his hair back and away from his forehead.

“Blood suits you,” you teased with a small smile. “Horrifically enough.”

He said nothing as those brown eyes soaked you in but as he stepped into you, cornering you against the sink counter, the look on his face said everything. He didn’t kiss you though. He seemed to hesitate, as though gauging if you’d kiss him whilst covered in your own menstrual blood. “Is this okay?”

“I don’t know.” You admitted almost sheepishly.

He nuzzled your neck and slipped his knee between your thighs to allow himself better access to your pussy. With his hand wrapped securely around his cock, he slipped the head of his dick along your folds and swallowed hard as he watched your blood coat the head of it. “Fuck,” he whispered as his forehead fell against your own. “You’re going to make me come before I’m even inside of you.”

You were watching his face as he once again slipped the head of his cock through your folds so it teased your clit. His eyes were so dark and there was so much desire in those warm eyes that it almost caught you off guard.

“You’re really into this,” you remarked quietly. When his eyes found yours, you could see blind panic cross over his face as he instinctually took a step away from you. You stopped him before he could think of stopping himself. “Hey,” you cooed, reaching out for his face. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing, relax.”

You felt the tension in his shoulders disperse as you played with the curls at the nape of his neck. “You’re too good for me,” he muttered, cradling your face. “You know that?”

“Oh, yeah,” you goaded with a smile. “I know.”

He barked out a quiet laugh and ground his hips into yours. “A smartass, too.”

You hummed as his hands slid down your body to hold you against the counter. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Anything.” Billy nipped at your neck.

You leaned back to allow him full access to your neck. “How did I taste?” Your words seemed to make him still as he slowly pulled back to search your eyes. “With the blood. How did it taste?”

The look on Billy’s face was primal as his grip on your hips tightened. Leaning in, he nudged your nose so that your lips were perfectly aligned with his. “Kiss me and find out.”

You weren’t sure at first, but as he closed the distance between you, you found yourself leaning into the kiss both curious and slightly mortified by the taste of your blood on his lips. It was strange and you weren’t sure if you liked it at first, if you were being honest. It was coppery and a little sticky and yet as he walked the two of you out of the bathroom and back towards your bed, you found yourself hungry for more.

With your fingers tangled through his hair you gave it a tug, garnering a low growl that rumbled in his throat as he continued on with the bruising kiss. When the back of his knees hit your bed, the two of you fell into a jumbled mess on your mattress, never once breaking for air as your tongues battled for dominance.

Expertly, knowing the way your body moved better than anyone, Billy moved you in such a way that he was sitting up in the middle of your bed as you straddled his lap. And as you lowered yourself onto his pulsing cock, the gruff low moan that tore out of his lips was enough to kill you.

His large hands splayed out across your back, guiding you further into his hungry mouth as your bleeding cunt teased him beyond belief. You were so wet and with every twist of your hips and every gentle moan, he was finding it harder and harder to concentrate on anything else besides just how fucking good you felt.

Digging your nails into his shoulders, blood slowly pooled in the wake of your crescent moon shaped nail markings. He hissed at the sensation and squeezed your tits rather roughly as he tried to stop himself from coming right then and there.

But then you lowered your lips onto his shoulders and he felt your hot tongue trace over every last cut and he almost lost it. There you were, with dried blood all over your chin and parts of your cheeks from having kissed him after going down on you, licking the blood that gathered along his shoulders.

He was in a state of euphoria.

“You are so fucking gorgeous.” He pushed out, revelling in the feel of how warm and wet your pussy felt.

Rather than say a word, all you did was bite down on the reddened area of his shoulder as you quickened your pace on his dick.

Drawing more blood.

Licking up more of his blood.

Something in him snapped to life in that instance. An almost ancient need bubbled to the surface as he held you there against him. Your tits bounced as you writhed on top of him and as he began to meet you halfway with violent, earth shattering thrusts, the outside world ceased to exist.

The sound of his balls hitting your sopping pussy combined with the sound of your wetness, both slick and blood, squelching all around the two of you was all that surrounded you as you whined out his name. You could barely breathe as he pounded into you, barely function.

“Billy, fuck, I—”

His mouth buried your words with another hungry kiss. You were both breathless and desperate to be as close to the other as humanly possible as you sat on your bed, fucking each other raw. His tongue slid along your bottom lip, gently tugging at it as his forehead fell against your own.

There was a shift after the cabin that you’d both felt inside of you, but there was a shift in the air tonight, as well. An unspoken trust, of sorts, that went beyond anything the two of you were prepared for.  

His hips bucked into yours one final time before he came undone inside of you. A flood of warmth settled in your belly as he came and as his thumb continued to circle your clit, rubbing and pinching at it every step of the way, you soon followed suit.

With one last shaky pump, Billy held you there as he slowly pulled out of you. He kissed your lips, your cheek, down your neck, and along your shoulder before his eyes found yours once again.

His thumb skirted across the apple of your cheek. “You’re my girl,” he whispered, revelling in just how fucking gorgeous you looked in that instance. “You know that?”

“I do,” you affirmed, kissing him softly. “You’re helping me clean my fucking bedsheets in the morning,” you muttered, “do you know that?”

Despite everything, Billy found himself smiling across at you before glancing down at the bloody mess of your sheets. “Yeah,” he chuckled, “I do.”

“Good,” you gently smacked his cheek and crawled off of your bed towards the bathroom.

“Where you going?” He asked, watching your naked body pad out of the room.

“Shower,” you merely said before popping your head around the corner. “Care to join me?”

Billy was at your side within the blink of an eye.

hehehehehehehe let me know if yall like it 

[atlabeth]

nightmares - mike munroe x reader

summary: It was a deal made by two almost-friends in the early hours of the morning after the worst night of their lives, when they realized that all they really had left was each other.

a/n: so this is once again. not my normal content but ive been on an until dawn kick lately and fell in love w the characters all over again. i dont know if anyone still reads or writes for this fandom but. here u go. enjoy

warning(s): lots of cursing, canon typical violence, mentions of graphic violence/death (but nothing too descriptive), mentioned depression, insomnia, and alcoholism, some heavy themes but its hurt/comfort so it ends in fluff

wc: 4.8k

You were running.

You were running, and it was freezing — fuck, it was freezing.

You knew your surroundings; how could you ever forget? Every fucking moment on the goddamn mountain was engraved into your mind for what you assumed would be the rest of your life, an assumption that had since been proven correct.

And now, against your will, you were back. Of course you were back.

A shudder ran through your whole body as that all-too-familiar screech rang out behind you, each second of it like nails on a chalkboard in the worst way. Your lungs burned like all hell but you couldn’t stop — if you stopped, you were as good as dead.

Some part of this fucked up thing was almost funny. Humans were always boasting about how they were the top of the food chain, how they were the height of evolution. There was nothing to keep an ego in check like being hunted by a supernatural creature.

Any thoughts of bullshit philosophy were dashed from your mind as you took a hard right, nearly falling over from the sharp curve of the mountain but just able to catch yourself. Your heart was thundering in your chest, the beats nearly lining up with your sprinting. You felt an intense urge to turn around, try and gauge your chances, but the thought of slowing down for even a second terrified you. It’s not like you needed to anyways — you knew exactly what was after you.

You were nearing the end of your road, both literally and figuratively. You stumbled over a tree root, your hands splayed out in front of yourself at just the right angle to keep your momentum going and, in some feat of luck, stay upright and running.

But your luck had just run out.

Your senses were proven correct as the harrowing cliff edge came into view, and a thousand things screamed in your mind at once as your demise stared you right in the eye. You barely managed to catch yourself, very much aware that the snow falling into the void could’ve just as well been you.

That fucking screech again, even closer than before, and you whipped around as you took an instinctive step back. Your hands patted around everywhere, searching for something to defend yourself, but you had nothing. No gun, knife, even the ground around you was devoid of rocks.

You had nothing. You had nothing to defend yourself from this goddamn nightmare creature, and you were going to die.

Your eyes darted around wildly in an attempt to find something, anything, to save yourself, but there was nothing. You took another step back and felt your foot slip, your breath catching as you barely managed to save yourself with a twist and a lunge away from the edge. The shock of the ground and the cold against your skin was just enough to remind yourself that you were actually alive. Another pile of snow mimicked the fate that seemed imminent as it trickled over the side of the cliff, and you screwed your eyes shut as you tried to shut your mind up.

Think, goddammit, if you wanted to get off of this fucking mountain you had to think—

The screech that pierced through the night sky was far too close for comfort, and as your head snapped back towards the woods you swore that your heart stopped beating.

It had caught up. You were out of time you were going to die but you didn’t have anything and you were going to fucking die—

A flash of white pushed off a tree and lunged towards you, teeth bared as it emitted that horrible screech. You didn’t even have time to scream, completely frozen in place as one clawed hand reached your neck, and you braced for the moment of release.

You shot up in your bed, breathing rapid and unsteady with a barely contained cry on the edge of your lips as your hand instinctively flew to your neck. You heaved an almost strangled sigh of relief to know that your head was still attached to your body (it might’ve seemed obvious, but… your head wasn’t exactly on straight at the moment, all jokes aside) and collapsed against the headboard.

You ran your hands across your face as you tried in vain to calm yourself down, ultimately having to turn on your lamp to ease your troubled mind that there was nothing going thump in the night.

It had been this same routine almost every night — horrible nightmare, wake up crying or screaming or both, and start the day at 3 am because you couldn’t fall back asleep.

It was exhausting. You were exhausted.

You knew you couldn’t go on like this, but what choice did you have? Therapy had been mandated by the police for a certain amount of time after the incident, but… it’s not like it had helped. How could it, when no one truly knew what you had gone through?

Well… that wasn’t completely accurate.

One person knew what you were going through, and you hadn’t said as much as one word to him since that night. You didn’t really… know what to say.

Hey. I know we’re not all that close, but I’m sorry your girlfriend and all your friends were killed by a Wendigo and that I made it instead. Hope you’re not going insane with grief. I’ll send you a card at Christmas!

...yeah. You had no idea what to say to him after months of no contact.

The relationship you had with Mike Munroe was a strange one, to say the least.

None of you were the same after that night on the mountain. The horrors of the mines would be forever entrenched in your head, flashes of the Wendigos appearing every time you closed your eyes. You and Mike were the only ones who made it off, and the guilt you carried everywhere was a burden you knew you couldn’t shoulder. And even after the physical scars had faded, you knew the mental ones never would.

Sometimes you wondered how you had even managed to get involved with the group in the first place — bonds that had been made in your freshman and sophomore years had somehow managed to stay strong enough throughout the rest of high school, strong enough to cement your spot in the friend group and the yearly lodge visits. You liked them all well enough, enough to go up to an isolated mountain with them for a weekend or so, but… yeah. Sometimes you did wonder what the hell you were doing with them.

But now?

Now, you would give almost anything to hear Sam’s laugh or one of her compliments, or tease Ashley and Chris about their very obvious feelings; hell, you found yourself missing Matt’s useless football facts. And even though Emily and Jessica weren’t always the nicest, you still had managed to worm your way into their hearts. Knowing that you would never get Emily’s brutal but helpful advice or get dragged to a football game by Jessica again?

If someone had told you the difference between life-long trauma and a completely normal existence was that blonde girl with the braids in your biology class, you might’ve thought a little harder before accepting that party invite.

The days after you were rescued from the mountain passed in a daze, questions and interrogations from police never sticking for too long. And it didn’t even feel like it mattered, the way none of them seemed to believe you.

They kept you separated from Mike throughout the whole process, and you were only able to catch glances of him when you were being transferred to different rooms throughout the long process. It really was like something out of a horror movie — a group of teens go up to a lodge in the woods, and only two return with a story of unspeakable horrors — and rather than try and work out what had happened, they seemed intent on pinning the deaths on you and Mike.

As if you weren’t dealing with enough after watching your friends get murdered by the monster of another friend, the people that were supposed to be helping you were instead trying to charge you with them. If it wasn’t so fucking infuriating, it would’ve been laughable.

The worst part? You could hardly blame them.

When you took a second to listen to yourself, to what you were spouting to the police, you sounded insane. If you hadn’t witnessed it all first hand, you wouldn’t have believed yourself.

You told them to go down to the mines. That the thing that killed your friends would be down there, and they could see it for themselves.

You didn’t know if that was the right choice. Hell, you might’ve been sending those cops to their deaths. But it was the only way you could think of to get them to believe you.

(You doubted they would go down there anyways. What was the word of two crazy college kids over actual logic? Not much, you imagined.)

You were in that damn interrogation room for what felt like forever until you were finally taken to a hospital to get your wounds treated. But even in the hospital bed, police were by your side asking about what happened every day of your stay. After your discharge, you were forced into custody until they got information that they deemed satisfactory.

By some miracle, you and Mike weren’t charged with anything. The news might’ve gotten hold of your story, but you didn’t know. You didn’t want to know. You didn’t ever look at the news after the tragedy, too afraid that you would see the smiling faces of your friends staring back at you, or pictures of you and Mike with news anchors trying to talk about how involved the two of you were.

If there was one thing worse than going through hell, it was other people trying to make a profit off of your spiral.

Your friends’ families offered their condolences, but not much else. You didn’t hold it against them. Your survivor’s guilt was strong enough to know exactly why they didn’t reach out further.

(You blame yourself for their deaths, after all. Why wouldn’t they?)

It was the same situation with Mike.

Maybe you had purposefully drifted apart from him, trying to build up walls of your own so that he wouldn’t be able to spring it on you first. You assumed he hated you after what had happened, and he had every right to. You might’ve helped each other through the night, but you had no other option. Now, everyone else but you was dead — people he cared about more than you — and you just couldn’t face that.

But as you stared at yourself in your bathroom mirror, you realized that you might have to.

You looked awful.

Weeks of sleepless nights were catching up to you, appearing in the form of

hollow eyes and dark circles, along with a slight discoloration of your skin. The scars from the mountain had mostly healed, but there was a particularly nasty gash on your cheek that was still showing — it wasn’t doing you any favors in the ‘looking completely normal and sane and not severely sleep deprived’ department.

You splashed some water in your face to try and wake up a bit, but the slight drowsiness that followed you everywhere seemed to be a permanent part of you now.

(It was almost funny, in a way. You were so paranoid and alert all the time, unable to fall asleep, and yet it was all you could think about in moments like these. You wondered when irony had become such a staple in your life.)

You had tried talking to therapists, your friends, your family, even searching the internet for advice on what to do after a life changing traumatic event. Nothing had worked.

The simplest solution had come to mind more than once, but you had pushed it aside with the determination to work through this on your own. But now, staring at yourself and seeing how much you had deteriorated…

You had to go talk to the only person who would understand.

~

You had considered turning around more than once on the drive over.

Because, really, what the hell were you doing? Showing up at his doorstep in the middle of o dark thirty because— because what?

Because you had a nightmare?

He had gone through the same thing you had, probably even worse. Losing Jessica right in front of him, having to cut off his fingers to get free, spending countless hours alone, dealing with the nightmare that was the sanatorium, and then…

Well, you had been in the mines with him and Josh when it happened. There was no doubt in your mind that the scene replayed in his head endlessly, just like it did for you.

Showing up… it was going to be a mistake. You knew it was.

For all you knew, Mike had moved on already. He was stronger than you, he always had been. Maybe your presence would send him spiraling once more, or maybe it would just earn you a verbal beating like no other. Mike had always been nice enough, but the trauma you had endured was enough to turn a saint into his own worst enemy.

You didn’t know what would happen. You didn’t know anything, and as you turned down his street you regretted more than ever not keeping in touch with him. Maybe then you wouldn’t be in this situation, scrambling after your last hope for salvation after slowly killing yourself over the past few months.

But there was no chance to turn back now, because before you knew it your knuckles were rapping against his front door.

The pause between your arrival and a response was so long that you considered leaving and pretending like this never happened, but just as you began to step back the door swung open.

You didn’t really know what you were expecting, but… he was there. The only other testament to the horrors of Blackwood Pines, and maybe the only person that could help you through this.

“...hi,” you murmured, swallowing the sudden lump in your throat as you looked the personification of your shame in the eye.

Mike blinked a few times, whether to try and wake up a little or out of surprise from his visitor you didn’t know, but it was a few seconds before he responded in kind. “...hey. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you around.”

You chuckled dryly as you nodded. “Yeah. Sorry for the sudden arrival. I’m, uh… I’m kind of surprised you even opened the door.”

He huffed out a short breath in a facsimile of a laugh. “Not getting much sleep these days.”

“That’s something we’ve got in common.” You crossed your arms across your chest and let out a loose sigh, eyes wandering around in an attempt to think of what to say next. It should’ve been so easy, but… but for some reason, it just wasn’t.

“Guess so.” That awkward silence stretched out once more, neither of you knowing how to fill it. Thankfully, Mike continued to take the plunge, but it wasn’t without a slight barb. “What are you doing here?”

“I—” you stopped just as you had begun, because you really didn’t know. You had come here for help, but could Mike really do that for you? He was the same as you — a fucked up teenager trying to deal with something so far beyond him.

“I don’t know,” you admitted as you made eye contact once more. “I… I really don’t know. I’m out of options, and… I can’t keep going like this. So I came here to talk, or— or to try and get some help. I don’t know.”

That same silence filled the air once more, the night ambiance the only thing in between the two of you. You missed when that silence used to be comfortable, but… you could only blame yourself for it.

“So— so, what?” he asked, the beginnings of a frown starting to crease his brows. “You just— we go through all that together up there, and then when we get back down you don’t say a word for months. And now— now, out of nowhere, in the middle of the night, you just show up and ask for help?”

“God,” you muttered. When he put it that way, it was true. It was ridiculous, to expect his help after the way you had just left him to deal with it all on his own for a reason borne of your own insecurity. “You’re right. This was— this was stupid. I’m sorry.”

You had already turned to go when you felt a calloused hand on your shoulder, causing you to stop in your tracks.

“No.” His voice was surprisingly soft as he sighed, stepping back with a shake of his head to make room in the doorway. “No, I—” Mike paused for a moment, as if he couldn’t find the right words to say. “I’m sorry. You can come in. Obviously, you can come in.”

Your eyes widened slightly as you tried to hide your shock at the gesture, but you weren’t about to turn it down. You nodded, and he stepped aside to make space for you to walk in. When you did, you were met with a mess not unlike the one back at your apartment, save for the beer bottles. Clothes were strewn about haphazardly on every surface, so you took a seat on a clean spot on the floor, leaning back against a chair and pulling your knees up to your chest. You actually preferred it this way — it was grounding, in a literal sense. Mike pushed aside a laundry basket and did the same, but pulled one leg up and let the other lay extended.

“Why?” he asked suddenly, breaking the silence that had been accumulating once more. “Why did you just…” he gestured around with his hands to try and get his point across but ultimately settled with a sigh. “You didn’t say anything. You didn’t try to text, or call, or write, or— or anything. Hell, I would’ve probably jumped to get a messenger pigeon from you. But it was just… radio silence.”

You picked at the dry skin on your thumbs as you tried to come up with an answer. “I… I don’t know,” you repeated. “It was stupid, and it was horrible of me to leave you alone. I mean… I don’t know why I did it. I know what I’ve been going through, and I know you’ve been going through the same. So I don’t know why I didn’t try to reach out and see how you were doing.”

He chuckled mirthlessly as his eyes swept over the empty bottles that had accumulated on the coffee table. “I’m not the best with alone.”

“I know,” you said quietly. “I thought…” you shook your head as you looked at the ceiling. “I thought that you hated me. I know that you cared about them all more, you were closer to all of them, and… and I thought you wouldn’t want anything to do with me. That I would just always be a reminder of what you lost. And… and, I don’t know. Maybe it was my way of trying to move on. Was a stupid fucking idea, though.”

That got a genuine laugh out of him as he ran a hand through his hair. “I guess I get that. I dunno why I didn’t try to talk to you either. Maybe since you didn’t say anything, I didn’t want to either. This whole thing fucked me up.” His gaze moved to you. “Fucked us both up.”

“You can say that again,” you muttered as you tapped your fingers on your knees. “I can’t look anywhere without seeing them. I mean, I see that fucking…” you grimaced. “I see Josh, and I see what that thing did to him, and I just— I’m right back to step one.”

He swallowed hard and nodded. “...yeah. That was seven layers of fucked up.”

“You can’t just keep saying everything was fucked up,” you said dryly. “It was shitty, too.”

Mike snorted, some kind of slightly masochistic humor going on between the two of you. “Nothing really gets the point across like fucked up.”

“Guess you’re right,” you finally conceded with a small smile. “This is… this is nice. I’d almost forgotten what it was like to… I don’t know, to talk to someone like this.”

“It is,” he murmured.

Another pregnant pause hung in the air, but the silence wasn’t as uncomfortable now. Trickles of what it used to be like, of your old life, were beginning to poke through.

“I never hated you,” he said suddenly. Your eyes flicked up to meet his, and it was like his brown eyes were piercing through you as he continued. “I never did. After it happened… yeah, I was mad. I was fucking pissed, but it was never at you. You were my friend too, y’know? Even though we weren’t that close, we were still… we were still something. And I’m glad you made it. I just wish you hadn’t convinced yourself that you had to go through this alone. Maybe things would’ve turned out different, these past few months. For both of us.”

You nodded, choosing to avert eye contact first because you almost couldn’t handle the sincerity. Your heart sank a bit at the sight of all the beer bottles, and you knew that he was right. Maybe things would’ve been different if the two of you had weathered it together from the start. And so you said that.

“I still can’t help but feel like I’m to blame for—” you gestured around at the mess with a sigh, “for this.”

“Look.” His voice was raspy as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair, and as he met your eyes once more you were able to see how truly exhausted he was. With dark circles that matched your own, scars that were still healing, and a certain hollowness behind his eyes… It was like looking in a mirror. And it made you realize how fucked up the two of you had really become.

Mike had always been good at holding himself together, putting up his signature egotistical-douchebag-jock act in the face of anything that threatened to tear him down, and more often than not he came out victorious. But not even class presidents were immune to the horrors that they had faced, and it was taking more of a toll on him than you had realized.

“It’s not your fault. You— you did everything you could; I know I’m still alive because of you. Besides, we were idiot teenagers — we still are — and none of them deserved to die because of it. Not Hannah, not Beth, not any of them.” Mike shook his head and sighed. “Not even Josh. Man was fucked up even before all of this, but he didn’t deserve what happened to him. He needed help, but instead he got his fucking… god. I can’t even say it. But he didn’t deserve it.”

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, the subconscious process having stopped because of the weight of his words. It was cliche, but you didn’t know how much you needed to hear those four words: it’s not your fault.

“Maybe you should be my therapist,” you joked weakly. But as you let your eyes trail back to Mike you bit your lip. He hadn’t included himself in that statement, and it wasn’t too hard to figure out why.

“Mike… it wasn’t your fault either. You’re not just saying bullshit to try and make yourself feel better, it really wasn’t your fault. What do they say? ‘Getting through your guilt is the first step to recovery’ or some shit? You deserve to be here just as much as I do.”

“But it was,” he insisted. “It’s easy for you to say that. You tried to stop it, I… I just went along with it. Fuck, I started it all. Hannah and Beth went missing because of me, Josh went out of his fuckin’ mind, and if he hadn’t brought us all back up there for his revenge plot then they wouldn’t have died. How is it not my fault? Why do I get to live when all of them died because of me?”

“Mike,” you sighed. “I… I don’t know. I don’t know why we made it back when none of them did, but it’s not your fucking fault, okay? You— yeah, that prank was fucking stupid, but— but how could you know what was going to happen?” You huffed a laugh that was only slightly unhinged. “People pull pranks all the time. Native American legend cannibal spirit things don’t try to kill people all the time. You can’t keep blaming yourself. It’s not going to help them, and it’s not going to help you.”

That silence stretched out once more as he took in your words. You didn’t know if he believed them or not, but you did. That had to be worth something, right?

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” he muttered, breaking the silence once more. “And I… I don’t know. I don’t know why it took almost fucking dying from those goddamn things, a— and seeing what happened to all of them...”

“I don’t know,” he repeated, leaning back against the foot of the sofa. “All the shit that happened, all of them dying — I don’t know how long it’ll take until we’re okay again. Hell, I don’t even know if we ever will be okay again. What happened up there was fucked up in the worst way, and the fact that no one believes us makes it a hell of a lot worse.”

You chuckled darkly as you cupped one hand in the other. “You can say that again.”

His lips twitched for a moment as if he wanted to smile but ultimately thought better of it. “I know we aren’t that close anymore, but the truth is we’re the only ones on this fuckin’ planet that know what really happened up there. We’re the only ones that will ever really understand what happened to us, and… and I think we’re the only ones that can really help each other through this shit.”

He met your eyes once more, something resolute in them. “So the next time this happens, because it will, if you don’t want to be alone… you can come here. Any time, any day, no questions asked. Just knock on that door, and I will be there. No more isolation, no more trying to get through this on our own. We gotta be there for each other, because we’re all we have.”

You nodded gratefully, a feeling of warmth slowly creeping through your body with his reassurance. “Thank you, Mike. You… you have no idea what this means to me.”

“I think I have some clue,” he murmured.

As you exchanged weary smiles, you saw a faint twinkle in Mike’s eyes. He was always the kind of person to help others, even if it was for the wrong reasons, and that was one thing that stuck with him after the disaster. And in that moment, a long lost feeling washed over you — safety.

You hadn’t felt safe in… well, it seemed like forever. Adrenaline and pure instinct were responsible for getting you through those twelve hours, along with an overwhelming wave of numbness and denial. But once all of that wore off, the nightmares had begun. Your friends, the Wendigos, the mountain itself — anything and everything that your mind could use against you, it did.

It was a living hell. You could hardly ever sleep anymore, horrific images always jolting you awake after an hour or two and keeping you awake for the rest of the day. It was no wonder Mike had ended up with a drinking problem — it was probably the only way he could sleep, the only way he could bring some form of peace to his mind. By some miracle, you had avoided that fate, but… you would be lying if you said you hadn’t come close.

But somehow, for some reason, you could tell that things were going to be different. Now that you and Mike weren’t avoiding each other anymore in the name of painful memories… you felt like things were going to be okay. Or as close to okay as you could get these days.

You weren’t alone, and neither was he.

He had saved your life on the mountain more than once. Now, he was saving you again. Just in a different way.

-

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77

ud tags: @kwyloz

[guaxinimraccoon]

jesus christ why-

oh mY DEAR GOD-

FIRST OF ALL I'm SO sorry for taking so damn long to answer those, I've been really really busy and I'm very sorry, I'm doing my best to answer everybody ; o ;

BUT FINALLY let's talk about our big last Euphoria reveal (about four months ago but ok-), where I showed you guys that Alex is Brad's father and Elisa is Toby's mom.

"BUT GUAX WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK??? HOW?? WHEN??? WHERE??"

SHUSH , CALM YOUR TITS DOWN and let me explain:

Ok, so I'll be putting some links here and there because yes, Alex and Elisa's story is very, VERY connected to Brad and Toby's. 

And get ready for a veeeeeeeeeeeeery long post. You were warned.

As you all already know, Alex and Elisa had a troublesome meeting, but eventually got closer to each other, they fell in love yadda yadda yadda BUT their will to get closer to each other, in other words, their relationship brought HUGE consequences.

Yes, they did manage to build a healthy relationship, they were happy, they were fine.

But they were also adults, adults that wanted something serious and concrete, they couldn't spend the rest of their lives as forbbiden lovers.

So Elisa did something literally illegal. She did a potion that was forbidden by the Colony authorities - a shrunken potion - to get closer to Alex.

Those potions were never developed, they're rustic and really antique, so they could do more harm than good or not work at all.

But Alex didn't care, he took the risk and drank the potion to get closer to his girl, the woman that was the love of his life.

The effect of the potion is temporary, so Alex would drink them from time to time whenever he had the opportunity to visit the Colony, spend some time with Elisa and, of course, be a part of her life.

He wasn't just trying to "be like her", he was also trying to be a part of her home. He made friends with her friends, he met her family, he met new imps, new fairies, all of it under his "imp disguise". He even fought for the Colony at it's war times (that is lasting till the current story time). He EVEN presented himself with a more “impish name” - Turk - to make sure people wouldn’t suspect anything.

Of course, people eventually started to ask why didn’t he live in the Colony with Elisa, why did he only showed up from time to time. Alex and Elisa lied, obviously, they told everyone that Alex belonged to a secluded imp tribe that lived walking around the forest as nomads, which made sense since those types of imp communities do exist.

ANYWAY THE POINT IS Alex grew affectioned of those people and with their lifestyle. He started to feel like he was one of them. 

And, of course, he was now closer than he ever was to Elisa.

Since they were different species, they never worried about having kids. I’ve never said this before but Alex is a doctor, he knows about this stuff, so he always made sure to reassure Elisa that "they were their own condon" and, as sad as it may sound, they couldn't have kids.

... Or so Alex thought.

You know how tigers and lions can have offspring together? Yeah, it's the same thing.

It's very hard to happen, but they spent YEARS together if you know what I mean so yeah

That's how Alex and Elisa gave birth to their first child: Tobias, the only one of a specie that is a mix between human and imp.

His parents were really worried at first, afterall, they new NOTHING about Toby's condition. They didn't know if he was going to grow as large as a human or if he'd assume imp proportions forever. After some research with his son's blood, Alex found out that Toby was indeed half human and half imp, but he was predominantly physically an imp. That means his biological features are, mostly, imp like: he'd hardly grow as large as a human through his life's course and could live as a normal imp in the Colony. The fact that he showed talent for magic (once he was old enough to do so) and was able to do it just like any other imp in the Colony also made things easier.

Elisa and Alex chose to raise Toby in the Colony, they believed it’d be healthier and safer for him (especially after some events that I’ll be talking about in other posts), although it hurt Alex to pretend that he was an imp to his son and that he couldn’t see him everyday. 

Even if they couldn’t see each other everyday, Alex and Toby were very close. Toby loved his daddy very much and was very attached to him.

After five years after Toby was born, Elisa got pregnant again and gave birth to their second child: Bernardo (that’d eventually be nicknamed as “Brad”), one of the two only beings of the specie Alex and Elisa accidently created together.

For preucation, Alex took a bit of Brad’s blood and made some research, just like he did to Toby.

And what he found out wasn’t exactly... relieving.

Brad, just like Toby, was half human and half imp, but he had expressed mostly human features in his physical body. He was as small as a baby imp now, but it was a matter of time until he started to grow very VERY large.

Unlike Toby, Brad couldn’t live as an imp in the Colony and things got very complicated for them.

Alex wanted to leave. He told Elisa the Colony’s community would NEVER accept their youngest, they would never accept Alex and probably wouldn’t accept Toby either. They had to leave that place before they couldn’t hide the truth anymore, even if it cost revealing Toby, a five year old child, that most of his life was a lie.

But Elisa was hesitant. She didn’t want to leave her home, her parents, her friends. She knew Alex was right, they couldn’t stand that play for too long, but how to leave everything she had built behind? How to leave everything she knew as home behind? It wasn’t that easy.

Until something very bad happened.

Remember I said Alex made a few friends in the Colony? So, one of them was Stefan, a experienced fairy soldier that had known Elisa for as long as she was alive. He was pretty much her best friend (even if he was old enough to be her father) and now he was also great friends with Alex.

Stefan is important here. He has a very tragic backstory involving humans. He lost pretty much everything to them: his whole family and his wings, something that meant more than just flying to him.

So, as expected, he hates humans and truly believes that they are nothing more than monsters that try to manipulate you and to get advantage from imp’s and fairy’s magic. 

After some years, he started to get very suspicious over Alex. Some things weren’t making any sense anymore and that “nomad imp community” was starting to sound way more like an excuse than the actual truth. He simply didn’t understand what was stopping him to live with Elisa and his sons for once.

So he did some investigation. One day, he followed Alex (that he knew as Turk) out of the Colony, in one of the days he had only come to visit his family. Alex had said earlier that he had to “go back to his own society”. Yeah, right. Stefan was hiding the whole time and followed Alex till a good distane from the Colony’s limits. 

And he didn’t get exaclty happy to see his best friend growing impossibly huge out of nowhere.

Stefan now knew the truth: Alex was pretending to be an imp using shrinking potions. He didn’t belong to any nomad imp group, he was a human that lived in his own house and was coming to the Colony to play family with them.

Of course, he didn’t only felt betrayed, but pissed as fuck. Stefan didn’t waste any time: as soon as Alex came back to the Colony he confronted him. Alex tried to explain himself, but they only argued and ended up having a pretty bad fight.

In anger, Stefan didn’t want to hear no more explanations, so he told some of the Colony’s high authorities about Alex’s lies and that they had to do something about it. 

The Colony’s Council decided to call Elisa and solve things between imps and fairies only. But they showed her no mercy.

They basically gave her two options: or she’d prove her loyalty to the Colony and would kill her husband and her human son, or the Colony would sentence all of them to death penalty, including Toby and Brad, children that they claimed should have never been born. 

Elisa was in shatters. She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t kill the man she loved and her baby child, she just couldn’t. She was about to accept the second option, rathering die with her family than killing them, but Stefan decided to help her out.

He wasn’t expecting the Council to be so cruel and he started to regret his decisions the moment he saw how Elisa was worried about her family and how much she loved them, even if they were human. He hated Alex and Brad, but seeing Elisa in excruciating pain over them was impossible for him, so he made up a plan with her to save everybody.

It cost Elisa to trust Stefan, he had told their secrets to the worst people possible, but she had no option aside from accepting his help and following his plan.

The plan was simple: Elisa would tell the Council she’d kill Alex and Brad and would tell Alex that she had changed her mind and that they should leave the Colony as soon as possible now that Stefan knew the truth.

Alex believed her and, after Stefan’s confirmation, so the Council did. The next step was to take Alex and Brad to the Colony’s limits, pretending they were about to leave. 

Then it happened.

Elisa made, with Stefan’s help, a huge barrier on the Colony’s frontier that didn’t allowed humans to cross it. It was basically a security method that they never thought it’d be necessary.

But now it was and it wasn’t meant to protect the ones inside the Colony...

Of course, Alex didn’t understand SHIT.

He spent MONTHS returning to the Colony in his shrinking form, trying to find a way to cross the barrier and to get Toby back. 

Or to talk to Elisa.

Or to understand.

Or anything.

He just wanted his family.

Eventually, his potions ended and he was left to raise Brad on his own and to never see his wife and oldest son again.

Since then, he hates Elisa. Or at least thinks he does. He’s just deeply mad at her, he doesn’t understand why she left them. 

He did everything for her. Denyed his own race, submitted himself to the dangerous effects of a extremely nocive potion which he faces the consequences till this day, did his fucking best to be the best father and husband his family could have-

All this love, all this effort, all this sweat and blood

Wasted.

It took years for him to fully recover. Aside from the health problems the abusive use of the shrinking potions brought, he also became alcohoolic. Because he wasn’t mentally estable enough, neither to take care of himself and of his very very small son, he went to live in his parents house. His family knew about Elisa and the children they had together, his folks actually liked her a lot so it saddened them as well that she simply abandoned Alex and Brad and that they would never see Toby again.

His family didn’t had to worry about Brad’s very little size for too long though, before he was one year old he had already reached his human size.

Anyway, Alex’s family gave him a huge help until he was healthy enough to take care of Brad, the only one left from the family he built.

Back to Elisa, she didn’t told Alex her plan because she KNEW he wouldn’t want to do it. She simply knew Alex would be too stubborn. He’d have wanted to try to escape or to face the Council. Both alternatives would get them all killed.

Toby didn’t understand why his mother did what she did. He was forced to go back home with her, screaming the whole time, saying that they left his father and brother behind while Elisa was crying endelessly.

Stefan came to them eventually and calmed Toby down. His heart broke when he saw Elisa. She was... not okay.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to assist her. He immediatly went to a representent of the Council and took them to Elisa and to the Colony’s frontier to prove that she had done it and did even more than she was suppose to. Of course, not without consequences to her sanity, she had just killed her husband and baby, of course she was in pain.

Nevertheless, the Council confirmed Elisa had done her part and left to leave her alone with the child they let live.

After that, Toby spent weeks returning to that spot of the frontier to look for his dad and brother. No sucess.

As time went by, he eventually forgot about Brad, he was very young when they tore apart and Elisa and Stefan never talked about him nor Alex. All he can remember is that there was a baby in the middle of that mess, but he can’t relate to it.

He kept the memories of his father though, who was closer to him, and till this day he believes he’s alive somewhere and that he can be found. But he has no idea he’s a human and has no idea of his own true nature.

Elisa and Alex miss their respective sons deeply and think about them everyday. They also miss each other very much and the first months after the incident were terribly agonizing for the both of them.

They kept going for the child that had remained for the both of them and raised them apart from each other. Alex never told Brad what happened and so Elisa did to Toby. Like that, none of the brothers knew about the existence of each other.

Until the day Toby was sent, coincidentally, to his “little” brother’s house

And none of them has no idea of this fucking long backstory I just spent four months writing :)

enjoy