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forbidden-sunlight · 4 months

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yandere!Alastor with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario: A Wendigo's Violent Love

Warning: aged-up!reader [in early to late twenties], violence, spoilers for episodes 7 and 8 in the first season of the 2024 show, possessive and obsessive behavior, Alastor is in denial, physical abuse, implication of friends to enemies.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the back button on your phone or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

Hey guys, welcome to another Hazbin Hotel fic! I know I had said that I was going to be on a break until the 8th or 14th in my last post, but I had gotten a burst of inspiration after watching the season finale and wrote this after discussing the idea with @riddle-simp and collaborated with @witch-of-the-writing-desk. It's because of these two that I managed to write 2k in a single day, so please give a big round of applause to these amazing individuals.

So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what's going on in tonight's broadcast with Hell's one and only Radio Demon!

Part Two

Alastor could not believe what had happened on the rooftop. No, he refused to believe that he was nearly killed by a hair. To almost die for his friends, a fucking altruist of all things. Sorry to disappoint, but this is not how his story will end here. He thought viciously, tugging at his hair as memories rushed through his mind. He needed more. He needed his freedom. Yet this deal is restricting his powers from reaching their fullest potential, and it almost killed him. Yes, there has to be another way to get out of it. But more importantly….he needed to stop these feelings bubbling inside of him. These feelings he felt towards you.

You, a simple groundskeeper who had forgotten what it meant to be a human and served as a weapon in war. You, who did not use technology like him yet still found a way to connect with the rest of the hotel’s wayward souls.

He hates it and he wants you gone, out of sight and out of mind, because these feelings have put him in more danger than necessary. When he finds the backdoor of his deal, how to unclip his wings, he will be the one pulling all of the strings and claim the power that he rightfully deserves. He is the Radio Demon, the Great Alastor! Nothing else matters to him!

He made his decision right in the dilapidated radio station to never get attached to you or anyone else again. To only focus on himself and no one else. He is in Hell for a reason, after all. He cackled, feeling the thrum of his power rising in unison with his conviction. Yes. He thought. Yes, he’s Alastor! The cold, ruthless overlord who always has room for more voices on his broadcast. Not some soft-hearted twit who would die for someone!

But what he did not realize at the time, just right underneath the hatch, you had heard everything.

Despite your injuries and losing both of your arms to angelic steel, you had used your strength to trek through the debris and look for him. Now knowing that he despised you, knowing that he sees you as nothing more than a weapon to use for his convenience….well, you could not blame him. You were a weapon when you were alive. You were feared, you were hated, and you did not care at the time. So why did it hurt so much when he said that? You did not know, except it was better to keep your distance from him.

So you left the Radio Demon alone, staggering away to join the others.

Vaggie was somehow able to find Sir Pentious’ blueprints for your prosthetics in a fireproof trunk beneath the rubble, and put in a call to Carmilla Carmine to see if she could make them with angelic steel instead of adamantine. Of course, the angelic arms dealer took a look at them first before agreeing to it, but not before telling Vaggie she must ask for your consent to do the procedure and what you wanted to add or remove. You gave your input, and the procedure was scheduled for the following week. Although you could not help with the construction of the hotel, you did assist Charlie by putting together an eulogy and memorial service for Sir Pentious. The princess was not sure when it would be held, hopefully when the hotel was finished.

You understood, softly promising to be by her side for support, even if you had to be pushed in a wheelchair. Sir Pentious had been a good person, an inventor and a gentleman who was nothing but kind and respectful to you. Even though you offered to pay him for doing repairs on your arms in the past, he brushed it off and instead asked you to join him for tea. He…you hoped he found peace.

On the day of your procedure, you asked the overlord a question that had been plaguing your mind since the war. “Madam Carmilla, I am a weapon. I was raised to be one, to be used and tossed aside when my usefulness had expired. So…why is it that I am bothered by what Alastor said…on that day?” You did not dare to elaborate on what he exactly said to her, just that he said that he did not want to see you anymore. Be gone from his sight and mind.

She stared at you for a long moment before she replied coolly, “So I have heard from Vaggie. But I do not share her thoughts. A weapon is lifeless. You are a person. An emotionally stunted one, but someone is living, breathing, and who can still be hurt by what others say about them even if they can’t see it. You are upset because of what Alastor said….and in my humble opinion, whatever you feel towards him, discard it. There is nothing to gain by being close to him.” She then turned away, pulling on a pair of gloves over her hands as one of her daughters placed a mask over her face. “Are you ready to begin? This is your last chance, and I cannot promise it won’t hurt.”

“I am.” You said. “Thank you for answering my question.”

Carmilla nodded, and proceeded to give out instructions to you and the rest of the staff in the operating room. You complied, not wanting any more time to be wasted on your behalf. At least now you knew why you were upset. It was because you cared about Alastor. Cared….yes, that is the appropriate word. You had to distance yourself from him. It is what he wanted, so you must respect his decision as the manager of the Hazbin Hotel.

Yes, it is better this way.

That was the last thought that crossed your mind before a mask was placed over your face, and everything fell into darkness.

Alastor did not understand. You were doing what he wanted you to do. He did not want to see or talk to you unless it was necessary. So why was it making him angry? When he congratulated you on a successful recovery from your procedure, complimented your progress in physical therapy per Carmilla’s instructions, or how lovely the eulogy you wrote for Sir Pentious' memorial service, you showed no reaction. You simply stared at him with a hollow expression before thanking him, excusing yourself with a bow of your head.

He should be elated. No, he is pleased. He is satisfied that his relationship with you has not gone by being professional. Why, you even pull away as soon as he lays a finger on you~! So why does it bother him that you recoil from his touch? No. He…cannot accept it. He cannot accept this. He needed to speak to you. Discreetly.

However, now that this new and improved Hazbin Hotel stood in place of the old one, everything is much bigger with the additional square footage; meaning there would be more ground to cover if Alastor is to ever find you, even if you do not wish to see him.

Niffty, bless her little deranged mind, pointed him in the direction of the greenhouse. Of course, it was much bigger than the old one. But he still saw the old stained glass windows of the Moriningstar family crest lined up on the south side, allowing red light to come through and shine down on seedling trays with new shoots poking out of the inky soil. The clean, fragrant scent of herbs permeated the air as he walked through the rows of berries, juicy melons, and other culinary delights. He did not think this place would already be thriving when you were the only one who tended to it, as the hotel’s groundskeeper. However…this is you. You, who is able to accomplish anything once you put your mind to it.

He found you hiding just beyond the apple trees, kneeling beside a bush of glistening roses, armed with pruning shears and an apron over your clothes. A watering can sat on the grass by your side. Your back was facing him…which allowed him the element of surprise. Grinning, he leaned forward, stretching his gloved fingers to lightly caress the petals of the rose you were about to snip off.

“Oh, my apologies dear. My hand slipped!”

You glanced at him over your shoulder, emotionless [Eye Color] irises holding a steady gaze before turning away. “It’s all right. There are others that I can place at Sir Pentious’ memorial site.” You said, raising the shears to carefully cut another rose with a small snip. “Thank you for your concern.”

The static around him buzzed, swelling in synchronization with his boiling anger towards you. “I see.” He hissed. “I am terribly sorry to disturb you.”

“It is all right.” Snip. “If there is nothing else, please allow me to finish this so that I can go on break. Niffty will not be happy if I am not out of here within ten minutes.”

“I’m afraid we must discuss something, [First Name].” He pressed on, irritated at your uncharacteristic rudeness. “That is why I am here. So please turn around and look at me.”

You did. You placed the shears down, twisted your body around so that you looked at him straight in the eye. “Yes?” You said. “What do you need?”

He smiled, the static around him coming to a screeching halt and he was much calmer. Finally, He thought. You were looking at him, instead of avoiding his gaze. “I understand that since you have been cleared to return to work, you’ve been quite busy~! However! What I do not understand is why you have been ignoring me.” He leaned forward, feeling his eyes transform into radio dials. “You do not greet me as much as you have before, we haven’t had tea together, nor have we taken a stroll in Cannibal Colony~! So…why are you acting like I am a complete stranger to you?”

“Because I know the truth.”

Any and every thought he could have possibly said to her at this moment evaporated upon hearing your answer. “Pardon? I’m sorry but I didn’t catch that.” His voice leaked through the rising static. He felt his antlers grow, expanding past his ears with cr-crik, crick noises. Like the roots of a tree.

“I know the truth. I know that you are angry over what happened in the war, how everyone saw you flee from your battle against Adam. I know you wish to unclip your wings and that you utterly despise me. So I am doing what you wish for. To maintain a professional relationship as the groundskeeper and the manager of the Hazbin Hotel. Our goal is to redeem sinners. There’s nothing beyond business between us.” You said with a calm and expressionless composure. “I went there that day, to the radio station. I had gone there to look for you, to make sure you were all right when I heard your words. But know this,” A sudden sheen of ice glazed over your eyes. “If you bring harm to Charlie or anyone in this hotel, I will kill you where you stand.”

The last thread of patience in his psyche split in half. Before he could stop himself, Alastor pinned you against the ground, his hands on your shoulders and glaring at you, trying to intimate you with his true form, to scare you into silence as he had done with Husk…but you held your gaze.

“It’s terrible manners to eavesdrop on someone, my dear.”

“And it isn’t wise to attack someone when you are not even at your full strength.”

In a flash you immediately flipped him over, straddling his hips as you held down his wrists over his head with one hand. The other held a garden spade to his throat and he was burning. That was when he realized you weren’t wearing your gloves, thus the angelic steel is the reason why his skin is on fire.

“Calm yourself, Alastor.” You said. “There is no reason to be angry when I am doing what you want me to do. Nor to act as you are doing right now. I advise you to take slow, deep breaths and count to five backwards.”

“Release me.”

“Not until you have calmed down.” The way you replied so calmly, so…lifelessly, made Alastor angry. Angrier than he has felt in a long, long time. Not since his prey had escaped the forest and he did not get to eat them. Not since his mother died, leaving him alone in the world except for a drunken asshole who wasn’t worthy of being his father. Make these feelings stop NOW

“Come to my office in exactly twenty minutes for an evaluation about your conduct at work. Do not be late.”

That was the last thing he said to you before he sunk into the grass as an inky shadow, slithering back towards the greenhouse’s entrance towards his room. He couldn’t believe it. How could you have known everything? How could he not have sensed your presence? Was he that weak? No. No, he assumed he was alone and clearly he had not been. You were an anomaly. You were raised as a weapon; to spy, to kill, to search and destroy upon the command of your master.

So why does it still bother him? Why does his head feel like it is about to split in half as he goes over the conversation over and over in his mind? Why is his heart falling into the pit of his stomach at remembering your promise to kill him if he harmed anyone here in the hotel? Why does he have this urge to know how you truly feel towards him? Do you still care for him? Do you love him?

In twenty minutes, he needed to know the truth…or else he would go insane.

What Alastor did not realize though, as he holed up himself in his quarters until the allotted time to meet with you, Husk had seen the whole thing from the door.

He was going to drag you to lunch because Niffty had gotten pissed that you were skipping meals again…and thank fuck Alastor did not see him. Husk, the drunken gambler and former overlord, almost flew over to you with a worried look, grumbling under his breath. Once he saw that you were all right and did not have visible bruises or injuries courtesy of a certain someone, he grabbed you by the hand, leading out of the greenhouse. He was not going to let Alastor hurt you again.

He might be a dumbass, can’t fight worth shit…but you are important to him, and he’ll protect you even if it means putting himself in the line of fire again.

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#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #yandere alastor x reader #alastor x reader #yandere x reader #forbidden-sunlight #yandere male #yandere #ns.fw #cw physical abuse #tw physical abuse #tw possessive behavior #cw possessiveness #hazbin hotel spoilers #violet evergarden!reader #character!reader

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angelicyoongie · 2 months

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lovesick (XVl / finale)

— pairing: yandere ot7 x (f) reader — word count: 13.3k — warnings: yandere, obsessive behaviour, explicit sexual content unprotected sex, breast play, fingering (vaginal), VERY mild d/s, consensual punishment (spanking), consensual voyeurism (jimin watches like the freak that he is). — summary: You dreamed of the day you would get your very own soulmark. Though, you didn’t expect to wake up to a searing hurt in your arm, the phantom pain of your shoulder being dislocated and your forearm fractured. As if dealing with the worst possible soulmark ever wasn’t bad enough, you also have to come to terms with the fact that you’re being stalked. When the letters and gifts you receive begin to escalate and the police offers no help, you have no other option than to figure out who’s behind it yourself – and hopefully before it’s too late. — a/n: please read the author's note at the end of the chapter!

Previous - Masterlist

It takes six months before you finally hear the words you've been waiting so desperately for.

"Sunshine, we've been talking and we think it's time we relocate to somewhere else."

Your fork clatters to the table, clicking loudly against your plate. You wonder for a moment if you're dreaming – if your brain has started to hallucinate scenarios to make up for how suffocated you feel in this cabin – but Jimin's hand squeezing your knee is too real to be made up.

"What?" You breathe, shocked.

"We can't stay here for much longer, baby, the station uses the cabin sporadically throughout the summer months," Jimin says. He takes a bite of his food, shrugging as he admits, "Our stay here so far hasn't exactly been legal. I'd rather not get us all in trouble for using the place unauthorized."

"We know how cooped up you've been here," Seokjin adds, giving you a sad smile, "We never planned on staying here this long but we had to figure some things out first. We wanted to find a place that was perfect for us, somewhere that could be our home, so we couldn't rush it."

You drop your hands into your lap, clutching them together tightly. You hope it's enough to hide how badly they're trembling, blood pumping loudly in your ears as it dawns on you that this is your ticket out. You might not be able to escape, not in the way you attempted so many months ago at least, but it's a start. The boys wouldn't make this decision if they didn't trust you, if they didn't feel confident enough in your connection that you won't try to run away from them.

And you won't.

You've come to terms with your situation; that your soulmates need you to get better.

Though you haven't had much of a choice, you have decided that you're going to stay until the bond settles, just until they stop being so obsessive and paranoid. Maybe then you'll be able to go back to the life you had before and do everything right with them this time.

The you from six months ago would've been disgusted that you're even entertaining the thought of giving them a second chance, but you know better now. Your soulmates are sick. Perhaps with time, and a lot of therapy, they will be able to understand what they've been putting you through and try to make amends for it.

You know that the healthy thing to do would be to run away without a backward glance but you can't. Try as you might to hate it, your soul – your heart – has long since accepted them. You can't quite call it love, not with the circumstances of how those feelings came to be, but you do like them.

"It's some hours away but it's a quaint home, just big enough for the eight of us. It's on the outskirts of– the city! So it has a big garden and a lot of picturesque trails around it," Seokjin's voice cracks as he almost lets the town name slip, Namjoon elbowing his side with a low hiss.

"It's perfect for taking Yeontan on walks!" Taehyung pipes up with a grin, sneaking the whining pup at his feet a piece of sausage.

You're not surprised that the boys aren't willing to share any information about the new house and place you'll be moving to. They may not be as paranoid as they were at the beginning but that still doesn't mean that they have full faith in you just yet. But you expected that. You just need to play your cards right – stay at the house until they let their guards down and then, maybe, you'll be able to slowly lay down the foundation you need to convince them to let you go back to your home.

"That sounds lovely," You smile, glossing over Seokjin's blunder.

Needing to act as normal as possible, you once again pick up your fork and try to resume eating your dinner. The piece of chicken you shove into your mouth doesn't taste like anything, your nerves making everything bland and tough to chew. But you push through, moving around some rice on your plate as you nonchalantly say, "But what about your jobs? Jungkook's degree? I would hate for our move to affect you like that."

"You don't have to worry about that," Jimin squeezes your knee, "I'll be commuting with Seokjin hyung and Hoseok hyung. Namjoon hyung has been hired at the library in the city we're moving to and Jungkookie is going to finish the rest of the semester online."

"Taehyungie and I can work a lot from home, so we're planning on doing that. We might have to go into the office now and then, but that's no problem," Yoongi supplies. He gives you a fond look as he says, "We're hoping it'll make the transition into the new house easier for you since some of us will always be home to spend time with you."

And it'll be easier to make sure you don't do anything stupid.

"Ah, I see, that's nice," You say. "Thank you for thinking of me."

"Always," Namjoon grins sweetly, his dimples indenting his cheeks.

It might not be a lot to go off, but the fact that the majority of them are planning on commuting every day must mean that the new city can be too far away from your old one, even if you don't know exactly where it is yet. An hour, maybe a little more, if they're being extra careful. You can work with that.

Hoseok catches your gaze from across the table, his expression earnest as he says, "We want you to be able to have a normal life, Y/n. With us."

"I know our methods have been a bit..." He trails off with a small grimace, no doubt thinking about what transpired in his shop and everything that followed. You can't exactly say that Hoseok looks remorseful, none of them do, but there is a touch of shame in their faces that hasn't been present before.

"I won't apologize for what happened because that's what led us here and gave us the chance to grow closer like we were supposed to all along. But, we want to do better by you and we're going to do our best to make sure that happens."

The others voice out their agreement, nodding along to Hoseok's words.

You shove a mouthful of rice into your mouth to dampen your sigh.

You're not even sure why you feel disappointed by the fact that the boys refuse to apologize for what they did to you, you already know they don't feel bad about it. Still, perhaps the part of you that likes them was hoping for it nonetheless. Maybe it would be easier for you to accept everything that has happened if they did – if they admitted that they had hurt you and wanted to repent for it. But, you're probably going to have to wait a very long time before that day ever comes – if, it ever comes.

Swallowing your food, you try to shake off any useless thoughts. You need to focus on the future, on the fact that you'll be regaining a sliver of freedom soon.

You move one hand under the table, covering Jimin's hand with yours.

Squeezing it, you hope you don't sound too eager as you ask, "So, when do we leave?"

Two weeks.

You figured the move would happen soon, but not that quickly. The boys must have planned this for a long time, far longer than they let on, because there's no way they could have closed on a house this fast.

The day after they told you of their plans, Namjoon had already begun moving some of his books out of the cabin. Truthfully there wasn't much any of you needed to pack up, only a few random personal belongings and decor elements that had been placed here and there to make your stay a little more cozy. In the end, it all fit into three boxes placed neatly by the door.

A few days before the move, the boys spent an hour rearranging the furniture back to how it was when you had first arrived, erasing any trace of the last six months with it. It was as if no one had ever been there in the first place, as if it hadn't served as a prison for half a year.

When you first arrived you wondered if you would ever be able to leave, and now, you're about to do just that.

"Y/n."

You turn around as Yoongi calls your name, watching as he steps closer with a piece of fabric between his hands. Yoongi unfolds it under your gaze, revealing it to be a black opaque scarf.

"We're all ready to go, love, but you have to cover your eyes with this," Yoongi frowns apologetically. "We want to trust you, but for everyone's peace of mind, this is the best thing to do. It's just until we arrive at the house."

You eye the scarf for a moment, flashing Yoongi a weak smile as you say, "It's okay, I understand."

He steps closer, bringing the fabric up to your face. The material is soft, and cool, as it covers your eyes, blocking out any semblance of light. The scarf is wide enough that it covers everything from your eyebrows to the tip of your nose, removing any chance you might have had to tilt your head to peek at the outside world. You should've figured they would've been prepared for that possibility.

Yoongi's hands are careful as he ties the scarf behind your head, making sure he doesn't tangle or tug at your hair in the process. You can feel his breath against your cheek as he binds it securely, double knotting it to make sure it's not going to come undone.

"All done," Yoongi announces softly, curving one hand along the back of your neck. He tilts your head up slightly, just enough for his lips to brush against yours. Your eyes fall shut despite the darkness already hindering your vision, leaning forward to catch his lips in a proper kiss.

Yoongi indulges you for a few seconds before he steps back, removing his hands.

"Come back," You pout, your fingers searching blindly for his coat.

"We're going to be late, love, the others are waiting for us," You can hear the smile in Yoongi's voice as he grabs your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

As if summoned, the cabin door flies open, Jungkook's voice echoing slightly in the near-empty cabin as he asks, "Are you coming, hyung? Y/n? We're all ready to go."

You let Yoongi lead you forward, your steps a little unsteady despite his promise that nothing is in your way. Jungkook grabs your other hand as you near the door, chattering excitedly about how he brought some of your favourite snacks for the trip as they both help you down the stairs.

Your heart jumps, picking up speed, as you hear the steady thrum of a car motor running. You can't believe this is actually real – you're truly leaving this place for good. You know that Taehyung, Jimin, and Namjoon have already left, the boys eager to get everything in order at the new house before your arrival.

You're maneuvered into the car without too much trouble, Hoseok clicking your seatbelt into place as you're placed between him and Jungkook in the backseat. You find a bag of sweets dumped into your lap the moment you're situated, Hoseok chiding Jungkook lightly for startling you. Yoongi has taken his place in the front seat, groaning loudly as Seokjin declares that as the driver; he's going to be responsible for the music and that no one is allowed to complain about his choices.

You lean back in your seat, getting yourself comfortable between Jungkook and Hoseok. Their bodies being flushed with yours in the cramped car feels grounding, the feel of their strong thighs pressed against yours being something you can easily divert your focus to with your sight momentarily blocked. Seokjin and Yoongi bicker as the car begins to pull away from the cabin, the gravel road crunching loudly under the wheels.

Finally.

Knowing there's no chance of you catching a glimpse of the surroundings on the way there, not with the blindfold so securely wrapped around your head, you slump to the side, resting your head on Hoseok's shoulder. Slender fingers wrap around yours as Hoseok takes your hand into his lap, his thumb moving soothingly across your knuckles. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to zone out and daydream about all of the possibilities ahead of you. It's not like the boys are going to magically become more trusting the moment you arrive at the new house but the move will open new doors for you – give you more opportunities to show them that they can lower their guards and trust the bond without any consequences.

They don't have to worry about you running away anymore.

The boys seem content to let you rest on the drive over to the new house, filling the silence between songs with jokes and lighthearted bickering. You easily accept the pieces of candy that are pressed to your lips at steady intervals, smiling at Jungkook and Hoseok's pleased words whenever you accept their offers. Before you know it, the car begins to slow down and you hear Seokjin exclaim, "Ah, there it is!"

The door on Hoseok's side is opened the moment the car stops, Taehyung whining loudly about how long it took you to get there. You follow their lead out of the car and inside the new house, placing one foot blindly in front of the other.

"We'll show you the outside later, babe," Taehyung promises as he steers you forward with both hands securely placed on your shoulders, "We just want to see your reaction to the inside of the house first."

Namjoon helps you slip off your shoes as you step into the house, the smell of a freshly cleaned floor hitting your nose. Taehyung urges you to walk forward a bit more before he stops you, his hands moving from your shoulders to untie the knots behind your head.

"We hope you'll like your new home, darling," Namjoon says, revealing a hint of nervousness in his tone.

You're practically bursting with anticipation as Taehyung undos the first knot, the wooden floorboards under your feet giving you the impression that this is likely an older, more traditional, house. You blink as the blindfold finally falls away, the sudden burst of light stinging your eyes.

Your lips part in surprise as your vision adjusts, taking in the space in front of you.

You're standing in the middle of a large entryway, the area opening up into a big combined living and dining room. One wall is practically filled with windows, letting lots of beautiful sunlight stream in and warm up the space. You notice a massive couch on one side of the room, the size of it definitely big enough to comfortably seat eight people at once. It's facing the built-in fireplace in the wall in front of it, a big TV hung above it. The dining room portion has a lovely intricate hardwood table with eight matching chairs pushed up against it.

You notice that one of the smaller walls has a bookcase spanning the entire width of it, already half-full with what you can only assume to be Namjoon's books. You do recognize little trinkets here and there that the boys kept at the cabin, and even a few larger plants you eyed when you visited Seokjin's shop way back then.

"I love it," You gasp, stunned at how well they've designed the living room.

It does feel cozy – home-y, even.

"I told you the couch was the right choice!" Taehyung walks into the room, grinning smugly at Jimin.

Jimin rolls his eyes, "It would've looked too out of place if it wasn't for the rug that I found to go along with it."

"There they go again," Hoseok sighs behind your back. He nudges your shoulder gently, voice low as he says, "They're going to keep doing that for a while. Why don't we go look at the kitchen in the meantime?"

"Please," You nod, excited to see if the rest of the house looks as good as the living room. You follow Hoseok's lead back to the entry and through the open door on the left, the rest of the boys trailing behind you.

"The kitchen needed an upgrade so we let Seokjin hyung and Yoongi hyung design it since they do the majority of the cooking," Hoseok scratches his neck, a little sheepish as he pauses next to the large island in the room.

The kitchen is sleek and modern, definitely newer than what you've seen of the house so far, but not out of place by any means. It just feels inviting and bright, like a breath of fresh air. Maybe cooking won't be so bad if you can do it in a kitchen like this.

"It looks great," You comment, walking around the island to marvel at some of the fancier appliances that are out on display on the counters.

"Thank you, angel," Seokjin preens. He shares a pleased look with Yoongi over your compliment, the younger man's cheeks flushed from the praise.

You catch sight of the pretty, colourful garden outside as you walk past the sink. Looking outside the window above it, you find that spring is already in full bloom here. While you had noticed a few more wildflowers around the cabin a few days before you left, it's nothing compared to the abundance of flowers and shrubs that are blossoming here.

The view makes you smile. You know your stay here isn't permanent but it does make your heart flutter to know that you're going to be spending your foreseeable future here – in a lovely house with a pretty garden – and not an old cabin in a dark forest. The boys did well by picking this house, it's the type of place you actually would like to live in.

"Y/n, let's go have a look at the downstairs bathroom and study before we move upstairs," Seokjin says, gesturing to the hallway.

You can still hear Taehyung and Jimin's heated discussion as you cross over the entry to look at the rooms on the opposite side of the house, the french double doors leading to the study winning you over immediately. Both rooms look like they've gotten a recent refresh, the new paint and tiles the boys picked out for the bathroom nicely complementing the old features of the home. The house is the perfect blend of rustic and modern.

Jungkook grabs your hand as you turn to follow Yoongi up to the second floor, excitedly dragging you up the stairs ahead of the others. He quickly explains that the second-floor houses all three bedrooms and an additional two ensuite bathrooms. Jungkook eagerly tells you about the choices they made for the bedrooms, from the color of the wall to the bedside tables to even the small light near the window that projects stars on the ceiling when it's dark out.

Yoongi takes special care to point out the wainscoting he put up in the second bedroom and he flashes you a gummy smile as you praise him for the work he's done. You drag your fingers over the soft duvet on the seemingly king-sized bed in the room, a lightbulb going off in your head as you remember that there are only three bedrooms.

"Wait, if there's only three beds, what are the sleeping arrangements going to be like?"

Hoseok speaks up from where he's leaning against the wall, "We're all going to share, sunshine. Some of us will have to stay overnight in the city due to our jobs every so often so that should clear up some space, but aside from that, we'll be sharing beds."

The surprise must be evident on your face, because Namjoon grimaces and quickly supplies, "We know we've been neglecting each other as soulmates. We don't feel the bond in the same way as we do with you but we are connected regardless. This... well, this is our attempt at strengthening that connection. We're trying to accept that the bond goes eight ways – not just one."

You find yourself speechless at what you've just heard. You knew that the bond was slowly mellowing them out but you never thought that it would start affecting the connection between them as well. If that part of the soulbond starts to heal then... You might be able to get back to your normal life sooner than you first dared to hope for.

"We still have one more room to look at, love," Yoongi touches your hip, nudging you towards the door. None of the boys seem to expect a response to what Namjoon just told you, understanding that the news has left you a little dumbfounded.

Taehyung and Jimin must have resolved their bickering during your tour, the two of them waiting by the door to the final room, giggling at something on Taehyung's phone. The hot and cold behaviour the boys have towards each other does give you a whiplash most days but you suppose that too might become less frequent as the bond between them finally gets the nurture it's been needing for years.

"We didn't want to complete this house without you," Yoongi explains as he pushes open the door. The last bedroom is noticeably less finished than the rest of the house, the walls a tired white and the furniture non-existent aside from another king bed. "This is your home just as much as it's ours, so we'd really like it if you want to help us design the final bedroom."

"I'd love that," You grin, eager for a project you can occupy some of your time with.

"We'll be collecting your things soon, babe," Jimin adds, "Your lease is up on your apartment and you don't need it anymore, so we'll take turns packing up everything and bringing it over next weekend."

You stare at the blank wall, heart sinking in your chest. Somehow, you had forgotten about your lease. A burst of anger you haven't felt in a while bubbles up under your skin, the urge to scream and curse at them taking over your body. But what good will it do?

In their eyes, this is your new home. The need for your apartment is now obsolete.

You breathe slowly through your nose, quelling the flames before they can burn too hot. You may lose your apartment, your home, for now, but that doesn't mean you can't make a new home somewhere else later. You'll be fine. You're sure Heejun and Jaemin will gladly let you crash on their couch until you figure something out. For now, you just have to accept the situation for what it is and play along.

You have missed your things, so it'll be nice to be able to make this house your own for however long you'll need it.

"Great, thank you," You grit.

For once, Jimin seems oblivious to your snark. He throws an arm around your shoulders, bumping his forehead against yours as he grins and says, "C'mon babe, let's go have a look at the garden. I think you're going to love it."

You throw a glance towards the window, plastering on a convincing smile as you say, "I'd like nothing more, Jiminie."

Time passes quickly in the new house once you begin to settle in.

The unfinished bedroom gets decorated to your liking, the walls repainted and the newly hung shelves display most of the little knick-knacks from your old apartment. As spring begins to bleed into summer, you take on the task of getting the already stunning garden ready for the warmer weather. You often find yourself outside with Jungkook or Yoongi, weeding around the plants or mowing the grass to make sure Yeontan has a nice, safe space to run around in. The pup loves to dig up anything that has been freshly planted, so someone must always watch him like a hawk whenever the soil has been recently turned. You've already lost a bed of beautiful purple hyacinths once and you don't want to make that mistake again (even if the picture of Yeontan napping in a pile of flowers was a little cute).

Truly, it's all too easy to fall into a new routine and it doesn't take long before you know the boys' schedules by heart. Jimin, Seokjin, and Hoseok are away the most since the nature of their jobs doesn't allow them to work from home. Seokjin and Hoseok have hired more helpers to be able to spend the full weekend at home, in addition to a day or two here and there when they work on the administrative side of their businesses. Jimin, however, doesn't have that option. He often spends three days at the time in the city, his shifts too long and tiring for him to be able to make the drive back and forth every day.

You miss him whenever he's away and it's becoming quite obvious that the others do too. Jungkook and Taehyung in particular often mope around the house when Jimin is working his shifts, lamenting about how unfair it is that he has to stay there for days all by himself. Even if you're a little surprised at how quickly the bond has grown between the boys, you do admittedly find it awfully sweet to see them puppy-piling whoever has been gone for a day or more whenever they return to the house. Though, you always grow a little wary when Jimin comes back, as the days apart usually leave him a little more hungry for mischief than usual.

You can already tell that Jimin is up to something the moment he steps into the house, his eyes sparkling with interest despite his tired complexion. Your suspicion wavers slightly during dinner with Hoseok and Seokjin, as Jimin keeps yawning between bites and resting his head heavily against your arm the moment he's done eating. He stays glued to your back as you all shuffle into the living room after, hugging you tight to his chest as he settles down on the couch. He only hums in agreement when Seokjin proposes a few rounds of Mario Kart, letting out a tired sigh as he hooks his chin over your shoulder to watch them.

Jimin has one hand tucked under your sweatshirt, petting over the bare skin on your waist while he nuzzles his face against your neck. The gestures are innocent and sleepy, and you find your guard lowering with every round Hoseok and Seokjin play.

You snort as Hoseok gets hit with a blue shell just as he's about to cross the finish line, Seokjin letting out a whop as he races past him.

"You're such a cheater!" Hoseok huffs, glaring at the teasing dance Seokjin does to celebrate his fifth win in a row.

"Sorry to burst your bubble, Hobi, but you're just not as good as I am," Seokjin grins. "I never lose once I set my mind to something, you know that."

"You're too full of yourself, hyung," Hoseok shakes his head as he gives Seokjin's shoulder a light shove.

"And you're a sore loser," Seokjin quips, laughing as he gets pushed to the ground. He swats Hoseok's hands away as he tries to wrestle with him, his squeaky laughter filling the room as Hoseok grumbles out his protests.

The hand on your waist suddenly stills just as Seokjin's laughter lulls. The mischief is back in Jimin's voice as it brushes against your neck, his tone taunting as he says, "Maybe it's time you brought Seokjin hyung down a peg, huh, Hoseok hyung?"

You hold your breath as Hoseok and Seokjin both freeze, their heads slowly turning to face the couch.

"What are you talking about, Jimin?" Seokjin, never one to entertain Jimin's antics for too long, purses his lips as he stares him down.

"You do win almost every game we play, hyung, that's true, but you've also played more video games than all of us combined. Maybe if you and Hoseok hyung played a game that was more.. level to your experiences, it would be more fair?" Jimin proposes.

"What kind of game are we talking about here?" Hoseok asks. You can tell his curiosity is winning out over his usual disdain for Jimin's 'games', his eyes tracking Jimin as the younger brings one hand up to your jaw, turning your head to the side.

You let out a stuttered breath as you meet Jimin's hungry gaze, his glossy lips twisting into a smirk as he looks you dead in the eyes and says, "How about a competition to see who can fuck our baby better?"

You hear Seokjin sputter on the floor as Hoseok lets out a pained groan.

"Hyung! You almost kneed me in the balls! Are you seriously still trying to cheat?"

"I'm not– I'm surprised!" Seokjin retorts with a squeak, "I didn't think that little devil would joke around with something like that!"

"I'm not joking though," Jimin hums as he strokes his thumb along your jaw. "Wouldn't it be interesting to see who would win – who Y/n would crown the best?"

Jimin's gaze leaves yours for a second as it glides down to his hyungs on the floor, the corner of his mouth quirking into a mocking smile as he says, "Or maybe you're just too scared to find out who she prefers? I guess it might be better for you to give up now Hobi hyung, if you're not confident that you can beat Seokjin hyung."

Your lips part in surprise as you realize that Jimin is serious about his proposal, that he's trying to goad them into competing. It's a low blow and an obvious one too, but you don't think Hoseok and Seokjin care – not when Jimin is openly questioning their ability to pleasure you.

Seeing Hoseok's brows furrow in thought, Jimin returns his attention to you. He leans forward to slot your mouths together, taking advantage of the access you've given him as he pulls you into a deep kiss. His tongue dips past your lips right away, curling around your own as he holds you still. You can't help the moan that tumbles out as Jimin ravages your mouth, the sounds wet and filthy as he kisses you passionately.

You slump into Jimin's arms, letting him take full control of the kiss. It's only when you start to turn lightheaded that you turn your head away, gasping for air as Jimin moves his mouth to your jaw. You glance with hooded eyes down at the floor as you attempt to catch your breath, your stomach doing a flip as you notice how affected Hoseok and Seokjin seem. They're both turned on by the little show Jimin put on for them, their bulges prominent and straining against their pants.

The tension in the room is palpable. Seokjin and Hoseok look like they're teetering on the edge between hesitance and hunger – both wanting what Jimin is proposing, but still holding themselves back from accepting it.

You know Jimin can sense it by the way he makes you moan as he sucks your skin between his teeth, leaving his mark on your delicate throat. He lets out a low chuckle at the sharp intake of breath he hears from Seokjin.

"If the two of you aren't going to pleasure Y/n then you better say your goodnights now. I'll make sure to fuck her twice as good as either of you ever could. Hmm.. Do you think she'll even remember your names once I'm done?" He purrs against your neck, kissing his way back up to your lips.

"What do you think, baby? Should the two of us go upstairs, or do you want to see what the hyungs can do to you?"

While you don't particularly agree with Jimin's methods, you can't deny the fact that you have been curious about when Seokjin and Hoseok were going to get intimate with you. You've had countless make-out sessions with each of them, heavy petting involved, but it's never gone beyond that. The boys have been giving you some space to settle in properly and get your bearings in the new house but you've reached the point where you're honestly a little desperate to be touched. You want them to fuck you. And for all of Jimin's schemes, even you can agree that this one sounds fun – hot, even.

"I–" You shudder at the way Jimin presses his thumb against the bruise he left, eyes fluttering closed as you shyly admit, "I wouldn't m-mind, but I don't want to pressure them–"

"Fuck," Hoseok curses, pushing himself to his feet, "Whatever, I'm in."

He sends a sharp look down at Seokjin, "You better not chicken out."

"Yeah, hyung," Jimin chimes in, "Are you forfeiting your chance to finally fuck Y/n? Who knows when you'll be able to do it later when she has five other soulmates who already know her body so well."

Seokjin's jaw is clenched so tight it looks like it's going to break, his expression stormy as his eyes jump from person to person. His gaze lingers on you for longer, drinks in how affected you look after just a little kissing, how eager you seem to finally have your final two soulmates at your mercy. Even if he imagined your first time together to be a little more romantic and with a lot less Jimin, Seokjin can't deny that it's exciting to be able to prove himself as the best lover out of the group.

"I'm not forfeiting anything," Seokjin huffs, standing up to join Hoseok. "I'll win this fair and square. Just don't be too sad when Angel picks me as the best lover, yeah?"

Hoseok doesn't deign Seokjin with an answer, his sights already set on you. He brushes past his hyung with long strides, scooping you out of Jimin's arms and into his own. Hoseok rounds the coffee table to place you down on the other side, creating some space between you and the others, drawing a line he doesn't want anyone to cross.

You lean back against the table as he squats down in front of you, watching him with wide eyes as he reaches out to trace your bottom lip with one of his fingers.

"Sunshine, don't you think you're being too much of a tease?"

Hoseok's gaze hardens as you inadvertently swipe your tongue along the line he just traced, your lip tingling from his touch. You feel the back of your neck flush as you realize what you just did, feeling bashful as you drop your gaze down to the floor.

The denial sits on the tip of your tongue, but you can't make yourself utter the words. Jimin is the one who was teasing them, firing them up, but you didn't exactly stop him either, did you? You're not ashamed to admit that you've been wanting Hoseok and Seokjin for a while now, and Jimin has practically served them up on a silver platter for you.

"I–" You swallow thickly as you glance up and meet Hoseok's dark gaze, "I'm sorry?"

Hoseok's mouth quirks, "I don't think you are, Y/n."

Heat pools low in your stomach at Hoseok's astute observation, your thighs clenching helplessly under his sharp gaze.

"You deserve a little punishment for that, sunshine, don't you agree?" He hums.

The last time you were 'punished' was humiliating and not something you had agreed to at all. But this time, you're given the option to deny him, to walk away if you so wish. Despite everything they've done, you know they don't want to force you to do something you don't want to do.

Truthfully, it does make you a little nervous to give Hoseok full control, but the soulbond will never settle until you show him that you're willing to put your full trust in him.

"Yes," You weakly agree, embarrassed, knowing that he's looking for a verbal answer.

Hoseok gives a pleased smile at your compliance, his fiery exterior cracking momentarily until he reins himself back in.

"Good. Get on your hands and knees, Y/n, you're allowed to use the table for support if you need it."

The flush on the back of your neck spreads up to your face as you do as you're told. You turn around, crawling forward on your hands and knees until you're upper body is resting on the coffee table, the position naturally pushing your bottom out. You suck your lip between your teeth as you look ahead to find Jimin cupping himself above his pants, his smile wicked. Seokjin has made his way onto the same couch, his usually sweet face all stoic and difficult to read as he watches you and Hoseok. His hands are digging into his jeans, resisting the urge to touch himself and follow in Jimin's footsteps.

You lower your head as Hoseok positions himself behind you, his hands landing on the swell of your ass. He places a hand on each cheek, letting out a low groan as he kneads the flesh.

"I think ten should do it for your punishment this time, sunshine," Hoseok says, warming up the area by alternating between squeezing and rubbing his palms in circles over your cheeks.

"Okay," You say, your belly swooping with nervous anticipation.

"Hoseok," Seokjin hisses, a warning that gets shushed by Jimin.

For a moment, too wrapped up in Hoseok's dominating aura, you had forgotten that they would all feel your punishment. Just like they did back then in the cabin.

Before you can change your mind though, Jimin adds a decisive, "If our baby can handle it, then you can handle it too, hyung."

Seokjin sighs, clearly not willing to put up the fight. "Fine."

Both of Hoseok's hands fall away at that, leaving you exposed to receive your punishment. Hoseok's shirt rustles as he raises his hand and it's the only warning you get before his palm lands heavy on your ass, the impact knocking your breath out of your lungs. The next six spanks come in quick succession, each harder than the last. It's only a small mercy that your skin is still covered, the sting still intense despite the slight padding between you and Hoseok's palm. The noises you've been trying so hard to suppress tumble out at the seventh blow, a strangled gasp passing through your lips as he makes contact.

"Good girl," Hoseok praises, pausing his hits to allow you a moment to regain your breath. He tuts as you try to pull away from the fingers stroking over your smarting cheeks. "Don't make me add more, Y/n. Take the rest of your punishment properly and I promise I'll reward you."

You take a few deep breaths, nodding to let Hoseok know that you'll behave.

The final three slaps are so forceful you're sure you're going to bruise, your body jolting forward over the table as the smacks rain down on your ass. You cry out at the last one, the sound caught between a moan and a whimper as your heart pounds in your chest.

"Fuck, that's hot," Jimin curses, palming himself harder. "Stings like a bitch, though," He whines under his breath.

Hoseok goes back to massaging your cheeks, soothing the hurt down to a more manageable level. His fingers drift up to the waistband of your sweats, hooking into the fabric before he pauses and asks, "Are you ready for your reward now, sunshine?"

"Please," You whimper.

You lift your knees to help Hoseok pull your sweats and underwear off all in one go, legs shaking as you barely manage to raise yourself enough from the table to remove your shirt after.

"Look at you," Hoseok murmurs, gliding his fingers all over your exposed skin. He follows the curve of your spine, only stopping briefly to thumb across your burning cheeks before he drags his hands down your calves. Your breath hitches as he suddenly spreads your legs.

You're mortified to discover that Hoseok's punishment has made you wet, dripping, without you noticing it, your cunt clenching helplessly under Hoseok's burning gaze. "So pretty."

You gasp as Hoseok drags a finger through your slit, rubbing and spreading the wetness all over your cunt. He stills near your entrance, teasing you by barely dipping his finger in before he slides it back up to your clit. The slow rubs around your nub cause your thighs to shake, your senses overwhelmed as he repeats the motion over and over.

"Hoseok, please," You whimper, pushing your hips against his finger as he teasingly tries to dip it in again, the movement swallowing him up to the second knuckle.

"Are you being impatient, Y/n?"

Hoseok pushes his finger deeper, feeling along your walls before he pulls out to add another one, the slide in easy with how turned on you are. It feels good to finally have something filling you up, your cunt clenching desperately around his digits whenever he goes to pull out.

"I'll let it slide just this once, sunshine. It seems your cunt is hungry for something more."

The next thrust of his fingers is harder, slightly curled, and you let out a loud moan as he bumps directly against your sweet spot. Two fingers turn to three, stretching your walls out in preparation for Hoseok's cock. You keep mindlessly moving your hips back, meeting every thrust of his fingers in hopes that you'll take him deeper, feel fuller. The knot in your belly keeps growing tighter and tighter, desperate for that final burst of pleasure to tip you over the scale.

"Wait–" You gasp, throwing a look over your shoulder as Hoseok removes his fingers, your cunt empty and aching with nothing in it.

"Don't worry," Hoseok presses himself flush with your back, his lips ghosting over your ear as he says, "I'm giving you what you want. Your sweet little pussy just needs a hard cock to fuck it good, hmm?"

He rolls his hips against yours, the hardness in his jeans unmistakable. You let out a low keen, breathless as you admit, "Yes, yes, I need it."

"You'll get it, sunshine," Hoseok presses open-mouthed kisses to your shoulders as he works his pants down his hips, his hard cock springing up against his stomach as he frees it from his boxers. Hoseok groans as he wraps one hand around himself, thumbing at his slit to spread the pre-come with a few quick pumps up and down his length.

You both let out a moan as Hoseok rubs the head of his cock through your folds, making it even wetter. He positions himself at your opening, one hand gripping your waist as he pushes inside. Your walls open easily, practically sucking in half of his cock in one go. With how relaxed and eager you are, it only takes one firm thrust from Hoseok to bury the rest of him inside of you.

"Oh gods," You groan, your fingers scrambling over the waxed tabletop for support as you desperately clamp down around his cock.

"Are you ready, Y/n?" Hoseok places both hands on your waist, holding you still. He draws his hips back, leaving only the tip of his cock inside your cunt, teasing. You feel him twitch as you clench around him, his usually composed voice wavering just the slightest as he says, "I'll give you everything you need, you just have to ask."

Your pride is already long gone, vanished into thin air at the first touch of Hoseok's skilled fingers. You're not above begging, not if it'll finally sate the arousal licking up the inside of your stomach.

"Please fuck me, Hobi," You whine.

The grip on your waist tightens, Hoseok's fingers digging into your flesh as he finally gets to hear the words he's only been dreaming about for so long. His eyes are dark are he stares down at your body, as he memorizes the way your cunt clings to his cock, aching to be filled. Not even the loud groan coming from the couch is enough to tear his gaze away, not when he has such a perfect vision right in front of him.

"As you wish, my sunshine."

You have no way of preparing yourself for the way Hoseok snaps his hips forward, slamming into your cunt so hard it makes your back arch. Your arms give out under the brutal pace he sets, your hands fruitlessly gliding across the table for something to hold on to as he punches his cock in with every deep thrust. It's only the tight grip Hoseok has on your hips that keeps you from sliding across the surface.

Your head feels like it's filled with static, no thoughts forming beyond more, please, more, as Hoseok moves in and out of you. The harsh noise of Hoseok's skin slapping against yours causes another gush of arousal to wet your cunt, making it sound absolutely sloppy as he delivers another hard thrust, your slick squelching around his cock.

"Fuck– Fucking hell, Y/n," Hoseok growls, the sound spurring him on as he lowers his thighs to snap his hips even faster, "Are you that desperate for cock, baby?"

Your next moan is torn from your throat as the new angle causes Hoseok's cock to bump straight into your sweet spot, the unrelenting hammering of his length making you see stars. You can't even close your mouth properly to stop the drool that slides past your lips, your whole body numb with pleasure.

Hoseok grunts as your walls flutter around him, his gaze flickering from the dazed expression on your face to the couch. He smirks as he sees Jimin with his hand around his cock, the younger's half-lidded eyes watching your fucked out expression intently as he strokes his length. Seokjin has finally caved too, palming himself slowly over his underwear, jeans discharged to the side.

Hoseok grins as he meets Seokjin's narrowed eyes, his thrusts slowing down in favor of grinding his hips in deep, slow circles. One of his hands slides from your waist to your hair, grabbing a fistful of it to pull your head up. It leaves you staring straight at Seokjin and Jimin, moans and whimpers falling freely from your parted mouth as Hoseok pushes you closer and closer to the edge.

Hoseok pats your side, voice a little mean as he says, "Did you already forget about our competition, Y/n? I need you to look at hyung while I fuck you and let him know that he won't be able to get the same pretty sounds out of you as I am."

"Can you do that, sunshine?"

You shudder as he tugs on your hair, the faint sting traveling straight down to your cunt.

"Y-yes," You gasp, getting your hands under your just enough to raise your head on your own, holding the position Hoseok has left you in.

His fingers drift back down to your waist, ghosting over the skin there before he slips between your legs, grazing over your clit. The contact makes you jolt, and you both moan as it drives his cock deeper into your cunt.

"That's right, it's time for your reward, baby."

He starts rubbing circles against your clit as his thrusts once again turn sharper, quicker. You have to fight to keep your eyes open, to keep holding Seokjin's burning gaze as you're pounded into the table. Being watched so openly, so attentively, only turns you on more. Your whole body is shaking, muscles pulled tight, as the wave of pleasure in your belly begins to crest. You know there's no way you can hold back, not with how determined Hoseok is to make you explode. You're bringing Hoseok there right along with you though, your cunt clenching so sweetly around his cock that he knows he's not going to last very long.

It's a particularly deep thrust combined with Hoseok rolling your clit between his fingers that finally sends you over the edge. You cry out as you reach your climax, trembling as your release washes over you. Hoseok groans as your walls clamp down around him with a vice grip, his hips glued to yours as he grinds once, twice, before stiffening as his orgasm hits. You moan weakly as you feel his come spurt into your cunt, flooding it with warmth.

You're not quite sure when your eyes slipped shut, but when you open them, you find Seokjin practically looming over you from the couch, jaw clenched. He must've pulled his cock out at some point, the length flushed red from the slow, unsatisfying drag of his fingers. You whimper as Hoseok presses a tender kiss to the back of your neck, Seokjin darkly watching the action like he's one second away from throwing Hoseok to the side to take his place.

"You're amazing, Y/n," Hoseok says, massaging your sides as he slowly shuffles back and slips out of you.

You let your head drop to the table, breathing hard as you try to catch your breath. Hoseok keeps rubbing your back until your limbs stop shaking and you feel a little more like yourself.

"Angel," Seokjin calls from the couch, "Are you sure you want to keep going? We can stop if you're tired."

You push yourself up on your elbows, biting your lip as you take in the sight of Seokjin's hand wrapped around his hard cock, squeezing the base to keep his release from building without you. It twitches under your attention, another pearl of pre-come dripping out of the tip to slick up his length even more, coating his flushed skin.

"I'm sure," You nod, glancing up at him through your lashes as you say, "Need you."

"Fuck, alright," Seokjin curses, gripping his cock even tighter. "Come here then, angel, and you'll get what you want."

The simmering heat in your belly roars back to life at Seokjin's words. You carefully push yourself up until you're standing on your feet, Hoseok's hands curled around your arms for support. You can feel Hoseok's come shift in your belly as take a step forward, whining as a bit drips out of your cunt and trails down to your thigh.

Hoseok tsks. "You better keep all of that inside, sunshine. Don't waste another drop."

You clench your walls tight, stumbling awkwardly over to the couch as you try to heed Hoseok's warning. Seokjin has already rid himself of his clothes by the time you reach him, his strong hands pulling you into his lap, making you straddle him.

"Hi, angel," Seokjin smiles, cupping your face to run his thumb across your cheek. He winds the other around your middle, holding you close to his chest.

You practically melt into Seokjin's gentle embrace, nuzzling into his warm hand, "Hi yourself."

Seokjin pulls you down to connect your lips with his, the softness of the first few pecks quickly turning more heated as he slips his tongue into your mouth. You bring your hands behind his neck, gliding your fingers through the soft hair there to tug him closer. The way Seokjin kisses you, hungry yet tender at the same time, leaves your head spinning. He swallows up the moan you let out, tongue twirling around yours as he uses his grip on your waist to grind you against his cock.

You gasp at the first contact, at the feel of his hard cock slipping through your folds, bumping against your clit. You clench helplessly as Hoseok's come begins to leak out of your hole, your walls too stretched to hold it in. The spread of your legs makes it even harder, and the grind of Seokjin's length just arouses you more, making your cunt flutter with the need of being full again. You scrape your teeth along Seokjin's plush lips, whining as you say, "I-I can't–"

His mouth pauses against yours as he feels something wet drip onto his thigh, understanding dawning on him as he feels your skin heat up with embarrassment. Seokjin removes his hand from your cheek in favor of bringing it down to your dripping cunt, scooping up the come clinging to your cunt before he fingers it back into you.

"So messy," He murmurs, mouthing along your jaw as he adds another finger, pumping them slowly back and forth, pushing all of it deeper inside your pussy. The wet sucking sound of your cunt eagerly accepting it all back in makes you moan, eyes slipping shut as you hide your face in Seokjin's neck.

He lets out a low chuckle at your shyness, removing his fingers to replace them with his cock. You mewl into Seokjin's neck as he guides his cock into you steadily, the hand on your waist slowly bringing you down until you're fully seated on his length. You can feel it throbbing deep in your guts, your breaths shaky as you adjust to him.

"Gods, you feel so good," Seokjin moans as your wet, warm walls welcome him in, your and Hoseok's release slicking his cock. He moves both of his hands to your hips, gently rubbing the red marks Hoseok left there.

You lightly raise yourself up before you sink back down, getting yourself used to the position and Seokjin's cock. You move your hands to his shoulders, setting a slow pace that gradually picks up as Seokjin's hands begin to roam. Your hips stutter as he reaches up to cup one of your breasts, flicking your nipple teasingly before he rolls it between his fingers, tugging on it in a way that makes your cunt vibrate with pleasure. He moans at the response he gets, his dark eyes drinking you in.

"Love your breasts," Seokjin groans, leaning forward to take it into his mouth, "You shouldn't keep them covered up, angel."

"Seokjin, fuck," You dig your nails into his back as he closes his lips around your nipple, sucking it into his mouth as he swirls his tongue around the sensitive nub. Your next drop down on Seokjin's cock is a little harsher than before, a choked moan leaving you as your pleasure once again begins to build. Seokjin gives your other breast the same treatment, steadily rocking his hips up to meet yours as you ride him.

He gives your nipple another swipe of his tongue before he kisses his way back up to your neck, biting down in a way you know is going to bruise. He wets the skin to soothe it, repeating the motion all over your throat as you reward him with pretty, breathy whimpers. You eventually grow restless and duck down to capture his mouth, the kisses filthy and messy as you keep rolling your hips.

"Pretty," Seokjin moans between kisses, "You're so pretty, Y/n. Absolutely amazing."

It's only when your thighs start shaking, burning with tiredness, that Seokjin takes over. His large hands grasp your ass, keeping a tight grip on your cheeks as he raises his knees to fuck into you. Seokjin picks up the pace from where you left off, his hands moving your body down to meet every thrust, impaling you on his cock with every stroke. He grunts as you clench down around him when he reaches particularly deep, brushing over your sweet spot.

You slump against Seokjin's chest as he truly begins to lose his restraint, moaning against his skin as he pounds into you. The sting of your red cheeks slapping against Seokjin's hard thighs with every thrust just makes the fire in your stomach roar, the pleasure pain of it getting you to the finish line faster.

You try to meet his thrust the best you can but the way Seokjin reaches so deep into your belly leaves you feeling a little dumbstruck, floaty. It's like your muscles have turned to jelly.

Your cunt sounds sloppy as Seokjin hammers into you, fucking you so hard you swear you can see the outline of his cock in your stomach. Moans and whines fall freely from your lips, Seokjin's name gasped out with every thrust. Your oldest soulmate is feeling more competitive than he first let on and for a half second, you worry he might actually fuck you stupid in his quest to make you come harder than Hoseok could.

You can feel him tensing up more with every thrust, as close to exploding as you are, the sounds of your skin slapping together echoing through the room. You don't want to come too soon, not without letting Seokjin finish too, but his next words do you in.

"You can let go now, angel," Seokjin half groans, half murmurs between one stroke and the next, "It's time to fill your pretty pussy to the brim – to stuff you full just like you wanted."

You cunt spasms the moment you get permission to come, your walls hugging Seokjin's cock so firmly he can barely move his hips as your release hits you like a freight train. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as Seokjin grinds you down against his cock, your clit rubbing over his toned stomach. Your moans are unintelligible, slurred, as Seokjin keeps up his pace for another dozen thrusts. It prolongs your orgasm, your toes curling as Seokjin finally hits his own high.

His loud moan sends another wave of pleasure crashing over you, your cunt massaging his length as he spills into it with hot spurts. Your arms are shaking like a leaf as you push yourself up, just enough to look at Seokjin's face.

He's a sight to behold with his head thrown back, his flushed chest rising and falling with every hard breath. His hair is messy from you tugging on it, his skin glowing with the sheen of sweat that has settled on you both. He looks beautiful.

You clumsily kiss his swollen lips, your body still too fucked out to work properly.

Seokjin opens his eyes slowly, grinning as he says, "There's my pretty girl."

"Are you feeling okay?" He winds his arms around your back, plastering you against his racing heart.

You open and close your mouth a few times, feeling dehydrated and exhausted, the words just a little too far out of your reach.

You blink as Jimin suddenly pops into view, his smile bordering on feral as he reaches out to cup your cheek. "Oh, our poor baby is completely cock drunk," He coos.

You whine out a protest, too tired to engage in Jimin's teasing. He's also not... entirely wrong.

"Thank you for the show, baby, you looked so fucking good," Jimin groans, adjusting himself in his sweats. He must have come while Seokjin was fucking you, too excited by the view in front of him to keep up with his comments. One of Seokjin's moans had sounded a little airer than normal, so you can only conclude that it was Jimin, hitting his own release while you were chasing yours.

"It's a shame you're on birth control, otherwise the hyungs would've bred you so well," He pouts, his eyes shining with something wicked at the reaction it causes.

You can't help but clench down around Seokjin, the dirty talk hot despite you not being close to ready to have kids.

"Jimin," Seokjin warns, his cock twitching with interest inside your warm cunt.

Even Hoseok lets out a pained groan from where he's perched on a nearby chair, his cock half-hard in his jeans.

"Fine," Jimin huffs. He brushes his lips against yours, tone sweet as he asks, "Well then, baby, who won the competition? Which hyung fucked you the best?"

You watch Hoseok tense up just as Seokjin's arms tighten around you, both anxious to know the result. You share a sly look with Jimin – one that makes him chuckle and shake his head – before you turn your face into Seokjin's neck, hiding your smile as you say, "Mhm.. It's a tie."

"What do you think?"

You smack your lips together, savoring the slightly tangy sauce. Yoongi watches you carefully, the spoon still hovering near your lips.

"It's good!" You grin, "I think it's perfect."

Yoongi's smile turns into a pout as he glances down at the spoon, "Ah, but now I can't taste it. Hyung would kill me if I double-dipped."

"Can't you just grab–"

Your words are cut off by Yoongi's lips, a sweet kiss being pressed against your mouth. He lightly sucks your bottom lip between his own, his tongue just barely dipping into your mouth. He flashes you a gummy smile as he pulls back, nodding in satisfaction, "You're right, it is perfect."

"Hey!" You whine, lightly hitting his shoulder, "You totally set me up."

Your heart flutters as Yoongi leans in again, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he says, "Maybe."

He steals another kiss before he turns back to the simmering pot in front of him, the spoon abandoned in the sink. You huff, stepping up behind him to rest your head against his back, your arms wrapping around his middle. Yoongi always smells like forest and warmth, something pleasant you just want to lie down and sleep in.

Yoongi hums a low tune as you stand there, basking in the warmth of his body and the promise of a tasty lunch. He places one hand on top of yours, petting your skin, as he slowly stirs the pot with the other.

"Hyung, I'm hungry!"

You open your eyes to find Taehyung walking into the kitchen, rubbing his stomach with a pout. He brightens up as he sees you, the magazines in his hand thrown to the counter as he quickly rounds it to attach himself to your back.

"Babe, I thought you were still in bed," Taehyung whines against your neck.

"Got hungry," You giggle. You lean more of your weight onto Yoongi, laughing as he complains about having two clingy brats as soulmates. You can see the fond smile on his face as you peek over his shoulder, the way he easily braces his feet to accept the two bodies practically lying on top of him.

"Oh right! How long until the food is ready, hyung? I'm starving," Taehyung sighs dramatically. "My client is a fucking ass, he went almost an hour over time in our meeting complaining about things I can't even fix. It's not my fault his secretary is useless."

"I'm sorry, Tae. Can't you drop him if he's being too unreasonable?" You ask.

Taehyung grumbles against your neck, his body tight with tension, "I wish. He brings too much money to the company to even consider ending the contract with him. He knows he can act like an ass and get away with it because he's practically paying us to babysit him."

Yoongi lets out an annoyed snort, shaking his head as he says, "I hate to say it, but he's not going to be the only shitty client you're going to have to deal with. It comes with the job."

"I know, hyung," Taehyung sighs. "But you know what's not shitty? Your cooking! And having some of your food would definitely brighten me up."

"Brat," Yoongi chuckles. "It'll be done in five minutes, you can go grab some plates while it finishes cooking."

Taehyung gives the back of your head a loud smooch before he skips over to one of the cupboards, doing as Yoongi instructed.

You finally detach yourself from Yoongi's back, smiling at Taehyung's antics as you glance over at the magazines he dropped off earlier. You reach out to shuffle through them, none of them particularly piquing your interest until you catch sight of a flyer tucked between two pages.

You carefully pull it out, excitement thrumming through your body as you realize it's for a flower parade. Your eyes widen as you catch sight of the town name, knowing it's a city that's only about an hour away from your old one. You're not sure if the house is within its limit or if it's just a neighboring one, but it does finally give you an idea of where you are. You quickly glance up at Taehyung and Yoongi, deliberately placing your thumb over the name as you notice that neither of them has seen you with it yet.

"What's this?" You softly clear your throat, grabbing Yoongi's attention as you show it to him.

You see Yoongi's shoulders rise, his eyes frantically scanning the flyer until he sees your thumb. He motions for the paper, angling it away from you once it's in his hands, making sure the town name can't be seen.

"Ah, this," He gives you a slightly uneasy smile, "It's an annual flower parade they do in the town over to celebrate the beginning of summer. It says it's supposed to happen next weekend."

You keep your expression schooled, tucking away that new piece of information into the back of your mind.

"That sounds like fun! Do you think we could go?" You ask, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. "I would love to see it."

You're beginning to border on frantic for a change of scenery, for something that isn't just the four walls of this house. The garden does help and you have been allowed on a few walks around the neighbourhood, but it isn't enough. You will go stir crazy at some point or another if they keep you cooped up here forever.

"What flower parade?" Taehyung walks over to Yoongi, peering down at the flyer. You cheer inwardly as Taehyung's smile broadens to a grin, a pleading expression taking over his face as he says, "Hyung, that looks like so much fun. We should all go watch it!"

You know that Taehyung has a penchant for flowers, that he loves them almost as much as Seokjin does. After all, there's a reason you always received them along with your letters.

"I don't know," Yoongi chews on his bottom lip, eyeing the flyer nervously.

"Hyung," Taehyung whines, "pleaseeee. You know I love stuff like this."

"Why don't we discuss it over dinner?" You propose, knowing you need to calm Yoongi's worried thoughts before he settles on a firm no.

"We'll only do it if everyone wants to go. I would love to experience it with you guys though–" You muster up a soft smile, your heart squeezing painfully at the truth as you say, "I've always wanted to do something like that with my soulmate. It seems really romantic."

Yoongi's gaze is unreadable as he stares down at the flyer. You're almost holding your breath by the time his shoulders finally sag, his voice defeated as he murmurs, "Sure, if that's something you want, we'll discuss it later."

You giggle behind your hand as Taehyung tackles Yoongi into a hug, your heart racing in your chest. As long as you play your cards right, you might finally get that taste of freedom you've been wanting for so long. Luckily for you, after almost eight months trapped together with your soulmates, you know just what buttons to push to sway the boys to your will.

It only takes some begging and a little sweet talk to win the rest of the boys over. Their unease and suspicion quickly melt away as you murmur sweetly about how romantic you find the event – and that while you are nervous about the crowds (a lie), you wouldn't mind it as long as they stick close to you. Taehyung and Seokjin's enthusiasm for it works in your favor too, as Seokjin's bubbling excitement over finally getting to experience the flower parade erases the last of Yoongi's anxieties.

The week leading up to the parade passes syrupy slow, the days dragging on as if they're mocking you. You're a bundle of nerves by the time you're driving into the city, squirming in your seat as you get closer and closer to your goal. If everything goes well during the parade, you'll be one step closer to earning their full trust – to them letting you go.

The blindfold around your head comes off the moment the car passes by the town sign, the boys still taking whatever precautions they can to limit your knowledge about where you are. You already know, of course, but you have no intention of letting that slip. It's better if they think that you don't.

"Here we are, darling," Namjoon offers you his hand as he opens the door for you. His grip is iron-tight as you intertwine your fingers, clearly on edge as you step out to join the rest of the group.

There's an air of tension wrapped around them all as they flock around you, one that doesn't dissipate even when they flank you at all sides as you walk further into town. Jimin has claimed the other side of your body, wrapping one of his arms snuggly around your waist, anchoring you to him. Nervous.

Hoseok and Jungkook keep throwing glances over their shoulders as they walk in front of you, making sure you're still there whenever you go quiet for more than a few seconds. You can practically feel Taehyung and Seokjin breathing down your neck, their steps matching yours perfectly as they hold up the back. Yoongi keeps drifting back and forth like he can't quite decide where he should be to best ensure your safety.

It should be suffocating but their behavior is simply pushed to the back of your mind, unimportant, when you finally lay eyes on actual people, strangers, crossing the street in front of you. A lump forms in the back of your throat as you watch a group of friends spill out of a nearby shop, their laughter echoing in your ears long after they've passed you by.

The town is loud and bustling, music seeping out from every building you pass by. They've embraced the parade to the fullest, decorating the pathways with beautiful florals hanging from every lamp post and flower archways adorning some of the more expensive shops. It's like you've stepped into an explosion of colour as you reach the main street, no stone left undecorated and flowers clinging to every possible surface. The people milling about are just as colourful, the majority of them wearing bright, fun clothing, their faces painted with different patterns and artistic renditions of florals. You've heard talk of this parade before but you had no idea it was this big of a deal, that the townspeople take such pride in the event.

"I think there's an available spot over there!" Jungkook points to somewhere in the middle of the street, leading the group over to the area he saw. It's just big enough for all of you to squeeze into, leaving you almost first in line on the sidewalk to watch the parade.

You've barely planted your feet on the ground when you hear a couple occupy the spot behind you, the rest of the sidewalk filling up quickly as the start of the event draws near.

You look around, taking in the sights around you, your senses a little overwhelmed with the colours and noise after so many months of nothing but your soulmates for company. Your heart is picking up speed, matching the sound of distant drums as your gaze glides from couple to couple, their bright expressions and relaxed postures nothing like the love you know.

The couples across the street hold their lover's hand gently, arms resting loosely around their shoulders to provide a safe bubble against the crowds around them. They lean into each other's bodies for comfort, to bear the ache of standing on their feet for a long time.

Your lovers hold your hand with bruising grips, arms wound around your body like snakes, constricting you tighter and tighter with every breath. There's no comfort in their embrace, not when they cling to you with desperation – like they'd bury themselves under your skin if they only could.

You swallow thickly, your palm going clammy in Namjoon's tight hold.

"You okay, darling?" Namjoon asks, leaning down to make sure you hear him over the crowd.

"I'm fine," You lie, offering him a faint smile, "It's just a lot of people."

"Let me know the moment it becomes too much and we'll leave," Namjoon presses a kiss to your forehead, giving you a worried look. He doesn't turn away until you reassure him that you're okay, your mouth dry with the untruths that keep spilling from it.

You can feel the sun beating down your neck, pearls of sweat forming along your back, sending shivers down your spine as they race down it. Seokjin, now in front of you, is taking pictures, capturing every little detail of the flower arrangements and different colourful species that have been grouped together along the street. The shutter of his camera sounds like bullets firing through the air, quickening your pulse with every snap.

"There it is!" Taehyung grins, pointing down the street.

Your vision feels like it's swimming as you turn your head to look, the drums so loud they force your heart to skip to the beat, sending it into a frenzy. You stare in a daze as people dance and cheer as they walk past you, flower petals raining down as they throw handfuls out of the baskets they're carrying. A float pauses in front of you, the florals an organized mess of every colour you can imagine. There's a particular arrangement you can't look away from, one that fills your stomach with dread.

It's them.

The tower in the middle of the float is made up of red, pink, purple, blue, green, yellow, and orange flowers, the same kaleidoscope of colors that have been haunting you for the past years.

It's like a punch to the gut, reality suddenly snapping back into place. The cheers around you turn muffled, your mind reeling with the possibilities you've been suppressing for so long.

Your mind flashes back to the police station you saw as you drove into town.

This city must be far enough away from your old one that Jimin won't have any connections here. The chances are slim that there are any officers here that are enamored with him, that worship him, like they do where he currently works. They might have heard of him and how he saved Jungkook, but you doubt they would dismiss your case just based on his reputation. Jimin might have already been talking to the officers in your new town, just in case you try something stupid, so this – this might be your only chance at getting real help.

Heejun and Jaemin will for sure corroborate your story, and if the officers are quick, they should be able to secure the needed evidence. You know exactly where your old letters and gifts are stored in the attic. Hell, some of them are even displayed around the house. It shouldn't be difficult to find something incriminating.

But–

Your gaze sweeps to the side, lingering on the boys. Jungkook's precious bunny smile is on display as he watches the dancers move around the street, a hint of awe in his eyes. Taehyung is practically hanging off Seokjin's back, pointing to everything he wants Seokjin to capture with his camera. The boys look mesmerized by the parade, their earlier tension eased by the excitement in the air.

Your soul feels split in half, torn between what you want and what you should do. You don't want to leave them, despite everything they've put you through. They are your soulmates and over the past months, you've grown to really, really like them. The thought of leaving them hurts you, makes your heart ache something fierce, but you also know that you can never have a proper life if you stay. You are terribly worried about what might happen to them – the bond – if you go away, but you're also limiting the possibilities of ever finding a cure for their sickness if you don't. Maybe there's someone out there who can help you and them if you only look.

Jimin's arm has fallen away from your waist during the parade, his hands around his mouth as he cheers for the performers.

You slowly ease your hand out of Namjoon's grip, hoping your smile isn't as shaky as it feels as you quickly explain, "I just need to tie my shoe."

Your knees nearly buckle as Namjoon gives you a once over, terrified that he might somehow catch you out. But Namjoon simply just smiles, showing off his dimples as he nods and turns back to watch the parade.

You take a step back, crouching down to tie your slightly loose shoelace. Flower petals keep flitting around you, carried by the wind as they swoop and dance across the ground. You secure your shoe with a tight knot, the tips of your fingers so cold you can barely feel them from the anxiety crashing around inside your body.

You slowly stand back up, taking another small step back.

None of the boys reach out for you, recapture you, their attention caught by the spectacle in front of them. Your group has been moved around by the crowd enough that another step has you standing behind all of them, watching with labored breath as you wait for their realization that you're not anchored to any of them.

It doesn't come.

The chaos of the parade provides you with the cover you need to inch back, the loud drums and petals covering the ground muffling your footsteps. Your eyes flicker wildly between the seven of them, trying to figure out if any of them have noticed you beginning to slip away, but all you see is the boys laughing and smiling, their focus somewhere else.

The couple that was standing behind you is now in front of you, their bodies forming a small wall, a shield, against your soulmates. The crowd behind you easily part as you advance backward, eager for a chance to get a closer look at the parade. Your body feels like a live wire, dread and adrenaline pumping through your veins at a rate that leaves you dizzy.

Your heart is a jumbled mess of stay, go, stay, go – but your mind knows what it needs to do.

You take a mental picture of the sight in front of you, saving the image of the boys looking happy and beautiful, surrounded by warm sunlight and fluttering petals.

For later. As a reminder that things could be good.

It's only once you've reached the back of the street, the distance between you and them so wide that you can barely see Namjoon's head as he slowly turns to where you once stood, waving hands partially obscuring his face as his expression twists into despair, that you let crowd swallow you whole and run.

a/n: thank you all so much for following along with this story for over three years!! what was supposed to be a short 20k fic suddenly turned into one that was 120k haha, but i've had so much fun working on LS and reading all of your theories have been amazing! 💖 thank you to everyone who voted in the original poll, this story is a collab between you and me :')

i know that the ending will leave some of you with a lot of questions and i can answer the most important one right away: No, I don't have any current plans for a sequel. I have told the story I wanted to tell and I'm happy with where it ended :) However, I might be open to doing some commissions down the line of "missing" scenes from the story if that's something you guys want!

it would mean the absolute world to me if you'd leave me a comment/reblog and let me know what you think of the final chapter! 💖 and if you'd feel so inclined, i do have a kofi if you'd like to support me with a coffee!

thank you all so much again!! i do have a few exciting fics coming up so i do hope you stick around for those!

lots of love, maggy.

#yandere bts #bts smut #bts x reader #yandere x reader #yandere yoongi #yandere jungkook #yandere jimin #hoseok smut #seokjin smut #yandere seokjin #yandere taehyung #yandere namjoon #yandere hoseok

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loserdiaz · 2 months

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no but i can't stop about eddie finding queering the map and being overwhelmed by the amount of stories that resonate with him.

it starts with buck, because of course it does.

buck comes into the station one day, rambling about this site he found online. he's still figuring out bisexuality for himself and has been going down a rabbit hole ever since, reading endless articles and reddit stories and experiences told from so many people.

and something about it, about this particular site, catches eddie's attention. he really can't stop thinking about it, wondering if people from el paso would have any of those pins. if anyone from the place he grew up in, was raised in, ever felt like him.

he can't stop wondering if maybe he was never as alone as he thought he was.

when he gets home, he decides to look for himself— it takes him a while. there's too many black pins and he doesn't quite know how to navigate the huge map on his screen. it takes him a few minutes to get the hang of it.

but when he does— oh, when he does.

right there in el paso, people from the same streets he once rode his bike in, are sharing his experiences. fellow soldiers in the same base eddie trained at.

eddie reads these sacred, secret little messages and feels his heart expand more and more with every each one of them.

some of them makes him laugh and chuckle, teary eyed but amused, like "even the army has gays," and "from one gay cowboy to another."

others, nake him falter. make his bretah hitch inside his chest. make something beautiful and fragile and orecious uncurl from the deepest depths of his soul. make him feel seen in a way he isn't sure he's quite ready to.

messages like— "you're not the only one," and "you'll be okay." "the heaven the people from this town speak of, is not a heaven i wanna be sent to." "i should've told him when i had the chance." "stuck in a warzone, thinking about how i wasted so much time and now i might not make it home to him."

messages that hit a little too close to home. from soldiers still in the closet, struggling to accept themselves and living a lie.

messages from dumb teenagers, scared of the future— just like eddie had been once.

messages from people braver than he ever could be, sharing the stories of how they came out to their families and moved across the country to be able to live their truest selves.

eddie spends hours and hours just reading post after post, goingbthrough as many lins as he can and drinking them in as a dying, thirsting man in the middle of the driest desert. he reads until the light from the comouter makes his head hurt and his eyes burn everytime he blinks.

at the end, before closing the tab, he decides to put on his own note.

📍not sure if I'll ever be ready to say it out loud, but I love him. i'm too late. I've lost my chance. this changes nothing, my heart is still in his hands.

he clicks on add and feels the tiniest amount of weight lifting from his shoulders.

#i.... don't know what's this tbh #queering the map #eddie diaz #buddie #kinda #evan buckley #911 abc #911 on abc #april writes #my writing #911 ficlet #911 fic #buddie ficlet #buddie fic

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a-spes · 4 months

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| PRETTY FACES, DARK SOULS - Chapter one (4,382 words).

| Summary - you rob the wrong person and she makes sure that you pay your debts, willingly or not.

| Tags & warnings - Minors DNI, Dark CEO!Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader, just fluff for the moment, slight angst (if you squint), mentions of sex.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three.

Your eyes meet their reflection in the mirror, looking for the slightest detail that isn’t right but, if you were seeking for imperfections, you are unable to find any.

Everything was perfect, and even you were struggling to recognize your face, you would have probably fallen into your own trap and that thought satisfies you. It took you several hours locked up in that dingy room to achieve this result, but you have no regrets as you are eventually able to look at your disguise.

No one would have guessed that you were the one hiding behind that mask that changed every feature of your face.

No one knows you enough to be able to notice the smallest details in your attitude that were giving hints about your true identity. You were sure that no one would notice the way you are moving your head when being disturbed by something or your hand constantly running in the skin of your hands. There are a lot of small habits you tried to suppress, but it was in vain, every of your persona inevitably ended up having a part of you in them.

Despite the dust covering the mirror, you can admire every feature of who you are going to be tonight: Lydia Golvorezova. She looks like an angel and it’s not only because her hair is so blonde that it looks white or because of her porcelain skin and innocent eyes that makes her look like a doll, but mainly because she is stunning. There is something unreal in her beauty that gives the impression that she couldn’t possibly be human.

This name was never yours, but it fits perfectly the person you could see in the mirror right now. It was perfect to embody the innocence and naivety you were reading in her eyes, it was perfect to give the feeling of power and fragility at the same time.

The way you have done your makeup only adds to the effect. In appearance, it is something really simple, but the truth is that it took you hours to get that result as you wanted to look as perfect and young as possible.

It is not that you are old, only being an adult for a few years now, but you figured out that the younger you look, the easier things are. Most of the people you are going to meet tonight have a preference for girls that haven't been broken by life yet, for the ones that haven't harsh features accompanied by a cold gaze: they like what is easy to manipulate.

They are desperate to feel powerful and it’s becoming pitiful, even ridiculous.

When you entered the toilets of the gas station, hours ago, nobody paid attention to you because you were blending in perfectly with your surroundings. It is that you are not as interesting as Lydia Golvorezova, nor as rich. No one ever notices the young girl with stained clothes, they even avoid her gaze at all cost, scared she would ask for money — if only they knew that she is the same person than the one they can’t take their eyes off now.

If you’ve arrived discreetly, you can’t say the same thing when you leave the room. You could feel the gaze of the few customers that were here on your back, but the worst is probably the cashier’s one. You have to clear your throat as a reminder that you are waiting so that her gaze would stop wandering for a little too long where it shouldn’t be, even for a brief moment.

While she is scanning your articles with obvious embarrassment, you can’t help but smile. You love the way she avoids your gaze, the way her cheeks are flushed and how her voice is only a whisper when she tells you how much you owe. The poor thing probably fears that you would snap at her for such an offense, but honestly you were just enjoying the situation.

You love it when they fall that easily in the trap you set for them.

Tonight, to match your makeup, you decided to wear a black dress that you bought just for the event. Your back is bare and it reveals enough of your chest to catch the attention without being vulgar: it’s right at the frontier between what’s elegant and what’s indecent, and that’s why it’s the perfect choice.

You wish you could keep it, but even the money you’re stealing isn’t enough for you to afford such things: you need it to buy things that are essential to your life, and no matter how pretty you're in that dress, you could survive without it.

Again, the story between the luxurious dress you choose and you is going to be nothing more than a one night thing. It will be returned tomorrow, as soon as the store opens — you didn’t even take the price tag off. But you’re hopeful that, one day, you will be able to purchase that kind of clothes for real, that you will be one of those people that shop without looking at the prices before they pay.

It always takes you so much time to prepare yourself because everything needs to be perfect. When your life is at stake, paying attention to every detail is the key, you can’t take the risk to be recognized, no one should be able to see behind the mask you decide to wear.

So, when you get the confirmation that you’ve made the right choices, it is always a deep relief. You tried to gather as much information as you can on tonight's event and the people that are supposed to come, but in the end there is always a lot left to chance. You can spend as much time as you want preparing yourself for what’s coming, it’s impossible to predict everything.

You are not from the same world as them, you’re just pretending to be, and it doesn’t matter how many times you did it with success, you'll always be an outsider. There are so many rules that you don’t know that something as insignificant as a word or a look could be enough to give your identity away.

Hopefully, for the moment everything seems to go fine, the dress you choose was perfect for this evening, at the frontier between elegant and indecent, and no one seems to notice the intruder.

A driver left you in front of the expensive hotel that hosts the event, and you barely had time to unbuckle your belt that a butler was already opening the door for you, helping you to get out of the car. You have to fight the urge to refuse the hand he is holding out to you, and take it with a smile on your face instead. You constantly need to remind yourself about where your place is tonight: at the top of the pyramid, among the ones that do nothing by themselves.

For someone like you, someone that has been on their own for most of their life, it’s weird to be assisted to this extent, and you hate it as much as the first time. This man complies to every of your demands because he fears you, and not because he wants to, let alone because he's paid for it — his salary probably not being enough for the evening he’s going to have.

If only he knew your reality is closer to his than it’s from theirs, you thought as he walked you toward the entrance, but you can't share it with him. You have to play along, to pretend that you’re Lydia Golvorezova perfectly if you don’t want to ruin your plans, even if it includes being rude with a man for whom you have compassion.

Tonight, the butler didn’t get anything from you except a ridiculous penny that you gave him as if he should be grateful for it, as if this action was a symbol of infinite kindness — which he is going to do, thanking you a lot of time for that. The whole time, not a word has been exchanged, you would rather keep your voice for the ones that are worth the effort.

Just like the man that caught your eyes the moment you entered the luxurious hall, Clint Barton. You read an article about him a few days ago, he works as a bodyguard for heads of major companies, despite what one might think, his position makes him an influential and wealthy man, everything you are looking for tonight, so you didn’t hesitate much before making your way toward him.

“Excuse me?” you asked, clearing your throat to get his attention, and you felt the glance of every man he was previously talking with on you, the sudden attention made you feel uncomfortable. “May I?” you added, accompanying your words by a small gesture of the hand toward the glasses of champagne he was standing in front of, feigning being so interested by those.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” he said, immediately stepping aside so you could access the table. “I am sorry for that, miss .. ?” he added and you can’t help but grin at his attempt to learn your name - it was almost too easy.

You barely exchanged a few words, nothing out of the ordinary, but he was already crushing himself to fulfill your desires, already eager for more, and the way he is gazing at you leaves no doubts on the thoughts in his mind, something too indecent for a place like that one.

“Golvorezova, and you?” you replied, the false name slipping easily out of your mouth as you slip nimbly between him and the men he was previously talking to.

It is hard to not smile, to pretend that you didn't notice the way they are glancing at you, with anger and frustration, because you’ve just ruined their only chance to talk to him, too bad that you don’t care. Tonight, Barton is yours.

You don’t care more about the glasses of champagne than you do about these guys, it was just a way to get what you want. You’ve been fond of alcohol, you’ve seen how it changes people’s minds, taking control of their thoughts and bodies, and you would rather continue to use it to your advantage than becoming a victim of it. Even a sip of alcohol could be dangerous, and you would be stupid to drink while working, so you’re just pretending to enjoy the champagne.

“Barton,” he replied briefly, holding his hand out to you for you to shake - which you did with a faint smile on your lips.

“So, do you already know what you're going to bid on?” you asked, trying to pursue the conversation.

You both glance around for a few seconds, not a word is exchanged, just a shrug that underlines his boredom. Despite this party being marked as a charity event, most of the guests are here for other reasons: make an appearance, meet future associates, talk about business, show the world how rich and powerful they are, … there are many reasons for their presence, but none of them is disinterested. His answer is proof that he doesn't care about what’s for sale, maybe he doesn’t even know for whom the benefits are. He will drop an outrageous amount of money, just to pretend he did something good to help those people when he is the cause of their pain, people like you getting their lives destroyed by people like him.

Tonight isn’t about charity, it's about power and influence. That’s why you’re always tense when attending those events, the stakes are bigger than they are for a private party, and so are the risks. Tonight, the whole world has its eyes on what’s happening in that hotel. If you make a mistake, everyone will know, because no one escapes the spotlight tonight, and you're no exception to the rule.

“But, I think I’ve just found the most precious prize,” he said as his gaze came back to you, his smirk letting no doubt about the true meaning behind his words. Maybe if he was a bit more observant he would've noticed how your grip tightens on your glass.

You can’t help but smile, a sign he is going to misinterpret for sure, because behind it, it’s your disgust that’s hidden. He is probably something like twice your age, at least, and doesn’t seem to be interested in anything other than your body.

But the money is worth every sacrifice.

You are about to give him the reply he probably waits to hear, but you are cut before you can even say one word. It is a feminine voice whose tone makes your blood run cold, and even though her words aren’t addressed to you, you feel like you’re the one that did something wrong.

“Does Laura know about your plans?” she asked, and from the way he glanced at her, you guess that she doesn’t.

You felt the woman’s hand on your shoulder before you could see her face. It is only when he left that she took his place, allowing you to meet her gaze. She is stunning, and contrary on you, she wasn’t just playing to be pretty, she truly was.

“Men…,” she sighed as she looked at him walking away, but the truth is that he doesn’t really leave, you can still feel his gaze on you, even from the other side of the room. “I hope he didn't bother you? He can be a bit… inconsiderate sometimes, especially with the pretty girls,” she added, and you realize she is looking you up and down, her glance wandering a bit longer at the same places than the man’s one earlier.

She is not better than him, you thought, maybe a few years younger than he is, but that’s all, they’re from the same world, you have to remind yourself when you realize you too were observing her for a bit too long.

On the outside, you’re still smiling, letting nothing appear on what’s disturbing your mind, but somehow having the feeling that she knows, and you only shake your head, letting her know that everything is fine.

“I don't think I’ve ever seen you …,” she added once she understood you wouldn't say anything, not letting you a chance to find an excuse to slip through her fingers.

Despite appearances, and how friendly the conversation seems to be, the atmosphere is tense between the two of you, it’s like a game has started ; which one is gonna find the other’s secret first? And she never loses a game.

If she interrupted your conversation with Barton, it wasn’t to help you, but him. She doesn't care about his wife, Clint can cheat on her if he wants, it's none of her business as long as his problem doesn’t impact his work, and you look exactly like that kind of problem.

If there is something she cares about, it’s the raptors that get a little too close to her associates, especially the ones that would easily give off information about her business, and Clint may be good at his job, but he doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut.

She doesn't trust you, and one glance was enough for her to get to that statement. If it wasn’t for Clint, she wouldn’t even have talked to you, but she knows how naive he can be sometimes - and maybe this conversation will help her to point out the thing that bothers her about you, something she hasn’t figured out yet.

“It’s probably because it’s my first in the United States,” you replied, your voice dripping with false sympathy.

You don’t like the woman either, but at least you are hiding your thoughts, something she doesn’t even try to do. You are smiling at her, the expression on your face being so innocent that she questions her instincts, you don’t even seem to catch the threats behind her actions or the true meaning of her words — how someone that oblivious ended up attending such an event? Something she wouldn’t have thought if she was able to see the rage hidden behind your smile, the frustration, the hatred that is slowly growing, because every second spent with her reduces your chances of success.

She sent Barton away, but most importantly, she doesn’t seem to believe everything you say as he would have, and the way she hummed after your last answer gave you a feeling of danger, something is telling you to give up the mission, but you don’t.

“I don’t think I know you either,” you replied, the words slipping from your mouth almost on their own. The conversation probably could have ended up here, if only you hadn't been so curious, if you didn’t genuinely want to learn more about the woman.

“Romanoff,” she eventually said, she seems about to add something else but hesitate for a few seconds before talking, deciding to keep the rough comment she was about to make for herself, “but you can call me Natasha, if you want,” she added, her tone softening to the surprise of you both.

The last words fell from her lips on their own, and they felt like the right thing to say. Maybe it is the way you’re looking at her, with those innocent eyes and smile, that led her to let her guard down so easily. She is trying to find an explanation, but the only satisfying one that comes to her mind is that you are an angel, sent to charm her with that pretty face.

An angel, that’s the word, the only one that’s strong enough to describe what she is seeing right now. From the way the dress follows your curves to the soft features of your face, everything is perfect in her eyes, and even if she tried to, she can’t find a single defect, any more than she is able to keep her suspicions.

She even feels guilty for the way she talked to you previously, her words had been so harsh when you seem to genuinely just want to talk with Barton, not even knowing her name, something unbelievable for someone from her world, someone used to always be a target for everyone, never a friend to anyone.

But you are not from the same world as her, or Barton, she can tell just by looking into your eyes, and that’s the whole problem, because she has no idea how to evolve around someone of your kind, someone that doesn’t even know her name. Her reality is rough, a place where pity and kindness doesn’t exist, where everything is just about who’s the most powerful, it is a world without limits, without morals, and you are the complete opposite.

You are looking like you are made of glass, and when she looks into your eyes, the only thing she sees is the innocence one can only find in the gaze of children. She can tell that you haven’t been broken by life yet, which is a miracle on this planet, and a part of her wants to protect you. She knows it is a selfish wish, because she wants to lock you in a golden cage, somewhere you would be safe and get everything you need, except your freedom. She would hate to see an angel being corrupted, not when they are so rare.

“You can call me Lydia then,” you replied, surprised but satisfied by the turn the events took, maybe you still have a chance to complete the mission. You have no idea what changed her mind, and you don’t question it, but you notice that you somehow now have the woman wrapped around your little finger, and you barely did a thing.

“Lydia,” she repeated after you, as if she needed to say it to believe it, to be sure that you existed, and that you are not some sort of dream, “let me show you around then,” she added, coming back to reality, “the city has a lot of secrets, and I am sure you would appreciate at least some of them.”

Even if it sounds like a question, it is not. She is almost begging you to follow her, as if you would be the one doing a favor to her, when in reality it is the opposite. When you nod, a genuine smile appears on her face, she seems relieved, as if she feared that you could say no. You barely have time to say a word that her hand was already on your lower back, applying a light pressure to guide you outside.

Despite what you said earlier, you know exactly who Natasha Romanoff is, it would have been impossible to ignore her identity when her face is everywhere on the news and streets. However, apart from her name, you don’t know a lot about the woman. She is quite mysterious, always refusing interviews, never answering personal questions, and nothing can be found online, she is a ghost.

All you know are the rumors that depict her as someone that gets everything she wants, and it’s no coincidence that she is now at the head of one of the richest companies on earth. She built her fortune from scratch, and some people say that if she was able to earn that much money so quickly, it’s because part of her business is illegal. However, there is no proof of that, and it’s probably just an idea her opponents are fueling in the hope that it will tarnish her reputation, and impact her business at the same time.

Perhaps you would have acted more prudently if you had those rumors in mind when talking to the woman, but those were forgotten the moment her hand found its way on your back, the way her thumb is brushing circles on your skin being so soft that you let your guard down. For once, maybe you’re going to enjoy the evening, and maybe you will come home feeling something that isn’t self-disgust.

Maybe she is a mean CEO, that would explain the rumors, but maybe life left her no choice, maybe she is a bit like you, a woman that tries her best to survive in this world. When you observe her face under the moonlight, it’s all you can think about.

✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧

It is later that day, in the secret of her hotel room, that everything happened. Just as usual, you convinced your victim to make the night last a bit longer, and she brought you to that luxurious room where she is staying. It has been only the two of you, and you actually enjoyed the feeling of her hands on your skin. The praises she whispered in your ears when you were begging her, desperate for the release she denied you, is all you can think about as you are leaving the building the next morning.

The thought of the dirty things she did and told to you are enough to make you blush again, and you are surprised to realize that you’re already missing her presence. You chase those thoughts away, far from your mind, by telling yourself that it was just a play, something that needed to be done, and she will probably be quick to forget about your existence.

She probably used you as much as you did anyway, you noticed the way she looked at you as if you were a porcelain doll, something to possess, something to break. It was a one night thing for the both of you, and it’s probably better that way.

However, this morning, when you woke up, you were reluctant. You wanted to stay in bed, in the warmth of the bed forever, you almost left without stealing anything, feeling guilty to do that to the woman — it was easier when you were hating your victim. You would’ve probably left without taking anything if you didn’t need the money so badly, and you’re sure she won’t miss a few dollars.

By the time she notices you are gone, you are already far away. She was getting out of the bathroom, asking you what you would like for breakfast, and the silence that met her question made her realize that the room was empty, you left.

She was standing in the middle of the room, wrapped in a towel, and her eyes were scanning the room with desperation. The only proof that last night was real are the memories of you beneath her, and a piece of paper on the bedside table. She immediately reached for it, but the paper didn’t say much, and the few words you wrote left a feeling of disappointment in her chest: “Sorry, I have to go, but thanks, the night was cool.”

She doesn’t know what she was hoping for, but for sure she was hoping for more than that, maybe your number, or a promise to come back. It made her feel so silly, and she crumpled the paper before throwing it away, erasing the only evidence of your visit in her room.

Natasha would have liked to share one last moment with you, she thought about getting breakfast at that fancy restaurant across the street. She is thinking about how you would have enjoyed watching the sun rise over the city, as she is sitting here alone. She wished she had a chance to say goodbye to you, because maybe then she would’ve been able to get your number, or anything that would have allowed you to stay in touch, or maybe you didn’t want to. Perhaps you learned about the rumors, and that’s why you left so quickly this morning.

She has been here for maybe one hour when a waitress brings her the note. She was lost in her thoughts the whole time, and barely ate the expensive breakfast she ordered, but she couldn’t care less, money is not a problem when you are one of the richests people on that planet. But to her surprise, when she looks into her wallet, she finds it empty — you only left a few coins.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three.

| Tag list : no one atm, but if you're interested, let me know!

#a spes writing #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff fanfiction #dark natasha romanoff #reader insert #female reader #mcu au #mcu women #mcu fanfiction #pretty faces dark souls

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loveindefinitely · 5 months

Text

༊*·˚ FOREVER WINTER (IF YOU GO) — task force 141 x reader

04 — I'M HERE REGARDLESS OF THE PAIN

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + (non-endgame phillip graves)

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, enemies to lovers, slow burn, polyamory, ghostsoap, pricegaz, alerudy, heavy angst, requited unrequited love, graphic violence

series masterlist. read on ao3. fanfic playlist.

<- previous part | next part ->

As it turns out, ‘real men’ fight bloody.

It’s a difficult journey, your escape, and you end up killing more men than you had ever planned to. With comms blaring in your ears, the weight of an assault rifle in your hands, and the windy night brushing against your clammy skin, you find yourself lost in the thrill of battle.

Everything comes to a head, however, when an unfamiliar voice enters your comms, and both Soap and Ghost seem to deflate with relief.

It’s with the roaring of a helicopter overhead, bullets flying by your running body, that a deep, gravelly British voice trickles into your ear – like the eye of a hurricane.

“All stations, this is Bravo Six – Get down!”

You’re not sure who ‘Bravo Six’ is, or why he’s helping you, but the telltale spark that sparks at the base of your spine has your entire being – your soul – ready to put your life in this man’s hands. It’s an all-consuming, threatening need, but one you find yourself clinging to regardless.

Whatever mental dilemma that is starting to form immediately gets put away with the rest of your ongoing ones. Your focus is now entirely set on the figure on top of the wall, firing a rocket at the enemy’s helicopter. As the pilot loses control of the aircraft, you can feel the thrum in your chest as it crashes and burns into the prison’s ground.

“It’s Price!” Ghost cries out, the most… not joyful, but pleased, maybe, that you’ve ever heard the man.

“Hell fuckin’ yeah!” Soap adds, and when you flit your gaze to your left, you see the beaming grin on his blood-speckled face. In the giant, bright lights surrounding the grounds, you can see all of his intricacies, even when running and shooting down Shadows.

Price, you now recognise the voice as belonging to, commands you all through the radio once more. “All Bravo and Vaqueros,” he barks, “Top o’ the wall. Get here and I’ll get you out. How copy?”

He’s a Captain, through and through. From his delivery, requiring no disobedience, to the undertone of compassion for his men. He’s the kind of man you’d be blessed to work alongside with – a true, hard earned leader.

“Loud and clear, Price. Comin’ to ya!” Ghost copies, and it feels as though the air around the lot of you has grown thick with tangible, genuine hope.

Rodolfo, closest to your right, looks to you with raised brows, before calling out to Soap and Ghost to your left, “Who’s he?”

Soap’s returning smirk is hardened, a hint of bloodthirst in it. The wrapping around his arm has, miraculously, remained on, with only a small patch of blood bled through. It’s a relief, and a compliment to your handiwork. “A friend,” he chuckles, and you believe it.

“I like him already,” Alejandro barks a laugh, before tilting his head to call out to his men, “¡Vaqueros, vayan al muro, entre las torres, ya!”

You can’t help the small smile that creeps onto your face, amidst the sheer panic inside of you. It’s easy to fall into the heat of the moment, the camaraderie and community.

As the five of you stop mere feet away from the wall, you see ropes get dropped down by the figure on top, allowing for all of you to ascend. Price tells you all as much, before you're clicking your ascender into place, and being shot up the rope.

You’re just behind Soap and Ghost, watching as two men – you’re assuming the one with the boonie hat is Price – grab their hands and pull them up.

They all greet each other, and it hits you what they are. Who they are.

This is the 141 of every soldier’s nightmares. This is the 141 who Soap’s confirmed is closer than anyone will ever know. This is the 141 that takes down enemies by each other’s sides, forever on each other’s six.

It’s odd, being an outlier, someone watching on from outside of their circle. Like a spectator in a real life motion picture, or a cameraman capturing the essence of a love so deep, no one could tell where it started and ended.

They barely pass a few words amongst each other, before each of them move to help the rest of you up.

It’s the other stranger – a man with tight, dark curls, and electrifying brown eyes, that stretches his hand out for you to take. With one breath to decide, you let your hand fall into place against his, your skin heating from the very first touch.

Time seems to stop, just for a moment, as the two of you make eye contact for the first time.

His eyes. They’re such a deep, earnest brown, and the dimples etched into his cheeks look as if they were made to be admired. He, like Soap, has a light dusting of freckles across the highlights of his face, and if one were to tell you he was carved from stone, you’d believe it.

In reality, this assessment lasts less than a few seconds, before he’s pulling you forward.

But he’s too strong, too fast with it, and you quickly find yourself crashing into his chest, your nose hitting against his collarbone, sending a sharp pain through it.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry, love,” he rambles out, quickly placing his large hands on your shoulders and keeping you at arms distance, eyes flickering up and down your frame. And, oh, his voice. It’s like honey against velvet, warm and soft and accented.

“It’s alright,” you manage to say, around the stiffness of your jaw.

He, too, seems at a loss for words, his brows pushing together in confusion. Before either of you can continue your conversation in your small bubble, Soap bursts it with easy charisma.

“Ale, Rudy,” he jerks his head towards the two newest additions to the small group, before looking to you, “Sweetheart.” You can feel your cheeks heat, your knuckles whitening against the strain of fisting your hands. “Meet Captain Price and Sergeant Garrick.”

It’s a true insult to be referred to as such a vitriol-lidden endearment, especially when being introduced to the 141’s Captain. And the man who you can’t quite get a feel of – the one still watching you, now.

“Thanks for the assist. My men need cover fire,” Alejandro yells over the sounds of gunfights and firearms, reloading his rifle as he does so.

There’s a collective, exciting thrum to the air, your body coming alive within it. A rooted, organic part of you instinctively forces your attention to Price, who immediately commands his team; “The lot of you! Overwatch – now!”

It’s a good call, and quickly adjusting a scope onto the head of your rifle, you move to kneel and aim over the small stone wall.

Peeking over it, you manage to shoot a few in an arm or a leg – not fatal wounds. If you were at all thinking, you’d realise it was a self-preservation technique; when your body would finally crash from the adrenaline, the pure agony of killing your men would, maybe, lighten. Just a bit.

You jolt when Price barks a warning, “Vehicles incoming, right side!”

Quickly adjusting your stance, you manage to catch a glimpse of the said vehicle, its body covered in the shadows.

“That vehicle’s rigged –” Ghost calls to your left side, but by his dampened tone, you can tell the words aren’t directed to you, “Soap, detonate it!”

Through the scope of your rifle, between one moment and the next, orange and yellow fill your line of sight; nothing visible but the heart of an explosion. You can’t help your deep, surprised exhale, but the sound of Soap’s manic laughter soothes the tension in your shoulders.

“¡Escalen, Vaqueros! ¡Es su oportunidad!” Alejandro shouts through his comms, at the same time that Ghost calls out their status, “Vehicle destroyed!”

Ghost’s voice is such a deep timbre – all dominance and command, guttural and raw and gravelly. You feel almost guilty, how easily you find yourself clinging to their instructions, even if you outrank them all. Like scotch tape over your cracking porcelain brain, a quick fix; a necessary one, if you don’t want to break on this very cement.

“Shadows in the right side tower, watch your backs!” Price calls, and you instantly pivot to direct your gun to the stone tower to your right, hands assuming the most stable position on your rifle without a single tremble.

Your eyes go wide as you watch Soap storm in, efficiently taking down all of the Shadows within with easy shots and a final slice of his knife.

Minutes pass, then, yelling of orders, Soap landing shots of his grenade launcher, Shadows going down without a single KIA caused by your trigger.

It’s when Alejandro calls out to his soldiers, pushing his tactical glasses up and securing his rifle on his back, “Vamos, avancen rapido- mientras está despejado!!” That you let yourself breathe. In, out, the feel of your chest rising and falling with the sound of destruction all around you.

The rest of the previously captive soldiers rush up the ropes, you extending your hand and pulling up a few, just like the rest of the men on top of the wall.

“We’re good to go, coronel,” Rodolfo turns to report to Alejandro, his expression firm, a thin clinging of sweat shining with the fire of explosions below. A few small cuts decorate his face, one just nicking a mole on his upper cheek.

Alejandro nods, allowing himself a smirk to stretch over his face, before looking to you all with a narrowed gaze. “Let’s get out of here, hermanos y hermana.” You will never admit the small, blooming part of you that craves that kind of inclusion – how he adjusts to your presence in such small ways.

“Down the wall,” Price jerks his chin, wiping a hand over the scruff of his beard as he prepares to exfil, looking behind you all. “We are leaving!”

Your heart stutters in your chest – a sudden, all-consuming thought erupting in your brain like wildfire. If you surrendered – turned, and begged for the Shadows to take you to Graves – would they? Was there any hope of return, of normalcy, a way for you to go back to the life you always knew?

A sudden hand around the nape of your neck has you startling out of your wandering thoughts, your eyes fluttering where they meet near-black ones.

Ghost.

“You know how to get down, dontcha?” He tilts his head, the words coming out deadly soft in the gunfire surrounding you both.

With shaky, unsure movements, you nod.

He squeezes his hold on your scruff tighter, studying you like one would study a germ under a microscope. He leans in – his mask brushing the side of your ear as he seethes, “Then get down, Sweetheart.”

If he knew of your inner struggle, or if it was merely a coincidence, you aren’t sure.

All you know is that he’d just saved you. Intentionally or not – he had rescued you from both the Shadows, and yourself. With a firm nod of your own, you shoulder him off of you, and rappel down the wall.

As soon as your feet hit the muddy ground, you focus in on the exfil vehicles up ahead, the lights no longer shining on you all. Hints of sunrise peak over the horizon, the small bits of hazy orange decorating the men near the vehicle.

Two more footfalls echo behind you, and when you look over your shoulder, it’s to find both Soap and Price.

“These are ours,” Price affirms, pointing to the two vehicles in front of you. When his eyes meet yours, his jaw sets minutely, and you're quick to look away and to the rest of the group.

“Check,” Alejandro nods.

Soap, jogging up to the vehicle, gestures to Rodolfo, “Take the truck we came with,” the man quickly agreeing and rushing back to join his Colonel and men.

“¡Vaqueros, siganme...! ¡Rudy, movamos el rancho!” Yells Alejandro, jerking his head towards the other man, Rodolfo quickly responding, “Sale, Coronel, suerte.”

Adrenaline continues to rush through your veins like a second blood, your muscles loose and ready to react to the smallest snap of a twig. Turning your brain off is second nature, at this point, the rush of unneeded thoughts shut off like a faucet.

Directing Price to follow their lead, you find yourself lost on where to go – Rodolfo was the closest thing you had to a supporter, but at the end of the day, the deal had been made with the 141. Not the Los Vaqueros.

“Gaz, drive!” Price directs, before his steely blue eyes find you, frosting over, allowing you no way of reading his emotion. “You’re with us.”

…There’s your answer, you suppose.

The five of you manage your way into the vehicle, Gaz roughly hopping into the driver’s seat and the other three rushing into the back. Soap’s hand finds its way around your wrist as you go to hop in, pulling you forward roughly.

Elbowing him with a somewhat immature huff, you try and get comfortable, but being squished in with three other six-foot-something bulky men makes the act difficult.

It’s the least of your problems, really, because as soon as you stop your fussing around, all eyes are on you.

“You lot have three seconds to tell me what the hell is goin’ on,” Price grits out from under his breath. Somehow, it comes out a hundred times more terrifying than if he had yelled it.

Two nervous seconds pass, and just when you think that this is finally going to be the end of your road, Soap babbles out, “The lass is with us now. Sir.”

Knees spread, Price runs a tired, weathered hand down his face, letting out a long-suffering breath.

“...Where’s she from? A stray?” He asks, looking to the two – so dismissive, you just can’t help yourself. You’d earned your title, you were worthy of respect, even if it was from the Captain of the 141.

“She’s right here,” you retort, voice hard and unbudging – even when six eyes lock onto you once more. “And she is a Colonel. One who just killed her men because she wasn’t going to turn a blind eye to war crimes. Who just saved the lives of your men, for no reason but her humanity. Is that what you wanted to hear, Captain?”

Visceral, tangible silence fills the metal walls of the vehicle once more.

That is, until a low, impressed whistle from the front breaks it. Gaz. You look into the rearview mirror, meeting his smile-crinkled eyes. “Definitely what I wanted to hear,” he says, a grin on his elegant features, the minute lighting of the horizon cascading his skin is silky pastels.

“...Sweetheart ‘nd Johnny got in a scuffle while we were on the run,” Ghost supplies, eyes darting to yours for a second before focusing in on Price. “She gave him mercy. We agreed to enter a… mutually beneficial agreement.”

“Mutually beneficial?” Soap guffaws, then groans when you elbow him against his injured arm, his head hanging between his shoulders.

Staring down Price, you straighten your spine. “I help you all survive Graves and get the job done. You give me the resources necessary to knock some sense into him.”

Price raises an unimpressed brow, looking at the three of you in a strange sense of exasperated disappointment. “By ‘knock some sense into ‘im’,” he uses air quotes, “We help you kill ‘im?”

That is the biggest question of all.

Could you – would you – kill him? The man who was your everything; boss, provider, family, lover. If it meant protecting the greater good, if it meant sacrificing yourself, would you allow yourself to deliver the final bullet to his brain?

“No,” you manage, voice cracking softly when you look down to where your hands fist against the fabric atop your thighs. “This isn’t him. I don’t know what’s going on, but…” You swallow, finally looking at Price in the eye once more. “I just want things to go back to normal. He’ll come around.”

It’s like you’ve rolled over and bared your throat to the four men, allowing vulnerability in such a trapped space.

“And if there is no saving him?” Price asks, leaning his forearms against his thighs, entwining his hands together as he studies you. “We’re taking ‘im down, but…” Rolling his tongue against the back of his teeth, he considers for a moment, before nodding to himself. “We’ll allow ya to speak to ‘im. If anything goes haywire…”

“You’ll kill him,” you fill in the blanks, the words sounding hollow even to your own ears. They taste wrong on your tongue, the syllables like sour milk.

“He tried to kill us both,” Soap spits out, his right leg bouncing as he looks around the van. “Yer lucky we’re giving ye this much.”

“I could’ve killed you,” you state, the words anything but a lie. They seem to shut him up, at least.

“Save the squabbling for later,” Price cuts in, a direct order to you both. You could, if you wanted to, point out that you were both of equal rank, really, but you decide against it. If you had it your way, you’d have the Captain of Task Force 141 liking your company. “What the hell happened to you, MacTavish?”

MacTavish is certainly a new one – if you had to take a guess, it’d be Soap’s last name.

With a roll of his eyes, Soap jerks his chin to his bandaged upper arm. “Got shot. Through and through. Sweetheart bandaged me up.”

“Where’d that one come from?” Gaz asks from the front, watching through the rearview mirror. “Sweetheart. Got a crush, Johnny boy?”

“Oh feck off,” Soap grumbles, casting a soft glare to the man up front. “Hen gave me those sweetheart lollies when aye was bleedin’ out. Had nothin’ else.”

Gaz hums as if to say that he does not believe that story for a second, and you see all four of them seemingly… relax. Easing, like how one would as they stepped through their front door after a long day at work. Familial and comforting and…

Not for you.

You don’t belong, that voice once again echoes through your ears, and this time, it’s harder to shut it out. It doesn’t matter that you don’t belong, not when you’d be finding your own feet after this bullshit gets sorted out. Really, there wouldn’t even be a reason to see the four men, or the Las Vaqueros, again.

For some reason, your stomach feels uneasy with that thought process.

“We found out somethin’ much more important,” Ghost admits, and the mood immediately settles into something much more cold, much more serious. “Shepherd burned us.”

That name.

It’s like a shot to your system, an invasion of your very being.

Shepherd.

“...General Shepherd?” You mutter out, without a single thought behind the words, your mouth directly connected to your mind.

“Ye know ‘im?” Soap blurts out, brows furrowed and torso turning towards you, hand flexing around the rifle in his lap. Your mouth is dry, your palms are clammy, and your head is pounding.

“He trained me,” you manage, breath tightening and words shaky.

“He was my first Captain.”

taglist. @lilpothoscuttings @jng-yuan @iruzias @insatiablekittie @1wh4re1nova @kaoyamamegami @supernaturalstilinski @inthemiddle0feverywhere @msecho19 @nogood-boyo @alfa-jor @lalashhyl @letmeapologise @honeybeeznutz @1mawh0re

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rinrin-the-shark-teen · 2 years

Text

I need all of the adults to actually take action of Steve's living conditions from the moment they realize that he has the shittiest parents ever.

After the first round with the upside down Joyce cannot comprehend when Steve tells her not to call his home since there will be no one there. His mom will certainly not take care of him, she barely even calls for important dates. He is always alone, so he will just drive home with all his injuries and make do. Steve quickly understands why neither of the Byers ever goes against her will. She checks all his injuries and makes him a makeshift bedroom in their living room until he is better. She will not take no for an answer. Steve stays for almost a month there and practically has to get a doctor's note saying he is fine now before she lets him go.

Hopper sits him down eventually and makes him explain his living situation. Steve goes in as little details as possible about it, trying to brush it off but Jim is not happy and surely not believing it. He starts building a case at the station if Steve ever needs their help and you know, prepare in case they somehow get worse. Steve will have all the evidence needed to ruin them with proof of child neglect and other much much worse.

Claudia Henderson immediately starts asking for his help as home as an excuse to have him at their place and feed him. "Steve sweetie? Can you come over and help me get the door unstuck? Can you help with the faucet? Do you think we need to repaint?" And then Steve is at their place more and more and coming back home with too much homemade food. He eventually shared it with the Munsons as he cannot eat all of that by himself before it goes bad. She also insists on teaching him how to cook and they eventually fall into a routine.

Wayne Munson immediately brings him under his wing after being Eddie's personal nurse. He asks him to come over to watch games, he calls him son knowing perfectly well the impact it has on Steve if the tears in his eyes are anything to go by. He teaches him how to maintain his car that he loves so much so he doesnt get taken advantage of for being a Harrington. He gets him his own mug to add to the collection and drinks his coffee in silence pretty much every morning with Wayne while Eddie is still snoozing in his room.

Karen Wheeler starts making 3 sets of lunches. She sends him his lunch with Mike, which kills Mike's soul every day. "First Nancy, then my mom and now Eddie? What is it with you Steve?"

Steve by S4 has a whole routine for his week. - Sundays cooking with the Hendersons. They cook together and Steve and Claudia exchange new recipes and try new ones every week. - Mondays are spent at his own place and Hopper comes by after the end of his shift and they just watch TV and chat about their day with a beer in their hands. - Tuesdays is family dinner at the Byers. Steve always brings desert (that he learned from Claudia) even tho Joyce tells him that only his presence is needed. They usually catch up while doing the dishes. - Wednesdays he has a late shift at Family Video with Robin but he always takes time to chat with her parents before they get on their way. - Thursdays is DnD night, so he brings the little gremlins home. Not without a quick chat with their mothers tho. - Fridays and Saturdays are usually nights spent with Eddie, and by proxy with Wayne as well. They have dinner and if Wayne is still up for it they watch a movie. Most of the time he is asleep halfway, but they dont mind. Wayne brings a homey feeling to the place, his soft snores a background noise to their night.

So then the Harrington's come back after everything and they throw Steve out of the house for being a disappointment and achieving nothing in life. They will not just let him live rent free while he wastes away being nobody in this dead town. He is nothing but a shame to their name.

Imagine their absolute surprise when see 4 adults basically fighting in their frontyard over who will adopt Steve. Claudia is begging Steve to choose her and that way him and Dustin can finally be actual brothers. He would have his own room and they could decorate it together and they would always be just a few meters away. Then Joyce is saying that she basically adopted him since 83 and he IS family already. Putting on paper would just be the last step to it. Hopper is saying that he has been taking care of him since the first "disaster" unlike his own parents. He doesnt insist much since they all live together with Joyce now, so she can do the fighting for him.

And then Steve turns to Wayne, waiting for his arguments to be his official son now, but Wayne just casually shrugs and looks at the others. Steve lets go of a small "oh", his heart breaking a little even tho there are literal adults fighting for him right now, he foolishly expected the same from him. and when Wayne notices this, he is very quick to correct him. "Steve, don't get this wrong son. I am not fighting with them because it would be unfair. They are trying their best to make you one of them, but I have an advantage. You will be a Munson sooner or later, no matter who adopts you. My boy will make an honest man out of you, I raised him right after all" and he squeezes his shoulder. Steve just stares at him, face bright red while his eyes begin to water.

#steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #eddie munson #joyce byers #jim hooper #claudia henderson #wayne munson #this got horribly out of control #i had a whole fic planned as you can tell #maybe someday i will actually write it #the sinclairs are also involved in this in the end to get steve justice #should i write this? would anyone read it?

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mediumgayitalian · 4 months

Text

“Will. Hey.” He reaches out when the medic doesn’t react, forcibly stilling his hands. Even then, he can feel the minute twitches, the fighting he’s doing with himself to keep still. “It can wait until tomorrow.”

“They leave tomorrow,” Will stresses, finally pulling his hands free. “The Romans are early risers, Nico, you know better than anyone, I need this done before they —”

He cuts himself off, too invested in the sprawl of paperwork completely covering the nurse’s station. Under his eyes is almost completely bruised black, not unlike the war paint he wore so long ago, and there’s a grey dullness to him. If he stays in one place too long, he sways on his feet.

“I’m fine,” he says, suddenly, as if remembering Nico is there. He pauses briefly to shoot him a small, strained smile, then returns to his frantic sorting. A red thumbprint bleeds onto the corner of the page of one of the files. He doesn’t seem to notice.

Without straying too far, Nico gathers the supplies he needs. He pulls out a tray to grab some antiseptic, swipes a Pac-Man bandaid off a box on the counter. Arms laden with his spoils, he nudges the half-door open with his hip, setting the supplies down when he’s inside the round desk-station.

“Will,” he says quietly, wrapping his hand around his elbow. He jumps.

“I’m — fine.”

“You’re bleeding.”

He blinks, staring down at his hands; brows furrowing as he notices the several scattered paper cuts crossing almost every finger. Many of them are clotted, scabbed over; dried blood streaking between his freckles and swirling around stark white scars.

“Come here.”

Without protest, for once, he does. He sets down the pen clenched in his left thumb and turns to face Nico fully. In the minimal space between them, his hands shake.

“I didn’t notice,” he murmurs, flinching as Nico soaks a cotton pad and presses it to a cut on the inside of his thumb. Nico can’t quite read the expression on his face, although there’s a choked quality to his voice. “I need to — before they —”

“Not everything is your responsibility,” Nico interrupts. He meets Will’s gaze head on, his own gaze steady, heart breaking at the fragility in his ice blue eyes. “Not everything is your responsibility, Will,” he repeats, firmer this time.

Will’s face crumples. “I haven’t slept in five days.”

Nico closes his eyes. “Gods, Will.”

“I’m sorry.”

In moments like these, Nico hates working for his father.

He had left to relative chaos. Relative, meaning in comparison to what the rest of the eight billion people on the planet would consider calm, camp wasn’t it, but by demigod standards it wasn’t too bad. Several Romans, including Reyna and Hazel, were due to arrive the day after he was summoned by his father, which was a bummer, but he had assurance from both of them that they’d stay long enough to see him. And reassurance from his father that the errand wouldn’t be too perilous. And, lastly, a threat (warning out of love, he would say, but Nico knows a threat when he sees one) from Will to take it easy.

He got back to debris and blood and a flurry of stress — a weapons development disaster, he’d been quickly informed. No deaths, at least not yet, but several in critical condition that were quickly approaching it.

And Kayla and Austin, back at school, and Will in the infirmary by himself.

“Will,” he repeats for the third time, a little more urgently this time. He places a gently finger under his chin. “Look at me a second.”

He regrets asking, almost, when Will meets his eyes, although he immediately feels guilty for the thought. The son of Apollo is so rarely vulnerable, stubbornly intent on carrying the burdens he’s stuck with without half a hand of help. It wears on him, and the proof of the weariness hurts Nico somewhere, deep in his soul; he hates bearing witness to it.

Worse, though, is the knowledge that Will is struggling with it himself.

“Everybody critical has been stabilized,” he says firmly. When Will opens his mouth in protest, he adds, “I can feel it, Sunshine, do you trust me?”

“Yes,” he says, immediately. He snaps his jaw shut. “Yes.”

Nico’s own shoulders slump when Will exhales, long and exhausted. “Good. This —” he gestures to the paperwork — “this is secondary, Solace. I don’t care if they want to leave tomorrow. You need rest, and, hell, if they’re that pressed about it, I’ll make them do the fucking paperwork.”

“Please, don’t,” Will says, laughing feebly. He swiped quickly under his eyes, pulling away, and Nico lets him, if only because his small smile seems genuine, if not exhausted. “The idea of that actually makes me want to puke. I hate paperwork, but I hate anyone else doing it more.”

“Right, right.” Nico nudges his shoulder, something like teasing showing in his eyes. “Heaven forbid someone dot their i’s incorrectly.”

“Exactly.” Will looks so serious that Nico stills, trying to figure out just how anal, exactly, his friend is, before his face breaks out into a wide, genuine grin. Nico’s stomach flips. “I’m only teasing, Death Breath. I don’t actually care if people dot their i’s incorrectly. And I would appreciate the help.”

“I feel like it hurt you to say that,” Nico says, once he recovers from the staggering force of one million megawatts of smile power.

“It did.”

“Also, you implied that there genuinely is a wrong way to dot your i’s.”

“…Of course there is.” Will looks at him strangely. “Maybe I’m not the one who’s sleep deprived,” he muses, reminding Nico that oh yeah, dumbass, Will is actually genuinely sick with how little sleep he’s gotten, maybe fix that.

“Will you sleep, now?”

Will hesitates. “There was a girl with a — skull injury.”

Nico understands immediately. (He saw the mangled mess of Lee’s shroud.)

“Come sleep in my cabin,” he suggests, squeezing his wrist. “I’ll keep watch, and you’ll have some privacy.”

“Okay,” he says quietly. He allows himself to be tugged out of the infirmary, only looking back a couple times. “Thank you, Nico.”

“Anything for you,” Nico responds, just as quiet, and his heart races when Will beams.

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swirlymarimo · 4 months

Text

Zoro sits silently at the otherwise empty kitchen table, his head nestled against his palm as he watches their ships cook flit around, preparing breakfast for the crew. It's early. Too damn early if you ask him, the sun is barely just rising over the horizon. Its light is soft and golden, pouring in from the window on the adjacent wall.

He had been sitting alone in the crows nest, finishing up his nights watch when he had heard the familiar squeak of the galley door. After finishing the last of his push-ups he grabbed the towel from the bar on the wall and wiped the sweat from bis brow. "I should probably shower." He spoke into the deafening silence. Sanji would want nothing to do with him if he waltzed into the kitchen in his present state.

With the cook up and about, he decided it's fine to end his watch and move to the bathroom to freshen up. It won't take long, things would be okay with ten or so minutes of loose supervision.

Now here he sits, clean and refreshed watching the love of his life be the most obnoxious type of morning person there was. How someone can be this full of energy before the world was even awake will never makes sense to him. Right now he seems to be humming some old shanty while he tossses ingredients into a large mixing bowl.

He looks beautiful in the early morning light. The golden sunlight is casting a halo that makes him practically glow like treasure. Not to mention how cute and domestic he looks in his stupid pink apron.

"Need some help?"

He just can't shake the pull of soul wanting to be closer to the man at the counter. He was breathtaking. Zoro wants to burn this image into his mind.

Without even turning to spare him a glance, Sanji answers, "No, I'm alright. I don't have much to do."

"You were just saying yesterday I need to help out around the ship more." Zoro knows the comment was merely an excuse to bicker at the time when it was said, but now perhaps it can be his excuse to be closer. He really means to say "I just want to be domestic with you." But he's certain the cook can read between the lines and understand that he just wants to do something simple in each others company.

Sanji humors him this time, turning and placing one hand on his hip. "Do you even know how to do anything in a kitchen?" He asks.

In all honesty, no, he does not. So he makes his best offer, "I can do the dishes you're making. Dry them and put them away too. Or I can help you cut stuff. Kind of my thing isn't it?"

Zoro tried to joke, but Sanji doesn't find it comedic at all.

"Please its not the same kind of cutting at all. Cutting things in the kitchen is far different in technique than weilding a katana." Sanji now turns back to his station and adds the batter he's made to the waiting skillet on the stove. It sizzles for a moment as it hits the hot surface.

"I can't become the greatest swordsman if I can't even master a kitchen knife. Show me. Then I can help." Zoro mentally pats himself on the back for his clever in.

His smirk falls when Sanji laughs loudly. "Are you serious? You'll take my instruction on something?"

Zoro has to brush off the small amount of annoyance he feels at being teased. Remembering his ultimate goal is to participate in some form of bonding activity he keeps at it.

"Yeah. I master a new blade. You get breakfast done a little quicker. It's a win-win."

Sanji turns again to face his lover who seems very intent on helping today. "Is this really because I said you aren't very helpful around the ship? Because I wasn't being that serious, you do plenty." He feels a little bit of guilt creep into his chest.

"No. It's not that." Zoro gives Sanji a soft look, one he reserves only for the blonde. "Look pretty cook I just want to spend some time with you before everyone gets up. That's all." Zoro confesses.

Sanji gives Zoro a look of his own. Soft eyes and a small, genuine smile.

"Okay lover boy, first things first, go wash your hands. You're not touching anything until I know you're not contaminated."

Zoro smirks in victory, a smart remark already on the back of his tongue

"Yes chef."

And Sanji rolls his eyes so hard they may just roll right out of his head, but even so, a light laugh rings into the quiet galley.

#zosan #zoro x sanji #zoro and sanji #my post #established zosan #zoro wants to help #sanjis love language is quality time #zoros love language is acts of service #mini fic #ficlet #zosan ficlet

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amywritesthings · 7 months

Text

mistletoe (on the clock.) / nanami x you

pairing: nanami kento x f!reader word count: 1.7k summary: It's your annual holiday party at the office. You and your coworker Nanami Kento end up in a precarious yuletide predicament. tags: mistletoe, holiday office party, explicit language, sexual tension, hair pulling, kissing, make corporate speak horny in this house

part of the twelve days of amymas 2023 !!!

Office holiday parties shouldn’t be mandatory.

Eight, sometimes bordering up to twelve, hours under fluorescent lights was more than enough anguish — add four extra mandatory 'fun' hours and you see why half of your colleagues spend their nights bar hopping to cope.

However, if these annual holiday parties weren't mandatory, most of your colleagues would never bother showing up in the first place.

You sure as hell wouldn’t.

(And you're pretty sure the tall blonde you spy from across the room wouldn’t, either.)

It’s only your first year with the company, but it’s already one year too many.

You'd taken a few gap years between college to figure your shit out, travel a little, but you still ended up in the grand corporate scheme.

The nine-to-five lifestyle is nothing less than soul sucking. Commuting back and forth is such a pain.

By the time you make it back to your tiny one-bedroom flat, the night is too cold to enjoy anything beyond your warm bed.

But... there are perks to the job, sometimes.

Free lunches are great.

Business connections don't hurt.

Not to mention you've grown fond of one person who makes your commute a little tolerable:

Tall. Blonde. High cheekbones. Voice as smooth as honey.

Nanami Kento.

Stoic on the outside yet considerably kind on the inside, Nanami has equal parts ruined and consumed your days.

The sheer sight of him in his tailored suits without a strand of hair out of place can make you weak in the knees, so you make it a point to always talk to him sitting down.

And he seems to like you, for what it’s worth.

Nanami always makes sure to bring you tea and water in the morning to stay hydrated.

He stops by your cubicle to tell you there's free catering in the break room if you missed the memo.

No matter how late you end up staying, he always makes it a point to never let you walk to the train station alone.

It’s sweet.

It’s more than what anyone else has ever done for you in your life, so naturally?

You're into him.

Bad.

Of course, that means you’re too chicken to invite him over for dinner.

God knows you can’t cook a decent course to save your life, but you’d order in — it’s only one string away from officially asking him on a date, masked as a favor repaid.

('Tis the damn season; it may be your time to take a little leap of faith if he's going to be standing there all alone for this insufferable party.)

Emboldened by the spiked eggnog in your system, you decide to jump:

You make a beeline through the crowds of laughing colleagues, all varying stages of intoxicated, straight to him.

In truth, you're eager to blend as a wallflower beside him.

Nanami almost instantly catches you in the crowd, but he makes no motion to meet you in the middle.

He moves a pace to the right, silently offering you the corner to hide in.

You have to be brave.

You have to make the first real move.

(Attractiveness aside, it's just Kento. He must be at the end of his social battery, too.)

“Hey,” you greet.

“Hello,” he replies, smooth as butter.

“Having the time of your life over here?” you joke, pressing your back into the wall.

He hums in a noncommittal fashion. “At the very least, this party is much more tame than the one they threw last year.”

“Is it?”

Kento nods. “Someone overserved. Shirts flew. Marriages shattered.” His strong brow furrows. “Though I wanted to ask, even though I've been here longer: has Mr. Hiro always been a happy drunk? I recall differently.”

“No, that’s a fairly new development. His wife finally finalized the divorce last week,” you gossip under your breath. “I had to field the call myself.”

“Oh?” Nanami asks, turning a sharp chin your way. “Ugly?”

“Very.”

“To call and finalize over the phone at the office is—”

“Ballsy.”

A sly smile tugs at the corner of his lip. “I was going to say a choice, but sure.”

Nanami clinks his ceramic ‘work hard, play harder ’ slogan mug to yours — a past gag gift from that Gojo Satoru friend of his, you’re sure — and pushes his body from the wall.

“Do you need a refill?”

You nod, holding up your empty eggnog mug.

"Thanks."

"How spiked do you want it?"

"Blackout levels," you joke. It earns you an even larger smile, albeit shortly lived.

He plucks the handle from you easily enough, but you notice how his eyes flutter above your heads and… stay there.

Weird.

Unable to help yourself, you lift your chin to see the captivating problem for yourself:

Hovering over the two of you this entire time has been a pesky little bundle of leaves, tied together with a tiny red bow.

Shit.

Mistletoe.

(Were these things even allowed in the office? Surely hanging one constituted breaking at least four different Human Resources violations in one swift sweep.)

You open your mouth to make a joke, but—

“Has that been there?” Nanami asks, and you can feel your face grow hot.

“I— Maybe?” You clear your throat. “Did you stand under it on purpose?”

(Way to go, moron.)

Nanami considers, then shakes his head.

“I had no intention of kissing anyone in our office, I assure you,” he replies, and you feel yourself deflate a little. “Though I guess this is an opportune moment.”

Oh?

You pretend to look unbothered, arms crossed over your chest.

It takes you biting your tongue to avoid asking outright.

“What do you mean, opportune?” you ask instead.

Blink and you’ll miss it: Nanami smiles, albeit barely, before turning his chin back to the mistletoe in question.

“I would prefer taking a woman out to dinner before kissing her, but I suppose if you were interested, then we could be a little unconventional. It’s likely the swift kick in my ass I needed.”

Your brows slide to your hairline as you regard him in equal parts confusion and hope.

“Wait, you…”

Words.

You have to remember how to speak.

The whole point of this job was to be suave, but you’re failing miserably at it at the moment.

“You were interested in going to dinner with…”

“You?” Nanami finishes, and he angles his larger frame towards you. “Was it never obvious?”

Obvious?

Now you really felt like a fish out of water.

Nothing about Nanami Kento was obvious.

You could barely get a read on him, even if he did all of those really nice things for you—

Oh.

The realization hits you like a subway train, leaving you breathless.

The blonde stares down at you, patiently waiting for an answer.

You blurt. "Do you still want dinner after?"

"I don't think many places are open at this hour, but if you're not hungover tomorrow, I could call."

"I'm not picky," you reply. "I love takeout."

"We're not getting takeout on our first outing," Nanami snorts.

"Like I said, very-much not picky."

A moment passes.

You both stare at one another, waiting for the right timing to...

Well, do anything.

He wants to take you out to dinner.

Nanami fucking Kento wants to take you out—

And kiss you.

Actually, that part is more important right now.

"So the... unconventional part."

"The mistletoe," he adds.

"Right. Is that still on the table?"

"Do you want it to be on the table?"

"Is that a serious question?" you counter, before leaning in a little closer. "Okay, but what if someone sees?"

Nanami shrugs a shoulder, resting his bare forearm against the wall you lean against. His button-down shirt is rolled up to the elbow, making your mouth water.

His body shields you from the rest of the people in the office.

One quick peck and none of the drunks on this floor would be any wiser.

“Are you that concerned?” he asks.

When his featherlight touch raises your chin to meet his gaze, he makes your decision right there and then.

You’ve wanted Nanami for so damn long.

Now the opportunity is presented to you like a holiday gift, and you’re not one to be ungrateful.

“Not anymore,” you admit, wrapping your fingers around his speckled yellow and black tie.

Like two magnets, you pull him in by the tie and he drags you in by the chin, connecting your lips in a searing kiss.

Nanami is warm, stronger than you anticipated. You melt against his lips as they gingerly move against yours.

You want him to push you against this wall.

You want to what he'd do if you dropped to your knees the way you’ve imagined doing every single time he’s sitting at his desk with those goddamn dress slacks bunched against his thighs.

You want so much in so little time that you bite his lower lip, causing the blonde to groan with need.

He slides his fingers along your jawline, snaking up past your ear and into your hair.

His fingers curl around the strands, tugging playfully.

Then, abruptly, he pulls away.

No.

Too soon.

You could topple over with how quickly you chase him, but he stops you with his index finger pressed to your lips.

“Nanami!”

A voice calls him, slurred and hiccupped, from the other side of the room.

You freeze, unable to do anything but stare into his brown eyes.

“Get your ass over here!”

“Group photo,” Nanami reluctantly murmurs to you, and your shoulders sag. “Before everyone starts digging out the hard liquor.”

Still, he leans back in to drop a gentle peck to the tip of your nose.

When he pulls away, he drops the arm against the wall to hold his palm out to you — an invitation.

“Let’s circle back after.”

He doesn’t need to tell you twice.

You take his hand and never look back.

#nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fic #jjk x you #nanami kento fanfic #nanami kento fluff #jjk fanfiction #nanami kento fanfiction #amywritesthings #twelve days of amymas #fic: mistletoe on the clock

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rookthorne · 1 year

Text

Like a moth to a flame, you were drawn to them and their irresistible charm – their job, as firemen, was to put out fires and infernos, but you could only hope they'd let the fire they started in the depth of your soul, consume you whole.

⠈⠂⠄⠄ 𝑪𝑶𝑳𝑳𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 𝑷𝑨𝑰𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 ༄ Fireman!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader x Fireman!Steve Rogers

⠈⠂⠄⠄ 𝑪𝑶𝑳𝑳𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 𝑲𝑬𝒀 ༄ 𝐏 + 𝐅 + 𝐒

⠈⠂⠄⠄ 𝑪𝑶𝑳𝑳𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 𝑭𝑰𝑪 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻 ༄ 10

⠈⠂⠄⠄ 𝑪𝑶𝑳𝑳𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻 ༄ 19,470

⠈⠂⠄⠄ 𝑪𝑶𝑳𝑳𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑬 ༄ This is all thanks to the huge reception these menaces received, and for @sgt-seabass ❤

⠈⠂⠄⠄ 𝑪𝑶𝑳𝑳𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 𝑷𝑳𝑨𝒀𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 ༄ 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄

⠈⠂⠄⠄ 𝑨𝑹𝑪𝑯𝑰𝑽𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑶𝑾𝑵 ༄ 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄

𝐁𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── 𝐊𝐄𝐘 ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

— 𝐀 = angst — 𝐖 = whump — 𝐈 = sick fic — 𝐃 = dark — 𝐃² = dead dove — 𝐏 = poly — 𝐊 = kid fic — 𝐅 = fluff — 𝐒 = smut

These are in timeline order - this is subject to change as I add entries.

༄ 𝐏𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐦 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐏 + 𝐅

It was an old wives tale that you put no stock in: that a way to a man’s heart was through his stomach – though this time, it worked, and it worked better than you could have ever imagined.

༄ 𝐖𝐞'𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐧’, 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧’ ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐏 + 𝐅 + 𝐒

It was only meant to be a visit – to get to know them better, learn of their dynamic and learn just how you would fit in. They, however, had other ideas.

༄ 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐮 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐩 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐏 + 𝐅

You were quite proud of the joke you had come up with, and you could only hope that they would appreciate just as much as you.

Spoiler alert: they did.

༄ 𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐏 + 𝐅 + 𝐒

The heat and tension was undeniable, and you felt it the moment you got the simple text from them. What awaited you, however, was something much more than a simple night of games.

༄ 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐏 + 𝐅 + 𝐒

The urge, while powerful and all-consuming most of the time, never burned this hot. It was always temperable, until it wasn’t – and there was one way to make it better, it was just a good thing that a certain someone was just as much of a trouble maker as you were.

༄ 𝐅𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐏 + 𝐅

There was an unconventional way that both Steve and Bucky passed the time, and you were about to find out just how mischievous the pair could be.

༄ 𝐅𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐅𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐏 + 𝐅

It was always a rocky road, establishing new traditions within a family. Naturally, the two men wouldn’t make it that hard, but they wouldn’t make it so easy, either – it did not mean that it would be any less fun, or any less messy, that was for sure.

༄ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐚 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐏 + 𝐅

A day at the station reveals more truth than you could have ever imagined — not in the presence of your boys and little ones, or how they were so gentle with the young ones in their joy for festivities.

༄ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞, 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐏 + 𝐅

You knew with absolute certainty that you meant a lot to both Bucky and Steve — to them as themselves, and to their marriage, but you did not truly understand the depth of their devotion to you, not until a frosty, chilled morning where they revealed just how much they truly adored you.

༄ 𝐀 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭'𝐬 𝐄𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐏 + 𝐅

You should have known that things were never going to go to plan within that household — no matter how badly you wanted to start your day by treating your boys, they had other ideas, and accomplices.

༄

༄ 𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞

༄ 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞

༄ 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ By @sgt-seabass

༄ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐏 + 𝐅 + 𝐒

Some birthday smut.

#bucky barnes x female reader #steve rogers x female reader #bucky barnes x female reader x steve rogers #bucky barnes x f!reader #steve rogers x f!reader #bucky barnes x f!reader x steve rogers #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #bucky barnes x steve rogers #stucky x reader #stucky fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #BD #rookthorne's works

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anim-ttrpgs · 1 month

Note

"All our projects" so there's other ANIM projects in production? anything you're able to talk about?

Yes, we plan to have a long-running career in the TTRPG space, and have several backburnered!

I’m just gonna rapid-fire these off the top of my head. We don’t know exactly which one of these is coming after Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is fully released, because it is actually our patreon subscribers that vote on that.

Mastadon(title pending)

Yes, this is intentionally misspelled though we might change that in the future in case it hinders search results and stuff. This is a world where dark fantasy and 90s retro-futurism collide, literally. Think of knights with machine guns, space marines with enchanted swords, high-calibre rounds leaving dents in mythril breastplates, and men-at-arms on cybernetic horses. In the distant future of 2016, a scientific experiment on a lunar research station opened a portal to another world. At the same time, in a dimension of sorcery and feudalism, a council of wizards opened a portal to another world, and explorers from each land found themselves in the same mysterious place.

Cultures and technologies have clashed and mixed in these mysterious lands since. The PCs are mercenaries, taking odd, usually violent, jobs to get by.

Gameplay-wise it’s largely a combat-focused dungeon crawler emulating retro-FPS combat in TTRPG form, with an emphasis on making every type of gun feel totally unique by tying them to entirely different dice mechanics, which in turn makes warriors using these guns strategize entirely differently.

Bone Grinder

Bone Grinder is a “dumber” game, but still with an emphasis on combat. It has a notably more punk and metal aesthetic. Imagine a rocker with a mohawk and leather jacket killing a demon with an axe guitar that is also actually an axe. One of the core mechanics is that players will “bone” the game master by “throwing the bones” at them, which means literally trying to hit them with dice. A successful hit will add a bonus to whatever dice roll comes up when the thrown die lands. When it is the monsters’ turns, the game master will throw that same die right back at them. So if you throw a D6, that’s a D6 attack coming back at your PC next turn. If you throw a D20, that’s a D20 attack coming back at your character next right, so you better make it count, better kill ‘em in one shot!

(We recommend using plastic dice for this one, no metal dice!)

Death Bed

This is another working title, and it is a very serious attempt to emulate Dark Souls and Dark Souls style combat in a turn-based TTRPG in response to the abysmal Dark Souls: The Role-Playing Game that was just a lazy D&D5e book.

This game will be a bit more OSR-y, with D20 roll-under mechanics like old-school D&D for skill checks, and very simple attack determinants. It will have an emphasis on predicting enemy movement, stamina management, and choice between blocking or dodging attacks. It will also feature a system whereby the PCs are not permanently dead after being killed, but do “hollow” after each death. There are several stages of hollowing, each with downsides and upsides. Fully alive PCs will be more nimble, alert, and powerful, but stand out more to mindless hollow enemies, drawing more aggro. More hollowed PCs will have stat debuffs, but hollows are less likely to attack other hollows, giving them less aggro priority. Of course, if a PC dies too many times without restoring their life force, they will become a mindless hollow themselves, becoming an enemy that the party must slay if they want to recover that PC’s equipment.

Untitled Mushroom Game

A working title of course. This game takes a lot of inspiration from the earlier Paper Mario games, and like Bone Grinder, it will have actual physical things you can do with the dice to gain bonuses to your characters’ attacks, which is meant to emulate the “action commands” from Paper Mario in TTRPG format. One example would be building a larger dice pool for an attack based on how many D6s you can stack into a tower before they fall down, with the tower falling down constituting the rolling of the dice.

Eureka Adventure Modules Vol. 2

(Vol. 1 is the set of adventure modules that are coming with the Kickstarter.) Eureka fully releasing won’t mean we’re done with it. We plan to support all of our games for as long a time as possible with new adventure modules and other supplements. (But expect the other supplements to be very cheap if not outright free. We don’t want to make Eureka a game where you have to buy 15 $50 books just to have the full experience.) This will be a set of 5, 10, maybe more pre-written adventure modules for use with Eureka. For a few teasers, one of our ideas features the PCs getting stranded in the Mojave desert, one of them features the PCs getting trapped in underground drainage tunnels with a mysterious creature stalking them, and more horrifying mysteries.

The Eureka Mobster Manual

Another working title, but it’s pretty catchy. This will act as a “monster manual” for Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy, featuring prémisse stats and GMing advice mundane NPCs like cops, mafia enforcers, hapless bystanders, etc. and also actual monsters, both human and inhuman. One of the monsters I am most excited about introducing is actual demons. Not just some red guy with horns, in fact they’re likely to be completely invisible. I know this term gets thrown around a lot by people who don’t know what it means, but in Eureka demons will be more “biblically accurate.” Think more The Exorcist and less DOOM. A demon doesn’t want to go “blahrarawa!” and kill you, a demon wants to gradually talk you into killing yourself. This also may feature additional playable monsters, such as the gorgon and dullahan(Kickstarter stretch goals for the main rulebook that I don’t think we’re going to meet unfortunately), plus others if we can come up with more.

Overdose

A working title again. This will be a large collection of “drag-and-drop” tactical combat encounters for Eureka, for when a GM needs a fleshed out and challenging final showdown between the PCs and the bad guy goons. These will feature plenty of cover, alternate routes, and “woo roll elements”(stuff that can get knocked over, exploded, destroyed, etc. by stray bullets, thereby changing the environment in exciting and unexpected ways.). All of this is so that the GM doesn’t have to come up with all the complexities of a good Eureka combat encounter on the fly.

That’s about all I can think of right now. After Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is fully released and the dust is settled, we will hold a vote with out patreon subscribers to find out what the fans most want us to work on next.

However, all of these things that I have mentioned are in a very raw state of completion, or even just in the idea stage. If you want to see all these projects, and more, release in the coming years, then RPG-making needs to be a long-term viable career for us. I, personally, am disabled and have a very hard time finding regular, sustainable work at “real jobs,” so this is especially important for my financial future. It’s about the only (marketable) skill I’m good at, and it’s something I enjoy doing, so I’m making this push now for my future.

The best way you can make this a viable long-term career for us is to support the Eureka Kickstarter (only 24-hours left at the time of posting this), buy our games, and subscribe to our Patreon.

The more successful the Kickstarter is, not only does more art and stuff get added to the Eureka rulebook and adventure modules, but the more buzz it generates, and the more buzz it generates the more journalistic support and more financial support we get. Even if it’s just for charity purposes to help me pay future bills when I can’t hold a normal job, pledging $10 is enough to get your name in the Eureka rulebook, and if you can’t give anything, we totally understand—we’d rather you put food on your table than go broke supporting our dreams. If you can share the Kickstarter to discord servers and the like in the last 24 hours of its crowdfunding window, or just share news of the game with people after the Kickstarter closes, that is a huge huge help on its own.

We, and especially I, am thankful beyond my ability to express in words for how much support the Kickstarter has already gotten, and the patreon subscribers whose support paid for all of our advertising budget to get Eureka as well-known as it is. This is a project of extremely professional scope and calibre, and I’m proud to say that we probably shouldn’t have been able to pull it off with as small a team as we are, we’re just that talented and persistent, but no matter how talented or persistent we are, it is the fans and supporters that make it possible for us to pursue a creative career. Thank you all.

24 hours left on the Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy Kickstarter, crowdfunding closes at 2:00 PM CST on Friday, May 10th! That’s mid-day tomorrow! Please support it while you still can! If you’re reading this after the Kickstarter has closed, you can support us through ko-fi or patreon, and if you’re a $5 subscriber or more to our patreon, you will get regular PDFs of increasingly finished beta versions of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy and its adventure modules as we continue to work on finishing it using the Kickstarter money.

You can also help us by checking out our merchandise!

If you just want to play, you don’t have to pay. You can get a beta PDF of the Eureka rulebook plus character sheets and adventure modules FOR FREE from our website or itch.io page.

Join our TTRPG Book Club We nominate, vote on, and split into groups (based on schedule compatibility) differnt indie games, then discuss, just like a book club! Plus it’s just a great place to discuss and play new TTRPGs you might not be able to otherwise!

We hope to see you there, and that you will help our dreams come true and launch our careers as indie TTRPG developers with a bang by getting us to our base goal and blowing those stretch goals out of the water, and fight back against WotC's monopoly on the entire hobby. Wish us luck.

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rinbowaman · 2 months

Note

heelel trying to rizz his wife would be cute

*ahem*

Warnings: some spoilers if you haven’t read the Se7en series. Finger play, nipple play, loads of fluff, some factual and fictional retelling of Biblical events…try not to fall in love with the Devil.

“What are you doing, darling?”

He creeps up from behind, admiring the curves of your body seated gracefully, dressed in a sheer beige dress. The fabric was entirely see-through, allowing him to observe every detail of your form. Before you is a propped portrait of an old painting displaying Eve and the deceptive snake, the Devil. Your husband.

“I found this old painting, it was slightly damaged and faded so I wanted to fix it.”

He leaned and bends down to rest his chin on your smooth shoulder. Observing the painting in question, he chuckles against your skin upon seeing it. “Huh. The old forbidden fruit story.”

He leaves his wording short as he places a kiss on your collar bone, and scoots the fine delicate strap of your dress aside with his tongue. With your shoulder completely bare, he coats it with his saliva. Running his tongue along the outline, he traces the tip all the way up, just below the lobe of your ear. “Are you always going to taste this good?” He jests as he snickers a grin into the nook of your neck. It too, made you chuckle subtly. He had his moments.

It has been over a year since you’ve been held captive, with the acceptance of belonging to the devil. you’ve remained in your station as his queen and bride, although it wasn’t that hard to stay committed, after all, he took very good care of you…such great care. You literally were treated like a Goddess.

True, initially his manner of making love was, and continues to be some times, brutal and demonically aggressive. But the one thing that remained forever intact behind the ugliness of his acts was the love and loyalty he had for only you…that is why you were here in the first place.

“Is it true?” You hinted a nod toward the painting of Eve and the Snake. He stands straight and walks over to his throne, casually seating himself in his usual manner. It starts with a wide manspreading of his legs, loosely crossing one over the other while a wide gap still remains between his thighs, exposing the outlining bulge of his crotch beneath his black trousers. His white collard shirt is lined in the edges with lace while the black suit coat seals in the Victorian fashion, showing off a gentleman’s appearance.

He often switches between silver and black locks, yet always opting to flare the latter while in the comfort of his own home, Hell.

“It depends what the Bible states, although—“ he sighs out a breath as he raises his brows and continues to speak softly to enlighten you. His tone always softened with you…only you.

“A lot of the scriptures were made up by man, I doubt a lot of the events told are in full truth…some not even true at all.” He playfully taps his fingers on the arm of his throne as he smirks, intrigued by the deception of mortals over the years.

“Why would they lie and make up stories?” You inquire as you look him in the eye.

He chuckles once more as he returns the stare. “To feel like they have a sense of control over ungodly creatures—such as myself, my brothers, and…you.”

“Im not ungodly.” You insist faintly, nearly whispering it only for him to gently cut in. “Oh but you are. You definitely are. The moment I kissed you back to life, and brought you here, you’ve become no different from us.” A sly smile births from his lips as he adds on to his statement. “It was meant to be.”

You knew he was right, but tried to remain in denial to salvage whatever was left of your humanity, if it was even there to begin with. Going back to the topic, you inquired more about the story of Eve. “So is this one true?”

His eyes shift over to the painting as he halts his finger tapping. They move back over to you, piercing into your soul with their black coloration, yet never losing that adoration he had for you. He merely nods in response.

“Why did you do it?” You ask gently, not wanting to provoke or trigger his anger, seeing as the past was a sensitive topic, according to his brothers. Yet, he always insisted that you would have nothing to be afraid of. He always spoke how you had the luxury that most don’t, not even his own brothers, and that he would always be open and transparent with you. That was one of the foundations that proved his love for you, just one of them. So you took advantage in certain moments such as this, relying on his word that he would always be in control of his emotions, and instead, feed you the knowledge and facts through his tongue.

“In my lifetime, some of the things I’ve done have become used by mortal men to exemplify unlawful actions—all of which will forever be associated by my name. What people do not realize is that all of Gods creations, those created in Heaven, Earth, and Hell, are no strangers to the harshness of betrayal, desertion, sorrow, regret, and illumination—not even the Devil. I may be the King of Hell—Lucifer, Helel, or whatever disdained name they assigned me…but like them, I was created by the same father. Therefore I am flawed and imperfect.”

His eyes remained steady with yours, lazily gleaming under heavy hooded lids, almost appearing as if he was sleepy, though you knew that wasn’t the case. He was relaxed, peaceful, and in a state of tranquility, all because of your presence. He could always count on you to make him feel light as air, even though you could never know it, because he felt that there was not enough he could ever do for you, to show just how meaningful you are to him.

“So, you regret it?”

He tilts his head just a smudge as he gives a delicate smile your way. He responds to you in jest. “Are we in the mood for a history lesson?”

You both chuckle. He raises a hand and strokes his chin in suave fashion and props his face against it, leaning over to the arm of the chair. “Encouraging a woman to eat a simple fruit is one thing, but to do it in the manner of lying, trickery, and deceiving her is another. Either way, the result is the same, and I do not renounce it, nor do i ever find myself regretting it.”

You furrow your brows in confusion. “But you just said it was a mistake made out of the harshness of emotions.”

He slightly nodded in agreement. “Yeah…but had I done anything differently…had I not hated and plotted for their demise—had I not made the move and convinced that naive woman to take a step that resulted in her banishment from that garden…I would not have had the chance to experience the joy in discovering you…in keeping you…and to love you.”

Your breath hitches as he gently spoke out heartfelt words. Dear God…you can’t believe yourself for admitting it but you have come to fall deeply in love with the Devil.

“I see.” You gulp down a nervous swallow as your cheeks flush, the blood coursing through your veins heats your body, all because you were touched by the sweetness of his nature.

“There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, y/n. If I had to do it all over again—if I have to kill or die for you, I would. I will give up the last drop of my tainted blood just in your name…taking advantage of a fresh young mind into disobeying God…that’s just a small fraction of what I would do all over again, if it means it will lead him to create you…all to tame me.”

“Are you trying to seduce me with your touching words?” You smile and bite down your lip, feeling immensely overwhelmed by his confession of the unyielding love he has for you. His eyes widen in amusement as his smirk grows wider. “Is it working?” He jokes back as you both chuckle in unison.

He pats his lap, signaling for you to come to him, and you do. You perch yourself on his thighs and lean back against his broad chest, letting him reach around and grab onto the center of your waistline. He kisses your ear and cheek nonstop, sniffing in your scent simultaneously.

“I have my own way of showing it—some times it is in the manner that is most unorthodox…it frightens you and makes your body bleed. But you should know that it is all because of the effect you have on me. You bring forth the light of Heaven within me, ground me to the earth and experience humanity, and trick-start the fires of Hell. You are responsible for both, the ugliness and beauty of my nature. I’ll never be able to control myself when I’m with you. You are the impulsive breath in my chest that unhinges me. I want to do everything to you, and make you feel it.”

He kisses your shoulders once more, before pulling the remaining strap down and exposing your breasts in full bareness. His hands are cold, as always. He reaches up and cups both your mounds delicately as he tastefully pinches the nipples, occasionally tapping the jeweled ringlets decorating them. You lean your head back over his shoulder upon feeling the gentleness of his sexual passion. Inch by inch, you yearn for more, regardless that his gentler side will rage havoc and become demeaning, brutal, and viscous…but it always felt so good. Painful…but good.

He works his tongue on your neck and breathes in, the faint sensation of his nostrils flaring against your skin was delightfully sinful as he begins to move his hips underneath you, forcing you to wave yours in sync. “Oh Heeseung.” You moan out in a chiming tone. Delighting in the sound of your angelic voice, he keeps it going and feels the same knot forming in his gut as he scoops his hands underneath your thighs and slightly lifts them, spreading them apart.

Open to kiss the air, he smooths his palm over your moist cavity and gently slaps it, flicking his finger against your clit. All the while he kept whispering those sweet, flattering words into your ear, against your hair, and onto your cheek. “How does it feel, baby? To be the tamer of the Devil…to have him under your spell and belonging to him…forever.”

Your throat and lips tremble as he kept going. “How does it feel to be his favorite? To be forever cherished by the dark king and become his one and only bride? How does it feel to be called Lilith? To be mistaken as Eve—to be the soulmate of the Red Dragon. Tell me baby…how does it all feel?”

“Mm! G-good…so good—Heeseung!”

“Tell me you love me back, y/n. Tell me you love me just the same…tell me you worship me just as I do you…that you swear by my name as I swear by yours.”

“I-I do!” You stutter your words. It was becoming hard to speak, to breathe, and to move. Your body goes limp but it did not matter, his telekinetic abilities keeps you propped even when you didn’t have the strength to steady yourself. There was also of course, him. He was invincibly strong and sensually masculine, could anyone blame you for faltering and admitting your loyalty to him?

Spreading your vaginal lips, he fingers and plays with you. Moving his fingers in the same manner as a pianist, his movements are smooth, pleasant, and applied pressure in all the right spots. His flattering words continue, while his fingers, tongue, and the pitch of his voice all take a dark turn. All of which you were expecting, mentally noting that he was on the verge of fucking the screams out of your chest, and you couldn’t hide it…you couldn’t wait for him to do it over and over again. Who knew sinful pleasure better than the Devil himself? The type that makes you bite down your lip and curl your toes in. The type of love that made you hiccup your breaths while gasping for air, screaming his name repeatedly while he whispers yours.

Who else…would tell you from the depths of his own soul, the words of affirmation that brought you to your knees…

“Absolutely NOTHING I wouldn’t do for you…my darling girl.”

#heeseung x reader #heeseung scenarios #heeseung smut #enha x reader #heeseung hard hours #heeseung hard thoughts #heeseung fanfic #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enha heeseung #yandere imagines #yandere heeseung imagines #heeseung yandere #yandere enha #yandere enhypen

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imagines--galore · 3 months

Text

||I Will Always Choose You||

Summary: As a soldier you had expected to find yourself in dangerous situations. But trapped in the claws of a Homunculous who went by Lust and watching the man you love try to save you was on a whole other level.

Pairing: Roy Mustang x Reader

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. Action. Angst. A bit of mention of injury so be prepared!

A/N: Sorry its late but I hope you like this! @smallartist08

Roy Mustang was not in love.

He had never been in love, and there was no possibility of him falling in love in the future.

Not when he had an entire country to think of. Not when he had to help make Amestris a country he would be proud to call home. Not when he had so many people to look after. His entire team. His best friend’s wife and daughter. The Elric brothers. Madam Christmas and the girls.

Most all of them were in constant danger, one way or the other. There was no time for him to be in love when he had to make sure he knew of their every step. Make sure they stayed safe.

Or as safe as the Elric brothers could be.

Those two boys got in so much trouble sometimes, he was sure they had targets painted on their backs.

But most of all?

Roy Mustang did not deserve love. Not after the bloodshed he had carried out as the Flame Alchemist. Not after all the innocent Ishvalans he had killed when he had been ordered to.

He was ashamed of his actions, and deeply regretful that he had not stood up to those in authority back then. He may spend his whole life trying to atone for all his sins. Which is why something as pure as love could never be in his life.

Not with how tainted his soul was.

How broken.

But............the only problem about not falling in love?

Was that he was already in love.

With you.

Just like Riza and Maes, you had been beside Roy every step of the way.

You had been with him when he was stationed to the front lines. As a weapon’s specialist, and a liaison between the superiors and the alchemists, you had been in-charge of all the weapons that came your way.

Mechanical and human.

And all the State Alchemists were seen as nothing more then weapons at that time.

You were to make sure that each piece of weapon stayed in shape, and you were aware of every alchemist and where they were stationed, what they were capable of, and how far they could go with the abilities.

As one of the best sharpshooters, Riza would often be found in your company. Not only because you were the only one she trusted with making sure her weapon was in working order, but also because there were so few women on the front lines.

It was nice having another woman around, someone the both of you could trust to watch each other’s back.

You had been walking around when you had first heard Roy. He was speaking to Maes, telling him of the guilt he felt for using his abilities to kill so many. All of this was spoken in confidant, and you were not meant to have heard it.

But you did.

And your heart went out to the poor man.

You had seen so many soldiers die. So many lives wasted.

And for what?

For a war that had started because the Ishavalan’s had revolted against the people who ruled them. Later you would come to know the true reason for the war, but even then, it didn’t sit right with you.

Riza had been with you, and when Roy and Maes had seen you standing there, she had reassured them, saying you would not breath a single word of it to anyone.

Although the next time Roy was given an assignment, it had no killing involved and only a few patrols. He had been confused at first, and after a little detective work on Maes’s part, he was told that you were responsible for it. While writing your weekly reports you had managed to surreptitiously add a few points that would make it seem that the areas Roy would be stationed at were in dire need of a cleansing.

Of course, that was a lie.

Leaving Roy rather impressed with your clever wording, and quick thinking. He voiced it to you out loud, but what he didn’t say, at least not in so many words, was that he was sure that you had done so out of the kindness of your heart.

He had known of you long before you knew him. At least you were are of his existence, and that he was the Flame Alchemist. That was as far as your knowledge of him went until that fateful and unintentional run-in while he had been speaking to Maes. Roy Mustang knew exactly who you were and what you were there to do.

He had seen you, a few days after your arrival. You were crouching down next to a dying Ishvalan, offering him some water. And you had stayed there, held his hand and spoke to him.

Most soldiers would’ve simply walked by the dying man. But not you. No, you stayed with him until he died. And when he did, you cried.

You sat there crying in the shadows for a good long while, until your tears had dried and you had composed yourself enough to walk back to your post. And Roy had watched you, a piece of his broken heart mending at the reassurance of your simple act of staying with a dying man.

That there was still kindness in this cruel world.

————————–

Your life had never been easy.

For one you were related to the esteemed Armstrong family. A cousin of the family. You had quite the legacy to live up to.

Your father had been a decorated army officer until his death in the Ishvalan War. You had been expected to walk in his footsteps. And as his only child, there was a lot of pressure on you. And given the fact that you were a girl, you had to work twice as hard. It didn’t help that your father made you aware of your gender every moment of everyday. And not in the most positive of ways.

You could never be an Alchemist like your cousin Alex, you had no desire to become a weapon like him. And you could never be as ruthless and heartless as your cousin Olivier. Even she had once stated that if you were to ever loose the kindness that radiated from your very being, you would loose part of yourself.

So you had decided to forge a path that worked for you. And though you had to hide your real nature while in the army working at the front lines, you had been lucky enough to find people you could be yourself around.

People you trusted had your back no matter what would happen.

After the war, you were personally asked by Flame Alchemist Roy Mustang to work with him. He had said he needed a person who could talk their way out of a situation without having a single shot fired. Translation: He needed someone who could speak to those superior them him without pissing them off. And once you were made aware that Riza would be a part of that Unit as well, you had agreed.

And while that was your initial reason for joining Mustang’s Unit, it began to change over the years as you got to know the rest of your Team.

Riza Hawkeye, your first true friend in the military. You had both shared your worries with one another, your hopes for the future. Talks that had brought the both of you all that much closer to one another. Close enough that you considered one another sisters.

Kain Fuery, the little brother you had always wanted, and since your own mother had died giving birth to a sibling who had never had the chance to draw breath, you saw Kain as your second chance. And given how you were almost always working on the radio, taking orders, sending messages and keeping updates on the latest going-ons in the military, he was always by your side to help however he could.

Vato Falman was your go to person when you needed to get a fact checked about history. He knew everything, and sometimes you would share your information with him to see if he knew anything about it. Not to mention the fact that the both of you would carry out long historical debates and discussions that you both thoroughly enjoyed, and ones that put the rest of your Team to sleep.

Jean Havoc had tried to flirt with you when he had first met you. But had backed off when you had given him a glare Olivier had helped you to perfect years ago. He was still a little afraid of you, but you both got along now. Enough that he would tell you all about his dating life, which you would critique him for quite viciously, much to the amusement of the rest of the Team.

Heymans Breda and you were partners in stealth. The both of you knew everything about everyone’s business. At least everyone who were important. But sometimes the insignificant tidbits the both of you shared did help once in awhile.

And finally there was Roy Mustang.

Your superior. The one who had brought you to be a part of his Team. He must’ve seen something in you that had him bring you in. Then again, he had seen something in all of them. And while you knew you were a valuable asset considering your way to talk yourself out of trouble as efficiently as any conman, you couldn’t help but hope for something different.

Which was utterly ridiculous because nothing could ever happen between the both of you.

You were his subordinate. A soldier under his command. Nothing more, nothing less.

Still it didn’t stop you from growing closer to him. To share your most deepest thoughts with one another. And while Riza was also his confidant, one you were aware of, there was something different when it came to the talks you had with Roy. They were more personal, and felt more like a conversation between a man and a woman, rather then the exchange of information between two soldiers.

And though you tried to stop it, tried your best not to, you couldn’t help but fall in love with him. Fall in love with the man with who regretted every life he had taken, who wanted to see Amestris become a better country. He had a vision, one that was just as grand as him, and you hoped you would be a part of it.

That you would be by his side when it became a reality.

And while it was hard to keep your feelings a secret, considering how they were always just simmering beneath the surface whenever you interacted with him, especially outside of work, they remained unspoken.

And since they remained unspoken, your feelings only grew stronger with each passing day.

————————–

Unbeknownst to you, Roy was in the same predicament as you.

He hoped that you would be by his side when he achieved his dream. Perhaps then his heart would allow him to do what he wanted for so long.

To declare his love for you in that signature rambunctious style of his.

He had kept his feelings a secret from you for so long. Maes was aware of it. As was Riza. He only knew the latter because she had, in thinly veiled words, threatened to dismember him should he ever hurt you.

But he would never hurt you. He would rather die then hurt you intentionally. You, the only source of light and kindness that provided some sort of comfort to his broken soul. So many times he had come close to just confessing, to let everything come out in the open and damn the consequences, but he never did.

He had very nearly confessed when he had broken down in your arms after Maes’s passing. The man who had been his biggest supporter when it came to his feelings for you, but he had stopped. He had no desire to associate such an important moment with the worst time in his life.

Though if he had known that a few short weeks later, you would be on the verge of dying yourself, he would’ve confessed to you right then and there.

————————–

The pain at his side was still near overwhelming. The back of his palm itched and stung where he had carved the symbol he needed for flame alchemy.

But all that pain was nothing.

Nothing compared to the horrifying sight of you in the clutches of the Homunculi Lust.

You looked like you had taken quite the beating, with multiple bruises and cuts littering your body, a majority of them visible through your torn clothes. And you had.

You had lost all control when you had heard Lust speak so proudly and boastfully.

About the Flame Alchemist.

About killing the Flame Alchemist.

But you were no match for an all-powerful creature. Despite your years of training and weapons mastery, she had you pinned against the floor, one of her deadly claws aimed straight at your heart.

Though she changed positions when Roy stumbled in, followed by Riza.

Now she held you in front of herself like a shield, her sharp claw ascending from above your heart to press the tip of it against your delicate throat.

You let out a sob of relief at the sight of him.

“Roy!”

You hardly ever called him by his first name. And just with that word, he knew how worried and scared you had been that he was gone.

“Put her down.” He growled, his thumb itching to throw a fire blast in the direction of the Homunculi. Lust let out a soft laugh.

“Do you really believe you are in position to make demands of me Colonel Mustang?” She purred, the claw wrapped around your waist tightening, causing you to whimper as one of your fractured ribs throbbed with pain. “I shall enjoy tearing your little plaything apart.” Roy gritted his teeth as you let out a painful cry, unable to help yourself as her hold tightened. Beside him, Riza was no better. Her grip on her gun only increased, finger twitching to pull the trigger.

“D-d-o-on’t lis-te-n to h-er.” You managed to call out hoarsely, loud enough for your words to echo in the blindingly white room. Another laugh for Lust, one that had Roy growling under his breath, the fire in his eyes burning just as bright as any flame he normally created.

“Oh my, even on the brink of death you wish to bring your Colonel comfort.” She turned you around so she could look at you in the eye. “Tell me, are you willing to give up your life to save his?” She cooed, smiling sadistically. Your head turned slightly, so you could look at him over your shoulder. The true intensity of your love for Roy Mustang finally sunk in, burning so bright that it prompted you to look at Lust straight in the eye and say one word.

“Yes.”

Behind Lust you caught sight of Alphonse rising to his feet where Lust had thrown him aside during their fight. His armor was hidden behind a wall of stone he had built, so Roy and Riza hadn’t seen him yet. His red glowing eyes found yours, and you knew what was coming next.

A smile pulled at your lips. “But today is not that day.”

Lust barely had time to react to your words when Alphonse suddenly burst into action, sending a wall of stone in her direction. She had to drop you to save herself from being knocked off her feet.

“Now Roy!” The scream had barely left your lips when you felt the searing flames of his alchemy rush past you and engulf the Homunculi.

Lust’s screams of utter pain echoed all around you. Alphonse quickly surrounded you with a stone wall before rushing to your side and shielding you with his body.

Roy’s flames were intense. He was not holding back. Not when the image of you looking so broken, defeated and hurt was fresh in his mind. Not when the sight of you willing to die for him had his insides twisting in a painful way.

Despite the physical pain that had his body throbbing, it seemed nothing compared to the pain he was certain would ravage his very sense of being should he loose you.

And so he unleashed all that fear, anger and anguish in his flames, unblinking and unrelenting as the creature Lust screamed and screamed. Even Riza did not stop him, did not tell him to hold off. Lust was too dangerous to be left alive.

In Alphonse’s protective grasp, you felt your entire body trembling from the pain, but that didn’t stop you from lifting your head once Lust finally fell silent. Somehow, you broke free of his grip around you and managed to peer around the protective wall.

Only to be met with the sight of Roy falling to his knees, looking just as bad as you did. “Roy!” You whimpered, worry lacing your tone, as you tried to stand. But the twisted ankle did not allow you to get any further then a crouch.

“Alphonse, keep an eye on both of them! I’m getting help!” Called Riza as she all but sprinted away knowing neither you, Roy nor Havoc were in any position to be moved without medical assistance.

Roy was lying on his back now his eyes were on you, his arm outstretched, hand reaching out towards you. “Y/n.”

You quickly began to try and crawl towards him, though seeing you struggle, Aphonse quickly took over, lifting you up and bringing you to lie down next to your superior.

As soon as you were there, your hands found one another’s. Your fingers laced together and you held on tight as tears filled your eyes, while his shone with relief. “Are you okay?” He asked, his voice hoarse as he gripped your hand tighter, if that were even possible. You shook your head. “Forget about me. Lust said she killed you. I thought you were dead.” The tears began anew as you looked at his smiling face, very much alive and just as handsome as ever, despite his injured state. He reached out with his other hand to wipe away one of the falling tears. “Its gonna take more then a Homunculus to take me out.” He said in that confident voice of his, prompting a tearful laugh from your lips. Now that the danger has passed, the adrenaline was beginning to leave your body and you could feel your head begin to grow heavy and fuzzy, your eyes burning as you forced yourself to keep them open.

But it was no use. Already your eyelids were drooping, and everything around you was beginning to loose coherency.

Seeing you struggle with staying conscious, Roy turned his gaze to Alphonse who was hovering over them, Roy smiled. “Thanks Alphonse. Thank you for looking after the woman I love.”

Those were the last words you heard before you slowly slipped into the sweet embrace of darkness.

————————–

The next time you became aware of your surroundings you were lying on something soft.

Mumbling incoherently, you lifted a hand to your forehead, only to be met with resistance given that your arm was in a sling. Your entire body ached and felt so heavy that you were sure it had been run over by a tank.

But the real reason behind your current predicament slowly returned as your brain began to wake up.

Lust.

Lust hurting Alphonse.

Lust fighting you.

Taunting you.

Telling you Roy was dead.

Roy?

Roy!

“Roy!” His name fell from your lips as you suddenly sat up straight, followed by a cry of pain as your still healing ribs protested at the sudden movement. You wrapped an arm around your abdomen, grunting in pain.

“Yes?”

Startled you looked up, your head whipping to the side, only to be greeted with the sight of a very much alive Roy Mustang lying in a bed adjacent to yours. You could make out another bed next to his, with Havoc snoring away. It was the middle of the night, the only source of light in the room from the small lamp Roy had turned on as he read a book.

And seeing him sitting there, bandaged and looking so much better from when you had last seen it, doing something as mundane as reading a book, you couldn’t help but let out a sound of utter relief as you buried your face in your hands. You didn’t cry, but you were rather close.

“Oh you bastard.” Your words were muffled, but he heard you, considering he let out a chuckle. “Not exactly the words a man who confessed to you wants to hear, but I’ll take it to mean you’re feeling better now.”

You sighed, before removing your hands and turning to look at him. “It took you nearly dying to finally confess to me. You really know how to make a girl feel special you know.” You said, your smile soft yet teasing as you turned your head to look at him. Roy shrugged. “What can I say? I have a dramatic flare. Its a big part of my personality.” He admitted, smirking at you as he carefully slid from his bed, wincing from the pain at his side.

Your eyes dropped to his abdomen as he sat on the bed beside you. “How’re you feeling?” You asked, worry lacing your tone as your gaze moved to his hand where the symbol for flame alchemy was now scabbed over. You couldn’t help yourself as you reached out and gently took his hand in between your own. “Well my side still hurts, and I’m sharing a room with two other people despite my rank and not being looked after by a hot nurse, but other then that I have no complaints.” His words prompted a gentle laugh out of you as you finally lifted your gaze from his hand to meet his.

To say you were taken aback by the intensity of his eyes would be an understatement. You held his gaze, even as he reached up to brush your hair behind your ear. He didn’t lower his hand. Instead it stayed there, moving only to gently cup your cheek, brushing his thumb against the half-healed cut where Lust had caught you with one of her claws.

“I know you’ll probably tell me off later, but when Lust told me that she had killed you.” Your voice trembled slightly at the memory. “Something inside me broke and I started to attack her, with no regard for my own life.” The admittance had you a cold feeling creeping down your back but you continued, your eyes dropping to his chest. “In that moment I realized that I didn’t want to live. Not in a world where you weren’t alive.”

You sighed. “What I’m trying to say Roy, is that you mean so much to me. And I know this goes against every military rule there is about fraternizing with your superior but I-I love you too.” The words were barely out of your mouth before he closed whatever distance there was and pressed his lips against yours in a gentle kiss. The gesture was so unlike him, that it had you staring at him in surprise once he pulled back.

He smirked. “I know, I’m that good.” He said, and though his smile was smug, his eyes were sincere and adoring as he looked at you. Shaking your head you leaned forward to press your foreheads together, noses just barely touching, a wide smile on your lips. “I’ll need a repeat of that to judge for myself.” You stated, prompting him to let out a laugh, before he moved to comply to your request.

However the moment was broken by the grumbling of a certain fellow team member.

“Would you two stop flirting? People are trying to sleep here!”

You couldn’t help it as you muffled your laugh by pressing your lips against his once more.

#Roy Mustang #roy mustang x reader #Roy #roy mustang x y/n #roy mustang x oc #Fullmetal Alchemist #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #fmab

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marilynthornhilllover · 3 months

Text

Just a little bit Colder

Mean!Vanessa shelly x fem!Reader

Warning: smut, bathroom sex, use of vibrator, clitoral play, cunniligus ( literally 2 licks) , enemies to lovers, hate sex, degradation at the finest, slight praise kink, mommy kink, sucking of nipples, choking and slapping kink, smoking of cigarettes, pet names, age gap, slight spanking, hair pulling, mean vanessa, orgasm denial, naive reader etc the list terribly goes on.

You and Mike had been friends for quite some time. The both of you first met eachother at a Cafe that you once worked at, one morning abby his younger sister was having a little tantrum because Mike didn't want to buy her Lemon donuts, being the generous person that you were you offered to purchase them for her out of your pocket money.

Obviously Mike refused, thanking you for the kind gesture but the little girl just wouldn't stop fussing. About one decade or eternity later she left him with no other option than to take up your offer. The both of you exchange numbers and they left the Cafe.

Now that was about two months ago. You never heard back from Mike. Not that you wanted too. It's just a little small conversation would be nice. You brushed it off as nothing and carried on with your life. Mike was not your type to begin with and the both of you were the same age, and you had a thing for older people.

You were at your friends house for her brother birthday party when you heard a notification from your phone. You glanced at the screen to see a pop up message from Mike.

It read : sorry to ask such a big favor of you so late, especially how we don't really know eachother quite well, but guessing by the gesture you made the other day I hope your a kind person. Would you mind watching my little sister tomorrow at 7am, I have a little mission at the station and it's gonna take all day and I don't wanna leave her home unattended.... please?

You sighed gently before pushing your phone back into your pocket. It's not that you didn't want to, or that you had a problem with babysitting his little sister, the poor guy just needs a hand. But there's no way your gonna get up at 7 am in the morning just to watch some dudes sister for the entire day.

You had other things to do and places to be. You tried your best to enjoy the rest of the night but your phone just kept going off, drawing your friends attention to you.

" who's messaging you so much y/n" asked one of your close friend ava. You flashed her a annoyed face before pulling out your phone from your back pocket. Again a pop up message read.

" please, I'll even pay you if you'd like"

You groaned softly before typing out a quick response.

" I'll think about it and message you in the morning, I'm busy right now, just like you I also have a busy life" if it sounded harsh then that's because you intended it to sound harsh. You pushed your friend playfully back into the party mood as the both of you danced your souls away for the rest of the night.

After you got home you undressed and took a quick shower. As you were doing your skincare routine your phone dinged again. You huffed glancing down at what he had to say this time.

" 300$ and I'll add a 50 if I'm late after work, it's your time really and I'd appreciate it" you sighed, at this point you gaved in. Once more you texted a quick reply before entering your room to dry off.

" I'll be there as early as I can *smilie face emoji* ".

The next morning you groaned as the sun light kissed you from behind the curtains. sighing you took a slight glance at your alarm clock.

9: 45 A.M

You practically flew from your bed, your duvet quickly being abandoned on the floor. You checked your phone to see four missed calls from Mike and three pop up messages asking where you were and if your still on. You mutter shit over and over again before dashing into the shower. After getting ready you tried calling Mike but there were zero response.

It's either he turned off his phone or he blocked your number.

You checked your chat to see if he had sent you his location before quickly driving over to his place.

You pulled up in his driveway and parked your car. You fixed your hair and lip gloss before walking up to the door and knocking gently. Your mind wondered off as you tried to come up with excuses to tell Mike as to why you were late, or after all his car wasn't in the driveway so you diverted your mind to ways in which you can try trick a little girl into thinking you weren't a completely bad person for showing up late.

You were snapped out of your trance when the door flew open. You averted your eyes to the person infront of you. Standing infront of you was a very, very good looking blonde hair lady dressed in police clothes. She was a slight dirty blonde, crystal blue eyes and a nice fucking body shape. Her facial expression however spoke for itself.... it wasn't as pleasant as she seem to appear.

" yes?" Her voice was warm, welcoming, yet so cold and bitter as if she was someones old grummy grandfather who already accepted his fate and wanted to go out to this world. Your words got caught in your throat as you took a step back away from her. It's as if all of the air was pushed out of your lungs.

You didn't want to be viewed as some creep so you quickly answered.

" um, i- uh I'm here for abby" you spoke, looking behind her to see the young girl on the sofa with another young girl playing with dolls and stuff animals. You gaze went back to the blonde woman infront of you when she stepped down onto the step below you and closed the door. At this rate she was just centimeters away from your lips.

You could feel her hot breath tickle the hairs on your neck as she loomed over you by perhaps two inches.

" you better explain yourself properly young lady before I arrest you, for trespassing and attempt of kidnap of a minor" she spoke, her hand reaching for her gun slightly. You'd be lying if you said she didn't look hot right now. A slight hair strand blowing in her face, eyebrows stressed together and lips perched together closely.

" trespassing? Fucking kidnap? Who are you judge judy? Look Mike had asked me last night if I could watch Abby for him today, I woke up late and he's not answering his phone, I don't know what hero your try'na play, or who you are but you need to chill, it doesn't suit you" the woman's expression changed by the Slightest with her lip curving into a thin smirk but it didn't soften.

She stepped back up on the door step and pulled out her phone, she dialed some numbers before the Phone began ringing. She eyed you suspiciously before Turning around just as the person picked up.

" hi, yeah mike- no nothings wrong abbys fine. Look there's some girl at your door, claiming" she air quotes the word before sneaking a sheer glance at you before turing back around. " that she's here to babysit Abby" she pauses for a moment while nodding before hanging up. She opens the door and turns her body side ways for you to enter.

Her eyes undressed your body and your choice of clothing as you entered. Just before you could step foot over the line of the door, her hand grapped your stomach and brought you close towards her chest.

" did you forget the occasion or were you originally planning to go to a strip club for some extra cash?" She asked, again you couldn't breathe. She was toxic, like a drug. Her scent was luring. It's like everything about this woman was a trap. She's to good to be true. You removed her hand from your stomach noticing that her hands are vainy. You gulped as you tried your best to suppress the moan that was itching to be realesed from your throat.

You waved at abby and her friend as they made their way inside of Abbys room to continue playing with their dolls. You turned around to look at the woman slowly sipping her coffee as she stared at you intensely. You cringed as you placed both your hands on your hips.

You averted your gaze away from hers, looking around the house you noticed that it wasn't bad. It was quite very modern and slightly fancy, it was small but the coziness of it definitely won over that speculation. You turned back around and to your surprise the blondie was smoking, you sighed as walked up to her. Her eyes immediately locked on yours, so hooded and lingering, filled with what seems to be lust and desire.

" look little girl, if your here to annoy me, just go home, I mean your presence isn't even needed here, abby has me. She surely doesn't need a slut to take care of her i mean come on-" you zoned out, your face showing pure disbelief as you felt utter disrespect. What did she just call you?.... you felt your body shake with rage as your jaw tensed. You were the type of person to have watery eyes when you were angry.

You looked at her badge and saw her name.

" how about you go fuck yourself vanessa, mhm how about that. And who are you to call me a fucking slut? Atleast you've never fucked me. You know what I'll leave and make sure you explain in perfect detail to mike why I left, you little shit" you stormed into the bathroom in a way of trying to calm your nerves.

After some time the door to the bathroom opened and closed. You looked into the mirror only to make eye contact with Vanessa. Before either of you could utter a word to eachother she grabbed your hair from behind forcing you to arch your back as her chest pressed against your back.

You let out a soft whimper looking up at her through the mirror, teary-eyed. Her eyes were dark and sultry as they bore into your soul setting you on fire. She brought her lips close to your ear and her tongue gently licked your earlobe before pulling it into her mouth and sucking on it before her hand that wasn't occupied in your hair travled down your body.

" vanny please-" at this point you could feel as your moral side betray you. your mind went completely fuzzy, your body yearned for her touch, her touch, the touch of the devil herself.

" begging already sweetie, thought you told me to go fuck myself, now you want mommy to fuck you? Is that it?" She asked tugging on your hair harshly, you moaned as your eyes rolled back slightly when her cold finger tips brushed against your clothed cunt.

" so desperate for mommy.... I asked a question slut, do you want me to fuck you" her tone was harsh and demanding as she spanked your ass before rubbing it slightly after you cried out. Making eye contact with her again you noticed she had something in the pocket of her police vest. Something rather bulged and purple colored.

You breath hitched as you groaned in desperation rubbing your thighs together for relief. Upon noticing this vanessa smiled before spanking you again which naturally caused you to reopen your legs, giving her the perfect access needed to get to your cunt. She used her hands to pull down your tank top exposing your breast to her as your nipples erected from the temperature in the room.

You turned your body around swiftly connecting your lips with hers in a heated kiss, as if the bathroom wasn't humid already. Vanessa smirked against your lips as she listened to the whiny sounds you made in attempt to get up onto the counter. She tapped your legs, a way of telling you to jump in which you did before she gently placed you onto the counter.

She pulled away from the kiss leaving a small bridge of saliva from your mouth back to hers. She hitched your skirt up around your abdomen, eyes flicking back up to yours. She watched as you nodded and bit your bottom lip before she proceeded to kneel.

Her tongue ran over the areas of your inner thighs causing you to slightly shiver, your head falling back against the mirror. She smirked before grabbing the hemming of your lace panties - God you really came prepared for her to fuck you. She pulled your panties to the side while still maintaining her mission on leaving only marks for her to see inside of your thighs.

The cold air on your cunt was driving you crazy, you needed her so unbelievably bad, you've had sex with other women but none has come close to making you feel how vanessa is currently making you feel - as if you were floating to a place far, far away where the two of you would be able to fuck forever.

Your fingers intertwined in her golden locks, pulling her face towards your cunt but vanessa was quick, she immediately pulled alway before coming face to face with you. Her eyes were lidded and not a sheer piece of mercy was evident in them. Her gaze dropped to your breast before returning to your eyes.

Again with that Goddam smirk. You gasped as she latched her mouth onto your left nipple, your head fell back as your eyes closed in utter pleasure. You felt as her cold finger tips wonder down your belly, mound then slowly as they crept all the way down to your slit before sandwiching two fingers into your slit as slightly stretched your hole without thrusting her fingers into you.

" oh god- fuck- vanessa please" your moan was soft and breathy as it almost came out as a whisper or a plea. Vanessa's tongue continued to suck horrendously on your small bud as her tongue swirled and poked at it now and then. She chuckled darkly feeling your hips lift in attempt to reach or receive some sort of friction or pleasesure.

" such a good girl mommy" she muttered before releasing your bud with a small ' pop' sound. She gaved you a sinister look before her finger tip began to rub tight , fast circles around your clit. Again your head fell back, grabbing her biceps your back arched off the counter slightly as you lost all control to your moral self, every single ounce of self respect that was left in you.

Vanessa now owned you and your mind, you were now hers.

She could feel as your pussy covered her finger in a new layer of wetness. She watched as your thighs trembled slightly. She gazed up at you but your eyes were already focused on her slender fingers rubbing big circles on your puffy bud. Your skin was drenched in sweat as your chest rised and fell with every breath you took. Feeling your oragsm quickly approaching.

An idea popped into her head and she immediately followed suit. She wanted to see, really how far you'd go for her. She stopped fingering your clit and slid that same finger down to your aching hole before teasing you by circling around it very, very slowly almost not even moving at all.

She chuckled as she felt you clench around nothing.

" Pleasepleaseplease" you whispered as a prayer. She leaned down towards your neck, slowly leaving open mouthed kisses down your drenched skin and your collarbone, causing you to shiver. It's safe to say that you were an absolute raging needy whore for her and only her.

Her hot breath tortured your neck as she spoke up" what do you want my love? Use your words" she husked, her voice deep and husky, slowly draining you of all you sanity. Suddenly you felt as she thrusted two fingers into your cunt, curling her fingers at the right spot as your gummy walls clamped down on her fingers, greedily begging her to stay.

You eyes rolled back as you let out a pornographic moan. Again she removed her fingers from you hole causing you to sigh in utter frustration. At this point you were getting fed up, you wanted what you wanted and she wasn't giving you what she said she'd provide.

" fuck! Would you just fuck me already bitch!" You realized what had just come out of your mouth when vanessa entire face went dark. Her pupils completely delayed. You couldn't read her expressions or even break down what could possibly be thinking. You've never regretted anything in your life more than this moment.

"I'm sor-" before you could finish your sentence you felt a hot stink across your cheek. You turned to look at vanessa, shocked. Did she just... slap you..... you'd probably slap her back but God it just made you get wetter.

" do it again" Vanessa's eyebrow quirked as a slight curve appeared on her lips but just as fast as it appeared it disappeared. Her hand came down again on your cheek causing you to whimper. You felt as her hand gripped your neck in a rather harsh manner. She brought your face closer to hers, lips inches around.

This woman would be the death of you.

Not only was she older by twelve years, she's blonde, has blue eyes, a hot cop and she's rough.

Her hands squeezed your cheeks, snapping you out of your trance. You definitely ignited something mysterious within her, another side that you were longing to see. To feel .

" do not fuck with me little girl. I will fuck you up" her voice crack a little and you tried - you really tried with every cell in your body not to laugh but just your human. Vanessa tightened her grip around your neck and slammed your head against the mirror causing you to moan.

" you take me for a joke? That's what it is? I'll show you the real joke" although you had no clue what she meant you had the perfect idea what she was referring too. Vanessa got up and unzipped her pocket, she pulled out a small shiny pink circle looking object before kneeling again. You felt as her tongue flicked up and down your slit twice before the small object slipped into you.

" get dressed" she demanded and you just compiled. After fixing your clothing as best as possible. you exited after her to find abby and her friend eating Mac and cheese and Mike standing in the kitchen making bacon and grilled cheese sandwich. You froze.

Vanessa was already sitting at the dinner table smoking a cigarette as if nothing had just happened. When she looked eyes on you she immediately averted them back towards mike. She cleared her throat mike turned around to face Vanessa before glancing up at you. He smiled softly.

" hi y/n! So glad you made it, I trust that you two have been getting along?" You nodded and he smiled before glancing over at vanessa who was breathing smoke through her nose, eyes fixed on you, making you shiver as you quickly look away. She left you so needy and destroyed begging for her mercy.

Poor Mike, only if he knew what went down in his bathroom. The sinful Arora he would smell if he were to enter it now. The sweat of the counter, fog on the glass. The smell of sex would haunt him forever.

" I know how...well... unreasonable vanessa can be at time, anyway I came home early for lunch so I thought I'd make us some, wanna stay for some?" He asked and that's when you felt it. The vibrations, the intense shocking in your vagina. You grabbed onto the counter as you let out a small mouth which you covered up as a groan.

" sorry. Its just Cramps. girl stuff" Mike nodded in understanding.

" let me get you my mom's old hot water and jel compress" he said before he left to go into the bedroom. You felt Vanessa's piercing gaze. Gazing over at her you both locked together in a trance. She winked at you just as Mike returned. You thanked him and he went back to cooking.

Neither of you broke your gazes. You knew things were about to get heated as she secretly showed you her phone with the vibrators settings. Your chest continued to rise and fall as the ache between your legs only continued to grew. Vanessa shelly will be the death of you.

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