#and i clutch onto it with an iron grip. because damn it. it has to get better than this. it has to.

[radiotorn]

having to restrain from saying anything when my dad dares to say that men get paid LESS than women. in what world. are you out of your fucking mind old man.

[shadowsingercassia]

The Gate To Home | Chapter 3: "And the only reason you're still alive is because I just cleaned my nails"

Batboysxreader (still not revealing who it is 🤭)

Summary: You are an Ironteeth witch and one of Manon's Thirteen. During the third Valg war, all the Thirteen were dead, and you - heavily wounded - fell through a portal. Landing on a far away land, in a war camp, everyone seeming petrified by your iron teeth and nails, you see three males. Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel, your only hopes. But which one of these hopes will help you find your way back into a new home?

Warnings: descriptive violence, blood, whipping, torture, mentions of breeding and sex, Valg, mentions of vomit (not graphic), language, blades, severed heads, broken bone (let me know if I missed something!)

Words: 3.5k

The italic is past memories!

Light queen of shadows spoilers!

This chapter is dedicated to everyone who has ever felt completely helpless. I hope the music came/comes your way ❤️

Other parts: Chapter 1, Chapter 2

You awoke to two men, with their knives in their hands, ready to strike. Iron nails and teeth snapped into place, and before they could have noticed it, you sliced their forearms. Their scream of pain filled your ears, causing a smirk to tug on your lips.

Whirling, rolling out of your bed, you hit the ground on your hands and knees, your skin tearing. Biting back your wince, you stood, flashing them a toothy grin as your iron teeth gleamed in the faint glow of the arising sun.

Dawn painted the room in hues of golden and orange, and it will most likely be bathed in red by the end of this fight.

But that was not the case as four more men appeared on the door, wings tucked in tight to fit inside the small cabin. You knew you could take them. You had taken six men before. Well, not in your silk nightgown, but it would work, and you'd look damn good, even if you had just woken up.

Your unbound hair cascaded in loose waves down your back, and you wished the nightgown was longer. It stopped to your upper thighs, and they stared lustfully at your bare legs. And you stared at them, biting back a disgusted expression.

Not giving them time to stare anymore, since you were bored out of your mind by their staring, you lunge, and they immediately focus on you, weapons drawn. Iron clashed upon their steel blades, and you mentally scolded yourself for not reaching for the dagger under your pillow. They pressed on as you tried to hold them back, ducking beneath two twin daggers meant to embed themselves onto your arm.

Your leg shot out, tripping a man onto another as they barreled back. Reaching for the dagger under your pillow, your fingers brushed against the hilt before another man gripped your wrist and hauled you back. You hit the wall, wood digging into your half-exposed back. Lunging for him, he gripped your other wrist as well, pinning each beside your head.

You thrashed in his vise grip, but he held tight, so you stomp on his foot, a sharp pain shooting through your own leg as you bit the inside of your cheek to keep in a groan. His grip loosened, letting your fist connect with his face before your nails gouge four lines onto his cheek, red blood forming and dripping down. Some of it even sprayed on your nightgown, staining the thin fabric crimson.

Shoving him off, you leave him clutching his cheek as another man's fist slams onto your jaw. Blood pools in your mouth, and you spit it on his boot before your knee makes contact with his stomach. His groan echoed through the air as he stumbled back, a satisfied grin taking over your face, bloodstained iron teeth on full display.

A few men recoiled, holding back from vomiting on the spot. The man from before - the one who you stomped on his foot - had recovered but hesitated slightly as he saw your grin, his grip on his dagger faltering.

Another man - one of the brave if not the only one - lunged, and you blocked his attack with ease. Joining him was the 'foot-stomp' man as he fought against you. He managed to get a grip on you, his blade pressing against your throat, his other hand holding tight against your middle. You could have gotten out of the grip if he also hadn't disabled your legs. Damn him.

Drenched in sweat, the silk clung to your body uncomfortably, and it wouldn't have bothered you until you noticed eyes darkening, eyes glued to the more than necessary amount of cleavage. Disgusting brutes, you thought as you flexed your iron nails, and then it hit you that your hands were not bound in any way. So, you grabbed hold of the man's shoulder and the iron dug into his muscle, tearing through skin and tendon. Blood splattered on you as you dragged your nails. Towards his neck. His throat.

One slice, and he slumped down on the floor with a thud, his throat spilling onto the wooden boards. The scent of iron tinged the air, and you licked the blood clean from your index nail. You could have mistaken it for mortal blood if it weren't for that hint of something other in it, that Illyrian taste that you learned to recognize. It's not that you didn't expect Illyrians. Besides, there are only Illyrians here, but you haven't gotten used to their blood.

Mostly, you did it for your enjoyment. Besides, blood for witches is like wine for mortals, as you had stated to Rhysand.

The other men stood frozen as you licked their comrade's blood from your fingers. Few of them even vomited, the tang of it coating the air undoubtedly unpleasant for them. You wondered why they had come here in the first place, but then a voice, that voice, dark and tinged with rage, Devlon.

"I commanded you all to bring her to me. What the hell is taking so long?" He paused as he surveyed the scene, one of his soldiers on the ground, his blood in a pool of scarlet around his neck and his head hung only by a few strings of skin. You noticed the way Devlon's expression twisted into one of utter disgust as he took in your bloodied nightgown and the way you licked the blood off your nails as if it was nothing.

Sighing, he approached you and stopped a respectful distance from you. "Do you know what you're causing? You kill my men on a daily basis. What if there is an attack? Then what, witch?" Devlon didn't bother masking his utter rage and annoyance, but he didn't want to risk his head.

"Then I suppose I'll fight by your Illyrians and slaughter the enemies," you said nonchalantly, as if this was a casual thing for you, which it was.

"The only reason why you're still here is because I think the High Lord would be very interested in whatever you are." The High Lord. You quickly go over what Rhysand had told you. A High Lord is a person who rules a Court of Prythian. His father is the High Lord of the Night Court and... that's all you can remember.

He could have called you an idiot if it weren't for your mental shields that you actually managed to keep in place this time. Finally, he couldn't pry into your mind, though you think that right now he might come in handy. But you shove away the thought. Weakness... disgusting. No, you were not weak.

As you stared into Devlon's icy eyes, he held your gaze, and your eyes flickered down to your nails, now licked clean and back to him. "And the only reason you're still alive is because I just cleaned my nails," you retort, deciding to piss him off since that's the second thing you're best at. After killing people.

Although at his statement that the High Lord would find you interesting, your stomach tightened and twisted. The mere thought of that made you sick to the gut. Devlon ordered all the men out, mostly because they were all deathly pale, and their vomit literred your small cabin. The men were eager to leave, scurrying out with a few strides. Once the men were put off the room, Devlon was on you before you could react, pinning your hands behind your back in a way so that you couldn't scratch him. "It was so hard for them to complete such a simple task." His grip on your wrists tightened as he closed two iron cuffs over them. "The High Lord would appreciate you very much," You couldn't move your hands, and your iron nails retracted as they now had no use.

"You know, he requested I bring you. The moment I told him of a blood-drinking witch in the Illyrian camps, he wanted to see you for himself. I'm not sure what he wants of you, but you can take a guess until we get there, and there will be no Rhysand, Cassian, or Azriel there. You are powerless, witch."

Genuine fear coursed through you. What would the High Lord of the Night Court want from you? You could only assume the worst.

Memories coursed through you, of the Valg breeding with the Yellowlegs, Elide coming into Manon's room and vomiting for five minutes straight and a few times more as she recalled what she'd seen. The Valg. And then Rolland, bursting into the room, half of the Thirteen were on their knees and screaming once his darkness had seeped through the room. You could only hope he wasn't like that.

Winnowing you to a palace, you didn't dare lower your mental shields since the High Lord also has daemati powers, as Rhysand told you. The palace had high ceilings and intricate chandeliers. Starlight seemed to drip off of them. Stone walls were decorated with paintings as you were dragged through the long corridors and hallways. All the windows were wide open, providing a view of the Night Court, the mountains peeking over the city and the sun shining brightly over them. Despite the beauty of it, you couldn't focus on anything other than what the High Lord might do to you, and Devlon was right. There was no Rhysand, or Cassian, or Azriel.

Two guards, clad in light armor, opened the heavy double doors to the throne room. Hands resting atop their swords, they surveyed Devlon as he brought you in. You froze, and it was as if the world stilled as you looked into the High Lord's violet eyes, icy, emotionless. Nothing like Rhysand's warm eyes.

You swallow, and for the first time, there was no retort on the tip of your tongue, only talons scraping against your mental shields.

"I believe Rhysand taught you how to do that, witch," he said with another attempt to break your mental shields. You nodded once, slowly. "Lower the shields, or I'll shatter them, witch."

You knew how, Rhysand had taught you how to, but you found yourself stuck, as if your mind went blank and couldn't do anything. The talons digged into the shield, and panic ran through your veins, enveloping you in a blanket of despair. Desperately, you tried to lower the shields, but you couldn't, and the talons dug deeper and deeper.

Until it broke. Your mental shields shattered, and all your thoughts and memories rushed to the surface. The High Lord explored each one of them.

~

Chains dangled as Manon was forced to tie you to a wooden pole. Her grandmother's orders, the Blackbeak Matron. Iskra was irritating and picking fights, and you couldn't have helped it if you tried. She was lucky she only got off with a broken nose and finger.

Manon secured the chains, and you faced her as she gave you a cold look. You were closest to her and the most loyal out of the Thirteen.

Her grandmother handed her the whip, its iron tip catching in the faint light from the massive window. All three covers, Blackbeaks, Yellowlegs, and Bluebloods, had gathered around.

The whip made a loud snap as it connected with the skin of your back, tearing through it. Sticky blue liquid flowed down in rivulets. Manon whipped you again and again. Ten whips, that was what you would get. Originally, the whip was offered to Iskra, but she refused since her finger was still healing.

Biting back your sounds of pain, the low groans, and the screams threatening to rip from your throat, you heard Iskra.

"On second thought, I'd like a turn with that," she pointed at the whip for emphasis, grinning at you, her iron teeth gleaming.

Manon looked at the Blackbeak Matron, and she nodded. For a moment, her gaze seemed apologetic as it locked with yours, and then it was back to that icy, emotionless stare as she handed the whip to Iskra.

She looked over at your back, which you assumed was torn and messy from the blue blood coating it. Iskra brought on quite the show, turning the whip on her hands, testing out her grip. Taking her position behind you, you felt her gaze locked on you.

"You get three whips, Iskra," the Blackbeak Matron's voice was firm, final. If it wasn't the Matron, she'd probably roll her eyes. "And hurry, we don't have all day," she added.

Manon hadn't been trying to intentionally make it hurt, but Iskra, even with her broken finger, she managed to make a hiss of pain escape your lips. The sound of the snap was so loud your ears ringed, and your back throbbed from the impact. You could feel every inch of iron covering the tip of the whip as it connected with already torn flesh. The second time, you almost screamed. Sending a quick prayer to the Three-faced goddess, you hope it wouldn't leave scars.

It did leave scars, three long lines down your back.

~

Looking into the mirror, you looked at the scars Iskra had left more than a decade ago. You always despised them, but they wouldn't go away. A knock on the door had you pulling on the shirt nearest to you. Manon rushed inside and gripped your arm, dragging you off to her bedroom where Elide was vomiting, the rest of the Thirteen already there."Tell us about the chamber," she commanded, and yet you swore her eyes softened for a fraction as they landed upon the girl who was too small to be eighteen and vomiting her guts out. Elide, that was her name.

She recounted what she saw "they- they were chai- chained to tables... and- and... and they looked as if-" Elide vomited again. "All of them had at least... one- one child, and they- they were... ready to have another one-" she vomited again.

"That's not possible," Manon said, although her voice faltered, her eyes wide.

Elide's words struck deeper than you had expected. The Yellowlegs being used as breeding experiments and... "How did the babes look like?" Manon shot you a glance, not expecting you to ask that so suddenly.

After another set of vomit, she managed to answer, "their skin was black, darker than darkness itself." Elide wiped her mouth on the sleeves of her pale brown dress before continuing. "They had already grown two sets of teeth, iron like, but dark." You tried visualizing it. These things weren't babies. They were demons made out of darkness.

A lot of the Thirteen had already vomited once or twice, and even Manon excused herself for a moment as she went for some fresh air.

You didn't even realize it before your lunch came up to your throat, and you, too, excused yourself as you left the room, vomiting in the nearest dark corner.

Wiping your mouth, you entered the room and shut the door, and a few moments later, it opened again, revealing a handsome man. His golden hair was messy, untamed. This was the man who Elide had seen in that chamber.

Darkness unleashed upon the room, swallowing everything to shadows. Ghislaine's scream bounced off the walls, and in a heartbeat, you were on that man, pinning him down. For a moment, fear flickered on his face. He murmured something, too quiet enough for you to hear it before he spoke. The demon faltered for a second and the actual voice of that man sounded.

"Please- kill me... my name is- Rolland, kill me- please," he pleaded and begged. Rolland, that was his name. You supposed you could grant him a quick death. In a heartbeat, you reached for your dagger at the same time the demon came back and thrashed in your grip, managing to come loose.

"Manon!" She understood and lunged on that demon, iron nails on display as she slit his throat, black blood going everywhere. His head hit the ground with a slick thud, and the darkness vanished.

Half of the Thirteen were on their knees, clutching their heads and vomiting.

~

You had taken a mortal male to your bed for the night - well, technically, he had taken you to his bed, and you had complied - and as you lay there, he was surprisingly gentle and loving. His arms were wrapped around your waist, holding you close to him.

Suddenly, he spoke, "You know, you have three gold flecks in your right eye and five on your left." A chuckle bubbled out of you, your soft laughter echoing through his silent cabin.

"I don't know I find that creepy or romantic, that you took the time to count the gold flecks in my eyes," his warm breath hit your exposed neck as he breathed in your scent and he chuckled against your pulse point.

A soft moan fell from your lips as he pressed gentle kisses on your already sensitive skin.

"You're beautiful"

~

You had always wondered what those gold flecks were. Eight in total, three in your right eye, five on your left. This man had never left your mind even for a second. Not when you were training and not when you were sleeping. Even your dreams were plagued with him. And it wasn't only because of his words but the sex had been good as well. But it had been so long since then, a whole two decades. You shoved the thoughts of him away and focused on what you had been thinking just a moment before.

Manon had the gold flecks too, to be exact she had golden eyes. A few of the Thirteen as well. She had mentioned something about it. The gold. The eyes of the Valg Kings. Perhaps that was why the Valg didn't affect you a week ago.

~

The talons retreated and slammed on your shields again, tearing them down as if it was glass. It shattered and left you there, vulnerable as your worst memories came onto the surface. And the worst one of them all.

~

You were five years old. The sun shone in the clear sky as your mother held you in her arms, comforting you. Previously, you had fallen and scraped your elbow on a rock. Once you saw the blue blood, you ran to your mother, and your father had come outside. He knew you were a witch, your mother was one, and he still loved her, and he loved you too.

Through the shadows stepped a figure, her dark hair gleaming. Darkness seemed to follow her, and as she approached, your mother tensed and shook you. "Y/n. Run." You shook your head. "Run," her tone was firm, and with each step the woman took towards her, your mother told you again to run.

When you didn't budge she got in front of you, her power creating a shield around you. You couldn't hear the conversation clearly, but you heard her say to you, "bury my body under the oak tree," and you could see as an iron nail pierced through your mother's throat.

You screamed, louder than you've ever screamed, the shield around you fell. Hitting the ground, your knees scraped against your front lawn's grass. Your father was the next one that woman slaughtered, his body right next to your mother's. Their heads were severed off their bodies, staring at you with wide eyes.

You didn't know if your mother's body ended up being buried under the oak tree. The tree on which she had spent her late nights teaching you about the stars when you were just a babe.

But each year, you would go leave a white gardenia, her favorite flower, under that specific oak tree.

~

The talons retreated from your mind, and you realized tears were streaming down your face. You swore the High Lord's icy gaze softened, just a fraction, but you forced yourself to believe it was your imagination.It stopped, the High Lord ordering Devlon to lock you into a cell until he decided what to do with you.

You didn't bother memorizing the halls and corridors. It didn't matter. He had broken you, shattered your mind, and shields.

Once he tossed you into that cell, you coiled in on one of the dark corners, trying to clutch even a hint of warmth as you pressed your knees close to your chest, crying until there was nothing but you and the haunting memories.

At night, you either saw nightmares or you couldn't sleep at all.

Broken, broken, broken.

Powerless, vulnerable, weak, broken.

Music.

Perhaps another fragment of your imagination as you heard a soft melody, as if from a piano, the soothing notes like a balm to your soul, giving you a moment of warmth by the notes as they embedded themselves into your heart.

Every soft note, you savored it, relished in it. Even if you were hallucinating and hearing things, you calmed.And for the rest of the night, no nightmares came.

-------------------------☆-------------------------

a/n: FINALLY I got this done and see what I did there with the music (I think we can all guess who send it 🙂). More torture coming the reader's way (and then there's fluff? Or not? I apologize in advance for this and the next part because I have already drafted half of it 🤭)

series taglist: @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @anarchiii @saltedcoffeescotch @blackgirlmagicforever @okaytrashpanda

general taglist: @blessthepizzaman @amara-moonlight @homeslices @flourishandblotts-inc

comment '🤍' to be added to my series taglist!

comment '💕' to be added to my general taglist!

Love, Cassia ❤️

[chanshoesunite]

IMAGINE: Getting naughty with Chan, but you're not alone... pt. 4

IMAGINE Chan has had enough – he is a patient man, but you can’t push him too far, and he feels excluded as he watches Minho positively rail your pussy. He moves behind him, grabbing onto his hips. “I think you need a bit of support here, Minho-ya,” he growls as he clutches his friend with an iron grip, positively controlling his movements as he pushes closer to him, Chan’s chest against Minho’s back. “Let me show you how to fuck Y/N right.”

You watch Minho, who is holding you up by your own hips, still his thrusts and turn his face to his hyung. Their faces are so close together, it’s practically a dare. Minho stares him down, but Chan isn’t backing down, either, their eyes locked in silent combat.

“Go on, then,” the younger man whispers roughly, and the moment is so charged, it’s making your skin tingle. “Show me.”

It doesn’t surprise you when Chan practically lunges forward to kiss Minho, and their kiss, while not gentle, is nothing short of erotic – the way those two struggle for dominance, Minho teasing Chan by playfully biting his lip, Chan crowding against Minho to not let him forget who, when push comes to shove, is the boss. A moan escapes you as you watch your lovers make out while one of them is inside you, and as if your noise has reminded them of your presence, Chan begins pushing Minho into you, effectively guiding the pace at which you’re being fucked, while still kissing him.

His lips wander to Minho’s neck, and the bite he administers doesn’t seem playful anymore, but Minho’s moan gives you goosebumps, and you know your own climax isn’t far off. Chan knows, too, because at that moment, he groans, half in frustration, half in lust, “Come on Minho, I’m so hard, make her come and then let’s spitroast her.”

His words, together with a few well-placed rubs to your clit, are your undoing, and you come on Minho’s cock not half a minute later, still watching Chan mouthing at Minho’s face, the recipient of his administrations closing his eyes in pleasure. Your broken moans tell Chan all he needs to know, and immediately he draws his friend back.

“My turn – take her mouth,” he growls, pushing Minho away. Minho seems to like being manhandled, because for once, he doesn’t run his mouth but simply does as he’s told.

Much more gently, Chan pulls you up. “Hands and knees, baby,” he says while he brushes a stray lock of hair from your face – an oddly gentle gesture in such a sexually charged setting, but this is Chan; always showing his love, even when he’s about to dick you down together with his friend.

You obey and immediately find Minho’s considerable cock in front of your face. For a second, he touches your chin. “Open up,” he coos, and you do so, eager to get started. Your lover moans as he experiences a different sort of wet heat while you taste yourself on his dick. He seems to be catching Chan’s eye. “Do it,” he all but commands. “Fuck her good, hyung. Make her moan around my cock.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Chan snarls, but of course he can never withstand a challenge, so he kicks your feet wider apart and does as he’s told nonetheless, starting on a harsh rhythm that makes you gasp and moan around Minho’s cock within seconds. You swirl your tongue around his tip, taking as much as you can into your mouth, and although Minho keeps holding your head, he doesn’t force it, ultimately giving you the power.

Instead, he keeps spewing filth into your ears: “Damn, Y/N, you look so good like this, satisfying two cocks at once – what a good little slut you are, the best. Oh baby, you should see this, it’s so hot, maybe we should make a video next time…”

Chan’s “There will be no next time!” is met with a chuckle.

“Let’s see,” Minho quips.

So, there you are, stuck between two of the hottest men alive, being dicked down from two sides – it’s almost too much to handle. Chan’s thrusts grow more erratic, and you can feel his fingers on your clit, trying to coax a second orgasm out of you as he’s railing you hard. You gasp around Minho’s cock, drawing moans out of him.

“Yeah? Are you going to come on Chan’s cock, Y/Nnie? Are you going to come while we spitroast you? Such a good girl, making us feel so good, such a perfect mouth, such a perfect little pussy –“

Your orgasm washes over you, and you all but whimper as Chan continues with a few hard thrusts before the clenching of your muscles causes him to come as well, his growl mirroring Minho’s as he, too, reaches his high.

Chan has you in his arms in a second, pressing you against himself possessively as if he wants to cuddle Minho’s scent off you immediately. All of you are breathing heavily, lying there, Chan separating you from Minho as the other gets rid of the condom.

The younger man giggles. “Oh, come on, hyung, we all know that Y/Nnie loves only you. And that was pretty hot. So why exclude me from the cuddling party?” He presses a kiss to Chan’s shoulder, and even though you’ve just come twice, your pussy is definitely interested in the sight. Chan grumbles, but lifts a blanket to spread about all three of you.

“Whatever,” he says. “Get some sleep.”

Minho and you smile at each other across Chan. It is entirely possible that that wasn’t the last adventure for the three of you…

~part 1~ ~part 2~ ~part 3~

[oneshotnewbie]

Can I request Spencer Hasting where she is Hella protective over Reader? Maybe Reader gets attacked by A when she is alone on the way home from the gym or so and she gets hurt and she calls Spencer for help. Spencer is all mad and angry but lovingly patching up Readers bruises and cuts while telling her that she can't get alone outside now without her because she doesn't want that Reader gets hurt otherwise and more badly? They are pretty close, closer than the other girls

Spencers cell phone rang in her normal ringtone, roused her from her thoughts and made her startle for a moment. The file that she had fed with various information from A since the second it got more dangerous, fell annoyed in front of her on the wooden table while she let herself fall back on the couch, exhausted.

She looked at the ceiling and groaned while massaging the sore spots on her temples. She took a few deep breaths to calm down before she fumbled for the cell phone on the table, thinking that you had texted her that you were coming in late from your gym session.

Broken ribs and bruised lips. My anger grows and I am always close. Tell Dr. Sullivan or anyone about me and your beloved Y/N will pay the price.

- A 💋

Skipping the lines several times, the brown-haired tried to get a meaningful result from the first lines of the repulsive text before your photo popped up on her phone screen and she answered immediately.

"Spenc?" her name echoed muffled through the receiver, the pain in your voice couldn't be overheard. The scraping of the iron carabiners from your bag and the rattling of your bracelets and rings on the cold floor gave her cause of concern and she pricked up her ears. "Y/N, are you okay?"

"Not really," you said in a whisper and dared to try to lift yourself off the ground, but in vain. Instead, you cried out and Spencer was on alert, her tiredness was gone. "What happened?"

"I was attacked by A's henchmen."

As soon as the last words left your lips, her eyes opened wide in shock and her tiredness was overtaken by anger. With a skillful push off the couch, the brunette grabbed the file and jumped up the stairs to her room where she placed the papers in her safe hiding place and rushed down to grab her car keys. "Where are you?"

"I'm down the street from your house at the intersection." you panted out as you looked around, trying to stand up again.

You definitely knew that you had at least one bruised rib.

---

After Spencer found you where you let her know beforehand, she helped you into her car and drove you to her home, but only at your request. You didn't want to go to the hospital or home for your parents to ask questions about your condition and you knew the brunettes were out and about in New York.

Tenderly and with one arm around your waist to support you, she helped you into the house and gently sat you down on the couch before taking off your jacket and ordering you to lie down. "I should drive you to the hospital to be on the safe side. I can treat scratches, a bleeding lip and bruises, but I can't X-ray your rib."

While you threw yourself agonizingly on the couch with a small scream, you waved your hand negatively and she rolled her eyes. She literally bit her teeth at cement because of your stubbornness.

"It's not broken so I am not going to die, Spenc." did you joke and you could tell by her turn from the fridge and look that she didn't like it at all. "A couple of pain pills and cool packs and I will be fine."

"It could all have turned out much worse!" she shouted from the kitchen before joining you and handing you an ice pack in a kitchen towel. "Put that on your lip, stupid." You smiled thankfully and immediately pressed it onto the wound and the cool made you moan out.

While she disappeared from your sight again to get the rest utensils to mend you from the bathroom, you heard her cursing. She hated it when you got hurt and there was nothing she could do about it except watch and fix you after. This has been the case since kindergarten; if you fell of the swing, she was angry and wouldn't let you on it. If you got your heart broken, she broke the guy in different ways.

Spencer was always protective of you and always blamed herself when she wasn't around to protect you from the pain.

"Y/N? Are you still there?" you heard her drowning out your thoughts.

You hadn't noticed that she was sitting on the small table in front of you and was already starting to soak the cotton pads with disinfectant and laying out the plasters.

With a questioning and slightly worried look that she underlined with a raised eyebrow, the brunette looked you in the eyes. She was trying to figure out what you were thinking about and where you got stuck. "Everything okay? Maybe I should call Winn."

"No, I am fine. Trust me." you tried to calm her down and Spencer knew she could trust you. You were always honest with her, no matter what, so she could count on you to let her know if you were going to feel worse.

With a nod she began to wipe the already dried blood from your chin and lip with the cotton pad and you hissed when the disinfectant hit the open wound. Your teeth clenched together, you clutched at the fabric of the couch in pain. "I don't want you to go anywhere by yourself until we know who A is or how many of them are out there."

"Why? It could have happened to any of us."

"No." she sighed and wanted to change the cotton pad but you stopped her moving with a gentle grip on her wrist as you looked at her intently. She was hiding something from you.

Reluctantly, she dropped everything on the table and pulled her cell phone out of her jacket. Without a word she opened the message she got before your call and stretched the screen in front of your face.

Confused, you took her phone in your hands and read through the lines while she silently went back to patching you up. You kept going through this rhyme and you knew what was going on in Spencer at that moment; she was terrified. She underlined her anger and fear for you by screaming at you desperately, unintentionally. "Damn, you are so stubborn! Please listen to me just once, please! You are not invulnerable!"

"Spencer, calm down." you tried to calm her down, her face was already completely red. "SPENCER!"

She interrupted her panic and looked at you with wide eyes and open mouth. "I promise I won't go out without Han, Aria, Em or you anymore. But please, calm down okay? Nothing happened."

"Listen, if anything happens to you - and we're not talking about bruises or scratches - I will go berserk."

You chuckled about that sentence and looked at her. Her gaze was serious, the brunettes cheeks flushed in only a light red. She tried to swallow her anger by watching you and your movements, looking at your smile and that shine in your eyes that despite the last few years of terror wasn't gone.

You were tough, and she had to be it too.

"I am serious, I will track down A and kill that bitch when she tears off a single hair off of you."

[yan-purgatory]

yandere! ateez: you’re talking to another man

request: Yandere mafia ateez reaction to seeing you with another man and being too touchy with them?

admin: ღ

warning: contains graphic content. reader discretion is advised.

Hongjoong:

(Y/N) was sighing and swirling the remnants of red wine in their glass, enjoying their peace and quiet that came with the rare moment of solitude, when they felt someone slide beside them in the booth.

“You shouldn’t be in here. This is for VIPs only.” They warned the person quietly, worried of the consequences that could come with what this man was attempting.

“I’m so out of your league I can’t even buy you a drink?” The man pressed, slinging a hand around (Y/N)’s neck and trying to catch the eye of a waitress. 

“This is for your sake. Please get out of here, before he sees anything.” The man scoffed at their warning, the alcohol in his system trumping all fear.

His pride wasn’t to last long, as a hand snagged his collar and threw him to the ground before a foot pressed into his chest and several guns were held to his face.

“I need to have a talk to Mr Choi. Clearly he’s incomopetent at keeping my possessions safe.” The man of the hour, Hongjoong, seated himself next to (Y/N) who felt a shiver of fear run down their spine upon his arrival.

He pressed a kiss to (Y/N)’s head before turning his attention back to the offender.

“Get rid of him. But do it out of our sight. I don’t want him near my (Y/N) for another second, understood?”

Seonghwa:

“Oh, I should get going.” (Y/N) had guts of steel, to say the least. To have an affair, behind the back of an obsessive mafia leader no less and with one of his men.

“You can’t stay any longer?” Hoseok’s arms hooked around (Y/N)’s waist, pulling them back down onto the bed as they struggled to get dressed.

“Please. I can’t risk anythi-” There was a pounding of footsteps outside the door, before a strong force knocked into it and a group of men burst in.

(Y/N) heart fell to their stomach seeing the guns pointed towards Hoseok before their attention was stolen by Seonghwa striding into the room. 

“You’ve wounded me, my darling. No worries, we’ll fix this.” He pressed their face into his chest before raising his hand, silently giving the order. (Y/N) let out a scream of fear as they headr the gunshots and cry of pain.

“You don’t think I love you enough, right? That’s why you did this?” Seonghwa whispered into their ear. “Let me prove you wrong, darling.”

Yunho:

“Do you understand what you’ve done?” Tears were in (Y/N)’s eyes as the bandage applied to their finger was removed, letting the papercut bleed again. “You don’t talk to anyone else, no matter what.”

“But it was hurting, and you said that you trust Mingi-”

“You always come to me first.” Yunho interrupted them. “You know I don’t like it when you talk to other men, and I don’t care who it is.”

His grip was tightening, causing (Y/N) to wince at the pressure. Yunho ignored their pain, too red with anger. In fact, he pulled out his pocket knife with a grimace and held it up to their arm.

(Y/N) tried to struggle, but his grip was cast iron.

“You’re gonna be more hurt than before, baby. And I’ll be the one to pick up the pieces, okay?”

Yeosang:

Yeosang was waiting for them outside the lecture theatre, as always. Tapping his foot, his patience clearly having been worn thin.

It was when the clock hit quarter past four that (Y/N) finally emerged with their notes tucked under their arm.

“What took you so long?” He asked, his tone endearing but with a sharp edge.

“I’m sorry, I really need some guidance on this topic and professor Park is the expert on the topic.” (Y/N) sighed, taking his hand in their own. Yeosang didn’t smile as he usually did when (Y/N) initiated contact. His mind was plagued with the jealousy rising up - this was the third time this week they’d been late because they needed to talk with their professor.

“You seem to be struggling with this course, my love. Maybe you should drop out?” (Y/N) visibly tensed up.

“I-I-I don’t think that’s necessary-”

“You know that I’ll take care of you. Why do you need a job, when you have me?”

(Y/N) looked hesitant, but seeing the intense look in Yeosang’s eyes they knew he was not in the mood to argue, and slowly they nodded.

It was a very thankful situation that (Y/N) accepted his suggestion. His other solution to his jealousy would be much more savoury.

San:

An array of pictures were splayed out on San’s desk. Each one showing (Y/N) heinous crime of communicating with their cousin. 

“You know I don’t like sharing, baby. I thought I told you not to do this.” He growled.

“I’m sorry.” San smiled, pulling them down to sit on his lap. 

“I can forgive you, baby. Here.” He pressed a lighter into (Y/N)’s hand whilst pushing all the photos into his wastebin. His message was clear enough for them.

They flicked the lighter to life and held it to the photographs, watching as the film warped and crumpled. 

San’s grin only grew as he peppered kisses over (Y/N)’s neck.

“That’s it, baby. And you know what will happen if I see this happen again?” They nodded, fingers still gripping the lighter so tightly that the plastic was starting to crack.

“I’ll slaughter him like a pig. I’ll set him alight and you’ll have to watch him burn to death. And it’ll be all your fault. So you won’t talk to him anymore, right?

Mingi:

There was silence in the small cafe, as everyone took in the scene. The barista, a bullet lodged in his head and blood leaking out from the wound. And Mingi, standing over the poor man with the smoking pistol still in his hand.

“Do you have their order?” His attention was diverted to the other barista, who had a coffee cup clutched in her hands that were trembling so badly the liquid was starting to spill onto her hands.

“Y-y-yes sir.” She placed it down into front of the shell-shocked (Y/N). They’d known that Mingi has savoury reactions to them talking to other men, but this was a whole other level.

“Good. We’re leaving.” Mingi snatched (Y/N)’s hand up in a huff. “I hope this coffee was worth more than that vermin’s life to you.”

He turned to address the rest of the witnesses.

“If anyone squeals, you’ll be next.”

Wooyoung:

“A beautiful angel like yourself shouldn’t be all alone in such a scary place.” A deep voice shocked (Y/N) out of their daze. Wooyoung had gone off to speak with one of his partners in private, unintentionally leaving (Y/N) all alone.

“Oh! I’m with Jung Woo Young.”

The stranger frowned, stepping closer and taking ahold of their face to admire it.

“And how did he secure such a treasure?”

“I’d appreciate it if you stepped away from my spouse, Mr Kim.” Wooyoung had returned and instantly attached himself to (Y/N)’s side. “Unless you want to be dragged away, that is.”

His eyes flickered to (Y/N).

“I’m sorry I was gone for so long, but I was thinking about you for every second of it.” 

Wooyoung pressed his lips to (Y/N)’s hungrily, his gaze sliding over to stare down the other man triumphantly as he deepened it.

As soon as he broke away, he moved to whisper in (Y/N)’s ear.

“I’m not leaving your side again for even a second, baby. No one else can claim what is mine, right?”

Jongho:

(Y/N) rarely got to see family, not with Jongho breathing down their neck nearly every day of the week. Luckily, he was occupied for the day and (Y/N) had seemingly escaped the watchful gaze of his right hand man, enabling them to visit their brother for the first time in months. 

All they did was take a walk in the nearby park, chatting about how life was going although (Y/N) tactfully chose to leave Jongho out of all conversations. Finally they gave their brother a hug as they said goodbye, the first time they’d done that with a man who wasn’t Jongho for goodness knows how long.

They decided to take a detour before returning home, hoping that if they had been caught sneaking out by Jongho they would have a valid excuse of buying some chocolate. But it wasn’t enough.

(Y/N) returned home, only to find the door unlocked. They let out a breath, rehearsing their lines in their head. ‘I just wanted a snack, I’m sorry.’

They found him in the kitchen. Stood above the brother they’d seen only an hour ago, tied to a chair and missing a few of his fingers.

“You thought you could pull the wool over my eyes?” Jongho growled. “You know damn well what happens to anyone who touches you without my permission.”

[anystalker707]

Hair tugging

Pairing: Frank x [nb, afab] Reader Word count: ~ 2 800 Genre: Fluff / Smut / Comfort Summary: (Y/n) accidentally finds out how hair tugging has an effect on Frank. Kind of content: Riding / Oral / Mast*rbation / Hair tugging

Requested by @angie-migel

“Oh, damn,” I sigh, relieved at finally arriving home after spending almost two hours in the supermarket doing the groceries – the mall seemed extra busy today, but I’m not surprised considering it’s the beginning of the month.

Frank is sitting at the kitchen table when I walk in, humming to himself quietly. The notebook resting in front of him gets his full attention, hence it takes a moment for him to actually acknowledge my presence and look up, which only happens after I greet him.

“Hey, Frank, what are you doing?” I raise an eyebrow, placing the bags down on the counter.

“Oh, hi,” he mumbles, glancing down at his notebook. “I– Um, it’s nothing!”

“Nothing?” I hum, eyeing him up and down. He’s got a bit too much attention on it just for it to be nothing or something completely trivial. “C’mon.” I approach him from behind, catching a glimpse of messy writing. “Show me!”

“No!” He pouts and closes the notebook, looking away.

“Aw, honey,” I insist, mostly for teasing Frank rather than seeing what he got there because I won’t see it if he doesn’t want me to. My hand slips into his hair, running my fingers through it lightly before I grab a bit of hair on the back of his head to make him look at me; we were watching a movie in which a guy did that to his partner and Frank was staring at the scene a bit too much. “Why?”

Instead of another whine or complaint, what actually sounds like a moan escapes Frank’s lips, compelling me to pause, but he doesn’t let me question anything. Frank is leaving the kitchen with red cheeks before I can notice.

“Sorry,” he calls, probably going upstairs.

“No, Frankie, it’s okay!” I nod to myself, thinking. “It really is.”

A sigh comes from him and that’s it. Alright, then.

Frank never touches the subject again, so I don’t do it either and the event is easily buried in the back of my mind through the time. Well, at least until we’re urgently getting rid of our clothes to tackle each other to the bed to continue our making out session. He moans into my mouth as I move to get on top of him, my thigh pressing against his cock in the process.

“Mm, (y/n),” he mumbles, looking at me through half lidded eyes, eventually moaning once I start pressing kisses down his neck, making sure to work especially hard on a specific spot as my hands run down his chest – it rises in a gasp with my thumbs grazing across his nipples for a moment. “Fuck, please, let’s fuck already,” he groans, ironically wrapping his arms around my shoulders.

“You barely let me enjoy you,” I whine and bring myself up, bottom lip sticking out.

A bright red tone takes over Frank’s cheeks and his eyes avert away before he’s looking at me with a pout too and furrowing his eyebrows. “Don’t act like you teased me for like forever when pegging me on Monday, okay? I could barely move during it all, in the first place! That was enough enjoying me!”

I can’t help but to chuckle, grinning wide. “You liked it, though!”

“That’s not the point!” He rolls his eyes. “But please?” He smiles, batting his eyelashes as he places his hands on my thighs, rubbing them affectionately.

“Yeah, alright.” I nod because it’s not like I don’t need some relief, too – all the grinding from earlier only shows its results now –, so I peck his lips before getting off him. “Sit against the headboard, let me ride you, hm?”

“Good.” Frank nods and sighs softly, sitting up to drag himself back, adjusting the pillows against the headboard so he can rest against them and taps his thighs invitingly once he’s comfortable enough.

The mattress sinks softly under my knees as I make my way to Frank – he looks up at me with wide eyes, smiling lightly, then I’m locking our lips in yet another kiss. It’s messy, which doesn’t make it any less good. I can’t help but to sigh softly at feeling his hands on my waist, squeezing the skin down to my thighs then coming up again. His grip falters, however, when I’m reaching a hand down to give him a few pumps; he moans softly, growing louder once I position him against my entrance and start to sink down slowly.

I hum quietly against his lips among soft kisses I press to it, breathing shakily at the pleasing, light burning feeling of being stretched around him, now gripping at his shoulders instead.

Silence fills the room for a moment before I can start moving my hips and there it is again, the sound of labored breaths among pleased sounds, now summed up with skin against skin.

My hips move a bit clumsily at first, experimentally, eventually gaining a pace after I find a comfortable angle. Frank lets out a low moan, grip now tight around my hips as he starts pressing kisses to my chest, sometimes looking up at me while running his tongue across the skin and fuck, I can’t handle him.

“Oh, fuck you!” My fingers sink into Frank’s shoulders as I move my hips faster, only pausing to roll them and a gasp immediately escapes my lips with the pleasure sent ringing up my spine, compelling me to repeat the motion one more time and I’m not the only one to moan out now.

Frank wraps his arms around my waist to hold me close, head pressed to my chest. “(Y/n), you feel so good, (y/n),” he babbles softly.

I press a kiss to Frank’s head, a quick one among the heavy breaths escaping my lips. His hair already started to glue to his forehead with sweat, so I pull the strands away from his face in order to see him and he seems in some sort of daze. A smile forms itself on my lips and, running my fingers through his hair, I remember about the last time I was doing this same thing.

Just like I did in the kitchen that day, I take a hold of the hair on the back of his neck, tugging on it to make him look up at me. Frank gasps in the same moment, mouth falling open and eyes wide, but he never says the safeword or pulls me away, only having his moans grow higher pitched, eventually muffled after I press my lips to his. Not only moans, but also fucking whines come from Frank and I can feel him fucking twitch inside me, so I start moving faster, pulling our lips apart but still having our foreheads pressed together in a way I can watch him.

“I-I– (Y/–(Y/n)!” Frank suddenly lets out a loud moan, arching his back, and I can only process what’s happening once I feel him coming, filling me up. Well, that was unexpected. And fast. But it’s not a bad thing, not at all.

I curse under my breath, continuing to move to ride him down from his high, and pull away before driving him into oversensitivity, taking a seat on his thighs.

“Oh, fuck, (y/n)!” Frank mumbles, hesitantly letting go of his embrace around me. “I-I’m so sorry, damn,” he swallows, looking everywhere but at me. “I didn’t– I didn’t mean to–” He furrows his eyebrows, whining softly, but there’s no pleasure in it this time.

“Hey, Frankie, baby, it’s okay! Don’t worry!” I pull him for a hug and press a kiss to his head; he hums, hugging me back and burying his face in the crook of my neck. He inhales deeply a few times until his breath is evening out, but he still clutches onto me tightly. “Tell me, what’s it? Do you like it when I pull your hair?” I ask softly, absentmindedly drawing patterns on his back.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, voice muffled. “I– It just feels so good! And it’s been so long since the last time someone did it to me!”

“Why didn’t you tell me about it before, baby?” I press a soft kiss to his neck. “I could’ve done it before.”

Frank gulps audibly and slowly relaxes a bit into my embrace. “I was afraid you wouldn’t like it,” he says quietly, “and it’s also weird– Why the hell would I feel good just because someone is tugging on my hair, like–” he groans in frustration.

“Of course not, Frankie!” I pull away lightly, just enough to take his face in my hands, though his eyes continue down. “You know I’d never shame you for anything and we can always talk things out.”

“And, fuck, I’m sorry, it was so fast this time!” He furrows his eyebrows, threatening to hide his face again, which I don’t let him do.

“Aw, but it’s alright!” I peck his lips. “I was tugging on your hair and it had been a long time, it’s completely alright and normal.” I brush my nose against his affectionately – he hums with a brief nod, eyes now on my lips, so I give him a few long kisses.

“Thank you,” he breathes.

“You don’t need to thank me, hun.” I smile, caressing his cheek. “It’s just normal. Also, don’t worry about that having been fast or whatever, it’s not like we can’t do it again.” I press our lips together again, this time taking his bottom lip between my teeth to nibble down on it lightly – he sighs and kisses back, humming against my lips as he moves until I’m lying down on my back.

Frank’s lips leave mine, starting to press kisses down my neck then down my torso, sometimes pausing to suck a mark somewhere. I gasp softly when I feel him nibbling down on my hip and finally catch on what he’s going to do once he’s pulling my thighs apart.

“Frank,” I mumble, bringing myself up to my elbows in order to watch him. He looks up at me from under his eyelashes and hair strands – so fucking hot – right as his tongue slips past my folds and I gasp softly at the feeling, soon moaning at feeling his tongue flicking against my clit and I end up just dropping to the bed again.

No time is wasted as Frank holds tightly onto my hips and just starts fucking eating me out and damn it, best feeling ever. I can barely hold myself back from pushing my hips up to meet his lips, which leads to him gripping tighter onto me, but controlling myself really feels like a fucking hard task once he’s sucking onto my clit and bringing a finger to tease my entrance – I clutch tightly onto the sheets, unable to hold back any sound.

“Oh– Hell, Frank, please,” I moan out and bring an arm up, resting my forearm across my face while bringing my free hand to Frank’s hair to pull him closer and buck my hips up in the moment he moans against me, the vibrations echoing directly against my clit.

Cold air replaces Frank uncomfortably for a moment, but it doesn’t take long until he’s there again, tongue now working on tracing my entrance then slipping in whilst his thumb is pressed to my clit – not moving, not doing anything, just feeling it pulsating under his finger and I don’t know whether I hate or love him and don’t want to decide now because there’s a lot going on and I can already feel the familiar pleasure pooling down in my lower stomach dangerously fast.

“Frank, Frankie!” I breathe, grip tightening around his hair. “I’m gonna fucking cum–” I can barely say it before I’m finally coming, gasping as I bring my other hand to also hold onto him while my back arches, almost bringing myself off the mattress a little bit, but it’s so fucking good and feels like it lasts forever. It doesn’t though, as feeling Frank’s rough tongue against my swollen clit quickly starts making my legs twitch with each motion. I exhale heavily as I let go of him and can’t help but to grin lightly at his proud face once he pulls himself up. “That was so good,” I mumble, reaching for him.

“I’m glad!” He smiles wide and stupidly, lips and chin all wet, and moves closer to hug me and rest his head on my chest.

I hug Frank tightly before I exchange our positions and press soft kisses all over his face, easily having him melting under me, sighing softly as I run my hands up and down his sides, and let a hand slip between his legs to take a hold of his half hard cock. He hums softly as I give it a few pumps, feeling it harden at the same time he moans, but groans in protest once I pull away.

“Sit up for me, hm?” I give the inside of his thigh a light slap.

Frank sighs softly as he sits up and I pull him to sit between my legs with his back pressed to my chest. He looks back at me questioningly, but relaxes slowly against me, leaning his head to the side with the few kisses I press to his neck.

“Now,” I mutter into his ear, “why don’t you touch yourself for me to watch, hm? Just like you do when I’m not home and you’re fucking needy.” I nuzzle the back of his neck and he whines quietly, without any discomfort this time. I take his hand and spit on it – Frank looks at it with wide eyes for a solid minute, only bringing his hand down to himself after I nudge him lightly.

Frank wraps his hand around his cock with a muffled moan, moving his hand up and down in slow movements, still tense. I press soft kisses to his neck, letting my hands rest on his waist before trailing them up his torso and I can notice him tensing up when I reach his chest, pressing him closer to me and nibbling down on a spot below his ear.

“Is it how you do it, love?” My lips linger against the shell of his ear and the position is such a damn blessing because I can feel every movement of his, whenever a breath hitches or he tenses up due to stroking a specific spot on his cock. “Sometimes I imagine you sitting on the couch, not even bothering to head somewhere else since you got so fucking needy, but I won’t be home for a long time. Do you hump the couch? Wishing maybe I was there to help you?”

A moan slips past Frank’s lips, small and pathetic, as his hand picks up a faster pace and he brings his free hand to suck on his fingers, muffling the moans momentarily.

“Or you probably imagine I’m the one touching you instead, of course,” I hum, pressing kisses down his shoulder and tugging his head back by a handful of hair. “Jerking you off and stretching you pretty good, right? Do you call my name when you do it?” I ask quietly, making sure he’s listening to all of it even with all the loud moans coming from him despite the clear attempts to muffle them, even more after he’s slipping a finger inside himself. “In that desperate, whiny voice.”

Frank whines again, louder and higher pitched this time and I look down to see him sinking his thumb down into his slit then tracing the head before pumping his hand again, heavily, having the wet sounds fill the room under the moaning that grows louder with a second finger.

“Do your fingers feel as good as mine?” I mouth along his jaw, running a hand across his chest then bring it down, having my thumb run across his nipple, which is already perked up. “I don’t think so. Only I can do it properly, right, hun? Only I know where and how to touch and that’s why sometimes you want me to just finger you so bad and you get so hopeless with it.”

A loud moan cuts through the thick atmosphere of the room and Frank’s fucking coming, arching his back against me and pushing his hips into his own touch.

“O-Oh fuck,” Frank breathes, eyes pressed shut and hand still working on himself then he’s relaxing against me, breathing shallowy, legs twitching. “Wow,” he swallows, looking at the nothing for a long moment before he’s blinking and his eyes meet mine – I smile at him and lock our lips in a kiss, sweetly.

“How was that?” I ask, running my fingers through his hair whilst holding him close.

“Awesome!” He raises his eyebrows lightly, sighing – I chuckle softly and press a kiss to his cheek. “Also, what I was doing in the kitchen the other day– I was writing a song about you!” he says shyly.

“Aw, true?” I hug him tightly. “Oh my, I’m so lucky!” I grin as he giggles, managing to hug me back.

[warmau]

☆ [nostalgic] summer romance!au kun it’s late ...... but happy birthday leader kun ~ find others here: johnny | haechan | taeil | taeyong | mark | jaemin | yangyang | yuta | sicheng | chenle

there’s a sharp knock on the glass of your window 

you stare up at the ceiling and don’t move an inch from the comfort of your bed until the knock comes again. and again.

with a groan you roll off your sheets and compose yourself before walking over and pushing your curtains aside

on the other side of the window is kun

standing god knows how on the side of the second story of your house and you cross your arms

he motions for you to open the window and you shake your head

he rolls his eyes and somehow the little gesture ticks you off to no end

who does he think he is? always being so rude, even when he needs me to do something for him!

he motions again and you try not to look at the strong line of his arms - he’s wearing a sleeveless tank and jeans which really? how athletic is he climbing in those thing-

you sneer but you give in, undoing the latch and pushing open the window

stepping back, kun climbs through without a hitch and once he’s standing on the carpet of your bedroom you look up and start

“i was about to go to sleep what are you doing her-”

“where’s your cousin?”

he doesn’t even look at you.

in fact, he looks over your shoulder at your door that’s closed

“he said to meet him before we both sneak out, but that dumbass could have just met me at the party himself.”

you uncross your arms and instead curl your fingers into fists at your side

“so why didn’t you sneak through the guestroom window asshole -”

“don’t know which window is the guest room. i just knew this one was yours because of the childish curtains.”

he gets under your nerves. he really does. he has since you meet him as the naïve new kid at your towns middle school

and he - he was the ever so perfect at everything upperclassman. 

that hadn’t changed much now - as you got older you came to understand that kun could do no wrong in the eyes of everyone BUT you

your parents thought he was the shining example of a young man, your friends all wanted to date him, and now even your cousin who was staying with you for the summer was impressed with him.

they’d met at the party you had thrown to welcome your cousin and how kun even got there - you don’t know - but he’d shown up with sicheng and ten 

and then was talking to your cousin and everyone and making you irritated the entire night ....... and yet ............ here he was now 

sneaking out with YOUR cousin to go to another party. who’s party? you didn’t know - your own damn cousin had invited KUN and not YOU

you don’t want to bite your tongue anymore - you want to start mouthing off on him just like he thinks he has the right to do with you 

but if you raise your voice, you’ll wake your parents and you have the sinking feeling that if they walked in on this scene 

they might not be as angry about it as other parents would be......you cringe, thinking about how your mother had once inquired you if kun and you were considering being more than friends.

you look up at him now. more than friends? he’s going to be my enemy till i die.

you think your worry comes to life when your door opens and you turn so fast in fear of seeing your parents actually standing there, but it is just your cousin

who grins at kun and pushes past you like you’re a ghost in your own room

“ready to go dude?” he asks and kun suddenly takes this moment of all to look at you 

he makes a noise of agreement, but he keeps his line of vision on you. it makes something crawl up your skin. creep, don’t look at me like that! 

it only lasts a split second, before both boys are using your window to sneak out into the sticky summer night and you’re rushing over to shut it. 

before you do - you watch them disappear out of the backyard - two figures in the moon. 

you huff, reaching for your curtains and you don’t notice kun look back.

this keeps happening. 

sometimes kun does come sneaking back through your window (he says he can’t get the guest room one where your cousin is - there’s nothing for him to climb up on that side of the house) but rather than just that

kun just keeps appearing around you

he’s at the same parties, he’s at the same park, he’s at the same beach. the town has never felt smaller and your cousin is the reason for it all. he drags kun everywhere - like they’re the bestest of friends.

they’ve known each other for like two or something weeks.....can’t they find other people to hangout with! maybe i should just stay in my room from now on-

you turn off the shower and try to erase the thought from your head. you wrap a towel around yourself and scurry down the hall back to your room where you shut the door and sigh.

he annoys me so much that my brain can’t help thinking about him when it should just be trying to throw him out of my he-

your shoulders tense when you hear a familiar sound at the window. 

no fucking way

the curtains are drawn back now and through the glass you see the familiar outline of kun’s figure

you stomp over - you’ve been boiling over his constant presence and you think fine, he wants to come into your room, you wont let him until he hears what you really think

so you yank the window up, but not enough for him to climb through

“hey i can-”

“kun, i know everyone thinks your gods gift to this earth but what would they think of you trying to sneak into my room through the goddamn window at midnight? huh? can’t spend your summer doing something better than bothering me? that’s what the prince of this little town does - peep through wind-”

in the heat of the moment you throw your hands up to the glass of the window and the towel ....... drops

you probably wouldn’t have even noticed - how wound up you’ve gotten - but kun 

kun nearly falls straight off the side of your house and you can see the panic reflected in his eyes flash so you yank the window up and instead of letting him fall backwards

you pull him in and ontop of you

the two of you topple over onto your carpet - the thudding sound resounds and kun catches himself on his arms so his weight doesn’t crush you

you stare up - that flash of panic is still in kun’s eyes and for a second you try to figure out why when you feel the summer air gust through and all over your exposed skin

you scream, because what else can you do, and kun pushes himself off you

you reach for the towel pooled beside you and wrap yourself back up - getting to your feet with wobbly horror and staring at kun who is sitting back with that expression stil on his face

it doesn’t last long though because you hear someone pull at your doorknob - your mothers voice coming from the otherside

kun falls back and rolls himself under your bedframe - just in time for the door to open and your mother to rush in with worry laced in her voice

“what happened?”

qian kun just saw me naked!

“i- i though-i thought i saw something in the window im fine, really!”

your mother pries but you push her back toward the door gently, assuring her that it was probably an owl or a racoon in a tree. really. 

she touches your shoulder and says to call her if you need anything. you close the door again and listen to her footsteps down the stairs.

you breath in and turn around - kun has gotten out from under the bed and is now standing at the corner of your bed looking more lost than you’ve ever seen him in your life

no snarky remarks, no stupid smug look on his face 

you feel angry. you still feel all pissed off from before, but now there’s something else coursing through you. 

shame.

“get out”

you grit your teeth. 

“i - i would never-”

“get out kun, seriously.”

he stumbles, no confidence and no superiority, just an almost wounded like stride as he reaches for the window again.

he looks over his shoulder and you brace yourself - with him, he could look sad all he wants but you know deep down he could say something so cruel right about now-

“im sorry.”

you clutch the towel 

sorry for what? for being better than me at everything? for having to see me at my most vulnerable when all i ever see you at is your best?

you think - or at least you assume you think this - you don’t realize you’ve said it out loud

kun stops and swallows, “im not the best at anything. im a horrible liar you know.”

“what?”

the towel should be soft, but it feels heavy, like a lifeline you’re gripping but that just gets harder and harder to keep close

kun pushes his lower body through the window and then looks at you one final time

“im a horrible liar. the reasons i even- the reason im always around you isn’t because of your cousin. it’s because i want to be near-”

you don’t hear the last word because he disappears right after that, you stand in the corner of your room, he wants to be near what? 

you look at the shut door, the mirror hanging on the back of it, and your reflection

did he say he wants to be near me?

you don’t really go anywhere for a couple of days after that. 

your cousin is always out, but you don’t even want to go see your friends. you just know that that will risk seeing-

something knocks against your window and you look over, a new feeling swelling in your chest that isn’t like that dread you’ve felt before

but instead of kun’s figure - you just see the raindrops that are accumulating on the glass

a heavy summer storm brews up outside and you think it’s ironic. your brain feels like it is going through a tornado of its own. 

you walk toward it and think it would be nice to feel the rain though - to touch something outside of room and when you open it you do see something

you see someone in the backyard

“kun?”

you’re rushing out on the grass - barefoot and wrapping your arms around yourself in the wind of the rain

“kun why are you here - my cou-”

“im here to see you.”

you don’t understand - and then a strong chill that doesn’t come from the storm runs up your spine - he’s here to make fun of me isn’t he? mock me?

“listen, i don’t want to hear it from you of all people - you saw me naked for a second and you have no right-”

“its you. im always here to see you. do you understand?”

he’s talking over me - like usual - but why is his tone-

“excuse me? understand wh-”

the rain gets heavier and you cannot believe you’re about to do this but you’re getting soaked and so is kun and so you point to your window

“meet me up there.”

you don’t know why you invite him. you expect the worst and you expect to get hurt and made fun of it. but you do it anyway. 

part of you is saying it’s because you want to pick a fight - but another part, quieter and that’s been dormant for a while says no, it’s because you might think you hate kun but you aren’t going to let him stand out in the rain any longer.

you wish you could tell this part to shut up and go away, but you give into it every time. especially, it seems, when it comes to him of all people.

kun looks displaced again in your room - he usually sneaks through and acts like he owns the place - but this time he’s back to this awkward atmosphere

you feel sick thinking about how you kind of wish you had the other side of him back

“so why are you here kun, really. it’s embarrassing enough for me that you saw me-”

“im sick of lying.” 

you blink, looking at him more seriously

“lying?”

“your cousin is fun and all, but cmon - you said it yourself. everyone expects the best of me, why would i spend my summer partying around the town. do you think i like it?”

speechless you don’t say anything in response and kun continues

“it’s just, finally i had an excuse good enough to be around you. to sneak up through your window, to hangout with the people you are friends with, to see you. otherwise - i never get a chance to-”

he looks different tonight, maybe because he’s drenched with rain, but he looks more like the kun you’ve known for years

put together, serious, he even has his glasses on tonight which shocks you more than anything because ever since the summer started - ever since he’s been around your cousin - he seems to have ditched them

you think slowly the pieces are coming together in your head about what point kun is making

it creeps in and you think shock is going to overcome you when kun confesses - with none of that bravado he seems to have adapted - 

“i just know you hate me and without a good reason you would never let me near you so i - i just did the one thing that meant i could be close to you, because i dont hate you, i really like-”

you take a couple of steps toward him, closing your fingers around his face and you hear kun’s breath hitch up 

you pull him down and toward you and just as you’re about to brush your lips against his - you instead pull him into a tight hug

you bury your face in his chest. his hands stuck stiff at his sides

“im not going to kiss you until you promise me one thing kun”

you can feel his heartbeat and yours, both rushing - louder than the thunder outside

“wh-what?”

“if we do this - whatever this will be - you have to promise you’ll still hangout with my cousin. he really thinks you guys are best friends.”

after a bit of a pause you feel his chest rumble with laughter

which you take offense to as you pull out of his arms - “hey don’t laugh! im being seri-”

“this is why i want to be near you by the way.”

he looks at you and for the first time it isn’t cold or accompanied by a sneer, the warmth in the deep browns almost makes you coy

“the guy you’re enemies with tells you they like you and you go ‘whatever, just keep being nice to my cousin’.”

you cross your arms, “family before boyfriends.”

kun cocks an eyebrow, “boyfriend? you move fast.”

“qian kun you’ve seen me naked. you better be ready for commitment.”

he loops his hands around your waist and you yelp a little at the sound contact - hugging and all is one but now he is pushing you up and against him

“im ready for anything if it means i can see you naked again.”

after that - everything shifts

naturally it does, you do start dating the guy you swore you’d hate till you died but that’s not the only thing

you are also dating the most sought after guy in your town and while most of the other people your age go green with envy - your parents and cousin (surprisingly) are over the moon

your parents you get, but you thought your cousin would hate the idea - when infact he confesses that he’s happy you like kun now - you all three can hangout easier for the rest of his summer here!

you’re all having dinner one time and your mother asks what made you finally realize you liked kun

you fluster, and kun quips that he just had to sneak through your window a couple of times to end up sneaking into your heart

your parents laugh - oh qian kun would never sneak through a window, only bad boys do that!

you almost choke on your peas

you won’t lie - you have insecurities and worries in the beginning, kun could still be pulling a fast one on you. or maybe you two just will never get over the competition between each other.

but that all proves null, you and him can be sarcastic and joke around all you want it doesn’t stop the feelings that grow tenfold through the summer 

that feeling that when you are with him, there isn’t anyone else around 

and kun really is the best at everything (you don’t say it out loud though)

but he does have the looks, the brains, the popularity and boy does he know what he’s doing with those hands of his 

safe to say that he might have seen you naked first but you definitely saw him as well

you joke about it and your cousin is like ok. nevermind. this relationship between yall is GROSS jkjk

and then - like all things, summer ends, and your cousin is back off to his hometown 

and when you’re saying goodbye - he goes up to you and leans in to whisper something so no one else hears

“that’s not going to happen!”

you exclaim when he leans out, but he just shrugs and says “just promise you will.”

so you do promise. 

when you comeback to join kun he asks what the promise was about and you roll your eyes, muttering that it’s unrealistic so it doesn’t matter.

the only issue is - it is very realistic

because ten years later you are sending out invitations to you and kun’s wedding

he’s sitting at the dinner table beside you and watching you handwrite the notes, cutely testing out your cursive 

he teases your mistakes and you swat at him, he leans down to kiss the side of your cheek when he looks at the invitation in your hand

it’s addressed to your cousin and kun reads it out loud: 

“hey cousin, im keeping my promise from the past - the promise that id invite you to me and kun’s wedding.”

kun looks at you and you can’t believe the look makes you blush - even as a damn adult

kun keeps reading;

“and the other promise - that ill dance with you right after i dance with kun.”

kun chuckles, “you might not keep that one - because im not letting anyone else dance with after me. you’ll be mine that night.”

you scrunch up your nose, “dummy - ill be yours forever.” 

[kiki-shortsnout]

May I request frostiron Mpreg as a prompt? Thank you! 💜

Hey everyone! A few of you have asked if I'm still doing prompts. The answer is yes, but it does take me a while to write them, I do have a day job and restrictions on my time, plus I'm also working on my IronStrange Bigbang, so please be assured I will get to them all eventually, it will just take time! ❤️

Warnings for below: This is Alpha/Omega and contains Mpreg, just so everyone is aware! Also as it's me.....it's also much longer than I initially thought........

***

‘Sleepy,’ Tony groaned, flopping onto the couch and shoving his head in Loki’s lap. Weakly, he lifted his arms, attempting to bat Loki’s book away and have his full attention.

‘Tired, little Omega?’ Loki teased, his voice low as he closed his book and placed it down on the armrest. If anyone else had called him that, Tony would’ve torn a strip out of their hide, unleashing a verbal smackdown so powerful that it made even the toughest Alphas quake. As it was Loki, Tony accepted the words for what they were, a form of sarcastic affection.

Fingers tangled in his hair, and Tony all but purred at the attention, stretching his limbs out and melting into the couch beneath him, feeling safe in Loki’s hold.

Whatever this was between them, it was good. Loki had respected his boundaries ever since Tony had created the foundations of this…relationship. The Alpha had returned to Earth after his trial on Asgard, remorseful over his actions regarding the Battle of New York, but not quite able to apologize properly for it. The Avengers and SHIELD regarded him with hostility, despite knowing he had been held captive to a brainwashing scepter, waiting for the inevitable betrayal, but Tony had seen something different.

He had recognized something of himself in Loki. Tony knew how close he’d skirted the line of becoming a villain, how his choices in life could’ve been very different. He’d been drawn away from crossing that line many times by Pepper and Rhodey, but Loki didn’t have friends, struggled under different obligations, with only his mother believing he could be more.

Tony understood that all too well, a father that always saw reason to fault you, who always saw the worst in you, and a mother who believed in you.

Loki was one of the few Alphas who respected Tony for who he was, who seemed to enjoy the challenges and verbal sparring they had. He didn’t know if that was because of his Jotun heritage, or how Alphas were brought up on Asgard, but Tony had a sneaky feeling that secondary genders didn’t matter to someone who was neither Asgardian nor a Frost Giant, someone who was a bit of both, but not really either.

Just like Tony who had been raised to suppress his Omega characteristics, to overlap them with Alpha traits and now he was a paradox that didn’t fit into either category.

Like this now though, with Loki stroking through his hair, gazing down at him with fondness, Tony inhibited the sweet Omega form, happy to be close to an Alpha, breathing in his scent, the cold bite of snow that reminded Tony of cozy nights with his mother. They weren’t together, even if Tony had allowed Loki to share his heat a few months ago, one of the rare Alphas Tony had trusted to see him vulnerable in such a way.

‘Your scent…it’s different than usual,’ Loki said, his tone cautious.

This was one of the things Tony adored about Loki, his unwillingness to push him for more, understanding that he was terrified at the prospect of being bonded to an Alpha. He hadn’t morphed into an overbearing monster or become territorial after Tony’s heat, he still checked in and made sure he was comfortable.

Loki was the one Alpha he could see himself becoming bonded to, which made whatever they were doing bittersweet as Loki had also expressed concerns about not wanting to be ‘beholden to an Omega’s whims’ as he’d put it. It was beyond ironic, the one Alpha Tony trusted, the one he would consider for a mate held the same ideals about mating as he did.

Tony wasn’t going to dwell on it, he had a good, no strings attached thing here and he wasn’t going to ruin it.

‘Hmm? I haven’t been feeling well. Pepper says it’s stress, as if I haven’t been stressed every day of my life,’ Tony scoffed, lifting his head for more attention.

‘Do you…would you,’ Loki amended, ‘like my assistance with anything? I know I’m not always understanding of what it is you do but-’

‘Thanks, Lokes, but I’m alright honestly. It’s just board members giving me a rough time that’s all, things will ease off soon,’ Tony told him, opening his eyes and looking up into concerned ones. Loki couldn’t help his Alpha instincts, wanting to care and protect those he cared about, heightened by the fact they had shared a heat and a rut together.

Tony lifted his hand, cradling the side of Loki’s face, both in reassurance and so Loki could bend his head down and breathe in his scent from the gland in his wrist, grounding him. Lips dropped a delicate kiss over the gland, and as green eyes opened, Tony felt a lurch in the pit in his stomach and an irrational rage towards his past self.

Why did I put those boundaries in?

***

Tony ground his forehead into the cool desk, chafing the skin, his blinding headache doing nothing to drown out the words of the doctor ringing in his ears.

What was he going to do?

‘Boss, I think you need to take a break, this can’t be good for you, or the-’

‘Don’t, just don’t,’ Tony snapped, feeling his shoulders hunch, his teeth baring in a snarl. His arms came up to cover his head, protecting him from everything and anything. He needed Pepper, or Rhodey, he needed someone to tell him this was going to be okay, to go through his options.

‘Boss, Loki is requesting a visit,’ FRIDAY told him, making his stress levels skyrocket, his heartbeat increasing to match.

‘Tell him I’m busy.’ Tony jerked his head up, looking around the room. Loki wouldn’t teleport in here, that had been one of Tony’s very first rules, no invading his workshop unless invited. Pepper and Rhodey ignored it, but Loki abided by the rule, as did most of the Avengers.

‘I did. However, he has expressed concern regarding the changes in your behavior, the length of time between your last visit, and I really think-’

‘Alright!’ Tony held a hand up to stop her in her tirade, scrubbing his hands through his hair, thinking quickly. He couldn’t do this, he wanted space to think, to plan. It had been days since he’d gotten the news of his condition, and he’d come straight here, needing to work.

‘Let him in,’ Tony said, ‘and I’m sorry, for my shitty attitude, I’m just-’

‘Understandable Boss. No matter what your decision is, I will support you in any way I am able.’

‘I know, honey, thank you,’ Tony breathed out, trying not to cry, knowing Loki would be able to smell it.

‘Are you well, Anthony? It has been longer than normal since the last time I have seen you and I know the idiots you call teammates share my concern,’ Loki asked, stepping forward with narrowed eyes, trying to scent the air without being obvious about it.

‘Yeah, yeah, I’m fine Loki, just been distracted with something,’ Tony told him, gesturing with his hand at the schematics in the holographic display behind him.

‘You’re distressed,’ Loki informed him.

‘Damn Alpha nose,’ Tony hissed, turning in his chair to look back at his holograms.

‘It has nothing to do with your scent,’ Loki told him, turning his chair back the other way and bending down so they were eye level. ‘What is wrong, darling?’ he asked, reaching up to stroke his thumb over Tony’s eyebrow, trailing down to circle around his eye. ‘You are close to weeping.’

‘I can’t fix the suit,’ Tony answered. It wasn’t a lie, not really.

Loki’s gaze flickered up, taking in Tony’s designs. ‘Is there a weakness in the stomach plating? You’re focusing much of your calculations on that area,’ he asked.

‘It’s the most vulnerable area,’ Tony answered, subconsciously resting his hands over his stomach and then quickly moving them down to his thighs, gripping his jeans.

‘Anthony, your armor is impenetrable, I would know,’ Loki tried to change the tone of their conversation, making a lighthearted jab about their fight months ago.

Tony looked up at the schematics, knowing that no matter the tinkering, the redesigning of the suit, nothing he did would protect the life growing inside him. It was too dangerous, the number of times he got flung across the battlefield, the energy beams, the alien technology, the stress on his body.

He couldn’t be Iron Man anymore. Not like this.

‘Anthony, you need to breathe, listen to me,’ Loki’s voice faded in and out. Nails suddenly tightened on his knees giving him a focus point, his lungs suddenly remembering how to inhale air. ‘That’s it, one breath in, hold it, now release,’ Loki instructed, his scent wrapping around him, forming a protective bubble amidst all the panic, holding him steady.

If I can’t be Iron Man, if I can’t be an Avenger, then what am I? What use am I?

‘Anthony…Tony, darling, you need to breathe. You are safe, I will protect you from everything,’ Loki swore, his gaze turning brittle as he watched him, his lips drawing back from his teeth as he readied himself for battle.

‘I can’t do this,’ Tony blurted, feeling his shoulders beginning to shake.

‘Anthony, you are the strongest Ome…the strongest person I know. There is nothing you cannot do. Know that I will stand beside you, fighting your demons alongside you, you are not alone.’

Beside you. Not for you. Even now with his instincts going haywire, Loki’s scent curdling in the air, becoming so sour with his rage, he was still respecting Tony’s wishes.

Tony flung his arms around Loki’s neck, clutching him close, burrowing his head into his unbroken bonding gland, even as his nose wrinkled against the foul odor, the aroma thick on his tongue, choking him. Loki held him close, rubbing his jaw the best he could over his head, scenting him in a rare act of claiming, warning others away that Tony usually would’ve balked at.

Instead, he tried to get closer, sending Loki to his ass on the floor as he scrambled onto his lap, his hands fisting into Loki’s tunic top, wanting the warmth and reassurance of the Alpha. Loki allowed him to take whatever comfort he wanted, drawing his legs up so his knees bracketed Tony’s body, his arms in a loose hug around his back.

He felt himself blinking back tears, the agony in his heart ingrained in the very tissues of his muscle, aching with every beat. Had Loki ever wanted more from him? He’d never asked, taking Loki’s word for it months ago that he too didn’t want to be tied down. They’d never spoken about anything changing, and Tony wasn’t certain Loki even wanted him in a long term sense, if he would eventually go home and find a royal Omega.

The thoughts made him shake in Loki’s hold, and even the deep crooning rumbling in the Alpha’s chest couldn’t calm him, the frantic thoughts of his mind more powerful than biological instincts.

‘Listen to me, I do not say this as an Alpha to an Omega. I know the boundaries you have set, will abide by them always, but I hope as one friend to another you will speak to me about what is ailing you,’ Loki encouraged.

‘I can’t,’ Tony whimpered.

He needed to sort this out alone.

***

He’d always scoffed at all of the insipid dramas Pepper had made him watch, the misunderstandings unfolding between two characters, arguments and heartbreak that could have easily been resolved with a mature conversation, sometimes even a word.

I’m pregnant.

They weren’t even difficult words to say, but Tony was suffocating under the weight of them, what they meant to him, to Loki, their future, his future.

Tony stood at the edge of the room, on the fringes of things where he was most comfortable. The charity event was in full swing around him, people in their finest clothes dancing, swirls of colorful silk and chiffon, the dark suits of the men a gorgeous contrast. The atmosphere was bubbly, light and frothy like the champagne they drunk, and Tony was the dark cloud, sucking up the positive emotions and radiating a toxic miasma in return.

Pepper suspected something was wrong too. Betas didn’t have the sense of smell Alphas had, but she knew him better than anyone, knew he was hiding something, and he knew he didn’t have long before she backed him into a corner.

He didn’t want to deal with the issue at hand, had started ignoring it, convincing himself that it would go away if he didn’t think about it. Even as he started being sick, the constant exhaustion now plaguing him, he turned a blind eye to it all, cutting himself off from everyone. The Avengers hadn’t noticed, used to Tony becoming obsessed with projects and cutting them off for weeks at a time.

Loki had though, Tony could feel his gaze boring into his back at the shared common room in the tower, the questions burning on his tongue when Tony refused to suit up as Iron Man. Even as Steve and Tony argued about his cowardice, Fury’s threats to take him from the team, he hadn’t said or done anything, leaving Tony to fight his own battles unless he was called for.

No matter how desperately Tony had wanted the Alpha…his Alpha beside him, he couldn’t say anything. Looking down at the untouched champagne glass in his hand, he gave a self-deprecating laugh. He couldn’t come to terms with the idea of becoming a parent, but understanding he’d been thinking of Loki of his Alpha for some time had been a simple realization.

Looking up through all the crowds of people here for the charity event he was supposed to be hosting, Tony found Loki easily. The Alpha was staring at him, hurt lurking in his gaze before he was quickly able to mask it, offering Tony a well-rehearsed smile, one he himself wore at events like this. Loki’s gaze went down to the still full glass in Tony’s grip, lifting his own and tapping the side of it, asking if he wanted something else.

Shaking his head, he turned away from Loki, forcing himself into conversation with one of the sponsors, nodding in greeting as Thor walked past with Bruce, both talking happily with a crowd of fans following.

He felt like an imposter, knowing he was meant to be part of a team. This…condition would change all that, he wouldn’t be taken seriously, forced into a desk position, watching on the sidelines. That wasn’t him, he wanted to protect the Earth.

I am Iron Man.

Smashing glass caught his attention, an ominous hush settling over everyone at the party, guests drawing away from Loki, revealing him to be the culprit of the damage. His fingers were still poised from where he’d been holding a glass, his eyes huge as he stared down at a woman.

A very pregnant, Omega woman.

Shit.

Tony thrust his glass into someone’s hand, trying to escape while there were people forming a barrier between them, fear clawing its way over his body, seizing him in its clutches as he tried to escape. Others turned to help him as they caught scent of his terror, some thinking a villain had shown up as he started to barge pass, trying to make a run for it.

He smacked into Loki’s chest, the lingering magic shimmering in the air revealing he’d teleported himself straight in his path.

‘I think not, Stark,’ Loki hissed, teleporting them both.

***

Despite the rage oozing from Loki’s body, he still made sure Tony had regained his footing after teleporting before he thrust him away, trying to put space between them both, magic crackling in his palms and snaking down his arms.

Tony staggered over to his bed, taking a moment to appreciate Loki the fact had teleported them somewhere he viewed safe. His bedroom was a sanctuary that few had access to, the one place he could nest without judgement, where he had his heats without fear for his safety, knowing that only FRIDAY could override the security locks on his door.

He wrapped his blanket around his knees, subconsciously guarding the life growing inside him as he hugged a pillow to his stomach. Hidden within it was a prototype gauntlet, and he knew Loki knew that, saw the way his gaze went to it even as Tony slid his hand into it, ready to fight.

‘Did you not think I would find out?’ Loki growled, holding his ground, trying not to threaten a pregnant Omega, but ensnared by the potent mix of rage and hurt. ‘Did you think you could conceal it from me forever, ashamed of me and my heritage? Or did you think I planned this for you somehow, trapping you as mine, the one thing you did not wish for!’

‘That isn’t it, Loki,’ Tony protested.

‘Then what, Stark? Tell me before my patience wears thin!’ Loki demanded.

The second use of his surname stung. He’d grown used to the way Loki said Anthony with reverence, the loving way he used darling sparingly, muttering it against his skin when he’d been exhausted from his heat, or when it was used when he sought affection from the Alpha.

‘I didn’t know how,’ Tony pleaded.

‘How to say you were carrying my child… or how to say you wish you weren’t?’

‘That isn’t it Loki! I’m scared damn it!’ Tony shouted, flinging the pillow to the floor, his gauntlet powering up as he pointed it at Loki. He was reacting to the Alpha’s rage, refusing to ever be powerless to an Alpha ever again. Never would he succumb to an Alphas manipulation that he was worthless because of his secondary gender like his father had taught him. Never would he be vulnerable to an Alphas pride, watching as someone he considered family tore his literal heart from his chest, leaving him for dead.

‘This isn’t about you! It was never about you!’ Tony shouted, standing up on the bed, refusing to have the lower ground. ‘I’m going to lose everything! Iron Man, the Avengers! I don’t know how to raise a child! I don’t want my life to change!’ Tony growled, every bit as terrifying as an Alpha.

That was partly the truth. Tony had a soft spot for children, always had done, but that hadn’t meant he wanted one of his own. These writhing, conflicted emotions he had were proof of it. This wasn’t what pregnancy was meant to be like, it was meant to be gender reveal parties and crying over baby booties, ecstatic would be parents falling into each other’s arms as they sobbed.

Not a twisted, broken Omega who didn’t know how to be a parent.

‘Loki…if I can’t even be happy I’m pregnant how am I going to be a parent? I’ll destroy them, just like my father destroyed me,’ Tony croaked, his hand falling to his side, his bare hand going to his stomach, finally acknowledging the life inside him.

‘Anthony, you’re in shock, I think you’re allowed to feel whatever you want to. Children are a wonderful-’

‘You don’t even want me! Why would you want this?’ Tony spat, lifting his gauntlet up again, aiming it at Loki’s chest.

‘Anthony, of course I want you. I have wanted nothing else but you since I began living here on Midgard. You honestly think I care for the Avengers, for dancing the steps SHIELD set out for me? I came to repair the damage with my brother, but I stayed because you were here. A gorgeous, spitfire Omega who stands strong against any Alpha, who ignores his instincts and decides what he wants out of life.’

Loki took a daring step forward, the anger gone from his posture, his hands held out in front of his chest, his posture meek, unthreatening.

‘An Omega I would have bonded long ago had I not seen how deep the scars life had left upon his soul, how terrified he was of commitment. Anthony Stark, I would have you stand beside me for the rest of your days, longer if you would accept me.’

‘Don’t,’ Tony choked out, his voice thick with tears, his legs struggling to hold him up.

Loki continued walking, lifting his head back, baring his neck in a vulnerable gesture, showing Tony he was in control.

‘I moved slowly because I did not want to scare you. No matter how much I yearned for you, how much I coveted you as a mate, I restrained my intentions because I wanted you, Anthony. I care not about your gender, either of them, I want you, because of you.’

‘What if I hurt them? What if they end up hating me? What if I can’t do it?’ Every ugly thought he had, every insecurity came flying out and he hated himself for it. Who was he thinking about? Himself? Or the child inside him?

‘Anthony, you are not alone in this. Even if you do not wish for me to be your bonded Alpha that will not stop me supporting you, or our child.’

Tony whined, a high pitched noise of distress and Loki was before him in an instant, embracing and scenting him to calm him.

‘This,’ Loki reached out, his hand huge on Tony’s abdomen. ‘This means more to me than I can express in words, that I found an Omega I could love, that he would bless me with such a gift. Do not think I do not want you, nor or child.’

‘I do want you,’ Tony told him. ‘I haven’t been able to tell you, I thought you-’

‘Hush, Anthony. You know the truth now. Now all that needs to be said is where we go from here.’

‘Iron Man, the team-’

‘Will all be waiting for you after the child is born,’ Loki promised. ‘I will guard Midgard for you in your stead, I swear it.’

‘What about-’

‘The fact that you already worry about such a thing reassures me that you will be a wonderful parent. You have taken great pains to reassure me over the past months that I am more than the sum of my parts, and now I speak the same wise words to you. You are not your father, Anthony, and I am not mine,’ he whispered, bending down to swipe away the furious tears building.

Tony surged forwards, kissing Loki, their tears mingling on their lips, sealing them together. Loki attempted to laugh as he pulled away, kissing Tony’s cheekbone.

‘I love you, Anthony. May I please have the honor of courting you?’

‘I love you too, Loki and only if that involves lots of presents,’ Tony tried to joke, his tears still falling.

‘Of course, only the best for my demanding Omega. We shall speak of our…unexpected gift at another time, but for now I believe it is best we rest. You’ve had me worried for weeks and unable to sleep,’ Loki told him, encouraging him back down towards the bed, scooping the blankets around Tony in a haphazard nest, not hiding his impulses now he knew of his feelings.

‘You really think I can do this, that we can do this?’ Tony asked as he settled down against Loki’s side, all the exhaustion he’d been struggling with making itself known.

‘I do not believe it will be free of challenges, but I am not lying to you when I say there are few beings in this universe I could love, fewer still that I would entrust to bear my child,’ Loki whispered down to him, hand splaying over his stomach. ‘Sleep, darling, we will talk more in the morning.’

Shoving aside any rampant thoughts in his mind, for positive reasons this time, Tony allowed his fingers to lace through Loki’s on his stomach, turning his gaze inwards, wondering who was inside there.

[rebelwrites]

It’s Me Or Her? - Part One

Clay Spenser x Reader

A/N: I’ve had this idea buzzing around my head for a little bit but don’t worry there will be a part 2

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Clay Spenser Masterlist

This Months Writing

“Yo Y/L/N” Sonny grinned appearing in the doorway of your cage.

“What” you glared looking up from your phone, you knew what he was going to say.

“You haven’t told me if you are going to the bbq tomorrow” he smirked, leaning against the metal. “So you coming or what?”

“I don’t have a choice do I?” You asked.

“Nope I was just being polite asking, if I have to come to your house and kidnap you I will” he grinned.

“Will she be there?” You hissed.

“Well considering she is Clay’s girlfriend and it’s our before deployment bbq yes she will” Sonny nodded, he knew just how much you hated her, and he also knew that ever since she got with Clay you felt like you lost your best friend and also he knew about your feelings for him.

“Great” you said sarcastically, moving your gaze to the door as the rest of the team strolled in.

“Watch out lads, Princess is in a mood today” Sonny laughed quickly changing the subject.

“When isn’t she” Ray winked as he fist bumped you before going to his cage.

“You might be 2IC Perry but I will drop you like a lead balloon” you smiled innocently.

“What’s up?” Clay asked standing where Sonny was just moments ago.

“Nothing, I'm just peachy,” you said, rolling your eyes as you stood up. “Anyway, what do you care?”

“Because you’re my friend” he said with a sad smile on his face.

“Yeah friend” you scoffed barging past him and headed for the door.

“Oi moody where are you going” Jase shouted as you hand touched the handle.

“For a piss and a smoke” you snapped. “Don’t worry I will be back in time for training”

It took Bravo team a while to adjust to having a female on the team but they eventually came around so they all knew how to handle your moods but they were getting a bit concerned with the tension that was bubbling away under the surface between you and Clay. Jase sighed as he pulled Sonny to the side.

“I’m guessing it’s something to do with tomorrow” he whispered.

“Yeah, we are gonna have to keep an eye on her make sure she doesn’t flip out” Sonny whispered.

“Maybe her and Clay need to have it out before we leave, otherwise it’s gonna be a long 3 months” Jase sighed.

“Either way I have a feeling there’s gonna be a fight tomorrow” Sonny whispered. “It’s really starting to get to her now even though she tries not to show it is”

“I actually thought I was going to have to kidnap you” Sonny laughed as he pulled you into a hug.

“Yeah well I considered bailing but things could get interesting” you laughed grabbing a beer out of the cool box, as you brought the bottle to your lips Jase draped his arm over your shoulder.

“I hope you are gonna be on your best behaviour tonight” he smirked.

“I mean when do I ever behave Jase” you smirked looking up at him.

“Just don’t start any fights, okay” he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

“No promises” you shrugged, wiggling out of his grasp to go find Cerberus.

The moment you flopped onto the grass you saw Clay and Jenny walk into the garden, you didn’t realise you growled until Cerberus nuzzled his snout against your cheek.

“I know buddy” you whispered kissing his nose. You really didn’t see what Clay saw in her, she wasn’t the type of person to hang around with rowdy tier one operators, in fact she was the person to date one just so say she dated a Seal. I mean who wears six inch stilettos to a god damn bbq.

All you wanted to do was punch her in the face, but you knew everyone would be keeping tabs on you tonight so you decided to stay out the way, the way you were feeling right now it was the safe option.

Your peace didn’t last long as Sonny came over and literally flung you over his shoulder.

“I swear to god I will stab you asshole” you growled as he carried you through the garden.

“Stop being an unsociable demon then” he laughed dropping your on your ass in the middle of the group.

“You better sleep with one eye open in J-Bad” you growled looking up at him “I’m coming for you Sonny Quinn”

“Give it your best shot Princess” he winked before going back to the grill.

Sighing in defeat you pulled your phone out , connecting it to Blackburn’s outdoor surround system, scrolling through your playlist you were looking for one song, a song that you knew would cause shit but you needed a good fight. Standing to your feet you went to join Jase, Ray and Sonny around the grill whilst pressing play on the song.

Hey, hey, you, you, I don't like your girlfriend (That's right) No way, no way, I think you need a new one. Hey, hey, you, you, I could be your girlfriend. Hey, hey, you, you, I know that you like me. No way, no way, you know it's not a secret. Hey, hey, you, you, I want to be your girlfriend

“Please tell me you didn’t just put this song on” Jase sighed as he realised the song you put on that was now blasting out loud.

“Don’t know what you are on about” you shrugged “I just put my playlist on shuffle”

“Give me strength” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Dude it’s just a song chill out” you laughed.

“Yes but it’s the meaning behind the song and you know it” Ray sighed.

You're so fine, I want you mine, you're so delicious. I think about you all the time, you're so addictive. Don't you know what I can do to make you feel alright? (Alright, alright, alright, alright)

“Look I’m not going to do anything so chill out” you nodded looking around the garden, making eye contact with Clay. You always had flirty banter with him until he got with Jenny, she instantly took a disliking to you, didn’t like how close you were with Clay. Your eyes were still locked as you sang along with the song. “Don't pretend, I think you know I'm damn precious. And hell yeah, I'm the motherfucking princess. I can tell you like me too and you know I'm right”

In a way this was your way of admitting your true feelings to him, it was ironic that you wasn’t afraid of being the first person through the door but when it came to your feelings that scared the fuck out of you.

She's like so whatever. You could do so much better. I think we should get together now. And that's what everyone's talking about. Hey, hey, you, you, I don't like your girlfriend. No way, no way, I think you need a new one. Hey, hey, you, you, I could be your girlfriend. Hey, hey, you, you, I know that you like me. No way, no way, you know it's not a secret. Hey, hey, you, you, I want to be your girlfriend

“Whatever happens you have my six right?” You asked looking up at the boys.

“You know we always do” Ray said, squeezing your shoulder. “Just don’t do anything stupid”

“Come on this is me we are on about Ray” you laughed sipping your beer, watching how Jenny realised you and Clay were still holding eye contact across the garden and you could literally see steam coming out of her ears. “But if she wants to start fucking let her”

“That’s what I’m worried about” he sighed “we don’t need you banged up for this deployment”

“When do I ever lose a fight” you winked before going to mingle with the rest of the team.

The boys couldn’t take their eyes off Clay and Jenny, just waiting for the moment it popped off so they could intervene.

“Deployment is going to be fun” Sonny said with sarcasm laced in his voice.

In a second, you'll be wrapped around my finger. 'Cause I can, 'cause I can do it better. There's no other, so when's it gonna sink in? She's so stupid, what the hell were you thinking? In a second, you'll be wrapped around my finger. 'Cause I can, 'cause I can do it better. There's no other, so when's it gonna sink in? She's so stupid, what the hell were you thinking?

Before you knew it you felt someone pulling your hair making you scream at the sudden contact. That was it, you saw red, you ignored the pain from Jenny’s grip on your hair as you managed to get out of her hold, without even thinking your fist connected with her face, so hard you felt it crack making your smirk.

“Don’t ever try to sneak attack a Seal bitch” you spat as she clutched her nose.

“Y/N what the fuck” Clay snapped rushing to Jenny’s aid, “you fucking broke her nose”

“Oh did I?” You shrugged, rolling your eyes.

“The fuck has gotten into you recently, this isn’t you” Clay shouted as Trent took Jenny to go see to her nose.

“Oh that’s fucking rich coming from you” you growled, squaring you with Clay with your fists balled at your side.

“I don’t know what youre talking about” Clay growled back, your bodies pressed together.

“Well how about ever since you got with her , you never hang with the team anymore, you bail on us all the goddamn time. Or how about when I needed my best friend because I was having a hard time with some news I got but you blew me off because you had plans with her” you screamed as the hot tears ran down your cheeks. “Or when the weight of the last fucking op was near enough crushing me to the point I nearly left the fucking team, you didn’t even notice because you are never around. So much for being my best friend and having my six”

“Come one Y/L/N” Jase said in your ear as he wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you away from Clay.

“I didn’t know” Clay said, softening his tone.

“Like I said it’s because you are never around” you screamed as you thrashed in Jason’s grip. As Jenny appeared next to Clay, wrapping her hand around his arm. “You know I was moments away from spilling my heart out to you last deployment but stopped myself because you’d never feel anything for your best friend despite the years of flirting”

“Baby she’s just jealous” Jenny whined.

“Bitch I can show you jealous if you want” you growled as Jase picked you up taking you further away from the situation.

“Walk it off” he snapped as he put you on the ground.

“Why should I?” You snapped.

“Just fucking walk it off Y/N” Jase snapped before dropping his tone. “Please just go calm down”

“Fine” you huffed grabbing the bottle of whiskey off the side when he let you go.

As you were taking yourself for a walk to try and calm down you heard Jenny ask Clay a question that you weren't sure if you wanted to know the answer to so you started sprinting to get as far away from them as possible.

“You gotta choose Clay, it’s me or her?”

@chibsytelford @mrsmarvelous1995 @supervalcsi @talicat713 @disasterfandoms @bravo-four-seal-team @jasonbabymama @jayhalsteadfan-2417 @lotsoflovefromlea @seik-o @ohitsnicolexo @velvetcardiganbucky @phoenixhalliwell @pancakeisreading @itsonautopilot @pinkrockstar19 @galaxysanduniversesinmymind @softi92 @abby-splace

[itadorisgf]

shopping trip.

you rope maki into going shopping with you. though she’d rather by anywhere else, she doesn’t appreciate it when someone tries to ruin her best friend’s day.

wc: 1.4k

maki zenin.

gn!reader, best friend!reader, hurt/comfort, non-consensual groping, light violence.

the door slams against the wall with a loud smack as you burst through into the room. you toss yourself onto the bed pressed up against the wall, sprawling onto your back and smiling up at its occupant.

“haven’t you ever heard of knocking?” maki peers over the top of her glasses, an unamused expression plastered on her face. she looks away from you, continuing to scroll through her phone as you squirm around until you get into a comfortable position.

“yeah, but i had something really important to tell you.” you’ve turned over to lie on your stomach, your face now propped up by your palms as you jut your lip out at maki, who doesn’t even bother to look your way.

“what was so important that you couldn’t knock on my door like a normal person?” 

unfortunately for maki, you bursting through her door without any warning is a regular occurrence. somehow you’ve never come in unannounced during a time when she was asleep or changing, which was surprising considering how often you liked to pop in to her room. it’s like you had a sixth sense in which you knew when would be a bad time to go bother maki. or maybe you’ve just gotten lucky so far. 

maki would lock you out, but she knows you would just pester her until she unlocked it and hung out with you. 

if possible, your grin widens even more, nearly splitting your face in half. “i need to go shopping and you have to come with me.”

“not a chance.”

“maki,” you whine, letting your arms slip out from under you and flopping fully down on your stomach with your cheek pressed up against the mattress. “please?”

“no,” she states, not even tearing her eyes away from her phone to reply to you. “why would i ever want to willingly go shopping when i have no reason to?”

“because i’m your best friend in the entire world and you love me so much.”

that may be true, but not a good enough reason for maki to get off her bed and go shop with you when the two of you could do something like spar instead. she gives you a deadpan look that has you quickly searching for another reason.

“i promise i’ll be fast and i’ll even buy you lunch.”

her lips curl into an approving grin and her eyes flash over to yours as she closes out of the application she was in.

“deal.”

you, in fact, were not fast.

maki should have known better, to be honest. you always take forever since you have such a difficult time deciding on whether or not you want to purchase something. the excuse of i’m not going to spend money on something i don’t love on your tongue as you clutch two different shirts in your hand, comparing them in an attempt to choose which one you should buy. you ended up buying neither of them.

maki’s just glad that the first thing the two of you did when you got to the mall was get lunch. you let maki choose the place, but warned her not to drain your pockets with what she wanted. she was tempted to buy something expensive to eat just to hear you grumble, but she opted for a meal that she enjoyed and wasn’t out of your price range.

lunch was nice, though maki slapped your hand away when you tried to steal some food off her plate. she eventually caved in and let you sneak in a few bites when you whined and pouted at her. in return, you let her try some of your food too.

right now, she was hanging around the entrance of the store you were perusing. mindlessly scrolling through social media because after the first few stores, maki blatantly refused to go into any more with you. you understood that shopping wasn’t really of interest to maki, so you left it at that and bounded into the shop without her.

however, you’ve been in there for awhile and maki was growing the slightest bit antsy. she couldn’t wait to get back to campus, rope you into some sparring for making her agree to come with you, and beat your ass as proper payment. yeah, that sounded nice.

“thanks for waiting for me!” maki looks up from her phone to see you bounce up to her with a few bags clutched in your hands. you bring up your hand to rub at the back of your head, jostling the bags in your grip, as you give her a sheepish grin. “sorry, i know i took longer than expected.”

“it’s no big deal.” she remarks, lightly hitting the side of your head with her palm. “are you done, though? because if you’re going to take another hour or something i swear—”

“just one more store,” you assure, walking into step with her, “i promise, i just wanted to stop by the candy store and buy some stuff for the others.”

she huffs underneath her breath at that. you really shouldn’t be buying others stuff when your allowance for this month is going to run out soon. maki cocks her head your way. “you shouldn’t buy—”

a startled gasp falls from your lips and maki whips her head around, trying to place why you made that noise. the sight that greets maki has her seeing red instantaneously. an older man has his hand firmly placed on your ass, a sick appraising look on his face. maki’s quick to react, ripping his hand off of you, a shocked expression replacing the previous one on the male’s face.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” maki tightens her grip on his wrist, causing the man to wince in pain. good. she was going to shatter his damn wrist. “huh? aren’t you going to say anything? got nothing better to do than be a fucking pervert?” maki sneers, digging her nails into his skin. she hopes he fucking bleeds.

“aa—let go, you crazy bitch.”

a dangerous grin spreads across maki’s face. “i’ll show you just how fucking crazy—”

“m-maki.” your voice shakes as you gently tug on the sleeve of her shirt. “let’s go.” her grip doesn’t loosen in the slightest, prompting the man to yelp in pain. “please.”

she tosses the man’s arm out of her grip, glaring down at him. “if i see you harassing anyone else, i’ll break your arm.” he scampers away, clutching his wrist and murmuring psycho bitch underneath his breath.

the deep frown marking maki’s face softens when she turns her attention back to you. you’re slightly shaking, holding your bags in an iron grip. your head hangs low with your eyes trained on the ground. maki feels anger rise up once more within her; she should go back and beat the fucking shit out of the man for putting his hands on you.

“hey.” she gently places her hand on your shoulder to get your attention. you flinch from the touch, causing maki to retract her hand back as fast as she can. scratch that, she was going to kill him.

“sorry,” you softly murmur, bringing a hand to rub at your arm. why are you apologizing for anything?

“don’t apologize. it’s not your fault.” maki takes care to emphasize that it’s not your fault. it’s nobody’s fault but that stupid bastard’s. “are you good with me touching you?”

you nod your head an imperceptible amount. she awkwardly wraps her arms around your form, engulfing you in a hug. you’re unbearably stiff for a moment before you lift your arms to clutch at the back of maki’s shirt. she doesn’t comment on the dampening of her shirt and just holds you in a hug.

when you pull away to rub at your eyes, there’s a small watery grin playing at your lips. “who knew maki zenin was such a softie?”

she scowls at that, gently poking the side of your head with her finger. “shut up. i’m not.”

her retort is half-hearted and it’s clear that both of you know it. secretly, maki is just relieved that you’re joking again. begrudgingly, she lets you loop your arms together and lean into her side as you start walking again.

“c’mon, i still want to go to the candy store.”

(later, when you get back to campus and confide in the others about what happened, they discreetly exchange glances with one another, resolving themselves to beat the shit out of that man if they ever come across him.)

[morganaspendragonss]

quédate un segundo más (1/8)

@911lonestarangstweek day 8 - t is for...tumour, terminal, treatment

title from voy a quedarme by blas cantó, translates roughly to 'stay a second more'

thanks to @halsteadmarchs and @tarlos-spain for the beta!

as shown above, this will be eight chapters if all goes to plan, and i hope to finish it before season 3 begins. much of what is written both in this chapter and in future ones is ripped directly from life and i am only writing from my own perspective and experiences of losing a loved one to cancer.

ao3 | 1.6k | angst, hurt tk, cancer, terminal illness, more warnings to come in future chapters

A rare genetic mutation.

That’s what the doctors tell him when the results come back.

A rare genetic mutation that has rendered his cancer practically undetectable until its latest stages, until all that’s left to do is wait to die.

TK’s hands shake as various leaflets on Managing Your Diagnosis and What To Expect and Looking After Someone With Cancer are placed in them. He feels two steps to the side of himself, his entire world halting in its tracks the moment those words had left the doctor’s lips.

“I’m afraid it’s not good news,” he’d said, eyes wide and empathetic. “Your scans and blood results have come back showing evidence of a tumour on your pancreas. There are treatment options which we can and will—with your consent—pursue, however I have to inform you that your cancer is entering stage IV. It has begun to spread to your bladder and liver. I’m sorry to say that, at this point, treatment is more focused on managing your pain and making you as comfortable as possible; we do not anticipate recovery.”

It’s just… TK’s fine. He feels fine. Like, sure, he’s been a little more tired recently and he’s been getting these weird pains, but they always fade after a while, and he’s fine.

But he couldn’t deny the blood spotting his pee, the last straw which had finally sent him to the doctor’s office.

Too late, apparently.

A touch on his knee brings him back to reality with a start. TK looks up to meet the doctor’s kind gaze, and he wants to cry.

“I understand this is a lot to take in,” he’s saying. “If you have any questions, please ask.”

“I…” TK shakes his head, swallowing a couple of times before dropping his eyes to his knees, the words on the pamphlets blurred through his tears. “How long?”

The doctor hesitates a moment, then sighs regretfully. “I can’t say for certain. People frequently outlive their projected timeframes; equally, it could be less. However, given the way your tumour looks and the rate it appears to be spreading at, I would estimate around six months.”

Six months.

Six—six months.

“Oh,” TK says, and it feels wildly insufficient but it’s all he has. What even is there to say? He’s dying, and that’s...that’s that.

“Do you have a support system in place?” the doctor asks. “This is going to be a difficult process, and you are going to need other people to help you through it.”

TK nods slowly, not looking up. “M-My husband. Carlos. He was supposed to come with me today but he was called into work last minute. He’s a detective, so he couldn’t exactly refuse—not that that stopped him from trying.” He laughs wetly, remembering how he’d insisted that everything would be fine when Carlos had stalled leaving this morning. “And there’s my dad, and my team—my family. I’m a paramedic and I work in a fire station, so we’re all pretty close. I… Shit, I’m sorry. You don’t need to know all this.”

“It’s okay.” The doctor is still smiling, still so understanding, and TK wonders—just how many times has he had to do this? “I’m glad to hear you have solid support behind you; that’s going to be incredibly important for the coming months. I’ve also given you a few leaflets about support groups you can access, that your family can access, and, of course, your treatment team will be there every step of the way.

“Now,” he continues, returning to a semi-professional aspect, “I want to see you later this week to iron out how we’re going to proceed. For now, why don’t you go home and rest, allow yourself to process this? Does Friday at 10.30 work for your next appointment?”

TK nods absently, clutching the pamphlets tight enough to crease them. “That’s fine,” he whispers.

“Okay,” the doctor says, just as quiet. “Are you going to be okay to get home?”

“Yeah.”

But he doesn’t move. He can’t. In this room, he’s separated from the rest of the world—TK doesn’t want to go back into it, where he’ll have to tell everyone he loves that he’s… That he…

“TK.”

TK’s head snaps up at the doctor’s voice and he flushes a little at seeing his pointed look. “Sorry,” he mutters, scrambling to stand up.

The doctor stands too, much more gracefully than TK, and gets the door for him. “It’s okay. I’ll see you on Friday, TK, alright?”

He mumbles an affirmative then steps out of the office, taken aback for a moment by the bustle and noise in the corridor. It’s strange to witness it now, to see all these people who don’t know him from Adam going about their lives, while his has, in the span of thirty minutes, completely crumbled.

TK takes a deep breath (and how many of those does he have left?) and joins the flow.

*

He’s home.

That’s… He doesn’t remember it. He must have unlocked the front door because the keys are in his hand and he’s standing in the entryway, but TK has no idea how he managed to get from the doctor’s office to here.

He made good time though, judging by the clock on the wall.

Small victories.

With heavy steps, TK walks to the sofa, easing himself down and tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling. It still doesn’t feel real that there's this—this thing inside him, growing and mutating and killing him. He’s not sure when it finally will.

Maybe in a few months, when his skin is sagging off his bones and his hair is gone and even the very act of breathing is a challenge.

Or maybe in a few hours, when Carlos comes home and TK has to break the news. TK can picture his face now, the way his ever-present smile will crack and break, the shock and hurt and grief that will take its place.

He thinks he understands his dad now.

TK closes his eyes and tries to clear his mind, just for a moment, of everything that’s happened today.

Which, as it turns out, is a mistake, because that’s when he remembers the letter that came for them yesterday and the phone call they’re going to make after dinner.

The phone call they were going to make after dinner.

TK wants to scream at the unfairness of it all. They’ve been waiting for that moment for so long, the moment in which they found out they were finally cleared to adopt a kid. And now…

Gone.

Carlos is going to be crushed.

As if the universe is reacting to that last thought, the door suddenly swings open, marking Carlos’s return from his impromptu shift. For a moment, TK panics. He’s not ready, dammit, he needs more time to plan and to figure it all out, how he feels and what he’s going to say, but—

But, in the end, it doesn’t matter. He could have had the most detailed and well-thought out plan in the world and it wouldn’t have mattered.

Because all it takes is one look at Carlos’s smile for TK to fall apart.

Carlos is by his side in an instant, gathering him in his arms and sliding to the floor with him when TK can no longer support himself on the couch. TK fists his hands in his husband’s shirt and cries into his neck, all the emotion that’s been slowly building all day exploding from him all at once.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Carlos shushes, which only makes TK cry harder, because how is he supposed to tell him that it’s not?

He shakes his head and clings onto him tighter, feeling Carlos do the same to him in return. TK’s always felt safe in his arms and it’s no different now; he thinks that, if he can just stay here forever, maybe things will turn out okay after all.

But the moment ends, as they tend to do. When TK’s sobs have run dry, Carlos carefully pulls back from him, his hands rising to cup his face and wipe the tears from his cheeks.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” he asks softly, so much worry in those damn eyes that it hurts. “Is it… Did the doctor say something? Are you okay?”

TK opens his mouth, but the words refuse to come out. All he manages is a wordless shake of the head, and even that turns Carlos’s expression into the picture of devastation. He can’t bear to look at it, so he wraps his arms around Carlos’s waist and leans into him again, resting his head on his chest.

Carlos holds him and presses a kiss to the top of his head. “We’ll get through it,” he promises. “Whatever it takes.”

And it turns out that he does have a few more tears left in him; TK squeezes his eyes shut and breathes out shakily as a couple of lone drops fall down his cheeks. “We can’t,” he whispers hoarsely. Carlos stiffens and shifts as if to look TK in the eyes, but TK doesn’t let him. If he has to look at Carlos, he doesn’t think he’ll have the courage to say it. He hesitates a moment longer, a huge lump forming in his throat, but eventually he manages it.

“It’s cancer,” he chokes out. “Stage IV. Incurable. They think… I’ve got six months.”

It’s like time stops.

They’re both motionless on the floor of their front room, neither saying anything, barely breathing as the weight of it settles between them.

TK doesn’t know how long it lasts for, but suddenly Carlos sobs and grips onto him with a bruising strength. Carlos’s body heaves and shakes with the force of his cries, and it’s TK’s turn to hold him as tears drip down Carlos’s cheeks into his hair.

And, in that moment, it becomes real.

[aka-ashi-keiji]

“the words I couldn’t say” 

Bakugou Katsuki

Angst, One shot

tw: character death, description of hospital.

a/n: no idea how i had the strength to write this but i did cry while doing so, i hope you do too ;)

Bakugou Katsuki. Your best friend, your neighbor, your classmate, the “fire” to your ice, and unknowingly your first love. Looking back on all the years you spent with him, all the plans you made together for the rest of your life, you never thought you’d be put in this position. 

For months, this was the routine. School, hospital, Bakugou, home. Then repeat. But after today, there wasn’t going to be a “repeat”. The explosive light that once ran through his blood colored irises, was now fading and slipping through your fingertips. The fingertips that gripped the sleeve of the hospital gown that would soon be the last piece of fabric to grace his skin. 

The same eyes that glared at you with jealousy and admiration of your growth as a child, now only displayed the bare minimum of life. But you could see it, you could see in the way his forearm flexed under your grip that he still had thoughts to voice. Although you knew he couldn’t, you also knew what he was trying to say. 

Each visit to him was sealed with an ‘i love you’ from your lips, and an ‘i know’ from his. Bakugou was finally ready to reciprocate your farewell, but the barrier of a sickness restricted his ability to. While you silently burned this last image of him into your consciousness, you could feel the presence of the paper folded thrice in you pocket, the power of its presence burning into the side of your thigh. That paper, the paper you had taken hours to write, only to erase the words and start over once more. The final words you had written that stayed, were the ones you hoped Katsuki would die holding close to his heart. 

Don’t cry. 

That’s what you promised yourself. You wouldn’t cry until he was actually gone, you prayed those tears would never come. Your grip on his sleeve moved down to his pale hand. You fingers wrapped around the side of his palm, your hand half the size of his. His hands built like an iron fist, made to withstand those beautiful explosions that were meant to save the world. You focused on the feeling of his calloused skin against your trembling fingers, shaken by the fear of what was coming. And to your dismay, it looked as if it were already here. 

His breathing became more rapid and his chest stuttered, his body flexed with pain and his eyes shut with discomfort. You wanted to force them back open, afraid to let go of the sight of the eyes that frightened others, but soothed you. His hand relaxed out of your grip, but you connected yourselves once more. You didn't have the strength to let go yet, you couldn’t let go of the hands that trained you into the hero you are, the hands that warmed themselves to heal your muscles. The hand you clutched every time you were scared, just like you had now. Before, it was out of fear of monsters in the dark. Now. it was out of fear of the monsters taking your protector. 

You knew what the time was, and you knew it was time to say your goodbye. You had it all written out, but you didn’t want him to hear it. Not only because you didn’t want to accept his fate, but because you knew he wouldn’t be able to respond to the words you poured your lifeline into. That silence alone would break your heart before his departure could. Regardless, you stood, his weary eyes followed your stance. You smiled with every intention of pushing down the aching sadness that racked the inside of your body. As if Bakugou could sense the agony you were enduring, he smiled faintly back. His smile was more of a smug smirk, but that’s what made it special. That small sign was enough to remind you that he was still there. 

You were never good with words when you had to speak them off the top of your head, but you were a damn good writer. Katsuki knew this and his expression seemed brighten just a bit as he watched you remove the paper from your pocket. A few deep breaths were taken before you found yourself unfolding the letter you whole heartedly wanted to burn to ash. But you knew that if you never voiced what it conveyed, you wouldn’t ever feel as if you said a proper goodbye. And after everything Bakugou had done for you, this goodbye was well deserved. 

Your voice seemed to cease as you read the first line, your eyes flicking back and fourth from your hands back to where Bakugou laid. You nearly ripped the sheet of words from how hard you gripped it, restraining yourself from destroying it. Maybe if you destroyed the goodbye, you would never have to let go. That was your thought process in that moment. And in that moment, all you wanted was to be held in the arms kept you safe from the world, even when Katsuki refused to hug you. All you wanted for that moment, was to simply forget that soon, all of it was going to be gone. 

“I’m terrible with my emotions, and even worse with putting them into words.” 

You started to read, Bakugou turned his head ever so slightly against the pillow to show you that you had his full attention. Or, what was left of his consciousness. You continued.

“But for you Bakugou Katsuki I will try. I will try to help you understand how much you made my life a living hell, but I also feared the thought of living it without you. I never thought that I would be so bothered by your silence. I never thought I would miss your explosive outbursts and the way you would yell my name when I didn’t pick up after yourself. I never knew that I would be standing here, right now, saying goodbye to your forever.” 

By this point in your speech, tears started to cloud your vision, the words becoming a pool of ink. You stole a glace at Katsuki over the top of the page, and his smile still remained. He was listening to every word, taking in the sound of your voice. He was keeping himself attached for you, one last time he would stay and listen. 

“I never told you this and I should’ve, because i thought about it way too much. But you’re beautiful Katsuki.” 

A soft chuckle barely audible rang through your ears. The small sound relaxing your senses and allowing you to push forward. 

“I always thought every part and detail about you was beautiful. From the way your blood colored eyes softened at the sound of rain hitting your window, to the way you trace over the scars on your hands when you’re nervous. Your hunched stance, and the disgusted grimace that’s always plastered to your face, it was all always beautiful to me. and I hate that the most beautiful thing in my life is being stripped out of existence.” 

A single tear rolled down your cheek, cursing the weakness of your eyes. Bakugou’s smile had faded, but he was still listening. Waiting for what you had to say next. But he wasn’t waiting, he was ready. 

“I want you to know that I’m not upset that you’re leaving. But I’m sad that I can't go with you. Thinking about going back to a home without you is terrifying. I want to give up, I want so badly to stop my life right here. It doesn’t feel fair to live the life that was meant for both of us. But I know damn well that if I don’t, you’d come down and haunt my ass.” 

You laughed breathlessly and your tears came much quicker now, trying to find a way to make this speech end, but also last forever. 

“So i’ll live my life. I’ll make sure to live it so vividly that it’s as if the life was led by two people. I promise I’ll push through the pain that’s coming. I promise to live out all of our dreams together. I swear to you that I will become the hero you wanted to be. I’ll do it all for you, because you deserved for the world to know your name. I’ll make it known, I swear your presence on this earth will never die.” 

You paused, you weren’t sure if you could get through the next line. You lungs weren’t expanding enough to allow oxygen to flow, the tears and congestion only building on your face. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him. You could see Katsuki, he was crying, just as much as you. His arm trembled as it reached out for you, calling you closer to him. You took his hand once more and seated yourself to allow his arm to rest against the bed. He nodded his head, smiling through the tears that dripped down his cheeks and onto his neck. You shook your head, rejecting his permission to continue. You couldn’t. You weren’t ready to stop holding on. 

“Please. y/n, please.” 

the sounds of your sniffles nearly overpowered the soft spoken words. Your crying came to a halt, the urgency and pain in such a small voice pulling at you to continue. He needed to hear the end of it. He was ready to let go, he was in so much pain. But here he was holding onto the pain, just so he could ease yours. You brought the paper up once more, and began. 

“And even if the world somehow forgets how astounding you are, your memory will never die in me. A day will never pass where I won’t think of what it would’ve been like if you were still here. Damnit Kat, you’re not gonna graduate with me, you won’t see me off to my first day on hero patrol, you won’t be at my wedding either. Birthdays won’t be the same, I’ll never look at spicy food with a whole heart ever again. But I know, that even though you have to leave right now, I know deep down that you’ll be watching and guiding me through every step. I know you’d never leave me behind, and I wouldn’t dream of leaving you.” 

He squeezed your hand lightly, letting you know he heard every word. He would be there in every moment for you. He was listening, and silently promising. 

“And you know why I’ll never forget you Kat? Because I love you. I’ve told you everyday, because I’m scared I’ll never have another chance to. That time has- the time has finally come where- whe- where I won’t get another chance after today!” 

Your voice was becoming rough and you stumbled over your words as you approached the last sentences. You were close to a scream, angry at the world for making you do this. You were mad Katsuki had to go through this. But no matter the rage, you had to keep going. As if on que, Bakugou tugged on your hand and your gaze flew to meet his eyes. 

“I’m ready. It’s okay.” He whispered, a faint a genuine smile following. He was ready to let go, it was time for you to let him. You wanted to shake your head no and tell him he couldn’t leave, but you knew that wasn’t fair. How could you force someone who protected you with everything, how could you force them to fight through the pain he felt now. So, finally, you let go. 

“I love you, I love you Kat. For the last time, I love you. I love you over and over, and I’ll never stop. You never said it back, but I know you know that I love you. And that’s enough for me... This is our goodbye, our final ‘see ya later’.  But I love you Katsuki.” 

You sank into your chair, your head pressed against the back of Katsuki’s hand you gripped so tightly. Your tears rolled from your cheeks onto his hand and down to the bed. You sobs shook your body, not taking a chance to look back up. Not ready to see him slip away. But you had done it, your goodbye was complete. But you felt as if a piece of you had been taken, you felt incomplete. The words on that paper dismantling your ability to hold on. Maybe that’s what it was meant to do, maybe this was your way of letting go. Breaking yourself was the only way to ease him of his pain. 

You felt the bed shift, a weight change. Slowly your eyes trailed to Katsuki’s. Tears still ran freely from his eyes, but he was smiling. That genuine smile still pieced him together. You’d never seen him smile for so long, you’d never seen him smile with such sweetness. No smirk, no smugness, just pure ecstasy and joy. and even though you knew it wouldn’t last much longer, you were happy you had the chance to see it. 

His free hand lifted from his side, and shakily crossed his body to hold it out to you. It was balled into a fist, and you took this as he had something to give to you. You held an open palm underneath, and he dropped his gift into it. A small piece of paper, your name scribbled out in Katsuki’s bold, but neat handwriting. Strong but beautiful, just like him. 

You looked down at it, not entirely sure how to feel. You wanted to know what it was, but at the same time you didn't want to ruin the last piece of evidence that Bakugou was in your life. Reading this letter was almost as if sealing his departure. But, with all of these doubts, with a wide smile and a small nod from Kat, you opened it and you read. Oh how you wish you didn’t.

“Emotions suck, they’re a pain in my ass and I hate talking about them. But I know that if I don’t now, I’ll never get to. And I’m terrible with words, and I think by the time I give this to you, I won’t even have the option to voice this to you directly. So, here it goes.

Don’t be sad forever okay? I know it’s kinda shitty and I wouldn’t ever wanna leave you in this terrible world, but I’m really not that far. I’ll be there, I’ll protect your clumsy ass and make sure you don’t join me too soon. I want you to live the life we both dreamed of, live the life I know you’ve always wanted. And as dumb and sappy as it sounds, I want you to be happy. I’m your best friend and crap yeah, but don’t you dare let me take away that beautiful perspective you have on the world. 

I never said it back, and yknow I kinda feel bad. I always said “I know” because i did know that you loved me. It felt good knowing, and I was hoping the validation of me acknowledging it would be enough. That was pretty fucking dumb of me. So I guess what I’m saying is that, I know you love me. But, I love you too. Don’t you ever forget it y/n. Don’t ever forget how much you are loved. it’s your turn to say ‘I know’. If you ever forget, just remember the words are right here.

These are all the words I couldn’t say, hold on to ‘em would ya?

from, kat.” 

As you read the last line, the line on the heart monitor went flat. And that was that. 

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••🌸

[after-witch]

Horrorfest: Damned to Live Forever (Vampire Yandere Aizawa x Reader)

Title: Damned to Live Forever (Vampire Yandere Aizawa x Reader)

Synopsis: You fall prey to the whims of a vampire with a penchant for lost, helpless souls. Inspired by a quote from The Hunger (1983): “We're damned to live forever - with no release, no end.”

Word Count: 1704

Notes: yandere, vampire, blood/slight gore

You hate walking alone at night. Not for sensible reasons, mind you--such as being worried about someone sticking a knife against your back and demanding your purse or your life; or even the fear of city rats, which had grown particularly plump and daring as of late.

No. You hate walking alone at night because of your childish fear of what might be lurking out there, in the dark, in the night: creepy crawlies and monsters and shadow-men and other childhood fears that have never quite lifted away. You still refused to walk by mirrors in the dark, you always crossed your finger when you walked by a cemetery, and you certainly wore your crucifix around your neck when you were walking alone at night.

You hadn’t been religious, not exactly, since childhood; blind faith had left you like other things, but in moments of fear, when you needed comfort, it was there. 

And a crucifix, in particular, was good at warding off vampires.

As you walk along the deserted city street, still damp from afternoon rain, you couldn't help but keep one hand on your purse and another on your necklace. Protect-me, protect-me, you think. Just in case. You're still repeating your mantra when you hear... something in the shadows, in the alley. You feel something, too. A rush--wind, but lighter. You hear the sound of rustling, a snapping sort of fabric sound, the sound you used to hear when your mom would snap laundry wrinkles.

And then--a cry, strangled, and soft, and desperate. "Help! Please!" It's coming from alley, just a few feet away.

You feel your legs turn cold. You want to run and every inch of your common sense screams at you: Run, run, run, run. But the sound of their cry replays in your head: help, please, help, please. Wouldn't you want someone to come to your rescue? Or at least try? Your desire to help pushes you to shove your hand into your purse and dig out your keys. You stick them in between your fingers like claws and press on ahead towards the plea for help.

Your work shoes click furiously against the pavement, mirroring your hammering heartbeat, as you rush into the unknown. You can just make out a figure, no, two figures: one, hunched over the other. The first figure, swathed in black, has their victim wrapped in some type of fabric. The other figure is sagging in the grip of the fabric, moaning softly in pain, breath hitching. Their eyes look enormous--white, bulging out of their face, terror-stricken.

The bulging, helpless gaze soon turns to you; they whimper, and in a moment the first figure straightens their back. They know you’re there.

You feel your bowels clench and the hand gripping your keys weakens; they drop to the ground, clattering so loud you could swear they echo. The dark figure slowly turns around, facing you, and your hand instinctively clutches your crucifix.

It’s… not human. Its eyes are black. Blood and bits of skin cling to their chin. Their mouth, partially open, reveals two sharp fangs.

A vampire.

All of your childish fears flood your mind in an instant; years of nightmares and novels and terrified tip-toeing into your parent’s bedrooms because you swear you heard something scratching at the window and-no-it-wasn’t-a-branch.

The creature releases the other figure. You notice dimly that their body drops on the ground, unceremoniously, ashen grey and lifeless. The fabric that had encircled them seems to slither back to the first figure on its own accord, wrapping around its neck.

You back up in horror, thinking foolishly, nonsensically, that if you can just make it back into the street you’ll be safe. You don’t take more than a step or two before your shirt is suddenly gripped, and you are slammed against the wall.

Your breath comes in terrible, ragged pants as you look up at the creature’s face. Up close, it was even more unearthly. The smell of dirt and stone filled your nostrils. It reminded you of fresh graves you used to smell on the way to school, walking past the cemetery with your fingers crossed so hard that they hurt. Its skin had a strange, pink clamminess to it; the black eyes seemed to dance with shadow. But it was the fangs, and the mouth, covered in drying blood and gore, that had your attention.

The creature, still gripping your shirt tightly in one hand, brings the other up to your face. Its hands are surprisingly clean, with fingernails filed into sharp points. You whimper when you feel a finger run along your cheek. It feels like a razor, and you swear you can feel blood already dribbling from a cut.

The creature leans in, and you groan in terror at the sight of the fangs and blood and its tongue darting out to lick your cheek. The fear overtakes your body, bringing back your almost primal childhood responses, and the hand holding your crucifix trembles as you begin whispering wildly, feverishly: Lord-protect-me-lord-please-please-please.

At your pleas, the creature stops; it seems to notice your hand tightly fisted around the crucifix. Its cold, clammy hand peels at your fingers, and you let go with a numb lack of resistance. At the sight of the crucifix, you see it smile. Not cruel, exactly. But… smiling in pity. In condescension.

You whimper as it tugs at the necklace and easily drops it on the ground, as if it was just another trinket.

“You’re so helpless,” the creature says, looking down at you with its mild, condescending gaze.

You simply stare back, frozen in fear and unsure of what to do, what will happen, if you will die and how horrible it will be. You find yourself staring at its eyes, eager to avoid the bloody mouth. Its black eyes seem to dance with shadows; from far away, they were simply pure black, but up close you can see things in them. Shapes. Figures.

Taking advantage of your state, the creature gently traces the outline of your jaw with the pad of its fingers, carefully avoiding slicing open your skin.

“And you know it… don’t you? That’s why you wear that necklace, that’s why you cross your fingers when you walk by a graveyard…” His voice is soft, almost soothing.

His words make your voice return, if only to express your terror-soaked confusion. “How--how did you know that I cross my fingers…” You don’t finish, swallowing thin amounts of saliva. You want water.

The creature tuts, and traces a finger softly down to your neck. Your entire body shudders. “I’ve known everything about you since the moment I saw you. An entire lifetime in a few seconds. Such a short life… you go from dust to dust in no time at all, don’t you?”

You try to stutter out a response, but you suddenly feel its sharp nail piercing your neck and the pain stops your thoughts. “No--” you say, thin and sad and mortal. “Please, I don’t want to die.”

It tilts up your chin with a bloody nail. Your eyes are drawn to its dark eyes, and the swirling shapes within, as it smiles. Its fangs are still bloody.

“You won’t die, dear. You’ll see… when I finish, you’ll see..”

You don’t have time to ask what he means before he lunges towards your neck, biting into the soft flesh with sharp, jagged fangs. You cry out, disbelieving, startled by the pain and the sudden feeling of cloth wrapped tightly around your limbs, keeping you stock-still as he tore into your throat. 

The smell of blood enveloped your nostrils and the sickening realization that it was your blood, your life force, being sucked down greedily strikes you as terribly cruel. The sensation of hot liquid dribbling down your neck does nothing to lessen the thought. 

The pain never lessens, but your energy seems to fade, bit by bit, as he feasts on you. Your mind feels fuzzy and you briefly begin to pray inside your head, over and over; something you used to say before bed as a child, giving you a frenzied sense of peace as your vision starts to blacken. But your prayers are interrupted by the creature’s low voice.

“No need for that, dearest. Drink.”

You can’t lift your head to ask him what he means. Drink? You want water. You open your mouth.

Instead he shoves his wrist, open and bleeding, onto your gasping face. You unwillingly swallow the thick red substance; instead of iron, you taste sweet, beautiful relief. But with it comes what the creature meant when he said “you’ll see.

Because you do see, then. You see the vampire’s life, hundreds of hundreds of years, rushing by like a moving picture. You see thousands of victims, dead and lifeless, dropping to the ground when he’s finished with them. 

You see dozens of others, men and women, petted and bitten and turned into creatures of the night. You see them kept and coddled, bound by blood and sometimes chains; you feel their bitterness and elation and even, sometimes, love for their maker. You feel his love for them, his pity and control and his frustration when they fight him.

But most of all you feel the weight of eternity, pressing upon you from all sides. There would be no death, from accident or old age, for you; no decaying body rotting inside a wooden coffin as cities are built on top of you; no crumbling into dust, no fading away. Only life eternal, surrounded by darkness and doomed to kill forever.

You feel your soul withering away as you black out; the last feeling being the sense of the creature--your maker, you realize, your maker--carrying you in his arms.

“We’re damned to live forever with no release, no end.”

[babbushka]

If it’s an option to have Flip give you his dick in a box, please sign me up! I’d love to request that for a holiday prompt, if you’re willing! Thank you! 🖤🖤🖤

(1.6k, NSFW (blow job/face-fucking, grinding/boot riding, fingering & comeshot), okay I have over a dozen requests for this now lmao. This is crack and it’s all @safarigirlsp & @lumberjack00fantasies fault !)

You come home from running a couple errands to find that Flip’s truck is already parked in the driveway. That was strange, you thought, because he wasn’t supposed to be home for a few more hours. For a minute, you wonder if everything’s okay, if something had happened at work for him to be home so early, but then you figure no, he would’ve called you if it were something serious. Shifting the big brown paper bag of groceries onto your hip as you close and lock the door, you hear a sort of rustling coming from the blackness of the living room.

“Flip?” You call, stepping out of your shoes and setting your bags down.

“In here ketsl.” Your husband’s smooth deep voice sounds from the living room where you heard the rustling, and you put your hands on your hips as you walk through the foyer.

“Honey why is it so dark in here?” You’re confused, but the moment that you step down into the sunken living room, the fireplace roars to life.

Your eyebrows shoot up, because illuminated by the fire, lying on his side on the plush shag carpet in all his glory is your husband. He’s dressed boots and all, got one of his hands propping his head up, but the other is holding a very…strategically placed present in front of his crotch.

“Hey, honey-bunny. I got something real important to give you.” Flip winks, “So, just sit down.. and listen.”

You take a seat on the couch, knowing that whatever he’s got planned, is certain to be the start of a wild evening.

Flip reaches over to the record player and drops the needle, and all of a sudden a groovy tune starts to play, something smooth and slow and sensual, and he clears his throat.

“Baby, you know we been together, such a long, long time…” Flip begins to sing, and your brows have a hard time coming back down to Earth, because your man hasn’t sung unprompted since the summer of ’67.

“Uh huh,” You try your very best not to laugh at whatever the fuck he’s doing.

“…And now I’m ready, to lay it on the li-ine.” Flip continues, in that deep deep voice of his that has you wondering if he’s pranking you. “You know it’s Christmas, and my heart is open wide, I’m gonna give you something, so you know what’s on my mind.”

“Did – when did you have time to rehearse this?” You look around, wondering if Jimmy is going to pop out from behind the couch with a video camera or something, but Flip gets up, holds the present as he saunters over to you while you continue, “We don’t celebrate Christmas.”

He takes a step to the beat, his hips swaying along.

“It’s a gift that’s real special, so take off the top.” He stops in front of you and his hips cant towards you as he encourages, “Take a look inside…”

You pull the ribbon off of it, and lift the lid and your hand flies up to your mouth because: “That’s your dick, in a box.”

Flip looks so pleased with himself, so pleased with this present of his, that he has to physically restrain himself from fist-bumping the air. You have no idea what’s gotten into him, he’s never done anything like this before – did he lose a bet?

Flip’s song isn’t over though, and now that you’ve seen his big gift, his hips buck along to the music as he continues to serenade you;

“Not gonna get you a diamond ring, that sort of gift don’t mean anything. I’m not not gonna get you a fancy car, girl, you gotta know you’re my shining star. Not gonna get you a house in the hills, a girl like you needs something real. I want to get you something from the heart, something special, girl.” Flip closes his eyes and lets himself feel the music, before pointing to his cock, “That’s right, it’s my dick in a box.”

He’s looking at you, eager for your reaction, and you realize he’s being earnest.

The music keeps playing as you reach inside the box, wrap your hand around his hard dick. How long has he been hard to keep it up? When did he come home and set all this up? You have a million questions, but all of them fly out the window when you shimmy the box off his cock, the proud curve of it nearly smacking you in the face.

Without saying anything, you lick a fat stripe up his shaft, and Flip pitches forward just a little, not expecting you to dive right in.

“Do you like it?” Flip asks, wagging it in your face, making it smack lightly at your cheek.

“You’re insane,” You firmly grasp his hard hard cock, making his whole evening when you laugh out, “But yes, I like it.”

You like it so much in fact, that you want it in your mouth immediately. Your tongue runs over the thick bulging veins as you slink off the couch and land on your knees on the carpet. The box with the huge hole on the side of it resting on the floor nearly takes you out of the sexy mood, but then Flip’s hand scratches against your scalp, and you look up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

You suck at the head of his cock, watching him bite at his lip, watching his chest start to heave from how hard he’s breathing. He must’ve been edging himself for ages, and you didn’t want him to have to wait anymore.

“Oh fuck.” Flip groans out as you begin unbuttoning your blouse. From his angle above you, he can see straight down your bra, your cleavage pushed together from your pretty bra.

You only smile a little, before letting your eyes close, head bobbing up and down over his cock. Your hand makes up for the few inches you can’t fit just yet, your spit lubing it up enough that the slip and slide is easy on his shaft.

“Mmm,,” Jerking him off and sucking his cock, you moan around him, and that makes Flip’s grip on your hair a little harder.

He shuffles closer to you, his jeans falling down his strong thighs just a little bit from no longer being held up by the box. There’s something so fucking hot about Flip with his jeans open, that dark happy trail scruffy over the tense muscle of his stomach. You take more of his cock down your throat, your other hand moving to rub against his thigh.

“I’m gonna fuck you hard tonight baby,” Flip promises, holding your head steady as he thrusts in and out of your throat, and you try your best not to choke on him, “Gonna make you fuckin’ scream with this cock.”

You only moan and nod, your pussy starting to clench and drip in your panties. If Flip is getting off, you don’t see any reason that you shouldn’t either, so you pull his leg forward and begin to grind your hips against the shiny toe of his new boots that you got him for Hanukkah this year.  

“Jesus ketsl.” Flip grunts as you moan from the friction on your pussy, your clit throbbing. His thrusts speed up, until he’s fucking your face on auto-pilot, hips seeking the tight clutch of your throat, “You’re gonna come like this? Just like this? My cock down your throat?”

“Mmmmhmmm,” You take whatever he gives you, focusing on your own pleasure, on the way he pushes his foot up onto his heel and gives you a better angle to undulate your hips down onto his boot.

Your hands have an iron grip on his jeans, your eyes watering from the sheer overwhelming feeling of his cock down your throat, your pussy desperate to be filled the same way. He had promised, but you want it now, want to be fucked hard now.

“I’m – fuck, I’m going to come.” Flip’s stomach flutters and tenses in front of your face, and you know he’s close. You prep yourself for the taste of his come, but he shakes his head, practically drools all over himself as he watches your breasts bounce, “Gonna come all over these perfect tits.”

Only a few moments later, he’s pulling out of you carefully, and you gasp down harsh breaths, your throat raspy.

“Shit,” Flip spills himself all over your cleavage, watches as it splatters and lands on your flesh, the hot white ropes sticky. He sighs and shudders out his pleasure, reveling in the debauchery of it all.

“Get me off? Please?” You’re close too, your panties smearing your slick all over his boots, desperate for him, for anything he’ll give you.

Flip pushed you gently onto your back and shoves his hand into your soaking wet panties, thrusts three of his fingers into your aching pulsing cunt, one thumb on your clit and fingers you hard and fast until your thighs are trembling, toes curling, back arching out your orgasm.

He collapses down next to do, the both of you spent…for now.

The fireside crackles steadily, the record player having finished its song long ago. That damn box is still lying on the floor, the half-hazardly cut hole in the side reminding you of all this all started in the first place.

You break out into bright laughter, and Flip joins in, the both of you covered in come and sweat and filled with absurd joy. He certainly was something, your husband, you grin into his armpit as he hugs you close.

And even though you don’t really celebrate this holiday, you can’t help but think that maybe it was okay, just this once.

[makbarnes]

A/B/O Bucky

“All I am asking is for you to stay with me in the lab today little sister, Don’t you remember the great times we used to have down in my lab at all hours of the night. You always eating cookie dough by the tub.” Tony pulled out a big spoon with a tub of chocolate chip cookie dough and you chewed her lip in excitement. Tony for some reason wanted to keep you in his sight at all times today. You brushed it off as you ripped the lid off of the container and watched Tony work. Omega Siblings were rare but not unheard of. In fact some people would consider it to be a miracle that Stark had two Omegas with super human smarts then two Alphas with a taste for blood. Tony always protected you and since he had joined the Avengers, you had earned a strong Alpha brother in law, new friends and the safest place in the world to live. It helped that you got to save the world. Tony had come up with the Iron Man suit to secure his spot on the Avengers. You always saw him working on new equations with Banner or going off to Steve about how his experiment went wrong. You remembered the night Tony found out about your abilities. They became apparent when your first heat came on. Things flew all around your room and burst through the walls. Your life changed that night and from then on you was an Avenger. Tony and Steve helped train you and Natasha helped focus and not let an Alpha enemy take advantage of her in the field. You smiled reminiscing over memories of you and Tony side by side in the field.Taking down enemies and guarding each others back.

“{Y/N}?! Hello!?” Shaking your head you knocked herself out of the memories you saw  Tony holding his hands under her mother’s picture. “Reminsining again?” You shook your head in response and took another spoonful of dough into your mouth. Purring happily on top of Tony’s desk you watched him intently as he typed a new code into a screen and went over to run a simulation. As you adjusted your oversized tee around your neck and dug deep into the container for a chocolate vein that ran down into the middle. 

“I’m gonna go grab a soda.” Tony rushed over to the door and stood in front of you. 

“Why don’t I ask...uhm...Adam to get us some hmm?” Tony tapped the glass and you saw a scrawny suited agent go up the stairs. Huffing softly towards him you went back to the dough for another spoonful. 

“Tony?” You stabbed the spoon into the dough and walked over to his table. Tony’s eyes darted back and forth and you took in a deep sigh. “I need to know why you are keeping me down here.” Tony blew air past his lips and asked you to hand him a wrench. “Do not change the subject. You are usually all over Steve at this time, I can’t even leave the room? And when have you ever willingly given me a sugar rush?” Tony ran his fingers through his hair and leaned against his desk. “Fine. But you are staying away from him. Steve’s old friend Barnes is moving in tonight and I don’t want you near him. He killed our parents.” You rolled her eyes and threw up your hands.

“Ever wonder why I don’t have a mate?!” Tony shrugged his shoulder in reply as you growled loudly next to him. “You never let me. If I want to get knotted I'm damn well going to. This isn’t about who it is, its about me being an Omega and him being an Alpha. Mom was the same way, you got to go out with guys but no your sister has to stay home and learn how to do things around the house for her Alpha. Tony can go spend the night, Tony can go to the mall, Tony can do this. Even when I did get to do things, its Tony watch your sister, Tony keep her safe. Even now on missions, I’ve noticed it.I was very reluctant to move into this place. You let me have freedom and I didn’t think this was still an issue. I thought you saw me for the grown Omega I really am. Excuse me!” You rushed out of the room and up the stairs to your private room. Hearing Steve coming around the corner you quickly moved into a dark corner and waited, Ready to give Tony’s Alpha a piece of your mind. Seeing his shadow come across the floor you got into an attack position. Holding your breath you saw his broad shoulder come over the edge of the wall and threw your hand out to catch his shoulder but your throat was met with a metal hand clenched around it and your head made a dent in the concrete wall. Hearing a low dominant growl in your ear you felt a shiver go down your spine and felt your instinct take over. The smell of Peppermint, Cinnamon, Rose clouded your mind and you purred instinctively.  

“Buck! Put her down! That’s {Y/N}. She’s Tony’s sister and isn’t supposed to be here.” Steve shook Bucky’s shoulder but his eyes were connected to your own and you felt as if you were flying. Feeling your feet fill with pressure, You caught the wall and shyly smiled. You could feel Bucky’s stare as you froze in place. Peering your eyes up, you chewed her lip at the controlling look in his eyes. You felt Steve pick her up from the floor and you could soon feel Bucky’s hot breath on your face. 

“Omega.” His deep voice sent a heat between your legs and you pulled them together. 

“Alpha.” You flirted back while inhaling deeply and felt yourself melting at his scent.Your  knees felt weak and you could feel your breath getting caught in your throat. You felt the world stop and it was just you and Bucky. His crystal like eyes bore into your own and everything slowed. 

“Steve! I said keep him away!” Steve gripped Bucky’s arm and dragged Bucky away from your sight. You cleared your throat as Tony moved you towards your  room.. Feeling the rest of the world come back into view you could hear Tony’s complaining. 

“You stay here. I yelled at Steve to protect you and if he asks I’m blaming you!” Tony slammed your door and heard him punch in a keycode in locking the door from anyone but him. 

“You can’t keep me locked away like some princess who needs rescuing!” You sighed as you flopped back onto the bed and thought about Bucky’s scent that was stuck in your nose.Keeping yourself busy Your mind kept thinking about how ripped Bucky was under the black tank top he had stretched over his muscles. You felt his scent leaving your memory and quickly hit out a little hole you had in the wall behind your headboard. Taking out a small welding pen you sawed through the bolt that was holding the door to the wall and quietly caught it. Looking closely at the doorway you  noticed two similar dots and snickered under your breath. Tony was always so predictable. You hopped over the threshold and followed the way you remembered Steve pulling Bucky in. Tapping your watch you checked the main areas with F.R.I.D.A.Y.S cameras and smiled as you found Bucky curled over a pillow rocking back and forth next to Steve. You quickly checked your surroundings and made your way to the bottom floor lobby. You could smell Bucky’s scent from the end of the hallway and felt your eyes dilate as if it was instinct. You controlled a little metal decor square off of a back table and threw it down the hall for Steve to leave the room. As he heard the thump he motioned something to Bucky and left down the hall. You took your chance and quickly moved into the room and jumped over the back of the couch to sit next to Bucky. Sniffing near him your felt your eyes roll into your head and bit your lip hard. Bucky didn’t move but you could tell he was holding himself back. 

“Hi.” You cleared your throat and watched his muscles relax a bit.

“Steve said you were Stark’s sister?” Bucky’s voice was breaking from how hard he was holding back his instinct. Your scent of Honey, Rose and Lemon clouded Bucky’s senses and he couldn’t help but growl softly towards you. 

“Does that matter?” You adjusted yourself closer to his neck and held your breath while your dark hair flowed over his shoulders. Bucky’s metal arm reverberated as he clutched the pillow. 

“I killed your parents. Tony would kill me. I can’t!”

“Yes you can.” You moved closer to Bucky and saw his jaw clench. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“You won’t…I promise.” You pulled his face to look at you. Moving his hair out of his face you smiled brightly and slowly moved the pillow away from his arms. 

“We share a scent…” Bucky pulled you closer to him as his eyes flicked to black. You moved until your lips were just inches apart. Watching his sight flick between your lips and eyes you sucked in your bottom lip and grinned. 

“Do you want to kiss me, Bucky?” You held his shoulders with your hands and felt his arms come around your hips. His flesh hand came up to cup your face and you leaned into his palm. He pulled your lips against his own and it felt like a fire had been lit in your soul. An immediate feeling of comfort and destiny filled you internally. You twisted your lips to catch a breath before returning. Adjusting your hips to rest on his lap 

“{Y/N}? Get out of here!” You gasped as Steve stood near you with crossed arms and rolled your eyes.  

“To the lab!” Tony clicked a button and the window closed on her wall. She changed her clothes quickly to get rid of any of Bucky’s scent on her and hurried down to the lab. Rubbing her eyes to make them look irritated and tired as if she had just woken up. Throwing her long hair in a bun she messed it up a bit as the door opened and she cleared her throat. 

Yawning as she entered the lab she stretched through the doorway to an obviously up-duped Tony. Steve adjusted his stance while she made her play and yawned in front of Tony as she took a seat. 

“What’s up bro? Need a smart brain to help you?” You avoided eye contact with Tony as she saw Steve come behind her. Tony snapped his fingers and she made eye contact with him. 

“I know that little stunt was to piss me off but you seriously have Barnes messed up. He can’t have such a strong Omega near him right now and We knew you could set him off.” Steve moved around the chair she was sitting and grabbed her brother's shoulders.

“Well that’s bullshit because I overheard you referring to Natasha training him tomorrow. So nice try. I’m guessing that you ran my biology with his own and tested how we would affect each other. Then you developed a plan to keep me down here and Steve stay with his “Best Friend”. Well Tony should have thought about bringing down some drinks beforehand or something or not forgetting that usually since Tony was born nine minutes before me I'm the youngest which also means I get what I want.” Makayla crossed her arms and turned away from them while smirking under her breath. She heard Tony growl with a quick reply from Steve, and felt the room's mood change and felt unsafe. 

“You two are mad I get it. Look I will stay away the best I can but he is going to have to deal with it because I live here too.” Tony nodded in agreement as she stomped away from the lab. Pouting her lips together and tapping her foot while she waited for the elevator. Scratching her head she felt her heart sink as the elevator doors opened and a shirtless Bucky with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders was revealed. She quickly checked behind her and moved in beside him. As the doors closed she heard his breath get heavy and his metal arm adjusted again. 

“Look, Tony said I have to stay away from you. I will do my best for a bit but I live here too and you aren’t about to change that.” She smirked his direction and suddenly felt herself pinned against the elevator wall. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. stop the elevator, cut the surveillance, Order by 32895.” She adjusted her breathing and chuckled down at him. 

“I don’t want you to stay away from me.” Bucky brushed his nose by her scent gland and she shivered against his hot skin. 

“I can’t hurt Tony like this. Bucky we are going to have to learn to deal with each other. You are intoxicating to me and I want to say yes...yes so fucking bad.” She cleared her throat as Bucky brought her feet to the ground and hovered over her face. His hair shielded most of the light from the lights and it was like the two were in a different world. She touched his stubble and he leaned into her touch. He nudged his nose along her neck and felt her knees buckle against him as his heavy breath hit her neck. She leaned her head over to open her neck to him wider as he buried his nose into her scent. “I want you.” Bucky clutched her tighter as F.R.I.D.A.Y alerted her to an elevator request from the Lab. She chewed her lip as she quickly hatched a plan. 

“Steve is going to check on you again, more than likely. I can send an alert to your room when the coast is clear and take my watch in your pocket, I can guide you to my room.” Gripping his face and whining into his hair, Bucky slowly released her as the elevator quickly shot up to the rooms and the two departed ways. Going to her room she quickly tossed some clothes away and made her bed. Grabbing her phone she setup a playlist over the speakers and kept it on pause. Checking her stock of contraceptives she shot yourself with a special contraceptive Tony had invented and winced at the pain of the needle.She relaxed back as she carefully watched the time pass by slowly. Sending a quick message through her watch she couldn’t help but worry if Bucky received it. 

(In Bucky’s room)

“Bucky you understand why you can’t engage her in any way. Tony will kill you” Bucky huffed as Steve explained the struggles.

“Why the fuck should he care. He’s already bonded. What, I can’t be happy?!” Steve sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Buck you know it’s not that. {Y/N}, she’s not for you. You can’t handle her like the Omegas in the past.” Bucky pushed Steve away and growled. 

“Those Omegas were bitches compared to what I sensed in the few shorts seconds I had.” Bucky felt his pupils dilate and he slammed his fist into a wall.  Steve growled towards him as a warning to calm down and he slammed himself against the bed. Steve smelled the gust of air that Bucky’s body had pushed towards him and he sighed in disappointment. 

“Where did you see her?” Bucky ignored the questioning Steve as he felt her small watch in his pocket start vibrating. He covered it with his hand and avoided looking at Steve. “Buck? Come on.” Steve leaned over him and heard a small beeping sound. “Bucky, you realize I hear that right?” Bucky shrugged his shoulders and Steve took matters into his own hands. Pushing Bucky’s hand out of his pocket when he saw her small watch band fall out of his closed hand. Steve ripped it away from him and asked for F.R.I.D.A.Y to call Tony to Bucky’s room. 

“You two are treating us like horny teenagers and I’m sick of it! {Y/N} is a consenting adult. I am a consenting adult. You two need to keep your dirty noses out of it.” Steve ignored Bucky’s comments and waited for Tony to knock at the door. 

While her watch had been discovered she had changed into a bright red silk robe with a black lace bodysuit. Chewing her lip she hit her phone and sent an alert to her watch. She unlocked her door and signed into the cameras facing next to her room. She adjusted herself in her hanging chair and watched Natasha, Thor, Sam and Wanda go into their rooms. She noticed Tony coming out of Bucky’s room. ‘Great he got yelled at too. Thanks for the ramming tonight then brother.’ She adjusted her hair while she watched the time speed by, she had yet to see Bucky come out of his room and wondered if Tony was really that scary. Sending another alert to her watch she pouted as there was no movement in the cameras. Everyone had gone to sleep it seemed and you were raging mad at Bucky. Was he ignoring your calls? Did something happen? Was he just trying to rut with me?  All of these thoughts clouded her mind until she cried herself into slumber. She doesn’t know what possessed her to cry, she just felt empty.

Let me know what you think and I can definitely post more.

[finitevoid]

fairytales for children with no souls, an addendum: a requiem for genevieve grimhilde. read the rest here.

grimhilde pets evie’s black hair and whispers to her. whispers to evie about auradon, about princes and kings and golden bejeweled crowns and velvet-silk-cashmere gloves that reach your elbows. and grimhilde dresses evie in soiled clothes hastily cleaned in a bathtub full of old bleach because its the best they have, and she pets her black hair and cooes when evie pulls on her best pair of cotton gloves.

evie’s favorite person in the whole world is her sister genevieve. genevieve has dyed-blue hair and brown eyes that glitter in the gray light of the island of the lost and evie wants to be just like her someday. to be as graceful, as cool and calm and collected as genevieve. she calls her sister “jenny” and her sister calls her “eve” and they whisper the nicknames like a well-kept secret.

grimhilde pets evie’s dyed blue hair and tells her things. “men don’t like to feel intimidated,” she tells her. “you must keep your intelligence close to your chest, where they cannot see it.” she brushes evie’s hair well into the night and helps her dye it blue with berries and chemicals wasted from auradon. “a man must think you are easily swayed. that you are soft, malleable. able to be molded.” and grimhilde’s eyes glint silver in the light as she whispers, “you must never let him know that he is the one being molded by you.”

men hold all the power, she is told. she must allow men to think they have power over her, when in reality, they do not. she must marry a prince and turn him into a puppet-on-a-string. she will whisper ideas into his ear with such ease he thinks they were his own. she will be the one to order trade, to begin wars, to control the populace, all by pulling a silly man’s face close to her’s and effortlessly swaying him to her ideas. all the power with none of the glory. she must marry a prince, a powerful prince. so that when he is crowned ruler, the true king, controlling the kingdom from the shadows? is evie.

jenny never talks about princes or kings or riches and power. jenny always talks to evie about fairytales. she reads storybooks to her and points at the drawings waterlogged pages. but evie never cares about the drawings, no. she listens to jenny describe the perfect world of auradon, with its rich colors and thriving wildlife. she seems to spin the image of fields and fields of flowers in the air, uses her voice to create the picture of the richest of red apples, held to perfect lips and ineffably poisoned.

jenny has never met snow white, but evie can tell that she wants to. “she’s our sister, in a sense,” she explains. “she’s a queen now... living with her prince charming in auradon.”

“have you ever been to auradon?” evie asks, because she is still young and naive and thinks that such a thing is possible.

jenny’s laugh is like bells, but her eyes are drooping with sadness. “no, eve.” she continues to smile, despite the tenseness in her shoulders. jenny smiles through it all. whenever grimhilde rages at them, screams at her own reflection, jenny would hold evie close and hum a lullaby in her ears, smiling.

she smiles at the boy next door, who had sullen brown eyes and curly salt-and-pepper hair when he comes to their tower with blood spilt all over himself. his name is diego, and jenny would smile as she tended to his wounds. would smile as she cupped his face when traitorous tears fell, and that was always when evie left to go spend time in the garden, granting them privacy.

jenny tried so hard to keep up their garden. “we’re witches,” she told evie, once, a hand-woven basket hung over her arm as she stood over the meager flower bed. “it’s customary we keep a garden.”

it was mostly weeds, but jenny would stay out in the garden until late at night, pressing her hands together in fruitless prayer and desperately trying to call upon magic she didn’t have to make flowers grow. “we are supposed to be connected to nature,” jenny whispered, once. fell on her knees beside the flower bed, wiping tears as they fell down her cheeks. “we are supposed to be one with life.”

evie did not say that their mother was hardly “one with life” when she poisoned snow white with an apple. maybe we are cursed, evie thinks. cursed by nature to never grow another flower, for our mother’s sins. she forsook life, and so it forsakes her in return.

but her theory is dashed when, one day, a single flower peeks through the sea of weeds. it is white, and fragile, its veined petals swaying in the hot, garbage-smelling breeze. “you are like this flower,” jenny told her. holding her close, her voice was hoarse with something like terror, her chapped lips pressed to evie’s temple. “beauty among garbage.”

“if that is the analogy,” evie replied, conerned by her sister’s distress. “then you are more like this flower than I.”

and jenny began to weep, sobs shaking her shoulders as she cried. evie tried to wipe her sister’s tears, but they continued to fall, cascading down her face and plonking onto the white flower’s petals.

the tears watered the flower, and after that day, it grew another bud.

“who is the fairest of them all?” grimhilde asks, and it is a question she has asked a million times before, but there is something different, now. something metal in her voice, something cold in her eyes. genevieve has graduated highschool and evie has only just started it, and they stand at attention in the dining room like soldiers, their hands held behind their backs.

“you.” genevieve says, and there is a cruelty in the way she says it, rage hanging around her shoulders, a cold undercurrent in her tone. “it will always be you.”

grimhilde takes a step toward genevieve, and grips her chin in her fingers. “remember your place, girl.” she says, all haughty pride and cool rage. “i put you into this world, and don’t you ever forget that.”

“you are the fairest.” genevieve says. “i don’t want to be the fairest.” her voice breaks on the word ‘want’.

“yes,” grimhilde murmurs. “i will be.”

evie doesn’t remember what she did that night. but she woke up to the iron smell of blood. clouds and smog covered the sky outside her window.

jenny was covered in the iron-steel-tang of hot-red-maroon blood of her own throat. her own gore covered her nightgown and the bedsheets, staining them so thoroughly it would never wash out. her throat was- was cut, torn, shredded, destroyed. her throat was a gaping open wound, still oozing gore. a dagger sat next to her sister’s face, glinting in the candlelight. her eyes stared dully at the ceiling, unseeing. her face was purely and utterly blank.

diego de vil helps bury her, next to her flower bed.

evie does not weep. she is not wracked with sobs. she is not consumed with despair like the pretty perfect doll princesses of the storybooks.

she is filled with a white hot, all-consuming, vicious rage. she shakes with the force of it. it burns beneath her skin, lighting up her core like magma, like lava, like fire, slow-moving and murderous. the rage is agony, burning, powerful agony. it fills her from the inside, fills her up, up, up, until she cannot contain its burning, and it pours out of her from every angle like vomit. but instead of snarling and shouting, she smiles. she forces her muscles to tense into that of a disarming smile, never letting it fall, never letting it falter.

evie takes the dagger used to murder her sister and sets onto the town. she asks around, finds out who grimhilde paid to do the deed, and she finds him. in a backwater house somewhere in downtown, and she sinks his own dagger into his throat as he sleeps. he awakes with a gurgle, stares up at her in horror, and then dies in his own bed. covered in his own gore, his sheets stained so red it would never wash out.

flowers bloom over jenny’s grave, and evie spits on them. how dare they only bloom after jenny died covered in her own gore. how dare they ignore her prayers, her cries, her tears, only to appear over her corpse. how dare they take suffering so violent and disgusting and turn it into something beautiful. jenny deserved for the world to be bathed in the same suffering she felt in her last moments. parasites, the damn things are, evie thinks. feeding on her corpse for nutrients. sucking up what little is left of genevieve grimhilde.

there was no peace, no beauty. only agony. hot, burning suffering. evie would make the world feel her sister’s agony one person at a time if she had to. she would make herself feel the agony of her sister’s suffering. she would suffer, in her honor. in her memory.

(it was the least evie deserved.)

evie smears snow white’s storybook in red. she covers it in the red stain until evie can taste the iron and she sinks the dagger into the pages again, and again, and again. she slashes and rips and tears until nothing is left but puply, bloodstained scraps of paper. she dumps the mangled storybook over the flowers, and prays to any god that deigns to listen that it kills them.

it does not. the flowers flourish, the only garden on the isle. they grow high above the gore, absorb the paper and iron-steel-tang-hot-red-maroon blood into their veins and grow higher, and higher. they tower over evie’s reach, dancing in the breeze and reaching toward the sky. reaching for escape, in auradon. evie spits on them.

“who is the fairest of them all?” grimhilde asks, gray sunlight filtering in through the windows.

evie forces her face muscles to tense into that of a smile, hands clutched dutifully in front of her. “you, mother.” she tugs the smile a little wider, a little happier. “always you.”

grimhilde fixes evie with an appraising expression, until her wrinkled, aging face curls into a cruel smile. her face, stained permanently from bleach being smeared on it, stretches and tugs into a wicked smirk. “you hate me, darling.” grimhilde chuckles. “and you should. your smile is perfect.”

she pets evie’s dyed-blue hair as she passes, dress swishing around her ankles, her other arm flourishing. “nobody will be any the wiser, if you use that smile. you make a perfect grimhilde, indeed.” she whispers.