#but i hope you liked my response anyhow. i tried really hard to further the really good and i think important point you were making-

[brutalmasks]

' it's quite funny how the world works. suddenly, killing makes you a villain if you're not some high end fancy pants ordering men to die in the name of honour. a flag is a stupid think to waste your life over, but, it's made glorious and beautiful and honourable. nobody tells you about the rage that comes with it, with the understanding that war is man-made violence and, therefore, it isn't a part of the natural cycle of life and death. '

bunny mask's first thought when the other first began speaking that the other had a very powerful way of commanding her attention; a trait that bunny mask herself found interesting, for this meant whoever possessed it oozed confidence, in her opinion. and although the spirit herself would willingly listen to anyone given the chance, it made her wonder about who this woman beside her was already. or what all she had experienced, as it were, since life events seemed to often have a tendency to shape who you are. bunny mask was clad in her usual attire at the moment; her mask in the shape of a rabbit obscuring the upper part of her face completely, with only wide slits cut out of it near the top to accommodate her glaring white eyes, and the dress she wore a nearly pristine looking white color.

and i say nearly because of the soot that was smeared across her collar. however, she thought she knew what she was getting into whenever she followed the sight of smoke in the distance, so this was of little importance to her: what was important to bunny mask was seeing if anyone needed her help here. it was usually a bad sign whenever a deep, dark smog that screamed ' fire ' had created a wall of it's own in the sky. but it turned out that she was wrong. this place was clearly pillaged and completely torn apart brick from brick, as the places that people used to call home were reduced to piles of wood scorched by embers. a thick layer of ash seemed to have formed in the midst of the landscape, and bunny mask could feel in her gut that something terrible had happened here.

perhaps as part of a war, as mya highlighted. the spirit could feel her heart drop while the other described her perspective on the sometimes militaristic and bleak nature of humanity. no, was it her experience? bunny mask thought that the way she phrased her words made this all sound very personal. a frown tugged at her lips as she bent down to touch the ash, letting it run through her fingers. mya was right — this was nothing to be proud of. she looked up at the other from the side, then, and spoke, ❝ you are right. i sincerely hope you were not here to witness what had happened here, for that would be a horror that you would likely never forget. but the men who do things like this, who ordered their own to risk their lives to ruin other's; they simply refuse to think they are the villains of anyone's story because they believe they are doing it for a noble purpose. though they are certainly not. ❞

bunny mask stood up and took a deep breath as she surveyed the land before her. there looked to be no survivors here, so the people here were either all killed, or maybe some had escaped. the latter might've been wishful thinking but bunny mask wanted to have some hope that this place was not turned completely into a mass grave, ❝ was that what this conflict was born from? the excessive pride of a nation, who are of the mind that they're righteous and good, but commit barbaric acts such as this one? ❞ she had to tell herself to take a deep breath now or she would likely lose herself to anger. and that would not be a pretty sight, for neither her, nor the other who stood just an arm's length away from her. in and out. bunny mask could feel the claws of her right hand dig into her palm as she took a moment to inhale, then exhale, but she didn't care.

everything about this was wrong. bunny mask let her eyes become half-lidded with the sense of sorrow that had come over her suddenly, like a tidal wave. it was just as she feared. mya had experienced this for herself, ❝ it is not natural. that, i must agree with. i am of the belief that we are fated to leave this world at a specific time and the lives of the humans that died in this town were stolen. they still had much to experience, to love. and from what i am hearing, you were forced to partake in the wrongful robbing of people's lives yourself, were you not? through war. an organized form of slaughter, glamorized to appear necessary by the masses, where there is no true victor. where everyone loses something and you are left feeling full of rage because of what you were coerced to do. ❞

the chill running through bunny mask's bones only intensified when she saw it on the ground. a doll, abandoned by it's owner, within the ash. bunny mask's voice became low, ❝ i am sorry. i am... so sorry. ❞

[orphicrose]

I love love love your recent fic so amazing!! Just kinda got me thinking what about Sean x best friend reader, two peas in a pot, made for each other bur also kinda complete opposites. I think about "till the end of the line" from the musical the theory of relativity. When separated the two of them are complete opposites but when together they have the best time etc. And Sean meeting the reader randomly, maybe because he heard someone use the reader's last name and it's just a really unique lastname so he kinda knew it was his best friend. And obviously he bring his friend back to camp. The reader would be really smart and maybe actually a good shot but rather quiet and always stand behind Sean in any social interaction. Thinking about "excuse me he asked for no pickels"

Anyway, i hope you can understand what i mean, have a great day

Brothers in Arms (Sean x Male!Reader)

W/C: 1.4K

Summary: Sean and reader are platonic soulmates, meeting after sean gets lost. He returns the favor when Y/n is kidnapped by the pinkertons.

Note: This is very short, and I honestly didn't have a straight idea for this one since I've never written for Sean before. But i tried my best! I do apologies if its nothing that you had in mind.

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

"A lively one you are, eh?" A soft chuckle echoed next to him. Guns out at the ready as they hid in an alley. Away from the law. "Shut up" Y/n bit back at the firey Irishman.

The annoying man was about to open his gob again before y/n slapped a hand over it, steadying their breathing as a police officer walked passed. A sigh of relief left y/n's lips as they went unnoticed.

"If we are going to make it out alive, you are going to need to be quiet, yeah?" Sean nodded in response, pulling y/n's hand away from his mouth.

They made their escape, running from the alley through the streets of blackwater. Making their way to the horses hitched up to a lamppost, and rode like their lives depended on it. Because it did.

"What's you're name then?" Seans voice echoed over the hooves hitting the ground.

"Y/n! I'm taking it you're name is Sean?" He shouted back

"How did you know?" Sean chuckled as he caught up to him.

"Because the Butcher you were robbing from seemed to think you were a regular in there. Did your parents never tell you not to rob the same place twice?"

Their horses began to slow to a trot as they got further away from the area, coming up to tall trees now.

"Did your parents never tell you not to interfere with someone elses robbery?" Sean's horse bumped into y/n's.

"You were doing a poor job. Someone had to help you." The two laughed, finally lightening up from the mess they left a mile behind them. "Where are we going anyhow?"

"My temporary camp at this abandoned shack i found. It's not far." The reins on Sean's horse were raised, and smacked back down. Picking up the pace again, but only lasting for a few minutes before he halted abruptly outside a small wooden home.

"Temporary?" Y/n continued the conversation, now dismounting the horse and hitching it up to a tree.

"Lost me posse. Don't ask me how, but I know they are around here somewhere." He opened the door of his home and invited the man in, sitting himself down on the only chair in the building.

"Uh huh"

"So for now, I'm stuck ere. " Sean motioned around him, pulling out his gun and inspecting it closely. A shot of spit came from his mouth, as he used it to clean his gun with his sleeve. "If you help me find them, I'll reward yous"

"What? With meat that I just helped you steal?"

"No no no, you could join us. We need the numbers"

Y/n scoffed, leaning against a table. "Yeah, we will see."

"So you'll help?"

It wasn't hard to find them. They were a pretty large group, camped out in the middle of New Austin. Y/n found it quite funny as to how much Sean struggled. Their friendship grew rather fast, just clicking. Almost the same person split into two bodies. Dutch was hesitant to let him join, only because he didn't know how he could function with another Sean. But he allowed it. And everyone ended up adoring y/n. They are only an issue when they are actively with the Irishman.

Months passed after Sean was successfully reunited with the Van Der Linde's. But a boat heist in Blackwater split everyone up again. The gang making their way to colter, leaving Sean in the custody of the pinkertons. And y/n? No one knew where they managed to crawl off to. No one even knew if they survived the raid.

Dutch's survivors eventually made their way to horse-shoe overlook. A cozy little spot along the valentine cliff side, overlooking the streams and grassland. Finally on their feet enough to win Sean back, literally. Fighting head on with the detective agency, a risky task to follow through with. But they were successful, somehow. And Sean was back, safe and sound with his friends. Except one. The irishman refused to celebrate their small victory, till y/n was found.

"We don't even know if he survived sean" Arthurs voice raised to an annoyed tone. Not ever hearing the end of it.

"And if he is, we are just gonna leave him? What if hes hurt, huh?" Sean was reloading his rifle, and gathering a group of his things. Ready for the journey ahead. "Yous risked your life for me, why am i not allowed to do the same?"

Arthur remained quiet, looking at his feet and sighing. Then moving out the way of him. "Fina..." He grumbled. "But you're not going by yourself..."

"Why not?" "Because you'll get yourself killed" Arthur hoisted himself onto his brawny horse. "Charles! Lenny! We got something we need to do" He called out, the two men responding rather fast.

Sean felt a weight lifting off his shoulders as they all mounted their horses. The two agreeing to the task at hand. Clearly bored of lazing about camp for a while.

The group of four trailed their way along the coast of West Elizabeth. When it was clear of bounty hunters, they crossed. Caution with every trot. Sean led them deep into tall trees, confusing the group.

"Blackwaters that way" Lenny pointed East, Charles giving him a look of 'i don't know'.

"If he's alive, there is one place he will be" Sean's voice was the most serious he had ever been. Coming up to a small cabin isolated by a beautiful lake, surrounded by a blanket of leaves and sheltered trees.

"Y/n!" Sean repeated, jumping from the stallion and busting into the home, shoulder first. The other men heard laughter following the loud bang. "I knew it! Yous owe me!" They heard from inside.

"We saved your life, I think that's enough boy" Arthur shook his head, finding the enthusiastic Sean holding Y/n in a tight embrace. Y/n wincing in pain as his arms suffocated him.

"C'mon Sean, you're hurting him" Arthur pulled him away, surveying the injured man. "Y'alright, y/n?"

He nodded, gripping at his leg.

The group dragged the injured y/n back to camp, returning to a very warm welcome and open arms. Patting him on the back as he hobbled over to the medical cart.

"What did they do to ya?" Sean was rushing up behind y/n, chasing for answers.

Y/n winced as he perched on a barel, Susan tending to the gaping wound on his leg. "The same thing that happened to you, looking at the gaps in your teeth" Y/n managed to sneak out a forced laugh, pointing at his mouth. Sean scoffed and folded his arms.

"Leave me teeth alone you bastard" He took a seat next to his friend, smacking his leg to cause him some pain.

"We missed ya here"

"You mean you missed me here?"

A few days had passed since the safe return of y/n, and they seemed to become a lot more talkative with the other members of the group. More friendly. They had always kept to themselves, other than with Sean. But the near death experience, and the group risking their lives for him, gave him a new respect for his new family. A new sense of confidence that his life had meaning to others as well as him.

"Hows ya gammy leg?" Sean playfully pocked the barrel of his shotgun into y/n's back, unloaded of course. Y/n swatted at him, and turned back to his view of the muddy lake in front of their camp.

"Better, I can walk just fine now"

"Good, good" Sean took in the same view before speaking again. "Cause Mary-Beth has a coach tip.."

"There it is" Y/n throws an accusing look towards him.

"Theres what?" "The thing that you want from me"

"I just think getting out would be good for you!" Sean put his arms up in defence.

"Yeahh yeah, getting out and helping your sorry arse." Y/n struggled a little to find his way to his feet.

"C'mon gammy leg. You're such a better shot than me"

"I didn't say no, did i?"

[supercorpkid]

Once Upon a Time in…

Camelot

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Emma Swan x Reader, Regina Mills x Reader, Snow White x Reader, Prince Charming x Reader, Merlin x Reader, Morgana Pendragon x Reader.

Word Count: 3100.

Previously on the series - Neverland

“So I guess we’re going to Camelot.”

You look at Henry, not knowing what that means. Wait, Camelot. Legend of the sword? It can’t be it. They can’t be talking about that, right? But you look around, you see Snow White’s soft smile at you, the ‘Evil Queen’ appearing and disappearing with nothing but a purple fog around her. They are definitely talking about king Arthur, and Lancelot and the sword buried on the ground that no one could lift it.

“I need my bow and arrow.”

“And my sword!”

“We should take more than one magic bean.” How is it possible that you’re not even surprised about magic beans anymore?

It takes around fifteen minutes for everyone to be standing in the same place close to you, ready to go to Camelot. Henry nods his affirmation at you, and you almost feel bad for making all these people use a magic bean and go to a different world, just to ask a powerful wizard how to take you home. But then again, you really need to get back home. So, you’ll accept the help.

“We’re all ready?” Emma asks and you nod in agreement. “To Camelot!”

And to Camelot you go, through a magic bean, and dear Rao you can’t wait to tell Jamie this. She is never going to believe you.

When you get to Camelot, to the castle, Merlin is nowhere to be found. King Arthur -although he is not king yet, so- sends someone for him and all you can do is wait.

“Wait, wait! They’re here! My moms! They’ve come to pick me up!” You point out the window. Watching Lena, all dressed as she belongs in this story, walking by.

“No, I believe you’re incorrect, child. That’s Morgana.” Arthur says, making you even more confused. “She might look like someone you know. But there’s nothing in her heart that shall confuse you any further.”

“What happened to her?”

“What didn’t? That would be far more of an appropriate question. But this matter shall not be discussed any further, as Merlin should be returning to assist you.”

You look around. Snow, Charming, Emma and Regina are waiting on Merlin for a solution. And you want it too. You need to go back home, but-

You look out the window again. To where you saw ‘Morgana’. She looks just like your mother. You can’t help yourself from sneaking out of the room in a flash. You think you’ve left unnoticed. You’re wrong.

“Hey, where are you going?” Henry yells at you and you finally stop. You look behind and see him running towards you. “Merlin is coming. He is your chance to go home.”

“Henry, I know what I saw, ok? That woman, she-she looks just like my mom. Don’t you think that’s a crazy coincidence?”

“She could be using magic to trick you.”

“Yeah, she could.” You agree with your head, but don’t turn back. Henry stands beside you, looking like he’ll follow you if you decide to go. “I have to.”

“Wait, before you go.” He takes an enormous book out of his backpack. “Maybe you should read her story first. See what you’re dealing with.”

“Do you just carry this monstrosity everywhere?” You ask while he places the book in your hands.

“Just read it.” He flips through some pages, and you use your super speed to read faster.

“Huh.” You put the book down, furrowing your brows. Henry has the same expression. “Her story is-is like my mom’s.”

“How come?”

“She is an illegitimate daughter of someone powerful, raised as if she wasn’t family at all. She was good.” You open the book again to show it to him. “Then she was betrayed by Merlin! Her friend. He knew she had magic and thought she would become evil, so he tried to poison her. And that is what turned her evil.”

“Oh, is your mom evil? Mine was too!”

“No. That’s the thing. My mom, she had her moments, but she redeemed herself. My mom was always supposed to fall into the light. But Morgana-”

“Is supposed to be the darkness to Merlin’s light.” Henry finishes reading the sentence back to you.

“Don’t you get it? She wasn’t evil. She doesn’t have to be evil. If we can save her then-”

“Then what?”

“I don’t know.” You breathe deep. “I don’t know, but maybe that’s the reason why we’re here. Because heroes need to save. And Morgana needs saving.”

“Maybe we should call the rest of the family.” Henry says looking to where his mothers are.

“There’s no time. There she goes.” You watch Morgana going inside the woods. “MORGANA!”

“It’s High Priestess to you.” She turns around and you look at her. You really look at her. There’s no kindness in her face. “What do you want?”

“I wanna help you.” You give one step forwards, shielding Henry with your body.

Morgana looks at you, she really looks at you, like she can see deep inside your soul. It’s so hard seeing her, as she looks just like Lena. And you wonder if Lena could have fallen into this dark path too. Why does one have to fall into the light, and the other into the darkness? What if things weren’t as black and white?

“This isn’t you. You were good. Kind-hearted. They’ve turned you into this, but you can fight it.”

“I don’t want to fight it. I want to embrace it.” Morgana gives you an evil grin. “I want power, I want to rule Camelot. Being good will take me nowhere.”

“You will never rule Camelot being evil.” Henry chimes in. “Haven’t you heard? Good always wins, so you will never take over Camelot like this.”

“You’re looking at this all wrong, kid. What do the good guys get in the end? A happy little family? Settling for dumb hopeful kids?” She scoffs and you know she is talking about you and Henry. Dumb hopeful kids. Ouch. “That’s not in my cards. I want something far greater, but you wouldn’t understand.”

You look back to Henry, exchanging a hopeless look. “Arthur was right. There’s nothing in your heart to confuse me.”

“Arthur being right? That would be a first.” She looks at Henry behind you, gives you a mischievous smile. “You don’t have to protect your brother. He doesn’t look powerful at all. You, on the other hand…”

“He is not my brother.”

“And I guess he won’t ever be, if you make the right choice.” She quirks one eyebrow at you looking amused. Your mind screams Lena. Your heart says otherwise. “You mistake me for someone else. I do not know why the person holds your heart like that, but I assure you, if you stand with me, you won’t need anyone else.”

“Why?”

“Because I can give you power. Beyond the one you have.” Morgana motions to the castle. “This entire kingdom shall be mine. Soon. It could be ours, if you wish.”

“Don’t do it.” Henry whispers behind you. You give one step forward, instead.

“I don’t want a kingdom. I want to go home.” You say, earning a smirk as a response.

“Great. I wouldn’t want to share, anyhow. Why don’t we make a deal? You help me take back what’s mine by right, and I’ll send you to wherever you want.”

“Another reality?”

“Don’t do it!” Henry speaks a little louder. Morgana’s eyes turn bright yellow, and she moves her hand, throwing Henry backwards, with nothing but that.

“Believe in me now?”

“Yes.”

“NO! DON’T DO IT!” You hear Henry’s yelps getting louder as you move closer to Morgana.

“Does he ever shut up?” She asks, eyes turning yellow again.

“Get away from her, Morgana!” You hear from your side and see a guy raising his sword at her. “She’s just a kid and has nothing to do with your desire for revenge.”

“Merlin.” She points out, nonchalantly. And you blink your eyes feeling yourself coming down from a weird dream. When you look behind yourself you see Snow with her bow and arrow ready to shoot. Charming is pointing a sword at her too. Regina’s hands are on fire. Emma also has white magic coming out of her hands. “I see you brought a cavalry. You always need it when you’re up against me.”

“Get away from the kids!” Emma yells from behind you.

“Too bad.” Morgana looks at you, ignoring everyone else. “I would’ve guessed you wanted to go home. Merlin cannot do that for you. You’ll be STUCK with them.”

Her words send shivers down your spine. And you cave, feeling like you should follow her because she is your only hope. You give one step forward again.

“Get away from her! You’re not the only evil witch in here.” Regina says, earning a sigh from Morgana.

“I see the decision was made for you.” She says while she leaves, as quickly as she appeared.

“Are you ok?” Snow runs to you, while Emma and Regina help Henry up. She touches your face looking for any bruises.

“She didn’t hurt me.” But your eyes are full of tears, and Snow can’t believe you’re not hurt.

“Come on.” She throws her arms around your shoulders and guides you back to the castle. “Merlin’s here now. He’ll help you.”

But she was wrong. Merlin can’t help you. So Morgana was right.

“Another protection spell around the city, you say?” Merlin seems to be considering the information. “I’m sorry to inform you that there are no shortcuts, and you must break this curse as you’ve broken the last one.”

“But we don’t know who started the curse this time.” Regina says.

“Then you must start there. But quickly. As long as she is in Storybrooke inside a curse, she’ll become part of the book. And then, she won’t be able to leave again.” Merlin has not even finished talking and you’re already crying. Storybrooke is nice but you can’t be stuck there. You have to go back home. “I apologize if my help wasn’t what you required.”

“It’s ok.” You sigh. Heart even heavier on your chest now. “I’m used to losing.”

“I have victories and I’ve losses-” Arthur puts his hand on your shoulder. “And I’ve learned that it’s the losses that require us to be brave.”

Sure, it makes sense. You know it’s true, you know you have to be brave. But his words don’t fix the ache in your heart and the emptiness in your stomach. You’re still a kid, stuck in a foreign city, with fairytale characters as friends. If the pain didn’t feel so real, you would’ve thought you were dreaming.

“Thanks.” You point to the door. “I’ll wait outside while you guys figure out how we’re leaving.”

You walk outside. Looking around to see if anyone is following you. It seems that this time Henry didn’t follow you, so you’re safe. You don’t want to help Morgana take over Camelot, especially not because she’s doing it for revenge. But she was right, Merlin can’t take you home. Maybe she is your only option. Maybe you have to do the dubious call so you can get back home to your moms, aunts, cousin, girlfriend-

One step forward.

Kara would never tell you to do the wrong thing, no matter how long it would take for her to see you again.

One step back.

But would she be right? Would it be fair for you to wait to get home and maybe never get back, because you couldn’t do what’s morally wrong even if it was for you to see them again? Maybe Lena would have told you to help Morgana. So you could get home to them and be safe and sound.

One step forward.

But then again, would she have wanted for you to fall into the wrong path because of them? Would she have liked to have that guilt hanging over her head?

One step back.

“You’re still here.” You hear Emma’s voice, and you look back at her. “I was sure you would be out in the woods looking for that woman.”

“So you stepped out to stop me?”

“You know she can’t be trusted, don’t you?” She ignores your question. You agree with your head. “But you’re still considering following her.”

“She might be my only hope to see my family again.” You bite your lower lip, holding your tears. “Henry told me a little about your story. Back when you were a kid, all alone in that universe. If someone could have brought you to your family, wouldn’t you have followed them?”

“I think I would.”

“Then you understand why I’m considering doing it.”

“Trust me, kid. I know what it’s like when others tell you what you can and can’t do, especially when you’re a kid. But ultimately, whatever you’re considering doing or giving up, the choice is yours.” Emma says and you shake your head, confused and lost. You weren’t expecting her to say that. You thought she would stop you immediately. It feels heavy, having a choice. “I know you have no reason to believe us, but we’re not going to stop until we can find a way to your home.”

“You won’t?” You ask, a lonely tear streaming down your face. Emma shows you her hand.

“We won’t.”

And so you take her hand. Leaving Morgana, and maybe your chance of getting home, behind you.

“Hey, are you two ok? We’re ready to leave.” Regina says and Emma looks at you, waiting for your response.

“Hmm, yeah. Sure. Let’s go back to Storybrooke.”

And you all come back. And everyone finds their way into what it seems to be the only diner in town, sharing a table like a big, happy family. And it doesn’t matter how welcome they are making you feel, your heart still aches, and you can’t be around them without being sad and without missing your own family.

So, you step outside, and sit alone on a bench watching leaves flying in the wind. Thinking about what Kara must be looking at right now; wondering if Lena has left her lab in days to see that it is Autumn already; asking yourself how long they will keep looking without success, because as long as there is a curse cloaking this city, they won’t find you.

“Hey.” You watch Snow White coming closer to you, she points at the space next to you. “Can I join you?”

“Sure.”

She sits next to you. “What has come over you?”

“Just thinking that I probably left my only chance of going back home behind.” You sigh, heavily.

“You might have.” Snow agrees with her head, and you look at her waiting for more, because this is not comforting at all. “But it was the right thing to do, and you know that too. Because heroes do what's right. Not what's easy.” You agree with your head, because you’ve heard that before. “You know, every time I look at you I see a very strong hero.”

“Thought you were going to say that you saw yourself when you were younger.” You smile, and she chuckles, denying.

“Oh no. When I was younger, I would’ve followed Morgana into the forest because it was easier. It would’ve been a mistake, because there are other paths – harder paths, and later I would’ve wished to have taken them instead. So, I don’t see me in you. I see someone far greater. But I guess you are a Superhero, huh?”

“Just-” You stop yourself. It’s insane that you’re about to open up to a fairytale princess. But she is here, she looks interested and most of all, she looks like she cares. “I’m not really a hero anymore. Being a hero is exhausting, Snow. We fight every day, and we get beat up, and we get scared. And what for?”

“For the ones who can’t fight for themselves.”

“So because I was born with these powers, I’m supposed to fight for everyone? I’m not supposed to choose what’s right and better for me? What if I want to be selfish?”

“Kid, I know you’re tired of what life has thrown at you.” Snow holds your hand, and you agree with your head, unable to get your words out. “But you still fight for the good every single day. Every time you have hope, and faith, and care, you’re fighting against darkness whether you mean to or not. You did that today with Morgana.”

“But I failed.”

“No, you didn’t fail. She did. Her darkness was too strong. But your light is still intact.” Snow cups your face gently, like a grandmother would. “Sooner or later you will find your way back into saving. Because being a hero is not what you do, but rather who you are.”

“But what if that is not who I want to be?” You ask, eyes filled with tears and fear.

“Oh, honey, but it is.” She gives you a soft smile that says it all. “The choices you make every day it’s what makes you who you are. If Henry was lost in-” She narrows her eyes, trying to remember.

“National City.”

“If he was out there all alone, wouldn’t you do everything in your power to bring him back home?” Snow asks, but she seems to know the answer already, before you even nod at her. “See, being selfish could have made your life a lot easier. But would you be able to live with yourself while doing that?”

“No.” You cry, thinking about your life. “I would probably feel sick, and empty, and-and I don’t think I would make it out of bed.”

Huh. Did you just have a therapy session with princess Snow White?

“See? You can try and run from it, but if it’s who you are then it will always catch up to you. Trust me, I’m familiar with heroes, and you are, for sure, one of us.”

“Indefinitely.” You think about not making home, being stuck in Storybrooke until someone finally lifts the curse. You don’t know how long that will be. You hope your moms don’t give up on finding you.

“For as long as you’ll have us.” Snow throws her arms around you, and you let yourself fall into her comfort.

Being away from your life will suck. But thank Rao, they are the ones you’re stuck with.

Notes:

Am I making a crossover with Supergirl, OUAT and Merlin? Yes, yes I am. And I have to thank @oncemoonie for the prompts. That was really fun

[ransomedrogue]

Tales of Woe - Scenes from S1

well... this was taking forever so just gonna leave it here and say it’s done? as always, it ended up longer than intended, then I wasn’t going to include all the scenes then I thought well it’s all written anyhow so, may as well...

1.18

It seemed like ages until the scene was secure and documented; there was so much to deal with between the dead art thief and his house full of stolen treasures.

As usual, Weller was running the show so Jane had little to do except keep an eye on the irritating criminal who had gotten them all involved in the unlikely scheme. Which was enough of a task in itself, as Rich had started jabbering again, once he'd gotten over the shock of seeing the damaged painting.

"That was a pretty slick move you guys pulled off back there, even if it did almost destroy a priceless piece of art," he commented.

"All that silent communication, interpreting body language, talking with the eyes stuff, if you will. That is 100% my jam."

"Especially in the heat of the moment, with lives on the line. You two must have worked together a long time to read each other that well."

Jane flashed Rich the fiercest glare she could manage, while simultaneously checking around to see if Allie was within earshot. Although she knew he was just trying to rile them all up by getting underneath their skin, it was hard not to feel tense whenever he opened his mouth.

Even when she kind of liked what he was saying.

Jane shook her head mentally as she felt her stomach swim with conflicted emotions. She wanted what was best for Kurt, and Allie seemed to be a perfect fit. No matter how much it hurt to see another woman in his life, she knew it couldn't be her place. Not with everything she was hiding from him; all that she really was.

And yet she hadn't entirely hated Rich's commentary, said just loudly enough that she and Allie could overhear him at the doorway.

Tell me again why you're with Allie? When Jane's the one you look to first whenever anything goes wrong, or goes right for that matter?

Weller hadn't even denied it, and that was another thing altogether.

"You realize you do it too, right?"

Jane snapped out of her reverie and turned her head back towards Rich, doing her best to appear uninterested in whatever he was about to say.

"You're always watching him, checking in. Like he's your responsibility."

"I mean, I get it. You're like partners and all. That intense bond between cops, that's actually one of my fetishes, unlikely as it might seem…"

"Shut up, Rich," Jane growled, unwilling to let him go any further into his thought.

Of course she didn't bother to tell him that they weren't partners in any sense of the word and had not been working together for long at all. Especially not when they'd first encountered the mouthy criminal, when they'd supposedly had so much chemistry.

It was true though. No matter how much she'd tried to shrug it off, she'd felt it. The way he touched her; even back then. It had seemed so easy, and right. Just like how they did look to each other first, whenever something happened.

She'd never even questioned it, the way in which she and Weller worked so perfectly in sync. It had just always been the way between them, even way back at the start when he'd trusted in her abilities more than she did.

"Okay, okay, sorry, I just thought it'd be a good chance to put it out there, seeing as how you're definitely not pining over Stubbles, and we have some chemistry too. I mean not like the way it is between you two of course. But if he's not willing to see what he has, then…"

"Rich!"

Allie was walking by and gave him a solid death stare before closing her eyes tiredly and striding away. Jane exhaled irritably in Rich's ear, hoping it would at least keep him quiet until the Marshal was out of earshot again.

"She looks like she has a headache," Rich mused. "She should probably get that checked out; you should see the studies on concussions coming out these days. I mean I'd be pretty worried if my girlfriend got knocked out like that."

Jane frowned, both in concern at Allie's head and at Rich's implication. Weller had checked on Allie right away, as soon as he could. But then she thought about the conversation that had followed, where Allie had said she was seeing two of him.

At the time Jane had just assumed it was mostly a joke, a way to shrug off the injury. It was something she would do herself, in an attempt to throw off Weller's overprotectiveness.

But then Kurt had taken Allie at her word and had gotten right back to work. He hadn't even demanded that she get checked out by a doctor, or tried to tell her to rest while he dealt with the scene.

Jane couldn't help but remember all the times she'd been forced into the medical room by him, after taking much smaller hits than the one that had left Allie unconscious. Maybe Weller just felt he couldn't tell Allie what to do because she worked for another agency and wasn't under his command. And yet she knew that wasn't it.

"I'm sure Allie's fine," Jane said, scowling in an attempt to deter any more comments.

Rich nodded sagely, as if agreeing with her. But of course he still didn't shut up.

"I'm sure she is," he mused. "I mean, Weller's her man and he doesn't seem worried at all."

Of course both Weller and Allie came within hearing range at that moment, making Jane close her eyes in dismay. No matter what she did, Rich's non-stop commentary wouldn't stop.

"I'm sure he'd be just the same if you were showing obvious signs of brain trauma."

Jane groaned inwardly as Kurt stepped closer and frowned at Rich's words, before turning towards her and looking into her eyes carefully.

"Did you take a hit I didn't see?" he asked.

"No, I'm fine," Jane sighed. "He's just going on about nothing again."

But of course Rich nudged her with his elbow and raised his eyebrows suggestively as Allie stepped up beside them. And still Kurt's eyes remained on Jane for a long pause before finally accepting that she really was okay.

"Let's get back to the NYO," Weller finally said, sounding annoyed at the situation in general.

"We need to figure out what to do about the damaged painting"

Jane exhaled in relief, glad to get away from the irritation of babysitting Rich. He seemed determined to screw with their heads, and their hearts. And, despite the little twinge of joy she got from hearing the mouthy criminal go on about how she and Kurt should be together, Jane knew that it was wrong. She hated the idea of breaking up Weller's relationship, especially because Oscar had tasked her with just that. Kurt deserved to have someone that was as great as Allie seemed to be; someone who could make him happy.

She had to find a way to tell him.

Even if it ended up being as awkward as it played out in her head.

###

Allie Knight walked out of the conference room at the NYO, fuming on so many levels. Getting played by Rich Dotcom after agreeing to his wild scheme and dealing with his 'insightful' comments all day was already making her a little crazy. And then there was Kurt.

He'd been pissing her off since that morning. The worst part was he was completely oblivious to it; had no idea he'd done anything wrong.

Which in turn made her even more mad. And maybe a little bit sad.

It had been going so well, or so she had thought. He'd even invited her to meet his dad, an unbelievable occurrence in more than one way.

But you knew, Allie told herself. You asked and he answered.

What's the deal between you and Jane?

That is not what this is about.

But obviously it was, even if he somehow couldn't see it.

She couldn't even be pissed off at Jane, who seemed to be doing everything she could to stay out of their relationship. Surprisingly, Allie actually kind of liked the other woman, despite her obvious effect on Kurt.

But the way he looked at her and acted around her. That wasn't the Kurt Weller Allie knew. That was some other man, full of emotion and a softness she didn't recognize at all.

Their relationship was still mostly based on mental and physical release; which was why the invitation to family dinner had seemed like a big step. But even though she'd come over and met his dad, Allie had always had the sense that she'd never really know all of him. Weller would always be that guy with her; good-hearted and fun but emotionally guarded. Yet it was obvious that he wasn't like that with Jane.

She could feel him walking out of the room just behind her and knew it was time to make a choice. He'd shown his hand, with far too many tells.

When she'd walked in on them that morning, it wasn't so much that Jane was hugging him. It was that Kurt had let himself be so emotionally vulnerable in front of her; crying while letting himself be held. And it had been pretty clear that they would have been there for awhile if she hadn't interrupted.

If she'd hugged him, of course he would have accepted it too. But a little stiffly and definitely with dry eyes; as if trying not to take too much comfort from it. He would have been her Kurt, so desperate to remain in control of his feelings that he buried them deep and pretended they weren't there.

Allie sighed, knowing what she had to do and yet still a little reluctant to let go. It had already been a shit day, right from that awkward moment in the locker room onwards. Goddamned Rich and his stupid escapades and his never-ending spiel of comments.

She was pissed at herself for letting him win, both in his plot and in his head games. But Allie had to admit he'd really only vocalized what had been itching at her the entire time. Kurt did look to Jane first, and worry about her more than anyone else. It was impossible not to see when around them.

"All right, so we gonna wash the day away with some nice scotch?" Weller asked.

Allie turned and swallowed back the last of her regret.

"I think I'm gonna pass," she replied.

"Why?" Kurt asked, reaching out for her.

"Hang on."

Allie sighed internally as she stopped and faced him. He really had no idea.

"Because of what Rich said on the roof?" Weller asked.

"He was just trying to throw us all off balance."

"It's not about what he said, all right. It's about what I saw," Allie retorted, feeling all of her annoyance ball up in her throat.

"And what'd you see?"

Did he really not understand how it looked from the outside? Especially to the people who knew him the best. Or even to the criminal who'd only met them twice.

"That there's something between you and Jane, okay?" Allie stated.

"I don't know what it is, and I don't know if you know what it is. But don't make me feel crazy by pretending it's not there."

To his credit, Weller didn't try and argue. Just stood there dumbstruck as Allie declared that she needed some space and strode off before the sadness kicked in.

Walking away, she felt both lighter and heavier all at once.

Even if he didn't know it, she'd confirmed that day what she'd always suspected - that she'd never have all of his heart. It was entirely possible he was lying to himself about how he felt; she knew those Kurt Weller walls and his ability to burrow behind them. But she couldn't lie to herself anymore.

So she wasn't going to let him hide behind her anymore, use her as a way to avoid the truth that they all could see. He was in love with Jane and couldn't keep his eyes off of her. Even if he couldn't admit it to himself.

It stung a little but not as much as Allie thought. Every step forward in their relationship had been a struggle, and now she understood why. Seeing him with Jane was like being around a different man.

Now it was just time for both of them to accept it and move on.

###

"I don't know what it is, and I don't know if you know what it is. But don't make me feel crazy by pretending it's not there."

He hadn't denied it because she was right of course. Well, and also because he'd been a bit stunned; somehow hadn't seen it coming at all. Even after dealing Rich's comments all day, Weller thought Allie's skin would have been thicker. But then her words sank in and he forced himself to actually look at his behaviour.

What Kurt realized was he'd been doing his best to pretend that none of it existed. All the ways Jane made him feel, every time he looked to her first. After he'd declared her off limits in his own mind, he'd tried so hard to treat her the same as everyone else. And obviously failed miserably at it, as pointed out by the annoyingly observant Rich Dotcom.

So Weller hadn't examined what it was, or put words to it. But, then again, it wasn't like he didn't know. Jane made him feel things that were entirely new, all the time. The emotions he'd gone through in the relatively short while that she'd been in his life were so intense, sometimes he was completely overwhelmed by them.

Kurt watched Allie walk away, feeling bad about the situation in various ways. He thought he'd been successfully avoiding the mistakes of the past with her. But he knew she was right too. He wasn't being honest with himself or with her.

Weller walked down the hall in a daze, angry and sad and everything in between. They'd gotten played by a smart-mouthed crook and then he'd gotten dumped. Oh, and his dad was dying.

He really needed that scotch.

"Hey, are you okay?"

His neck tingled at the sound of her voice and his head snapped up to meet concerned eyes.

"Fine," Weller deflected, feeling his heart rate start to amp up. She'd caused him so much stress that day and yet none of it was her fault at all.

"Um, I'm sorry about today," Jane said, a bit timidly. "I wish he would have just shut up."

He shook his head, having had the same thought the entire mission. He would have given anything to close the whole thing down and send the mouthy criminal back to maximum security. But he also couldn't get Rich's words out of his head.

"Tell me again why you're not with Jane?"

"Some would say it means that you're more worried/excited about her."

"Life's too short, Jane. Follow your heart. Tell Weller how you feel."

Now though, the irritation at having a criminal comment far too astutely on his love life had mostly seeped out. But that meant Kurt was just left standing there with the obvious truth in Rich's words still ringing in his mind; all while Jane was standing in front of him looking too worried for his liking.

How did she feel?

And why did his heart thump even harder just at the thought?

"He was just trying to mess with us," Weller said. "Don't worry about it."

"None of this is your fault."

Jane's expression lost a little of that guilty edge, and she offered him a small smile, as if she was trying her best to believe him.

He wanted to deflect her attention from that line of thought, trying to put it out of his own head too. Searching for another topic to focus on, his mind traitorously turned back to that morning, where he'd broken down in front of her and found himself crying in her arms.

The comfort he'd found within them had been immediate and somehow familiar; even though he normally felt awkward accepting hugs. Even now he was somehow okay with how much emotion he'd shown her and how soothing it had felt to be held by her.

He wanted that comfort right now too, for her to hold him and tell him everything was going to be okay. Of course he didn't give in to that inclination but it gave him an inspiration; a way to distract both of them from the day they'd just had.

"Hey, I'm about to head to the hospital to see my dad. Do you want to come?"

Jane's eyes lit up at the idea, like she was so happy to be able to do something for him. And Weller couldn't deny how it felt in his chest, seeing a shy hopeful grin tug at her lips as she nodded eagerly.

He hated that Rich was right. He did look to her first.

And it seemed like the entire world already knew why.

###

The entire day had been so incredibly awkward. Yet slipping her hand into his and tucking their fingers together felt so normal and comforting. And when Weller returned her tentative squeeze with a more forceful one, Jane finally remembered to breathe.

For a long moment they just stood there silently, and Jane could see that Kurt was doing his best to contain his emotions but they continued to spill out. He'd been so thankful to her for visiting his dad, which felt good in a way. But then there was the lie.

She felt so guilty. And yet, the little lie had made him so happy. The look on his face when she said she'd remembered. It broke her heart.

So there she was, standing there with his hand in hers, wishing she never had to let go. That he could be hers.

Tell Weller how you feel.

There was so much she wanted to tell him that she couldn't. Especially now, when he was with Allie and his dad was dying. What would she tell him anyways? That she had plotted all this, planted herself in his life and had known it for weeks now but not told him. Oh and I'm in love with you, that too.

She'd tried to tell him just the opposite, in the most awkward way she could come up with. She still cringed thinking about it.

So Jane just stayed silent until Kurt let go and started to set up an emotional wall.

"I should take you home," he said, staring at his feet.

"You can stay, I can make my own way back," she said, sensing he was on the verge of something he didn't want to share.

"No, I don't want…" he stammered.

"It's hard to be here alone and he's going to be out for awhile now."

She wanted to reach for him again but held back. He wasn't hers, she had to remember that.

"Okay, let's go then," Jane said.

Weller was distant, a little lost looking on the way back to the car. She wondered what he was thinking about, if he wanted to talk about it.

He isn't yours she reminded herself again. He had someone to talk to if he needed to.

And yet when they sat in the car and he was still so quiet, it was all she could do not to physically reach for him. He kept glancing over but didn't say anything, and she couldn't think of anything that didn't sound trite.

When they got to her safe house, he insisted on seeing her in even though she told him it wasn't necessary. At the door, she turned and he was giving her an undefinable look.

"Are you going to be okay?"

Weller turned his head quickly, wearing that same sad frown that made him look so vulnerable. But then he reshaped his features, attempting a small smile but not quite succeeding.

"Yeah, it's just been a long day, and not a very good one," he muttered.

"I know… I'm sorry," she started, feeling the need to apologize for everything going so wrong at the penthouse party.

"No, you did everything you could," he said. "We should have never let him set any of this up."

He shook his head and looked so weary.

"It's just been hard. I messed it all up. I should… I need… "

Weller sputtered a bit, losing his words again. And just the same as that morning, Jane instinctively reached for him, wrapping her arms around him.

He was shuddering a little and she pulled him close, wishing she really could tell him how she felt. Instead, she was just offering him some comfort, for whatever his unspoken need might be.

After awhile she realized he was crying into her shoulder, at about the same time he came to that realization as well.

"Shit, I'm sorry," he muttered. "I didn't mean to…"

"Shhh, it's okay," she soothed. "You can let it out, I won't tell anyone."

He laughed against her, then cried some more. And Jane had to admit she wanted nothing else than to keep on holding him, telling him everything was alright.

So for that moment at least, she did.

I love you Kurt Weller, she thought. And I want to hold onto you forever.

That's what Rich would want me to say.

[knuffled]

just practice - chapter twelve

thanks for reading! i promise i didn’t mean for it to be so angsty, but the road to hell is paved with good intentions or whatever the idiom is. anyhow, i hope you enjoy it, and it would mean a lot if you took the time to reblog or comment on AO3! i have been replying to every comment chapter 8 or 9!

read on AO3

The January sky was gray. It was not late, but darkness had already fallen. Snowflakes fell in a flurry, only briefly illuminated when passing beneath a street lamp. It collected on the roadside and turned to slush beneath the wheels of cars passing by. There was something about driving in the dark that had always appealed to her. Something about the gentle whirring of the motor, the luminescent lights on the dashboard, lurid in their juxtaposition with the velvet dark, and the effortless way the wheels glided against the tarmac had a way of putting her at ease.

The scenery was similar to the night of New Year’s Eve but duller. Grayer. The image of Percy, wreathed in a halo of moonlight, arose again unbidden in her mind’s eye, but there was no sight of the moon tonight. The clouds had seen to that.

She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the not-kiss. Ever since that night, the sense of lack had never left her. It carved a hollow for itself in the center of her chest and consumed anything that trespassed its event horizon. Like a black hole, not a void.

Annabeth had spent nearly everyday agonizing about the feeling and what it meant, but it defied any attempt to be known. All she could decipher was the sense of dissatisfaction, like hunger, that gnawed at her, but there was no urgency to it. It merely sat there, an immovable object. She found it grating, but not enough to where it compelled her to act. So she tolerated it.

She pressed her lips into a hard line and pulled into the Seneca Falls high school parking lot. She was late, like always. Percy’s meet had started nearly a half-hour ago. Annabeth stepped out of her car and ducked her neck behind the collar of her jacket as she jogged to the front door.

It was dark inside the school. Only half of the lights in the hallways were lit, and those that were flickered erratically. Annabeth followed the signs posted to the wall, guiding her to the pool. She was baffled by the fact that it took her nearly five minutes to find the pool, at the far end of the building. But eventually she drew close enough to hear the noise of the crowd rumbling from behind closed doors.

Annabeth opened the door tentatively to peer inside and was immediately accosted by the smell of chlorine. Her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. There was a heat going on. She prayed that it wasn’t Percy’s. Otherwise, the entire drive down to Seneca Falls would have been for nothing. Annabeth craned her head further inside, trying to make out the competitors, but she was too far away to tell.

When the heat ended, she released a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding and slipped inside. On her way to the bleachers, she scanned the crowd and felt a rush of relief when Piper waved to her from the fourth row. She had to squeeze past a family to reach Piper, and the seat was uncomfortable when she sat down. The screwheads dug into her thighs, making her grimace.

“Please tell me I didn’t miss Percy’s heat,” Annabeth said.

Piper popped a cheeto in her mouth and shook her head. “Nah, you’re totally fine. Want some cheetos?”

Annabeth shook her head. “Those things have texture like cardboard.”

“More for me then,” Piper said, shrugging. “I was worried you weren’t going to show.”

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. “I just had some stuff to deal with after school, and then it started snowing like crazy outside so I had to drive slower than normal.”

“Is it that project or whatever for Mrs. Dodds’s class? Jason has been complaining about it all week,” Piper asked.

Annabeth shook her head. “Taking AP Chem with that harpy is like getting your fucking teeth pulled. I just needed to review something for the english paper with Edmonds.”

Piper sighed melodramatically. “Still, so diligent. Truly a model student.”

“Fuck off.”

Piper balled up her now empty bag of cheetos and shook her head incredulously.

“I seriously can’t believe you aren’t feeling even a little bit of senioritis. Jason’s like that too. A pair of freaks, the two of you are. Mayhaps it has something to do with the fact that you’re both blonde. Seems to give one a proclivity for masochism.”

“I thought that the fact that we both unironically enjoy running stupidly long distances would have tipped you off about that by now,” Annabeth said lightly.

There was a pause before Piper cleared her throat conspicuously and said, “So what’s new with you, Annababe?”

“That was a real smooth transition there, Pipes,” Annabeth said.

Piper rolled her eyes and said, “Fine, you win that round. Happy? We can go back to the part where you were answering my question now, please.”

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but there’s nothing new on my end,” Annabeth lied.

“How are things going with Percy?”

Annabeth snorted and crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you going to ask me that everytime you see me?”

“Yes, now spill.”

“You know? You can be a real piece work sometimes, McLean.”

Piper threw an arm around Annabeth’s shoulder, grinning, and pulled her in close to press a kiss to Annabeth’s cheek, making her scowl.

“I bully you out of love, darling.”

Annabeth gave her a weary look. “So you admit that it’s bullying.”

Piper waved a hand dismissively. “Semantics, shemantics.”

“How come you never harass Percy like this?” Annabeth grumbled.

“Oh, I do,” Piper said brightly. “All the time, in fact.”

“Really? And what does he say when you do?”

“He usually comes to me on his own, funnily enough,” Piper said pointedly. “Though, I will admit that it has been a while since I’ve had the chance to have a proper talk with him.”

“I know this might boggle your mind, but some people appreciate privacy, Piper,” Annabeth said, rolling her eyes.

Piper opened her mouth, undoubtedly to say something clever, but Annabeth’s attention was pulled away by the fact that Percy was lining up in front of the pool. Three of his teammates stood in front of him, and it took Annabeth a moment to figure out why.

“Wait, he’s doing a relay?” Annabeth asked. “I thought he was doing freestyle, like always.”

“Fuck if I know,” Piper said, shrugging.

“State is next month,” Annabeth said, frowning. “What is he doing?”

Although Annabeth knew how intensely he practiced, she was still taken aback by his decision to not compete for the event he was doing at State: freestyle. She tried to glean some insight from his body language, but she found herself quickly distracted when Percy interlaced his fingers and stretched his arms away from himself, making the muscles of his upper back flex in response.

All at once, she found herself hyper-aware of the fact that practically all of his body was up for display. Her face flushed immediately, but she couldn’t force herself to look away. She’d seen him compete at meets countless times, but there was something different now.

Since when had his shoulders been so broad? How had she never noticed the beautiful curve of his spine or the sharp line of his jaw when he set it in concentration?

Over the years, Annabeth had heard her fair share of vulgar comments made by girls in her school about Percy’s physique. It wasn’t uncommon for many of them to show up at swim meets just to ogle at him. She had always found their behavior disgusting and objectifying. More than anything, it angered her that people talked about her best friend like that without even knowing him, like he was just a slab of meat. Annabeth had even snapped and chewed them out for it on more than one occasion.

Now, however, Annabeth couldn’t help understanding where those comments had come from, even though they were repulsive. She could no longer deny the fact that her best friend was gorgeous, even when he stood among other swimmers. Some of them were more physically impressive, sure, but Percy was imposing in his own right, trading impractical bulk for something more lithe and graceful. The untamed intensity that competition teased out of him was just the cherry on top.

Annabeth caught herself staring and immediately felt nausea and self-loathing rolling through her. She was acting like a fucking creep.

“Well, that might be the first time I’ve ever seen you checking Percy out so shamelessly,” Piper said, smirking.

Annabeth turned to her sharply, her face prickling. “I-It feels gross. Like I’m one of those groupies that show up at his meets just to perv on him.”

Piper snorted and said, “Annabeth, you’re nothing like them. You actually know him, for one thing. Besides, it’s not wrong to check out your boyfriend, you know.”

Annabeth mustered an uneasy smile and nodded. She tried not to squirm in her seat and to focus on the race instead, but her skin was hot. Uncomfortably so.

The first members of the relay stepped and took their places on the platform. Once they were settled, the official blew his whistle and they dove into the water. Westwood’s first swimmer did well, managing to stay in second place before handing it off to his teammate. She didn’t really pay much attention though. As long as there wasn’t too big a gap between first and second, they were fine. Percy was anchor for the relay and he was fast enough to make up that distance if push came to shove.

Still, Annabeth couldn’t help thinking that there was something off about Percy. She couldn’t say what it was, but he looked more tense than normal. As a competitor, one of the things Annabeth envied most about him was how relaxed he was at meets. Annabeth always had to wrestle with anxiety, but Percy had confessed to her that he barely ever felt nervous. If it was there, his focus was so finely honed that it didn’t even register to him. This was the first time that she had seen him look so jittery at a meet.

Her suspicions were only further solidified when Percy finally dove into the water. Usually, he barely disturbed the water when he breached it, but this time the water burst like he had belly flopped. It wasn’t a great start but they were still in second, so as long as he didn’t panic, there was no need to worry.

But he looked oddly sluggish. There was something wrong with his form. It lacked its usual effortless finesse and looked almost awkward. He slipped into fourth place by the time he kicked off the opposite end of the pool, and it didn’t look like he would be able to recover the distance.

Annabeth slid to the edge of her seat and worried her lip, praying that Percy would be able to figure something out, but at the end of the relay, Westwood finished in 5th place.

Percy stood there with a hand pressed against the pool wall and stared into the water blankly, his shoulders hunched. Eventually, one of his teammates helped pull him out of the pool, but they all looked as confused as Annabeth felt. This was uncharted territory for all of them.

His teammates look at one another, at a loss for words, before his coach pulled him away and had a hushed conversation with him. Annabeth couldn’t make out what they were saying over the noise of the crowd, but Percy’s posture never changed. His coach gave him an awkward pat on the shoulder and left to go deal with the team. Percy stood there for a few seconds before eventually dragging himself into the changing room.

Annabeth turned to Piper, hoping for an explanation, but she only reflected the worry Annabeth felt herself. They made their way down from the bleachers and waited at the entrance of the changing rooms. They had to wait for longer than she’d expected. Even though Percy had been the first to enter, he was the last to leave. When he did finally exit the locker room, his hands were curled tightly around his swimming bag and his hair was sopping wet, like he hadn’t even bothered drying it.

When he noticed them, he mustered a weary smile. “Ah, look! It’s my two favorite girls.”

Annabeth and Piper exchanged glances before Piper cleared her throat and softly said, “How are you feeling, Perce?”

Percy stopped smiling and pressed his lips into a thin line. “Not so hot, honestly.”

“Is there anything we can do for you?” Piper asked.

Percy rubbed at his eyes with his palms and shook his head. “Um, no— I-I’m just tired. I’ll be fine once I get some sleep.”

“You just had an off day,” Annabeth ventured. “It happens to the best of us.”

He set his jaw and looked away from them. “I really don’t wanna talk about it.”

Annabeth balled her hands into fists. She was utterly useless in situations like this. The situation only felt worse when Piper remained uncharacteristically silent. This was supposed to be her forte, not Annabeth’s — if she didn’t know what to say, Annabeth was screwed.

Piper glanced at her, trying to communicate something, but Annabeth didn’t know what she was trying to say. They stood there for a few more moments before Piper deflated with a sigh and shoved Annabeth towards Percy without warning, making Annabeth stumble.

“Well, I suppose I’ll let the girlfriend handle this,” Piper said with affected cheer. “Gotta go pick Jason up from the library anyhow.”

Annabeth turned to glare at her, but she paused when she caught the tick of Percy’s jaw when Piper said the word ‘girlfriend’. The gesture stoked the flames of helplessness burning inside her to even larger blaze. Annabeth turned to Piper in one last desperate attempt to ask for help, but Piper had already turned on her heels and walked away.

It seemed that Piper had thrown her to the wolves. Annabeth balled her hands into fists and tightened her jaw, feeling utterly lost. Piper was expecting too much from her. She didn’t know what the fuck she was supposed to do. She didn’t even know where to begin.

She tried looking at Percy for some insight, but he just looked utterly dead inside. There was something so wrong about that, like someone had extinguished the sun.

The floor squeaked underfoot when she shifted on her heels and wracked her brain for some combination of words that wouldn’t make the situation worse. It took all of thirty seconds for her to realize that she wasn’t going to come up with anything, so she decided to start with something easier.

“C’mon, let’s go to Martha’s,” Annabeth offered. “I’ll even buy you a milkshake.”

Percy dragged a hand across his face and said, “I’m exhausted right now. I just wanna go home.”

Annabeth shook her head. “I can’t let you do that. You’ll just spend all night beating yourself up if I let you go.”

Percy didn’t disagree with her, but he didn’t decide to go with her either. Annabeth screwed her eyes shut and exhaled fully. Then, she stepped forward and took his hand in her own and gave it a squeeze. It was enough to get Percy to actually look at her for the first time all night. She was struck by the fragility she saw in his eyes. No, fragility wasn’t the right word. More like vulnerability, more raw, more open.

“Look, I just don’t want you to be on your own tonight, okay? But if you really do want to go home, I won’t stop you,” Annabeth whispered.

There was a pause before Percy murmured, “Martha’s is fine.”

She almost asked him if he was sure before she thought better of it. “You should dry your hair or you’ll catch a cold again. It’s pretty brutal outside.”

Percy nodded and set down his swimming bag and dropped to a crouch. He tried to unzip the bag to find his towel, but the zipper was caught on something and wouldn’t budge. He tried to get it to work three more times, each attempt more violent than the next, until he stopped and sat down, shoulders hunched.

“It’s not working,” he said blankly. “Why isn’t it working?”

Annabeth crouched beside him and gently tugged the bag out of his grasp, saying, “Here, let me.”

It took her a few seconds to figure out part of his swimming trunks were caught under the zipper. Getting it out of the way took longer than she would have liked, but eventually she managed to tease the bag open. Once she did, she rummaged in the bag for the towel buried at the bottom and turned back to Percy with victorious smile.

“Took some work, but I managed to-” Annabeth’s smile dropped.

Tears were flowing silently down Percy’s face, and he bit his lower lip to keep it from quivering. Before her mind could catch up with her body, Annabeth dropped the towel and threw her arms around him. His breath hitched at first, but then he melted into her embrace and buried his face in the crook of her neck. It hurt to feel his tears straining her shirt and the spastic way his shoulders shook behind her palms.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. Just let it out. I’ve got you,” Annabeth whispered.

“I’m s-sorry. The stupid zipper. It- It wasn’t working,” Percy sobbed.

Annabeth ran her hands down his back, hoping it would be at least somewhat soothing. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault. It’s alright.”

“Can’t even open a fucking bag right,” Percy said tightly. “God, I’m so fucking useless.”

Annabeth pulled away and held him by the shoulders. “Hey, that’s not true.”

Percy looked away from her, coating her hands in tears. “It is.”

“It isn’t,” Annabeth said firmly. “You’re exhausted and having a really shitty day. It’s okay if you couldn’t open your backpack, alright? It’s not your fault.”

“Of course it’s my fucking fault,” Percy said, voice cracking. “I-I let them all down, Annabeth. They were counting on me, and I fucked it up like I always do.”

It took her a second to realize he wasn’t talking about the backpack anymore.

“You had an off day, Percy. It’s nothing to beat yourself up about. I can guarantee that none of them will blame you for it, I promise,” Annabeth said.

“And how would you know that?”

“Because I’ll kick their fucking asses otherwise, that’s how.”

That tore a watery laugh from him before he slumped back against the wall. Annabeth hovered near him, unsure of what to do. Percy rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand and took a deep breath.

His voice was more steady when he said, “I’m supposed to be the captain. I’m supposed to be reliable. They put their trust in me, and I let them down.”

“They trust you for a reason,” Annabeth said. “They know how hard you work, how much you have given for the team.”

“But I still failed them when it mattered most,” Percy muttered.

Annabeth sighed and brushed her hair out of her face. “Literally none of them think that. They were just worried about you. I could see it in their eyes.”

When he remained silent, she added, “If one of them were in your shoes and had an off day at a meet, would you think they had let you down?”

“They aren’t captain,” Percy argued.

“So just because you’re captain, you have to be absolutely flawless, all the time?”

Percy opened his mouth before closing it again and looked down at his lap. Annabeth ground her teeth together. What could she do to make him understand? Why did he always hold himself to such unreasonable standards? He always shouldered too much responsibility, but didn’t he realize that, at some point, he would have to run out of things to give? Not even Percy could carry the world on his shoulders forever, but he would be damned if he didn’t try.

“Sometimes I wish people would stop putting their faith in me,” he whispered.

“I know but it’s not entirely their fault. There’s just something about you that makes people want to follow you,” Annabeth said.

Percy shook his head and said, “I don’t understand what they see in me. I’m not special. I can’t be who they need me to be. I wish I could. I really, really do. But I can’t. I just can’t. Even today, I lost us the relay because I couldn’t shut my brain off and focus. I just can’t stop thinking about the-”

“Can’t stop thinking about what?” Annabeth asked, frowning.

Percy swallowed and turned away from her. “It’s nothing. Just ignore what I said.”

A spark of anger that rushed through her. “No, that’s bullshit. You don’t get to do that. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I-It’s not a big deal.”

“Then you should have no trouble telling me,” Annabeth said.

When he remained silent, she crossed her arms over her chest and said, “I’m literally not leaving until you tell me what’s going on. Even if that means staying here all night.”

When Percy looked up at her, the mix of fear and resignation in his eyes reminded her of a lamb being led to slaughter. A lump formed in her throat. Since when had things gotten so difficult between them?

She forced herself to take a breath and said, “I’m your friend, Percy. I’m not going to hurt you. So, please, just talk to me.”

There was a pause before Percy ran his hands through his hair, almost violently, and nodded. “I- I can’t stop thinking about New Year’s Eve.”

Annabeth furrowed her brow. “What about it?”

Percy looked down at his lap and clenched his shirt with one hand, right at the center of his chest.

“I almost kissed you.”

His voice had been so quiet, Annabeth had almost missed it. It took her a few seconds to process what he had said and what it meant.

“And that’s why you’re beating yourself up so much?” Annabeth asked, trying not to gape.

He looked up at her sharply and said, “I almost stole your first kiss, Annabeth. You deserve to have it with someone that you actually like, not wasted on a stand-in like me.”

“Percy, first kisses are not that big a deal,” Annabeth said exasperatedly.

“They are to me,” Percy said quietly.

Annabeth didn’t know how to respond to that. Honestly, the whole conversation made very little sense to her. She couldn’t understand for the life of her why this was causing him so much anguish. Besides, there was that comment he had made, about being a stand-in. It was technically true, but there was just something wrong about it.

“The worst part is that I wanted to,” Percy whispered. “Even though I knew from the start, at that moment, I didn’t care. I almost did something awful to you.”

There was a brief pause before Annabeth exploded.

“Christ, boys are so fucking stupid sometimes.”

Percy looked up with wide red-rimmed eyes, surprised by the hostility in her voice. Annabeth pulled him by the collar of his shirt so that they were face to face, close enough for her to see the dried tracks his tears had left on his face, and dropped her voice to a deadly whisper.

“Listen to me very carefully: you didn’t almost ‘steal’ anything that night. I could have stopped the kiss at literally any point if I hadn’t wanted it to happen. It was just as much my decision as it was yours, okay? I’m a person, not a fucking mannequin. Stop treating me like one.”

Annabeth set her jaw and glared at him, daring him to challenge her, but Percy held his breath and nodded once, slowly. She stared at him for another second before she turned to pick up the towel. Her hands were trembling. Annabeth was surprised at how angry she was. She dropped the towel twice because of it.

She turned back to him and said, “Turn around.”

Percy blinked owlishly before he did as she commanded. Annabeth took a moment to run her fingers through his hair. It had dried some, but it was still wet. Annabeth started to towel dry his hair, and Percy flinched, almost immediately, like she had expected.

He caught her wrist and peered up at her. “You don’t have to do that.”

“God, Percy, just shut up and let me take care of you for once,” Annabeth said, sharper than she would have liked.

A beat passed before Percy nodded reluctantly and turned around. Annabeth took a moment to swallow and returned to her task. She took her time. There was no rush, after all. Nowhere they needed to be. Nothing they needed to do. Nothing to stop them from being who they were. So Annabeth tried her best to do with her hands what her words could not.

She was careful with him. Thorough. Gentle. Tension drained out of him, allowing his shoulders to open up, and he leaned into her touch unconsciously. The repetitive motions lulled her senses and the world felt less sharp. The dim lights in the hallway flickered erratically and hummed like a droning bee. His hair was soft and tickled her fingers. She wondered if any of his former girlfriends had known that. They probably had. They probably knew more than she ever would.

“Annabeth?” Percy whispered.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. And— thank you. For everything.”

Annabeth hummed in acknowledgment. A beat passed and Percy’s lips pulled upwards in a half-smile.

“It’s been a long time since you’ve gotten mad at me.”

“You sound far too pleased about that. Am I going to have to kink shame you or something?”

That tore a tired laugh out of him, and Annabeth smiled. Now, with her work done, she threw the towel back into his swim bag and stretched in place. Percy’s back was still facing her. Annabeth knocked her forehead lightly between his shoulder blades and grinned when it startled him. He turned around and raised an eyebrow.

“How are you feeling?” Annabeth murmured.

“Um, better, I think?” Percy replied. “Definitely more relaxed.”

“I- I didn’t make things worse right?” Annabeth asked tentatively.

“No, you helped,” he said quickly. “More than you probably know.”

Annabeth swallowed and looked down at her lap. “Okay, good. Just making sure.”

There was another pause and then Percy asked, “Should we go home?”

Annabeth met his eyes and nodded. “Yeah, let’s go home.”

[intomymindspace]

Are You Bored Yet? ✰ Sawamura Daichi

Are You Bored Yet? by Wallows (ft. Clairo)

sawamura daichi x gn reader

Through the Summer and the Fall // Haikyuu!! Songfic Series

a/n: Hello hello! I didn’t expect this big of a response for my series and Asahi songfic, but thank you all for the support 🥺 as promised, I have delivered a hopefully good dadchi fic featuring just deadass a scene from Monthly Girl’s Nozaki-Kun because I just want a second season 😌 I hope you all have been doing well!! The next insert I will be posting will be with Iwa-chan 🥰 I also try to make my fics as gender neutral as possible! But sometimes I slip without noticing it, so if you see a she or her in there, please just let me know kindly and I shall fix it!

Warnings: maybe like really light angst? and just Suga being his matchmaking self as per usual~

Daichi stared at you from the sidelines as the team took a small water break before their post-practice stretch. The boys had been practicing since the morning because school wasn’t in session for the summer. Not to mention, the Star Festival was tonight - so Coach Ukai decided to let them out earlier than usual in the afternoon so they could join the festivities before sunset hit. Daichi was too late to react as your eyes met his, and his cheeks reddened slightly as he was caught staring at you. Noticing how red he had gotten, you jogged over and handed him his water bottle.

“Dai-san, you’re looking a little red. Are you okay?” He heard genuine concern in your voice, and he couldn't help but smile at your kindness.

“Yeah, just a bit tired since it's so hot, that's all.” Grabbing the bottle from your hands, he thanked you as he rubbed the nape of his neck sheepishly.

“Is everything okay? You seemed a bit out of it today.” Daichi’s eyes widened at your question - but he wasn’t surprised by it. You could read him like an open book, but you were completely blind to his feelings for you.

“Everything’s fine! I’m fine. I guess I’ve just been thinking about tonight.” You smiled at him, taking the answer. You could tell something was bothering him, but you decided against pushing him for the actual answer for now.

"What's wrong?" you've been askin'

But I don't have an answer

While getting ready, you couldn’t help but think about Daichi - what was going on with him? You had been close friends with him since Suga introduced the two of you in your first year - and you knew almost everything about him. If Suga didn’t take first place in being your best friend, it would’ve been Daichi. Even though the both of you had only met almost three years ago, when you’re with him, it feels like you’ve known him forever. So why couldn’t you pinpoint why he was acting strange around you?

And why didn’t he want to tell you?

Sighing, you finished fixing your face and hair, giving yourself one last look in the mirror before putting on your yukata, your mom helping you perfect the obi across your waist. Promising her that you’d take lots of photos, you walked out your door and made your way to Suga’s house - you were neighbors and childhood friends after all. During the half-an-hour walk to the festival square, you took the initiative to ask Suga about Daichi’s mood - maybe he knew.

“Daichi-san has been acting weird? What makes you say that?” He asked, a light smile on his face.

“I don’t know. I didn’t really think of it as a big issue until today. The past week, I just thought that maybe he was more tired than usual… but now, I feel like he’s just trying to avoid me - or at least, avoid talking to me.” Suga hummed in response. He saw the way you tried to hide the hurt look from showing in your eyes, a frown still creeping onto your face. He smirked at the phone call he had with his friend while getting ready.

How come, I'm still thinkin'

Let's pretend to fall asleep now

“Suga-san, what do I do?” He could feel the panic in Daichi’s voice. Rolling his eyes playfully, Suga answered the captain’s question.

“Baka, we’ve been talking about this for a whole month, Daichi-san.”

“That’s not the point! What happens if they reject me? That's literally three years of friendship down the drain because of me.” If they had been having this conversation face-to-face, Suga would’ve chopped him in the side so hard.

“First of all, what makes you think they’ll reject you?”

“Well - ” Suga cut him off.

“And second of all, why are you assuming they’re going to stop being your friend even if they do reject you? I didn't know you thought they were that shallow, Dai-san.” Suga smirked after he finished talking - he knew he had Daichi in checkmate.

“I - I don’t think they’re shallow! I just… Ugh! I hate that you’re always right.” He could practically see the annoyed look on Daichi’s face, making him giggle.

“I know. So are you going to confess to them tonight?”

“I - I don’t know.” The setter’s eyes formed slits as he squinted.

“If you don’t, I will tell them.” Suga was definitely lying - he wasn’t the type person (or friend, for that matter) to do that. While he was invested in the romantic lives of his friends and teammates, his dream being the ultimate matchmaker, he hoped that Daichi wouldn’t call his bluff. Luckily, the captain didn’t.

When we get old will we regret this

Too young to think about all that shit

“Perhaps you should ask him about it tonight. It’s better to just ask instead of letting the situation fester for longer.” He advised.

“Hmm, you’re right. Thank you Suga-kun.” He nodded at you, his smile lifting your mood. Now only if that damn Daichi would take his advice -

“What has got you so worked up about Daichi’s mood anyhow, if I may ask?” Your eyes widened at his question, not expecting it.

“Well, I - to be honest, I’m not really sure why. I just don’t like that I feel like he’s avoiding me.” That idiot, Suga thought.

“Why don’t you like that?” Suga pushed, interested in questioning you further. He always had the inklings of a hunch that you returned Daichi’s feelings, but you had never expressed it. It made him wonder if you maybe just hadn’t realized it.

“I don’t really know. Wouldn’t you be a little upset if your best friend started avoiding you? I guess I just don’t want to lose him.” There it was.

“Why?”

“Why are you asking so many questions?”

And stallin' only goes so far

When you've got a head start

“Why are you avoiding answering them?” You rolled your eyes at the playful smirk on his lips.

“I hate when you do this.”

“I’m only trying to help ~ but why don’t you want to lose him? And don’t tell me it's just because he’s your best friend. Besides me, of course.” He sent you a wink.

“Well…” Suga brought up a good point. Why were you so upset by it? Usually when Daichi had bad weeks, he acted the same - but he always told you what was wrong. “I don’t want to lose him because I care about him.” The both of you were walking down the river, nearing your destination. Suga said nothing as you collected your thoughts, the both of you stopping for a short while to stare at the river.

“He’s always there for me, you know? Like I know that you’re always there for me, and I love you. But with Dai-san… I feel like I just can’t pinpoint it and it frustrates me so much! All I know is that I want to be by his side for as long as possible.” Much to your surprise, the setter laughed, making your eyebrows scrunch in response.

“What?”

“God, you are so blind. It’s rather endearing, really.” You just glared at the silver-haired boy. “You’re in love with him, idiot.” Suga saw the way your eyes widened, the way your cheeks reddened, and the way your jaw slacked. He took your silence as a realization, and continued.

“Why don’t you spend time with Daichi tonight?” Your wide eyes met his.

“Like… alone? But - what about you? And Azu-san? And Nishin - ” you were cut off as he flicked your forehead.

“Don’t worry about us, silly. Take your time tonight and see him in this new light - it’s not like you haven’t been alone with him before. I’m just surprised you didn’t realize it sooner.”

'Cause we could stay at home and watch the sunset

But I can't help from asking are you bored yet?

When the both of you met up with the other boys, you noticed the way your breath seemed to hitch in your chest when you laid eyes on Daichi - how long had you been blind to your own feelings? The captain was wearing a navy blue yukata, white outlines of waves, koi, and scales patterning the ends of his sleeves and at bottom half of the lower portion. He looked so handsome in the afternoon sun. The boys were preoccupied with one another, giving Daichi the opportunity to speak to you without the seemingly prying eyes of his nosey children teammates.

“How are you? I know I just saw you only a few hours ago, but - ”

“I’m doing good! I - how are you feeling, Dai-san?” He blushed at your question.

“I’m doing good too. Um - I think you look really good…” As the two of you trailed into an awkward conversation for the first time in the history of your friendship, Suga rolled his eyes as he eavesdropped on the two of you.

And if you're feelin' lonely you should tell me

Before this ends up as another memory

“Suga-san, is it just me, or are the two of them acting a bit weird?” While Asahi directed the question to his setter, the rest of the boys all thought it was a good idea to shut up and look at the two of you - to find both of you with blushes on your cheeks, Daichi with his hand rubbing the nape of his neck. Before Suga could answer, Nishinoya spoke up.

“Yeah, why aren’t they over here?” He began yelling. “Oi, Dai - ” Suga immediately chopped his kouhai on the head, shushing him. The vice-captain then glared at the rest of the second and first years.

“None of you will interrupt them, understand? And I mean the whole night. I’m trying to get them to confess to one another, and I don’t need any one of you idiots to ruin their chances!” Suga heard Tsukishima tsk.

“Lame. I thought they were already dating. Yamaguchi and I won’t be in your way.” On the other hand, Hinata had resorted to hitting Kageyama in shock, the blocker’s eyes wide and mouth on the floor. Asahi laughed as Suga folded his arms, making sure the others knew what to not do.

“I guess everything all makes a little more sense now.”

Will you tell the truth so I don't have to lie

Will you tell the truth so I don't have to lie

While the majority of the team hung out as a group, the boys made sure to leave the two of you with as much space as possible. At an origami tent, the boys were fooling around, attempting to make impossible shapes out of the paper. While you were deeply focused on folding a crane that would be hung as decor, Daichi paid attention to a poster hanging from the tent that explained the different meanings of origami folds and the different colors.

He kept running various situations through his head - all of them ending badly. What if you just wanted to be his friend? Should he ask you how you felt first? If you said something about how reliable he was of a friend, then he could just lie about how you were just his good friend too. Then he could mope and move on. He just wished you could tell him.

As you finished your crane, you looked up to find Daichi slipping his folding into a pocket. As his eyes met yours, a blush grew on your face. Had his doe eyes always been so mesmerising?

Feels like I've known you my whole life

I can see right through your lies

“I’m still a little hungry, and the sun looks like it’s starting to set. Do you want to get something else to eat?” He asked you, standing up from his seat. Nodding your head in response, you stood up and followed in step with him, the two of you leaving the comfortability of the team, finding yourselves lined up to buy dango. As you ordered, you were about to hand the vendor the yen when Daichi interrupted.

“Make that two please. Thank you!” He handed the vendor the appropriate amount of money before turning to you, a blush on his cheeks. “My treat, okay?” Unable to form words, you nodded as you waited for the dessert to be ready.

“Thank you for the dango, Dai-san. You didn’t have to.” You couldn't help the pink tint that was staining your cheeks as the two of you began to walk away.

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s walk by the river before the fireworks, come on.” Daichi wasn’t sure if it was the sweetness in the dessert that gave him the confidence and energy, but he grabbed your hand and led you to the walkway.

You felt like your hand was on fire. You didn’t even know what to say! You were so taken aback by the way Daichi’s hand enveloped yours perfectly. You had almost forgotten about the dessert he bought you - you were too focused on admiring him. He looked so good in the light - the way the last golden rays hit his face and changed his eye color from a deep mocha to a honeyed gold. As his eyes suddenly met yours, Daichi couldn’t help but smile - there was something about holding your hand that made all his worries disappear. You returned his smile before quickly averting your gaze to watch the sun meet the horizon - you tried your best to distract yourself by eating the dango and staring into the landscape.

I don't know where we're goin'

But I'd like to be by your side

Daichi couldn’t help but stare at you as you watched the sunset. He felt like he was falling in love with you all over again as he watched the way your skin seemed to glow in the fading light. He blushed as he saw you take a bite out of your dessert - thinking about how he wished he could feel your just as sweet lips on his own. Finishing your last bite, you turned to find him still looking at you - not that you knew he never stopped.

“Daichi-san, what's wrong? Is there something on my face?” Immediately, Daichi’s eyes widened as he shook his head side to side rather adamantly.

“No, no! There’s nothing wrong.” There was an awkward silence as you two stared at one another, not really understanding what to do or what to say. But finally, he spoke up again. “The fireworks are going to start soon, should we find a better spot?” All you could do was nod as he tugged your hand and led you away.

Daichi weaved between the growing crowd until the two of you reached the children’s playground, which was seemingly empty. Motioning for you to climb onto the metal jungle gym, your eyes widened. Your mom had tied your obi rather tight - and your yukata was a lot more movement-restricting than his.

“Dai-san, I don’t think I’m going to be able to climb on it. We can get on the swings, though.” Shaking his head, Daichi replied. “Nonsense, I’ll help you.” The top of the metal bars just passed your head, so you were curious as to how he could help.

You weren’t expecting Daichi to grasp your waist with his hands, gripping your hips tightly and lifting you up with ease, allowing you to sit on the small platform the bars made. You were glad the sun was just about gone by this time - you knew your face was beet red, but you found yourself immediately missing the way his hands felt on you as you looked down at him. He climbed up easily, settling down next to you. It felt like such a long time before either of you talked.

If you could tell me how you're feelin'

Maybe we'd get through this undefeated

“Daichi-san,” you started, staring down at your hands as the brunette looked over at you, “What’s wrong?” You met his eyes, and his heart panged at the hurt look in your eyes.

“What do you mean? Nothing’s wr - ” you cut him off.

“Can you just tell the truth? I don’t want to lie and keep on pretending like everything’s okay.” Daichi sighed, his eyes flitting around your face before staring at the now dark sky. He wished he could wait for the fireworks, but he knew you were expecting an answer.

“Aren’t you bored yet? Of being friends?” Your eyes grew wide at his questions, and you felt your heart shatter as tears began to fill your eyes. Of course - that's why he was acting so weird. Daichi didn’t want to be your friend anymore. He wanted to spend one last happy memory with you before he shut you out of his life. You turned away immediately before he could see the tears stream down your face.

Holdin' on for so long, oh

“Oh, I see.” You tried your best to remain calm, but your voice betrayed you as it wavered. Daichi’s eyes widened - you were crying because of what he said. Gently grabbing your hand, he quickly tried to explain himself, saying your name over and over again.

“No, no, no, that's not what I meant to say - I mean, I did mean to say that, but not in that way! Not - ” you cut him off again, looking at him once again. His heart broke as he looked at the tears that slowly fell down your face.

“Then what did you mean to say?”

“I… I meant to say… Ugh!” Daichi’s hands flew up to run through his hair in frustration before he turned back to you. He had to tell you now or never.

“I’m trying to tell you that I - ” the night sky lit up with fireworks of all colors and sizes, their booms filling the air, cancelling out what he was telling you. You couldn't even understand what words his lips were forming. You stared at him in confusion, your eyebrows furrowing.

Daichi looked at you expectantly, but all you could do was ask a loud “what?” You hadn’t heard him. Sighing, a small smile coming to his lips - of course you didn’t hear him, the fireworks were so damn loud, and he couldn't help but chuckle at the irony of you not hearing him. You looked so cute when you were confused too. 

Leaning down, Daichi moved his head right next to yours - you shivered and turned red as you felt his breath tickle your ear. You heard him this time almost loud and clear, even when he spoke your name at a normal volume right in your ear.

“I don’t want to be just your friend. I love you.” Daichi pulled away just enough to look at your face. Your lips were parted, a surprised look on your face.

'Cause we could stay at home and watch the sunset

But I can't help from asking are you bored yet?

“Dai-san…” You didn't even know what to say or what to do - his eyes were so mesmerizing, and you were so shocked by his confession that you couldn’t even tell him you felt the same way. Daichi smiled, knowing you like the back of his hand. He saw the way your pupils dilated and the heavy blush that rested on your cheeks. He definitely should’ve told you sooner.

Leaning in once again, his lips hovered just centimeters from yours - seeing if you would move way or not. When you didn’t move away after a few seconds, Daichi closed the gap between your lips, kissing you as gently yet as passionately as he could convey. It only took you a second to reciprocate, and your lips moved against his as the fireworks in the sky and in your heart exploded furiously. Pulling away so you both could catch your breaths, you made your confession.

And if you're feelin' lonely you should tell me

Before this ends up as another memory

“Daichi, I love you too.” His eyes widened at your confession and he cupped your face in both his hands, his thumbs tracing your jawline as he pulled you into a desperate kiss. One hand moved to pull your waist closer and your hands moved up to rest on his chest and at the nape of his neck. As his lips moulded with yours perfectly, Daichi wished the moment would last forever.

Will you tell the truth so I don't have to lie

Will you tell the truth so I don't have to lie

Thank you for reading!!

~ Crystal 😌❤️

through the summer and the fall series masterlist

blog masterlist

buy me a ko-fi (but only if you can and want to)!

BONUS

The next day, the boys were surprised when you brought them freshly baked cookies as a treat for their lunch break. The excited first and second years eagerly thanked you as you each gave them two cookies. Daichi held a loving look in his eyes as he watched you from just a few meters away - and when your eyes met his, he gave you a smitten smile.

“I assume things worked out well? I never got a text from either of you last night.” Daichi turned to find Suga next to him, hand on his hip with a playful glare on his face. The captain’s smile only grew wider as his eyes wandered to look at you again.

“Yeah, they did.” But his mood immediately turned dark when Tanaka and Nishinoya started obsessing over you and the fact that you baked for them - their shouts and cries filling the gym.

“OI, TANAKA, NISHINOYA, BOKE! GET YOUR DIRTY HANDS OFF MY LOVE!”

The captain didn’t hesitate to pull you away from the rowdy second years, everyone’s eyes wide open as Daichi held his most intimidating face. However, he immediately softened up and lost the face completely when you placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“WOOOOHHHHHH! Senpai, you should kiss Daichi-san at practice more often! He’s way less scary!”

[crystalrose555]

Don’t make me slap you! Pt. 3

Reblog if you want more!!

Leviathan released a heavy sigh as he entered the House of Lamentation. He just wanted to go back to his room and curl up in his tub, playing mobile games till his next raid but now his perfect afternoon was crumbling away with the sound of his resistant ward. He glimpsed over his shoulder as he watched Beel struggle against the slippery Mochi who thrashed back and forth vigorously in his grip. He grunted, his arms slipping against the smooth fur and his appetite rearing its head from the extra effort of the reluctant Mochi. She kept whipping around her head in an attempt to headbutt the irritated Beelzebub but he held her high enough that it was not an option. Thankfully, Lucifer clamped her muzzle shut with a quick hex to avoid any unwanted injury. Lucifer, on the other hand, had refused to release his face from his grasp until they were all in the foyer and Satan closed the front door behind them.

“Ok, Beelzebub, you can put her down now.” He groaned. With a hardy grunt, Mochi was plopped on the smooth tile where she tried to slide away from the demons. However, Beel circled around her and cut off her escape route. Asmo gasped as he looked at Beelzebub. “Oh no, Beel, you’re all scratched up.”

Beel looked nonchalantly at his forearms that were covered in scratches from her sharp claws.

“It’s fine, I had worst from practice. I’m just really hungry.” He frowned while looking at the fidgety Mochi.

“Don’t even think about it, Beel. She’s off-limits, try to eat her and Lucifer will string you up from the chandelier.” Asmo advised as he went to get bandages. Beel pouted to himself as Satan finally addressed Lucifer over their new ordeal.

“This isn’t really happening, is it?” “Unfortunately, it is. This creature is the exchange student for this year.” “Her name is Mochi.” Lucifer gave an unamused glare as Satan painted a smirk on his face. “Anyhow, this must be serious since Diavolo looked depressed when Barbatos insisted that she should stay here instead of the castle.” “Of course, if Mochi stayed there, the paperwork would be even more backed up than before. Regardless, this isn’t a major concern, we just have to prove that this is an ordinary animal.” Satan raised his eyebrow and glanced over to Mochi who was giving Beelzebub the stink eye from her balled up form. 

“Hmm, well, how do you plan on proving it? You can’t exactly give her a pencil and an IQ test.” “I’ll think of something, I’m just too tired to think of anything for now. Just toss her into Levi’s aquarium.” Levi jolted quickly in response. “You can’t put her in there, she’ll eat Henry! Put her in Asmo’s bathroom, there’s enough room in there!” Asmo rushed in with the first aid kit and a fire in his eyes. “Don’t you dare put that stinking beast in my personal haven!” Mammon chuckled underneath his hand and gave Asmo a shrewd glance. “Aww, what happened to the generous Asmodeus? And here I thought I was the selfish one~” He mocked.

Asmo shot him a glare which caused Mammon to turn his head sheepishly.

“Well we can’t put her in Beel’s room for obvious reasons or Mammon’s room since he would most likely try to sell her.” “Hey-” “And my room is out of the question since I have a bunch of valuable and dangerous books. So the only ones left are Levi, Asmo and Lucifer.” The remaining brothers look at each other in nervous anticipation, mostly because Asmo and Levi didn’t have the brass to stare down the irritated Lucifer. While Mammon and Satan snickered at the staring contest, Beel pulled his eyes away from them to see Mochi scooting away from them. He watched for a moment to see her move over to the stair railing and scratch her snout against it. Once that didn’t work, she then scratched her muzzle with her front flipper. After a few swipes, she snorted out air in frustration and looked around for something else. His expression softened before addressing Lucifer.

“Umm, Lucifer?” “Beel, I already told you, you can’t eat her.” “No not that, I think your hex is bothering her.” The quarrel ceased as all of them turned to stare at the frustrated seal. Asmo and Levi’s expressions softened while the others remained neutral.

“Aww, poor thing~” Asmo whined. “Yeah, reminds me of those videos with animals trapped by trash.” Levi frowned. “Hmph, serves her right for trying to bite me!” “Mammon, you called her a dummy after you threatened to sell her as a coat, of course, she would attack you!” “Why are you yelling at me! You also wanted her to be a coat, Asmo!” “I only said that when Beel was going to eat her.” “...You’re really ugly when you’re two-faced.”

Asmo’s horns popped out in pure anger while Mammon’s wings flared up in retaliation. Lucifer took a moment before a sly smile crawled across his face. “Maybe we should turn her into a coat.” He claimed. “Wait what? Lucifer, have you lost it!?” Levi asked. “I mean why not? If push comes to shove, we can just tell Diavolo that she had an unfortunate accident.” “Hmm, all that fat and meat might keep Beel tied over till dinner.” Satan claimed. “And I could sell the fur to Asmo at a premium rate~” Mammon gleamed. Levi and Asmo looked on horrified by the shift attitude of their brothers while Beel looked on in confusion. “Ok, I’m confused-” Beel stopped mid-sentence as he watched his breath escape his mouth in a cloudy fog. Seeing this, each of the brothers noticed their own smoky breaths as the room grew colder. While the others looked around for the source, Satan and Lucifer stared at the cause of the frigid air. Soon all of the brothers were looking at the growling Mochi who sat upon a patch of thin ice, with white puffs being snorted for her nostrils. “Well, well, I call that killing two birds with one stone.” Lucifer smirked. “Hold on, what’s happenin’?” Mammon questioned. “I had a feeling that something was amiss when Mochi slid across the floor of the summoning room. It’s polished but not the point of Beelzebub falling on his own and her speedy escape.” “Not to mention  how she reacted when you, Diavolo and Barbatos were talking about her.” Satan added. Mochi stiffened up as all the brothers’ stare intensified with the idea of being deceived. She squished herself back into a ball as she tried to bare her fangs at the demons, the ice underneath her crawling further from her body. At this point, the brothers were on their toes, their demonic forms flickering in their shadows, preparing for a possible fight. However, a chuckle from their eldest brother disrupted the cold air into a wave of uncertainty. “At ease everyone, it’s like Diavolo said, we should be gentle with our new housemate.” With a wave of his hand, a faint red aura radiated from Mochi’s muzzle and disappeared into the air. She twitched her nose as Mammon gave a look of disbelief to Lucifer. “Is your head cracked!? You just unleashed the beast!” “Don’t be daft, Mammon. It’s clear as day this seal is a familiar. The ice abilities and the ability to understand us is a dead giveaway. Now the question is, will ‘Mochi’ be willing to talk to us?” “How the hell is she suppose to talk, with growls and barking?” Lucifer ignored Mammon’s whining and looked directly to Mochi with a cold smile and even colder eyes.

“Alright, Mochi, I released my hex from you to make it a more even playing field. Answer my question or Beel is going to have a human realm delicacy. Do you understand me, one for yes, two for no.” Seconds felt like minutes as Mochi and Lucifer stared each other down. One had a smile on their face while the other squinted their eyes in disapproval. The brothers watched the two of them, waiting to see which one would break first. Unfortunately, waiting want not Mammon’s strongest skill.

“Well this was a load of bull-” Suddenly, a hard slap filled the foyer causing everyone to whip their head back to the angry seal. Lucifer’s smile grew wider as his superiority began to leak out. “I’m sorry, I need you to repeat that just to make sure that wasn’t a fluke. Answer my question, do you want to be eaten?” Two slaps. “Do you want to be made into a coat?” Two slaps. Lucifer chuckled as Mammon’s mouth hanged open. “Well, welcome to the House of Lamentation, Mochi. I hope we can get along from now on.” Lucifer smirked.

[delimeful]

Stemming the Tide

writing has been like pulling teeth lately but i managed this little drabble inspired by @smalldrops super gorgeous mermaid art! i went a little off the rails with the plot/tension, but i hope you like it anyhow :P

warnings: fear, capture, mention of starvation, mention of illness, threat of eating people, sad patton hours, everything turns out fine i promise

- Patton had only been looking for a place to rest for the night when he spotted the light. Blue and glowing, a beacon in the dark. 

It was deep waters, the type that he would have avoided if he hadn’t been so desperate to travel quickly. He was risking a lot, down where more vicious predators lurked, but the journey had gone so smoothly, and he was close to finally being home... he’d simply let his guard down. 

It was a mistake to approach the light, one that he didn’t realize until he saw the shadow of something huge move in the water, so large it created small currents with every motion. 

In the next moment, he was swept up in a flurry of bubbles, something cool and leathery wrapping around him and pinning his arms and his satchel to his sides. He caught a glimpse of sharp nails as the light bobbed and swayed above him, and he abruptly realized that it was a giant hand that had grabbed him.  

He couldn’t help but yelp as he was dragged forward, and in the next moment he was feet away from a face large enough to match the hand. A giant mer, Patton realized as he wriggled, tail lashing in panic. The fingers around him only tightened, making him wheeze. In front of him, the mer’s bait light drifted lower, illuminating the both of them. 

The mer was inspecting him with narrowed glowing eyes, bioluminescent freckles to match scattered across his indigo skin. The edges of him seemed to blur into the dark waters around them, but Patton was sure he could see a few serrated fangs poking out past his lips. 

Another hand appeared, webbed fingers carefully brushing over Patton’s shoulders and head as though he couldn’t quite see what he held in his grasp. The smaller mer flinched away automatically, watching those sharp claws as his gills fluttered with the effort of regaining his breath. 

In front of him, the giant mer frowned slightly, ear fins twitching down, and then let out a sigh that ruffled Patton’s hair.  

“You’ll do, I suppose,” he muttered, and began to lift him to his lips, which were parting to display rows of sharp teeth. 

Patton felt a chill run down his spine, and all his frills flared out in alarm. “Wait, wait wait wait wait!”

The mer stilled, and then sighed, pulling his hand back to inspect him once more. “What is it that you have to say, then?” 

Patton blinks, surprised that his calls had actually worked. “Um… Please don’t eat me?” he tried, tail fin twitching nervously. 

The mer pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand, brow crinkling, and took a deep breath. “Look here, and see if you don’t understand.” 

He moved his arm back further, and Patton caught sight of his chest, where his skin stretched taut over his ribs, looking near starved. Below that, the mer’s long and winding tail was half-buried beneath a cascade of heavy rocks and silt. The rocky reefs up above were often unstable, so an avalanche was far from impossible. What was more astonishing was the fact that the mer was still so composed, stuck down here for who knew how long.

“There you have it,” the mer said dryly. “Believe me, I would rather avoid eating anything that can plead for mercy, but unfortunately that is not an option right now. I have to eat, or else I will die. Please do not take it personally.” 

He started to lift his hand again, and Patton patted it (heh) hurriedly to get him to stop. “Hang on, there must be another way! See, I need to get this medicine to Roman-- he’s my best friend and he’s terribly sick-- and I traveled through what feels like the whole ocean to get it, I can’t stop now!” He wiggled the arm closest to his satchel in emphasis.

“I don’t see how that’s particularly relevant to me, since I do not know or care for your friend. Regardless, I don’t see any alternative, and I sincerely doubt that you see one.” 

Patton bit his lip. “Look, I think we got off on the wrong fin. I’m Patton! What’s your name?”

“There is no point in exchanging--,” the mer cut himself off at Patton’s pleading stare, sighing through his nose. “You may call me Logan, but pleasantries don’t change the facts of this situation.” 

“Right, of course.” Patton nodded agreeably, forcing himself to relax his shoulders and stop his tail’s panicked swishing. In response, the hand around him eased it’s grip slightly, and Patton took a grateful deep breath. He had to stay calm. His new acquaintance wanted to eat him, yes, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t work something out!

“Well, Logan…,” he thought hard for a moment, and then brightened. “What if I got something else for you to eat? I could even hunt for you until you get your strength back! On the other hand, if you, um, ate me, then you’d still be stuck all alone down here without knowing if you’ll get any help…” 

He could see the other mer take a moment to consider it, fins twitching in thought, before he shook his head slightly. Patton’s heart sank.

“You have a point, however, those odds are all reliant on your participation. If I release you and you don't return at all, I will be left with nothing. If I…,” Logan shifted uncomfortably, “don’t release you, I will at least live a little longer, and perhaps gain the energy to free myself.” 

“I’m not going to leave you here to starve!” Patton immediately replied, frowning at the thought. 

Logan shook his head, grip closing in around Patton again, firmer this time. “I simply can’t be sure of that. You want to survive as badly as I do. You would say anything to be free of me.” 

“I… I don’t have anything to prove it but my word, though,” Patton said, voice growing smaller as panic filled his lungs. He thought about Roman, acres away, growing sicker and sicker as he waited for Patton to return. The other mer would die thinking Patton had abandoned him. He felt like sobbing, and forced himself to speak through the lump in his throat. “Logan, please, I promise I’ll come back.”

Logan turned his face away, avoiding eye contact, and Patton’s frills flattened against the sides of his head despondently. He… he really wasn’t going to get out of this one, was he? 

Rough cloth pressed into his side uncomfortably, and he jerked his head up, struck with an idea. “Oh! Logan!” 

The large mer’s glowing eyes locked back onto him, surprise flitting across his features. 

“The bag-- My bag! Can you just,” he wriggled his shoulders a little, and Logan obligingly loosened his grip enough for Patton to work his arms out, “thank you!” 

With slightly shaky hands, he pulled the strap of his satchel over his head, tugging the precious bag up into his arms and forcing himself to hold it out. “Here. If you manage to escape, then, after you-- after I’m gone, can you, um... Please, can you take this to Roman?” 

He leaned forward, pushing it towards Logan pleadingly. “He doesn't have anyone else, and if he doesn't get it--,” his voice cracked painfully, and he had to pause to collect himself, swallowing thickly.

Logan reached out with his other hand, delicately pinching the strap between two claws and letting the bag settle in his palm. Patton slumped against the hand around him, relieved and desolate in equal measures. 

“Th-- Thank you. Thank you, Logan.” He felt his heart beating rapidly in his chest, knowing what it meant, that Logan had agreed. 

Hopefully, the giant mer would be able to get free. Patton truly believed that Logan would hold up his end of the deal. He was going to die here, but… at least Roman might live. That was better than nothing, right? 

He closed his eyes tightly, waiting for what he knew would happen next. The hand around him moved, lifting him through the water, and… loosened? 

Patton opened his eyes, surprised, and his fins fluttered to keep him upright as the hand fell away entirely. A primal part of his mind screeched for him to bolt, but his curiosity and the knowledge that he needed that medicine kept him treading water in place.

“Fine,” Logan said, rubbing at his temple as though he had a headache. “Fine! We’ll try it your way.” 

Patton blinked, once, twice. Then-- “Really?!”

“Yes, really,” Logan grumped, settling back against the seafloor. “But I am keeping your medicine as collateral, so don’t even contemplate betraying me.”

Patton flipped and twisted a couple of times in the water, too ecstatic to keep still. “I don’t know what collateral means, but I would never leave a r-eel-y good friend like you behind!”

 “Keep up those atrocious puns and I’ll be the one going back on my word,” Logan replied in a monotone, expression flat. Patton muffled a laugh, not threatened in the least, and Logan rolled his eyes. “Proceed with your hunting, already.”

“Okay! Be back soon!” 

“...Okay.” 

[one-boring-person]

Behave Yourself.

Paul (The Lost Boys) x reader

Warnings: some bad language, mild injury, implied/very mild sexual content

Context: The reader works as a security guard on the Boardwalk, and is in a relationship with our favourite Count Fidget, Paul.😁

A/N: I hope to hell my inspiration comes back quickly, as this is already not quite to the standard I wish it was at, but anyhow, I hope it is enjoyable 😅💛💛

Masterlist

Every job has it's perks. Some of them totally out do the cons of a particular job, but some, like mine, have very little influence on how enjoyable the experience is, especially since the job itself can be incredibly energy-draining at times. Any job as a security guard takes a certain knack for not taking anyone's crap, a courage which any good one needs in order to be able to ignore the remarks and jibes from disgruntled people around them, but as a security guard working on the Boardwalk of Santa Carla, it can be very difficult to uphold these standards.

A dull ache has started in my chest from where some Surf Nazi has jabbed me, trying to threaten me into submission after I wouldn't allow him to use the carousel, having recognised him from a few nights before, where he started a brawl amongst a group of young kids, severely injuring one or two. Naturally, I'd taken this in my stride, not rising to the bait despite the rising frustration within me, my hand itching to crack him across the face, a neutral expression remaining in place on my face as I calmly told him to leave. Of course, he couldn't just do as he was told, instead deciding that squaring up with me was the better idea, though I quickly showed him the error of his ways, disabling him in seconds with only a hard prod against my chest being landed by him, sending him on his way with an angry grumble. Internally, I'm glad he hasn't tried to get back at me yet, though I'm well aware my shift has half an hour still to go, which is plenty of time for him still to try.

A pair of arms wrap around my waist, snapping me from my thoughts as a familiar scent envelopes me, alerting me to who my assailant is immediately. Chuckling, I remain standing upright, knowing that if I'm caught being "intimate" with a member of the public whilst on duty, I'll be fired, choosing instead to keep my eyes focused on the busy crowd ahead of me.

"Hey there, hot stuff." Paul greets, pressing a kiss to my cheek as he presses his chest to my back, trying to get a response out of me.

"Hey Mophead." I return, briefly turning my head to give him a swift kiss on the lips, pulling away seconds later so as not to draw attention to us, laughing at his whine of complaint.

"Busy night?" He asks, tightening his grip when I try to unlatch his arms from around me, holding me against his lean yet muscular body with ease.

"So-so. Sleep well?" I confirm, finally managing to pry his arms apart slightly, only to groan when they instantly move to pin mine to my sides.

"So-so." He mimics, the grin on his face almost audible as I wriggle in his grip, trying to escape, "Where're you trying to go?"

"Paul, you know damn well that I'll get in trouble if anyone reports seeing me like this. Let me go!" I playfully scold him, eyeing the crowd dubiously.

"Nah, I like having you in my arms. You're comfortable." He declines, pressing his face into my hair, or rather, trying to, the stupid cap my superiors make me wear getting in the way. He whines a little at this but is quick to remedy it, using his teeth to pull it off and drop it to the floor.

"Hey! Behave yourself! As much as I hate this job sometimes, I'd still like to keep it! Let me go, I promise I'll give you lots of attention later!" I protest, trying to bargain with him, especially when I feel his hands start to wander, "Paul, I swear to god if you even try something innapropriate here, I'll personally bathe you in holy water."

He only chuckles, kissing at my neck in response, his hand moving to untuck my uniform shirt from my belt, icy fingers tracing the skin that he manages to reveal before my own hands have clasped his wrists, having finally gotten free.

"Paul!" I warn him, spotting another guard a little way off, the muscular guy heading in my direction even if he isn't really paying much attention.

"Aww, such a killjoy." The vampire teases, licking a stripe up my neck as he pulls away from me, moving to stand beside me, a smirk on his face as I tidy my uniform up again.

"At least wait until we're somewhere private. You can come over to mine after I finish, if you want?" I offer, adjusting my composure accordingly.

"I'd never say no." Paul grins, winking at me suggestively.

"You are unbelievable, is everything about sex with you?" I say in exasperation, shooing him off as the other guard gets closer.

"You love it." He responds, leaning over to catch my lips in a rough kiss before he saunters away, leaving me frustrated and eager to get my shift over with.

Unfortunately, this takes longer than anticipated, due to a fight breaking out near the entrance, where a Surf Nazi has managed to offend a Metalhead, the two of them already beating each other into the ground by the time the guards in the area get there. In the process of separating them, a few of us (including me) got a little knocked about, resulting in some bruises, and even a nosebleed in someone else's case, meaning we needed to be checked over before we could leave. By the time it's all over, it's nearly twelve, at which point my shift should've finished an hour ago.

The walk home is no better, the stretch of road lonely and long as I go over it, knowing that Paul is most likely waiting for me at the house, which is why I can't get a ride off him. The air around me is cold, which is surprising given the time of year, making me shiver a little as I go, my hands instinctively moving to pull my jacket tighter over my uniform, concealing it from the view of the few other pedestrians I pass, though none of them pay any attention to me anyway. About half way through, my ribs start hurting on one side, where I took a blow from the Metalhead involved in the fight, the bruise starting to play up, making me slow in my stride so as not to hurt myself too badly, though I know it isn't a bad injury at all, just an awkward one. Annoyingly, this means I only arrive at my house twenty or so minutes later than I should've done, but I don't think much of it until I open the front door.

Instantly, I'm pressed up against it, a lanky body pinning me to the hard surface, hands pushing mine above my head. In the dark, his eyes appear black, though I don't get much time to see them before he's buried his face into my neck, lips busying themselves there as he kisses and licks at the soft skin, biting down here and there as harshly as he can without breaking skin, his actions drawing a surprised groan from me, my chest arching into his. Paul chuckles lowly into my pulsepoint, nosing his way back up to my jaw, where he nibbles a path to my lips. To my dismay, however, he stops there, pulling back a little.

"You're late." His breath fans hotly over my face, his hips pressing into mine.

"I got held up. There was a fight." I respond, eager to get back to it as I lean forwards, kissing him carefully, fully expecting him to back away and tease me for it, brief yet pleased surprise flaring up in me when he reciprocates with equal roughness, trailing his hands down my arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. As soon as they are released, I move my own hands to his hair, where I intertwine my fingers with the soft strands, pulling him closer as his move further down my body.

Once more, Paul's lips travel down the length of my neck, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses along the prominent vein pulsing under my skin, reminding me of my vulnerability, a moan leaving me as he brushes past my sweet spot, my grip in his hair tightening. Smirking against me, the vampire bites down on the area, being sure to leave it unbroken, his hands smoothing up and down my sides, having pushed up under my shirt, until a gasp of pain manages to escape me from where he passes over the bruise on my ribs, at which point he pulls away, confused and concerned.

"Are you ok? Did I hurt you?" He questions, moving back a bit so he can look me over, trying to find the source of my discomfort.

"I'm fine, you didn't do anything. I just took a blow from one of the kids in the fight." I reassure him, caressing his hair with a small smile on my face.

"You took a blow? Where?" His worry is sweet, hands pushing up my shirt to look for the offending injury.

"My ribs, but it's honestly fine, it's really not that ba-" I go to say, only to be cut off by a hiss of pain when he drags a thumb over the area (accidentally of course), eliciting a little noise of apology from him.

"I don't believe you." Is all he says before he's lifted me up, wrapping my legs around his waist as he carries me further into the house, going to my bedroom. Once inside, he somehow manages to pull off my boots and jacket without putting me down, climbing onto the bed with me on top of him, arms cradling me against his chest. For little while, we remain there, his fingers massaging soothing circles into my tight muscles, encouraging out the knots as I let little gasps of air leave me every now and then, thoroughly enjoying being in his arms.

"I was wrong." I suddenly speak up, resting my chin on his chest as I look into his eyes.

"About what?" He inquires, looking puzzled.

"About everything being about sex with you. You can be really sweet, too." I smile at him, chuckling when he rolls his eyes.

"Only for you." He promises, now laughing at my own eyeroll.

"Bullshit, you can be really sweet with the boys, too." I remind him, tracing a pattern into his chest with a fingertip.

"Now, that is bullshit." He says in response, smirking at me.

"It isn't."

"It is."

"Isn't."

"Is."

"Isn't."

"Is-"

"I won't tell anyone." I reassure him, grinning at the protesting vampire.

"Fine. Swear to it." He grits out after a few moments, having apparently considered the offer.

"I swear."

"Good." He smiles down at me, chuckling when I yawn, the hours having caught up to me, "You should get some sleep."

"Are you sure? Won't it be annoying for you?" I question, too tired now to argue.

"Nah, I like sleeping with you." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at this, obviously having an alternative meaning behind the words, giggling when I slap at his chest in mock disgust.

"Weirdo."

"Your weirdo." He points out, blue eyes sparkling in the dim light.

"Of course."

[poptod]

can i get something with webb porter where reader is a competing serial killer and it’s an enemies to lovers sort of plot? kind of a dark idea but i got it from criminal minds and excited to see your take on it. thanks again!

notes: this got VERY morbid so apologies for that, but i hope its kind of what you were thinking of. so, WARNING: some serious violence! psychopathic themes! gore descriptions!

WC: 1.8k

+

Fucking bastard, you thought, sipping on your morning tea. The latest newspaper sat in your hand, folded out open upon the small breakfast table in your kitchen. On the front, 'SERIAL KILLER STRIKES AGAIN', written in black letters, accompanied by a dead woman's face.

There were several layers to your annoyance, the most prominent being the fact that you didn't commit it. They put your 'media name' on the front as the perpetrator, but it wasn't you, a fact that had the police seriously mixing up your murders with those of a man by the name of Webb Porter. That was the other layer to it – you caught him at a bad time, he caught you at a bad time, and suddenly it was a race to see who could push the law furthest without getting arrested. Now he had to go and kill another woman and dump her body in front of the police station. Ballsy move for sure, but not wise. Despite knowing better you still bit on your tongue, already thinking on what you could do in return.

You could still remember your first meeting a few months back. It was evening in the city, and though you promised yourself you wouldn't do anything on your night out, there was a man who pushed your patience a little too far. So you slipped and lodged a fork in his chest cavity. Fun stuff, really – not that much blood unfortunately, but the bitter scent of alleyway trash did its' job in intoxicating you.

While you were looking for a bat to finish the job with, you saw him – with wide eyes the two of you made eye contact, a passed out man in your arms and a half-dead woman in his. Neither of you said a word until the deed was done, yours with a drained beer bottle and his with a metal pipe. Blood drained from either side of the dumpster, trickling down into the sewer as the two of you moved aside, reluctant to dirty your feet with evidence.

It was almost nice, secluded in that little corner of the city, watching all that blood glitter in the seedy backlight of a shitty bar. You adored the sight of it, the way it moved and dried on your fingers, the taste in your mouth, the sight of blood-covered hands, the feel of a blood-splattered kiss.

"You do this often?" You asked quietly, your eyes still trained on your body.

"Sometimes," he mumbled.

You waited a couple more minutes before deciding you should probably hide the body.

"I'll see you in the papers tomorrow, then," you said as you moved forward, grunting with the effort to raise the man from his slumped position amongst the garbage.

"I'll be on the front," he said in the same soft voice, moving to take care of his own body.

"Like hell you will," you muttered, but apparently it was loud enough for him to hear, and motivating enough for him to commit a double murder that landed him on the front page.

Thus your little 'game' began with the only rule being a silent one; don't kill the other. The thought had occurred to you multiple times, imagining what his blood would look like on your floor, picturing the way he would beg for mercy tied up to your bed. A smile made its' way to your face when you thought of it again – he'd be so beautiful like that. Still, that wasn't an option. The only thing you could really do was to try and outdo him and hope it impressed him. Maybe he'd voluntarily come to get tied up to your bed. You doubted it, but kept hope nonetheless.

After finishing up your morning tea and fully reading through the article about you that was really about Porter, you took care of your dishes, cleaning up the rest of the kitchen as you did so. You had no work for the day, leaving your schedule open for some plotting. Just the simple stuff; victim, weapon, place. Most likely you wouldn't commit to it the same day, but stranger things had happened, and you had a bit of a lust for the squelching sound of a dagger twisting in a stomach.

Your motivation for murder was incredibly simple. Just the bloodlust – pools of blood, the snap of bones, that kind of thing. What you were doing was wrong and you knew that perfectly well, but your thirst overpowered it all. The desire too strong, like a beautiful woman, like the call of the sea, like the pull to bite at clavicles and break the skin. Porter on the other hand, you had no idea why he did it – at first you assumed his motivations were close to those of your own, but there was a pattern in his deaths, one that wasn't present in your own. Eventually you decided he probably had some mental issues unfamiliar to yourself. Still, it didn't really matter – all that mattered was you staying out of the police's clutches, which wasn't too hard for either of you with the police on a wild goose hunt for the mystic fusion of you and Porter.

By the end of the day you broke the quiet promise you made to yourself in the morning, which was 'don't do anything murderous today'. It wasn't really your fault, anyhow; you were just checking out the routines of a woman in the city, she accidentally caught you, and you had to do some freestyle. That meant the switching of weapons. Originally you had meant to kill her with wire around her neck, but with scarce materials, you ended up hitting her over the head with a metal chair.

Dragging her body to the nearest landfill, you hid in the dark of evening, scouring the heaps of trash for something to finish the job with. Something sharp. Your last kill hadn't resulted in much blood, and ever since that disappointment you had been itching for the sight of it again. Several times you'd even drawn your own blood, just to watch it trickle down your arm, pooling at the base where your wrist leant against the sink counter.

"You're getting messy," said a voice from behind you, a low and lilting voice whose quiet words grinded against your head. You whipped around, hand instantly going to your pocket knife before you caught sight of the man, a sigh of relief leaving you.

"Porter," you said bitterly, sending a glare his way.

"(L/N)," he said, wandering out from behind a hill of discarded tires. "You didn't even do your research."

"Thrill of the moment, I'm afraid," you said as you rubbed your nose, eyes never leaving him.

"I would..." his gaze fell to the blacked out woman, "never be so.. unorganized."

"I'm not all that much of a planner. I'm assuming you are," you said with a grunt, forcing the woman's dismembered arm into the plastic bag, "considering how anal you are."

"I'm not anal," he snapped, and though he kept the same quiet tone, it was the loudest you'd ever heard him speak. Enough to make you turn and stare at him.

"Someone's touchy," you sighed, turning back to hacking off the woman's other arm.

Hoisting the dull ax, you once more swung it down, blood spitting out onto your face as a sick crack came from the woman's shoulder. You grinned – the copper taste of blood trickled sweet onto your tongue. Behind you, Webb tensed, shivering at the sight of your blown-out eyes.

"Why do you do that?" He asked, breaking you from your spell.

"Do what?" You wiped your bloodstained nose with a bloodstained hand.

"Get... messy," he said, his eyes suddenly turning soft, as they did when his curiosity surpassed his distaste for you.

"I like it," you said with a grin, shifting your feet to face him. Your ax gleamed in the moon's light, his own reflection caught in the dripping crimson, poised to use again. For the first time he took a step away from you. "I love the feeling of blood on my skin. Love how you can warp people's bones and they won't cry. I actually tried to keep them alive, at first – but it's hard to muffle that kind of yelling... hard to hide a live person in your basement. Why, does it scare you?"

His eyes widened imperceptibly, taking another step back as you took one forward.

"I've been wondering, just in my spare time," you mumbled, "why do you do it?"

He wasn't a violent person beyond that specific urge of his to drown women. You hated that you knew that, but after the amount of time you spent stalking him, you had to know. Generally, he didn't hurt people – in fact he was a withdrawn man, quiet but polite and courteous. He kept plants and fed stray cats. In your experience, withdrawn, male serial killers didn't tend to much else besides themselves. So what made him do it?

"It's the only thing that gives me stability," he whispered, voice cracking when he met your eye.

"There's better things to give you that than murdering," you said with a chuckle.

"Says the one who likes the taste of blood," he bit back.

"Well, you've never tried it," you said, a sly grin slowly making its' way across your face. You stepped closer yet, and though his eyes widened further, he didn't move. "You should. Then you'll know what killing really is, and you can decide if its something you really want to be doing."

At your words his shoulders tightened, feet fumbling as he stepped away from you, unable to break eye contact. Before he could make another move you grabbed his wrist, pulling him close to you. Your chest pressed against his, the woman's blood smearing onto his dress shirt and crawling up his arm as he inhaled sharp, nothing but nerves in your touch. You almost grinned – he was so responsive with you.

Leading him back to the woman, you forced him to stand before her with an ax in his hand. You kept close, your chest against his back, your hand over his and guiding it upwards.

"Breathe deep. It takes more force than you think it will," you whispered into his ear, delighting in the shiver that ran down his back.

With your help he brought it down, flinching at the dull squish. He hadn't managed to break any more bone, but he'd gotten through some ligaments, which wasn't worth nothing considering his horrified state.

"How does that feel, Webb?" You asked, dropping the ax in favor of trailing your finger up the blood splatter staining his shirt, a smear of red leading up his chest.

"Warm."

[fallen029]

Missing You

She'd been slinging drinks all day, dodging compliments left and right, all while plastering that same stupid smile on her face and it was just a stressful day, honestly, for Mirajane. No more so than usual, but for some reason, it felt extra strenuous as her sister, who'd been helping during busy shifts recently, had absconded off with Natsu and Happy, which left her and Kinana to be slammed all alone.

Which wasn't a problem. Not in the slightest. Nope. Mirajane worked with a smile on her face and kind words on her tongue as the drunks and rowdy guild members absolutely wrecked the place. Master Makarov and Erza were out, the former at a conference and the latter on an S-Class job, which meant there was no chance of either arriving back any time soon and that meant, for the past day or so, that they could all act like complete fools if they so wished.

And oh, at Fairy Tail, they always wished.

Mirajane wished for things too. A lot of things. But one thing in particular, that day, as she found her eyes lingering on the door in the few moments she had to take a breath, hoping and waiting. But each and every time, as her bated breath was shattered by disappointment, whenever it was opened, the thick guildhall doors revealed any number of members other than the exact one she wanted to see.

She did find a smile truly gracing her lips, however, when after all the hoopla the evening brought died down and the place started to clear out, her younger brother came to remark how he'd stick around till she and Kinana finished closing up.

"Always good to have a strong man to walk you home, huh?" he offered and Kinana giggled while Mira, not so sure on who would protect who out of the two of them, only let a hand grace his bicep thankfully.

Elfman helped Kinana clean up around the place, making idle chatter with the mostly agreeable woman, while Mirajane disappeared into Master Makarov's office to put away the jewels for the day. And though she was in something of a rush, hoping to get home to sink into her sheets before it got too late as, of course, she'd have to be right back at the bar, bright and early the next morning, least it not be opened properly, Mirajane still found herself falling into the Master's comfortable chair, her tired feet thankful for even the littlest of reprieves.

It had been a long few weeks. Not that anything truly had changed. Not really. She held things down at the bar and watched all her friends come, go, leave, return. She listed to their stories with bright eyes, interjecting with the silliest of thoughts, ponderings, causing mystification and awe with each conversation. She took breaks with Lucy and Plue, were the celestial mage around to accomadate this, and when she wasn't, either found herself making chatter with Levy or Laki. Once, before she left on her newest S-Class job, Mira and Erza talked idly for a good ten minutes, in a way they hadn't in what felt like years.

Things had been great.

But...something was missing.

Something always felt like it was missing in Mirajane's life. And wasn't it? Loss had followed her from birth till that moment, as she sat in the too old Master's chair who, honestly, she imagined some days, when he was coughing a bit too much, hobbling far too often, and just overall looked unwell, would more than likely be the next hole she'd never be able to fill. Though it was his scent, his presence, that encapsulated the entire back office, as Mira sank further into his desk chair, it was another Dreyar that she found her mind drifting towards.

It was just hard. Sometimes.

When he went out on jobs. Especially the long ones. It was the name of the game, especially with how high ranking he was, but…

She'd thought that she'd fallen asleep. Maybe she had. But it was the sound of the guild hall doors opening and closing, a sound that echoed through the mostly empty hall, that jolted her awake, as well as the sound of her boisterous younger brother calling out, "Bar's closed for the night."

There was a pause, though not a tense one, before a simple response of, "Yeah? Well I ain't here for the bar."

Mirajane shoved up then, at the voice, and though she was too tired to rush, she did make it back into the main part of the hall in time to catch the need of Elfman's reply.

"Then what," he questioned simply, "are you here for, Laxus?"

He didn't rightly answer, the blond slayer didn't. He wasn't the type to think that he had to do much of that, answering, to those who he deemed lower than himself. And oh, Elfman was way lower than him. Still, this wasn't quite the reason he fell silent as, instead of speaking to the man, his eyes had fallen away, off to the side where, from the darkened back hallway, Mirajane emerged, surprise etched into her features.

Noting his gaze, Elfman glanced that way too. When all he saw was his sister though, he laughed, slightly, before saying, "Hate to tell ya this, but Master's out. Conference. It was just Mirajane back there."

But it was never just Mirajane, to the man.

"Is that right?" he questioned back to Elfman who, simply, nodded. Snorting, Laxus looked away from Mira's captivating blue eyes, and instead shrugged his shoulders some. "My mistake."

"Well, I think he'll be back soon," Kinana offered from where she was now, wiping down the bar. "Laxus. Oh, I know! If you're too busy to come by the next few days, just to see when he gets in, you could write it down. Or tell it to one of us. I'm sure we'll remember to pass the message along. And if it's really serious, then-"

"It's personal," the slayer offered bluntly before, again, shrugging. "I'll handle speaking to Gramps on my own. Just got into town, passed by, saw the lights still all on, and thought I'd come in and say hello to the old geezer. Speak on a few things. But since you're all around- Say, what are you all doing here so late anyhow?"

"It's not so late," Kinana offered with a slight smile. "It's rather normal, for closing hours."

"Is it?"

Elfman though, who was sweeping, huffed some as he went back to it, "Real men know how to delegate. That's why my sister has me doing this. She's a real man."

Finally finished with sticking to the shadows, the woman in question walked further into the main hall as she said, "Elf, I think you and Kinana have done enough, honestly. Lisanna is supposed to come by in the morning to help me open up. Why don't you guys head out without me?"

"Us?" Elfman dropped his broom with a frown. "No way, sis. I'm walkin' ya both home. Of course I am. Why else would I have stayed? We'll wait for you."

"It's really no bother, Mira," Kinana tried to help. "I'm just finishing up back here and-"

"I still have to mop around the pool," Mira told them simply. "It's silly for you guys to stick around for that."

"Then it's silly for you to stick around for it," Elfman argued. "I'll mop around the pool! And do whatever else you need. And-"

"Elf-"

"Hey, Elfman, I just got in town, yeah?" Laxus, suddenly, was talking again, arms folded over his chest as he stared at the man quizzically. "So, man to man, can you tell me something?"

At the sound of that, the larger man puffed out his chest, turning from his sister to the slayer.

"Of course," he bellowed. "What's up, Laxus?"

"It's just," the blond began, "I'm a man. And when I get back in town, after not seein' my woman for awhile, the only thing I wanna do is get to her. You know?"

"I," Elfman declared, honestly not even really considering the question, "know."

"If my woman was a mage even, I mean, the second she got back from a long job," the man kept up, "I'd probably be trying to get to her as soon as possible."

"As soon as possible, yep. Checks out."

"So how is it," Laxus finally asked, "that I just got back in town, with the Thunder Legion, after almost a month away, and you're sticking around here, with your sister, having her hand out chores to ya, like you're a little boy, while your woman, Evergreen, is only blocks away, in an empty bed? Just don't make sense to me."

He seemed uncomfortable then, Elfman did, as his chest deflated some and he remarked, "Well...Ever and I aren't exactly-"

"You were all she talked about," Laxus went on. "Was missin' you somethin' fierce, she said, a few times. Couldn't wait to get back to her man, she insisted. But here you are, hanging around the hall, so late at night-"

"Ever… She usually is the one, you know, to, uh, initiate… Well, she lives in the dorms and-"

"And?" Laxus clicked his tongue with a shake of his head. "My woman did, I'd be sneakin' into that place every fuckin' night. To, you know, fuck. Like a man."

"Yeah," Elfman agreed as Mirajane's eyes widened and Kinana, blushing, busied herself with wiping down the bar. "To fuck."

"Just what I was thinkin', s'all." Again, the slayer shrugged, with a sigh. "I'd be climbin' up to my woman's window, knockin' on the glass, askin' if she would let me in."

"Really? That's...what a man would do?"

"Aye," Laxus decided with a nod. "I'd say it's what a...real man would do."

Elfman paused, standing there for a second in thought. Then, with a shake of his head, saying, "I got to walk my sister and Kinana home. A really real man keeps his word, after all."

"Oh." The slayer seemed rather remorseful over this, mimicking how down the big oaf looked before, with a snap of his fingers, he said, "Say, Kinana, you live in the dorms, huh? So, Elfman, if you walked her home, she could probably sneak ya in, right? Get you right to Ever's door where, you know, you knock and all that? Surprise her?"

"Could you?" When Elfman looked to Kinana, her cheeks were still rosy, but the woman nodded regardless. "That'd be great! That- Oh. Mirajane. I said I'd walk my sister home too."

"Well, I'm here." Laxus patted at his chest then. "And since you've had this whole conversation with me, what if I, as another man, do you the honor, huh? Walk your sister home?"

"Really?" Elfman tossed an arm in the air at the slayer's nod. "Alright! C'mon Kinana! Let's get outta here."

"Take a bottle of wine," Mirajane suggested as, recovering, she had something of a knowing smile on her face. But it wasn't meant for her brother. At all. "I'll talk to you tomorrow. Both of you."

They let them leave, Mirajane and Laxus did, watching as Kinana giggled and Elfman practically bounced with excitement, the pair leaving the hall together in record time. Mira and Laxus even waited a minute, just to be sure, just to be certain that finally, after so long, they were alone.

"Knock on many windows, mister?" she asked, "Knocking on doors in the middle of the night?"

"Fuck no. That's desperate shit."

"And my dragon's not desperate."

She was coming closer, as she spoke, while Laxus only shook his head.

"What's there to be desperate for?" he questioned as, the second she was in front of her, he reached for her, his jacket falling to the ground, but neither rightly caring to retrieve it. "When you're me? And got your very own demon, right there waiting for you at home?"

"You didn't always," she pointed out, but again, there was a shake of his soft, blond locks.

"What exists before me and you, huh, demon?" He was grinning, truly, not a brilliant one, but enough to bring a real one out from the woman as she stared up into his dark eyes. "Nothin' I'm interested in."

"You're gonna get my brother in trouble, you know," she thought to say. "Sneaking around the girls dorm."

"Erza'll just kick his ass right out," he assured the woman. "Make for an eventful evenin' for the guy, anyways."

"Was Evergreen even truly asking for him?"

"How should I know? When I spent every second I wasn't zeroed in on my job thinkin' about you?" One of his hands came up then, to tug her bangs down and Mirajane laughed, falling into his chest.

"I missed you," she whispered softly to the fabric of his shirt and the slayer didn't have that same, in complete control tone he seemed to take so often. "Laxus."

"I missed you too," he assured the woman. "Mirajane. I love you."

Giggling, she fell away from him some then, fighting the yawn that crept up her throat as she remarked, "I don't think we'll be doing much tonight, you know. I think it's very cute that you came all this way just to see me, but I'm so tired, I… I wish I could stay up, to do something with you, but-"

"I just wanna get you home, in bed," he told the man simply, "and fall asleep. Just so I can wake up next to you again. It's what I miss the most. When I'm away."

"Really?"

"Well," he offered and Mira found herself giggling into her palm, "one of the things."

"I want to do everything," she insisted though, "with you. Dragon. That I've missed."

"We will." He even nodded. "I'm plannin' on sticking around for a bit and we'll get to each and every thing on your list. I promise. But for tonight," and he was reaching then, to take her hand, drag her out of the place, mopping be damned, "I just want to be with you. Just next to you's enough. For now. Demon."

She snagged his coat on the way out, wishing to wrap it around her shoulders. The second they were outside, in the cool air, she found she was thankful for this, and snuggled into the garment as she locked up the thick guildhall doors.

"It will be nice," she mused as the slayer stood behind her, watching this. "I like your bed so much more than my own."

"Shouldda known. Wantin' me for my bed." He tsked some, as she was the one then, all finished up, to come snag his hand and drag him across the Fairy Tail grounds. "Sounds exactly like somethin' a demon would do."

"I want you for more than that, dragon," she assured him, but just as the man started to grin again, she said, "The jewels you bring in are a nice prize as well."

Grunting some, he held her hand tightly as they started off into the night together, headed back to his apartment for the first time in a good bit. To the woman, he remarked, "Anything good happen when I was gone?"

"No," Mira easily answered while smiling up at the man. "Nothing as good as you coming back."

[just-another-author-i-guess]

The Unholy

Warnings: she/her pronounced reader, very detailed making out, hickeys, some dry humping, Tae and Hobi being horndogs, mentions of blood and biting, i was too lazy to edit it through so yeah

Pairing: bts ot7 x reader, nun! reader, princess! reader, vampire! Jin x reader, hybrid! Namjoon x reader, hybrid! Yoongi x reader, vampire! Hoseok x reader, vampire! Jimin x reader, hybrid! Taehyung x reader, hybrid! Jungkook x reader

Parts: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 -

Authors note: uuugh so part 2 is finally up! I’m sorry I’m so bad at getting things done, please don’t yell at me); anyways I’ve been really excited to make this! But tbh, I have no idea where this story is going, this is just kinda what pops into my head! But still, I hope you’ll enjoy the story nonetheless!

(Updates; every Sunday)

Summary:

The king and queen, your mother and father, rules the southern kingdom. The eastern and the western are ruled by kings and queens alike, but the northern are ruled by the most unholy of creatures. Or so you’ve been told.

Every citizen in the three kingdoms, have been warned about the creatures of the north, and it is with good reason they’re all terrified. All your life, your parents have tried to keep the knowledge of the northern creatures from you, but that just made you more curious.

Everyday, you would sneak down to the castle library, and read everything you could about the north, wanting to know the secret behind the unholy land. That of course didn’t go well with your parents, and when they found out they decided to send you to the most holy of places, to forget about everything you’ve read. One of the biggest church organizations in the south agreed to take you in, to rehabilitate you and learn you that you should never question such things as the northern creatures.

By day, you follow the strict prioress around as she lectures you about the holy and the unholy, and by night, you have to go on patrol alone through the church as a punishment for reading about the unholy.

But one night, everything changes, when you find the prioress dead, with bite marks all over her body. Of course, you have read about this, and you know exactly what killed her. But what happens when that exact creature you’ve read about, shows up right in front of you?

(please dm me of you want to be added)

(Also I am so sorry if I missed someone)

Taglist:

@sweetcrvture @boononx @i-am-supermerwholoked221b @karissassirak @bvblackarmy @queenbianca-7 @someslightobsessions

The carriage bumped yet again, and you flew forward for the fifth time already. Quickly, steadying yourself with a string of embarrassed coughs.

Not a word had been spoken between you and Seokjin, since the arrival of the black carriage you now were sitting in. You weren’t quite sure were the carriage at come from, and how the driver knew that it was needed; you weren’t even sure it was actually Seokjin’s, but anyhow you ended up sitting stiffly inside it, trying not to stare too much at the vampire before you.

He hadn’t made a move the entire ride, not even a facemucsle did he move, the only thing showing that he was actually alive and not a statue, being his Adam’s apple that would bop almost violently every few minutes. You wondered what he was thinking about.

Your eyes followed the almost hypnotic motion of his Adam’s apple, focusing intently on the way it seemed to grow bigger in his throat before helplessly plopping down again in a swollowing motion.

Your mind instantly flashed to when he had taken your blood, just a couple hours earlier, how it must have bopped even more violently as he sank big mouthfuls of your precious red liquid down.

The thought made a strange sensation shoot through the two wounds on your neck, your hand absentmindedly coming up to delicately brush your fingertips against the slowly healing surface. The pain that once had almost numbed your entire body, was now a dull ache. It felt almost nice, the throbbing sensations in your wound running out to the rest of your body, feeling almost like a second heart.

You noticed how the two wounds seemed much warmer than the rest of your body, swallowing hard, as the tips of your fingers seemed to create a delicious friction against the itchy exterior of the wounds.

The nice feeling, making heatwaves rediate off the wounds, shooting directly down into your belly, creating even more warmth.

Slowly, you let your fingertips slip away from the wound, as your hand tiredly fell down into your lap, where the other one was already resting. Carefully, you tipped your head, leaning it against the cool window, trying to escape some of the heat that had now also travelled to your head.

You let your eyelids fall down and rob you off your vision, as the weight of the last few hours began to weigh you down. So much had happened, and so much was about to happen, but one thing was for sure; you could never return to your old life again.

You knew that if your parents, or anyone else found out you had willingly ventured into the north, and not even alone but accompanied by one of the creatures from said place, you would be executed the moment you sat foot in one of the other regions.

The princess who traveled to the land of her kingdoms most feared enemy.

The thought of worry were quickly being pushed aside, by the continuing thumps and throbs shooting through you like a clock. You didn’t get scared by how hard the throbs had gotten, quite on the contrary it calmed you and you let out a content sigh, focusing completely on the way your wound warmed you up.

Not long after, your eyes fluttered for the last time, and your breathing became heavier by the second, lulling you into a peaceful, heavy sleep, your mind going out like a light as drifted off to nothingness.

You awoke by the feeling of cold hands gripping you, and soft, smooth fabric against your hands, as you subconsciously gripped it harder, sliding your fingers over it.

Your mind was foggy, as you tried to open your eyes, feeling like you should be alarmed by your current situation, but your mind wouldn’t let any worrying feelings shine through, and the only feeling there was, were the warmth you had fallen asleep with, accompanied by the cold hands locked around you.

Slowly, tiredly, your eyes fluttered open, and you were met by the mop of Seokjin’s black hair, as he stood bend over you, trying to as carefully as possible, to tuck your body into the awaiting bed.

He felt so cold. Why was he cold?

Worryingly, you furrowed your eyebrows, mind still fuzzy as you tried to figure out how he was so incredibly cold, and why you were so amazingly warm.

“Lie down. Sleep. I’ll be back soon, don’t leave this room, understood?”

He asked, face expressionless, as he let you drop down into the soft pillows and blankets, merely nodding in response, as the bed consumed your body whole, making you even more tired and fuzzy, fog already clouding your eyes.

“Understood?”

He asked again, tone more commanding this time, and you wanted nothing more than to answer him, like you would of it weren’t for the fog completely numming your brain.

“..yes.”

With slurred words, you almost vomited the words out, and watched as he nodded once, before turning to leave. You felt like crying, as he slowly disappeared, trying to remember how to beg him to stay. You couldn’t remember the words, you couldn’t remember any words really, only pathetically lifting your hand from the pillows, making grabby motions towards his back.

The further he got from you, the clearer your mind got, until you could remember everything vividly, how he had sucked you almost dry, how he had killed all those men on the square and how he had forbid you to leave the room just a couple minutes ago.

You sat up in the bed, the tiredness disappearing along with the fuzzyness. You exhaled, a breath you didn’t even know you had been holding, as you carefully swung your legs over the side of the big, queen sized bed, freeing yourself of the almost suffocating, dark red covers.

What had just happened?

Did Seokjin do something to you? You were almost sure he did, but what exactly did he do?

You pressed your palm against your forehead, sticky from sweat, as a pounding began, feeling like your brain slammed against your skull with every thud of your heart.

You groaned, and stood up fully, to slowly walk yourself over to a full body mirror in the corner.

You gasped.

You looked like you had been dragged through a battlefield, tied to a wild horse. You black dress was ripped and dirty, blood splatters everywhere, especially visible on the white sleeves of the dress you wore under. Your hair that was once pinned back neatly, looking almost like a lions mane, all tangly and big. But worst of all your face, you were pale, white as a ghost, with multiple bruises covering you, trailing downwards to the bitemarks on your neck, two red dots almost glowing red, but not leaking blood anymore.

You sighed in annoyance, trying to comb your hands through your hair, fingers instantly getting stuck, ripping painfully at your roots.

You gave up, just as your stomach began to grumble impatintly. You began to contemplate, the last time you had gotten food was the morning before your night shift with the prioress, which was about two days ago.

Surely, Seokjin wouldn’t leave you here to starve?

Restlessly, you began scanning the area for something eatable, which you found none. It wasn’t that the room lacked anything, it had almost too much, but the only thing you could spot was something that looked suspiciously a lot like alcoholic drinks standing on a table in the corner.

He said he would be back soon, right?

You thought back, trying to remember his words, maybe he’ll bring food?

With an annoyed huff, you slumped down on the bed, your dress sprawling across the silk sheets, the most illogical solution would be to wait. And so you did.

But a few minutes soon turned into hours in your head, and your tummy continued to grumble unhappily.

And so at last, you decided it would be best to go look for food yourself, doing exactly the opposite of what Seokjin had ordered you to do.

Your fingers curled around the golden handle, and you hesitated a moment before slowly turning it, deciding if this was really worth it. But surely Seokjin wouldn’t have abandoned you, if there really was something dangerous outside. You shook the thought off you, before stepping out into a beautifully decorated hallway.

You looked down, where you could see another hallway and a staircase forming, a smile curling on your lips. The room you had been staying in, was located at the end of a fairly long hallway, littered with other rooms alike, but in your rush to fill your empty belly you didn’t have any time to explore further.

Lifting your dress up, you began carefully walking down the staircase, afraid you might trip in the long garment, alarming whoever else was in the house, which to you seemed like a very bad idea.

The big staircase, let down to what seemed to be the main entrance of the house, or should you say mansion, you were in. You stood there a little, unsure of where to go amongst the many doors, rooms and hallways, when your eyes landed upon another staircase, leading down to a room that you could only assumed was the kitchen, or at least some kind of food storage.

Your stomach grumbled in response, and you were quick to make your way down the stairs, cool air hitting your face the further you got down to the cellar.

The cellar were covered in all consuming darkness, expect for the candles hanging far apart on the stone wall, reminding you too much of the church where you had met Seokjin just a couple hours ago.

Grabbing your skirt once more, hoisting it up just above your ankles, you began to hastily walk further into the room. After just a few meters, your were met with a big door, slowly pushing it open, your eyes shined with delight, when you were met with a big kitchen before you.

Luckily, windows were installed into the walls, so natural daylight shined through, lighting up the big kitchen, which to your disappointment seemed to be almost emptied of all eatable things.

Your belly growled angrily, as you began to sulk, desperately going through empty cabinets and closets. Suddenly, a big barrel cut your eyes, and you internally prayed that just the smallest crumbs of something worth eating would be stored in there.

You quickly ripped the lid off, only to take a few steps back in horror. The barrel was filled to the brim, with something way worse than you could imagine, at was filled with red, metallic smelling blood. You dropped the lid, with a loud thud, echoing through the halls of the empty kitchen.

You suddenly felt sick, thinking about how much blood was in there, and how many people that must have died to fill it. You could have been one of those people. Suddenly, the idea of coming here didn’t seem so good, now that you knew you could be turned into a barrel filled with blood at any moment.

“Why can’t the brat get it himself?”

A deep, unfamiliar voice suddenly ripped through the silent, making you freeze in your spot and your heart race in your throat.

“He’s sick, you know that,”

A second voice responded, and you quickly began to look around for a hiding place, putting the lid back on the barrel, eyes frantically scanning the place as voices and footsteps approached you.

“I know, but-“

The voice stopped abruptly, as both males reached the door, already unlocked, and instantly spotted you, trying to hide yourself inside a cabinet.

With big eyes, you stared at them, like a deer caught in the headlights of a car, scared out of your mind, for what they would do. Maybe they were the reason you had to stay in the room, maybe they were dangerous? Your heart pumped in your chest, and you were sure that they both could here the blood splashing around inside your body.

One of them, the slightly taller one inhaled deeply, looking directly at you with a look that spiraled between intense hunger and confusion. You knew the game was over for you, and decided that if they were to kill you right here and now, you would at least crawl out from the cabin first.

“Taehyung, I know what you’re thinking, don’t,”

The other male, put his hand on Taehyung’s arm, sniffing around the room himself. You noticed how both of them got a strained look on their pale faces, looking like they were about to swallow everyone and everything whole.

They were wearing similar clothes, dark robes, also similar to what Seokjin had been wearing, both of them had jet black hair, the closer you got, the more you noticed the unmistakable beauty of both of them, skin just as white as Seokjin’s, your mouth suddenly went dry. They couldn’t be the other rulers Seokjin had told you about, could they? They sure did look like they both belonged on a throne, mighty and intimidating.

“She looks like a scared bunny,”

Taehyung mused, a dangerous grin stretching his plump looking lips, completely ignoring the other, taking a step forward, while you hesitantly took a step back.

“Who are you? And why are you here?”

The male you still didn’t know the name of, swallowed hard, taking a step towards you as well, before he spoke, eyes everting from you to glare at the barrel by your side instead.

“I-I’m (y/n), Seokjin brought me here,”

Your voice was just above a whisper, breath coming out short and laboured, as you felt the warmth from the one called Taehyung emit off of him and creep around you like a suffocating blanket, strangely he wasn’t cold as Seokjin but warm, even warmer than you.

Taehyung closed his eyes and let out a hum, gradually stepping closer to you, backing you up against to counter as the other male slowly followed.

“Shit, Taehyung we can’t- you can’t, she’s hyung’s,”

He swallowed harshly, making Taehyung groan, a sound that sent chills down your spine, as you felt his breath hit your face.

“Hyung can share, Hoseok. He shouldn’t be this selfish, locking her in a room, forgetting to pay proper attention to her,”

Taehyung snapped, fists curling around the counter on either side of you.

Hoseok, looked at you with hazy eyes, stepping up besides Taehyung and completely caging you against the counter.

“Poor little bunny, did Seokjin neglect you?”

Taehyung pouted af you, mockingly, a dangerous shine in his eyes, as he looked down at you, pupils blown wide.

You swallowed, looking away from Hoseok to stare up at Taehyung’s crimson orbs, and when he smiled again, you saw not only one, but two sets of fangs, he seemed a lot different from both Hoseok and Taehyung, but somehow still the same.

Suddenly, Taehyung leaned down, nosing viscously up and down the side of you neck where Seokjin at bit you, inhaling and exhaling deeply, pressing his body into yours.

He let out a loud groan into your neck, pressing a open mouthed kiss to your two wounds, making you slightly shudder, contemplating wether to push him away or pull him in.

“She smells so sweet, I bet she tastes even better,”

Taehyung drawled into your neck, as you shut your eyes tightly, and desperately tried not to enjoy the feeling of Taehyung’s lips on your neck, but holy hell, it was one of the best feeling you had ever expirenced.

Hoseok groaned loudly, somewhere behind you, sniffing the air close to you, licking his lips with a torn expression.

“T-Taehyung, we should stop, hyung’s going to kill us-“

Taehyung cut him off with a sharp growl into your neck, pressing kiss after kiss to your wound.

“I don’t care what hyung’s gonna do, just smell the air, she was made to be fed on by us,”

Taehyung whined, slowly straightening himself up, so he once again was on eyelevel with Hoseok. Silently, he took Hoseok’s hand and placed in over your two bite wounds, licking his lips viciously.

Hoseok groaned again, strained and torn, as he finally got a good glance at you. He felt bad for you, he really did, he wanted to help you out of here, or at least offer you some food, but the intense flames of lust swallowing him allowed him nothing, but to feed from you like he was meant to. He was meant to feed from you, and you were meant to be fed on.

“She smells too much like Seokjin,”

Hoseok finally complained, the torn expression long gone and replaced by the hunger of a beast.

“Let’s change that, yeah? She should smell like us, she were meant to be ours,”

Taehyung growled, and turned his lustful gaze towards you.

“Would you like that, bunny? Would you like to be properly fed on, and properly cared for? Would you like to smell like us, let everyone know who you belong to?”

Taehyung’s voice came out husky and even deeper and raspier than before, as his wide smile and intoxicating eyes filled your mind, and the only thing you could do was helplessly nod.

Seokjin wouldn’t mind, right? Like Taehyung said, he could share.

“I need you to say it bunny,”

Taehyung’s eyes were closed, brows furrowed as he desperately held himself back, and you swallowed again, hard, making eye contact with Hoseok and slowly nodding.

“Y-yes, I would like that,”

You breathed, and immediately, Taehyung grinned at you, lifting you up like you weighted nothing, and almost slamming you down on the counter, quickly stepping between your legs and grabbing your wrist.

Hoseok stepped closer from the other side, slowly sliding his long, cold fingers around your hips, gripping hard and kneading the flesh just above your bottom to hold you in place, as he began to kiss and suck on your neck like a man possessed, making a galaxy of purple and blue bruises appear.

You let out a little squeal, as Taehyung grabbed your wrist, and extended your arm, kissing all the way from the top to the bottom, leaving hot trails of salvia all the way down to your wrist.

Hoseok began to suckle particularly hard right where your neck meets your shoulder, and you had to fight the urge to moan at the sudden sensation, instead letting out a breathy whine, as he tilted your head a little to the side, sharp fangs poking your fragile skin.

Taehyung did the same with your wrist, tongue running all over before his two pairs of fangs sharpened, and he bit down, sinking his fangs into your wrist.

This time, the pain you were prepared for didn’t come, instead the sensation of blood flowing through you and into him filled you, making you let out a sudden moan at the surprising pleasureble sensation.

You felt Taehyung smirk as he sucked, groaning and panting like a animal, only spurring your quiet moaning on, as you lost yourself in the feeling of him.

That’s when Hoseok decided it was his turn, nosing up your neck, and planting hot, open mouthed kisses all the way down leaving a shiny path of salvia, and he finally bit down right at the base of your neck, making you cry out in pleasure, even surprising yourself by how loud you were.

His fangs sank in your neck smoothly, sinking as deep as they could, until his gums hit your neck, and you shuddered. You felt their salvia mix with your blood, as they lapped up everything they could, and you could almost feel how good you tasted on their tongue, how well they were being fed by you.

They continued to suck your life essence, only being spurred on by your small moans and whines, as you reached out to grab what you could; their hair, and slightly tucking, the pleasure almost overwhelming you.

They only stopped, when their cheeks were nice and round, and they both looked and felt well fed, more alive.

Hoseok was the first one to part from you, the feeling of his fangs sliding slowly out of the fresh made wound, making you cry out again, as he with half lidded eyelids and bloodstained lips, delicately curled his long fingers around your chin, turning your head to him and kissing you deeply.

The kiss took you by surprise, but not that you minded, instantly you let go of Taehyung’s hair to grip Hoseok’s hair tightly, and tugging him closer, closer, closer.

Hoseok’s soft tongue poked at your bottom lip, and you instantly opened up for him, tasting your own blood on his tongue, tasing how good you were for him, letting him feed on you. Unholy slurping noises escaped the both of you, and you moaned more and more into the kiss, forgetting that you were sitting with too vampires in a underground kitchen, in the middle of a land where humans like you would surely be eaten alive is anyone saw you.

“Hoseok,”

You whined, as he quickly parted from you, a string of salvia connecting the two of you, as he looked at you with a burning desire, igniting all sorts of flames in your lower belly, and you wanted more, more, more.

Taehyung, suddenly jealous with the attention you have Hoseok, parted from your wrist, as he began to abuse your neck with his rough kisses, biting, licking, sucking, making you moan out his name instead, as he reached down and wrapped your legs around his waist, hips pressing against yours.

Hoseok resumed kissing you, lips smoothly gliding over yours, swallowing every moan and noise you made, as Taehyung began to slowly, but harshly rut himself against your clothed heat.

First, you felt Taehyung’s hardness against your core, but then you began to feel Hoseok desperately rutting his own member against your other thigh, whines and groans leaving him.

You began to almost pant, thinking of how they might just take you right here, in the kitchen.

They seemed to both battle each other, who could get the loudest moans from you. When Hoseok had made you moan and whine, Taehyung went harder and faster with his hips making you cry out louder, and you were sure that by now, all residence of the house had heard you, but the three of you were too lost to really care at this point, only craving more, more, more.

Just as Taehyung began to lift up your many skirts, and feel up your legs, the door slammed against the wall, and both Hoseok and Taehyung hazely craned their necks back to see the interrupter, making you let out a whine of protest.

“Stop it, both of you,”

Seokjin’s sharp voice cut through the air, instantly making both boys straighten their posture, looking shamefully at the floor.

“I sent you to get blood for Jeongguk, and when you don’t return after almost thirty minutes I expect you to be hurt, or lost, but here you two idiots are, trying to shimmy your way into my bunny’s dress?”

He spat, full of venom, as he looked angrily at your almost fucked out expression, eyes glossy and hickeys littering your neck, and the little bit of exposed skin on your chest.

“Come on, Hyung! She smelled so good, we couldn’t resist, why can’t you just share?”

Taehyung whined, voice still thick with lust, as he now could smell both your blood and arousal, Seokjins nose flared.

“She’s my feeder, and you two dipshit’s nearly drained her, look at her,”

Seokjin gestured to you, even paler than before, due to the loss of blood.

“Not fair! You already drank from her yesterday, we’re hungry too hyung,”

Taehyung continued to whine, while Hoseok just stood there, already knowing from the start that he was gonna get in trouble.

“You know how it is, Taehyung, you’re better off with animal blood, she’s my only feeding source,”

Seokjin sounded more tired than angry now, bags under his eyes that definitely weren’t there yesterday.

“But hyung-“

Taehyung protested, but was quickly cut off by Seokjin.

“Enough. Go to your rooms, both of you. I’ll send Namjoon or Yoongi to get you later,”

Seokjin turned to you, both boys angrily stomping out the door, and you swallowed, prepared for what was about to come.

“And as for you, didn’t I tell you to stay in my room?”

He asked, voice cold and eyes hard as he looked at you, like you were a ruined toy, stepping closer, taking the spot between your legs were Taehyung once stood.

You nodded, slowly.

“Y-yes, sorry, I-“

“Spare me your apology, there’s a meal waiting for you back in my room, I’ll escort you this time, make sure you don’t run in to anyone else.”

He replied coolly, wrapping his arm tightly and forcefully around you waist, hoisting you down from the counter, and setting a quick pace, which you almost had to run to follow along with, his arm never leaving your waist as the two of you made your way upstairs to his room.

..to be continued

[seyaryminamoto]

Been thinking for a while that I’d like to do a light behind-the-scenes glimpse into one of the themes in the newest Gladiator story arc. While it’s not the very core element of the arc, the source of Azula’s current struggle in the story came from... an unexpected place.

Unexpected as in, it came from LOK.

Okay, in all fairness, it’s not quiiiiiiiite something that came from LOK itself, but it’s a take on an idea I had while pondering the various reasons why Asami’s character wouldn’t really take off for me in the show. Well, beyond the obvious reasons why it wouldn’t *cough* Book 2 *cough*... 

I’ve always said I’m more than a little confused by how a character like Asami, with just 20-something years of age at the time of LOK Book 4, has enough talent and know-how to not only be a top-of-the-line engineer (which, yes, is believable enough on its own), but to also be a CEO in her own company (I gueeeess since the company falls into her hands and she mismanages it plenty in Book 2, it’s not that impossible to feature this in conjunction with the first thing?), a clothing designer, an architect AND a urbanist, capable of driving every machine known to man, an outstanding hand-to-hand fighter...!

... If you really think about it in cold blood, it feels like a little too much.

BUT. Instead of boringly accusing Asami of being a Mary Sue (which I’m sure some people might) for having a thousand talents that we don’t really see her work for, that she just developed offscreen, I thought the show would have benefited greatly from actually focusing on how Asami is handling the constant, desperate need of so many authorities in Republic City to have HER resolving all their problems.

Therefore, instead of a Reunion episode with a conflict focused on rescuing a kidnapped Wu (whom I profoundly dislike as a character, not for his role, but his personality is simply barf-worthy for me and the amount of focus Book 4 gave him was, as a lot of things, detrimental to the show as a whole, in my opinion), I thought LOK’s Book 4 could have instead featured a Reunion episode focused on Asami... which, of course, would also be a nice way to fix some of the lackluster onscreen development of Korrasami. So... let’s go onwards with my episode pitch:

Picture that Korra is about to reunite with Mako and Asami for the first time in all those years, same as in canon. Asami arrives! Yay, Korra is happy, Asami compliments her hair, just like in canon... aaaand then Asami says she can’t really stay, she just dropped by quickly because this REALLY matters to her, but there’s this pressing issue going on at the company and she has to deal with it RIGHT NOW, because no one else can. So, woops.

Korra is completely disappointed (and probably doesn’t even understand WHY she’s so disappointed, hinting at deeper feelings for Asami that Korra hasn’t even stopped to reason with yet), but she sees Asami off while pretending this doesn’t bug her (for Asami’s benefit), and ends up spending the evening with Mako but clearly she’s not enjoying it as much as she hoped to. Which could result in Mako being pretty surprised by whatever closeness and bond those two seem to have now, noticing that he seems to have fallen to second place in Korra’s eyes somehow.

So! Skipping ahead, perhaps to the next day, Korra tries to check on Asami again! :D Oh, but she’s got to work on the airbenders’ outfits, some have been having trouble with the aerodynamics of it, and it’s just not working as Asami intended, so more calculations are needed! She takes to studying on the subject frantically, has to figure out what formula she’s missing or messing up, and while Korra offers to help, she knows there’s not really anything she can do to give Asami a hand since this stuff is well out of Korra’s area of expertise.

Then, when Asami is finally finished, OH NO! An emergency in the train she inaugurated at the start of the season! Asami has to go deal with that too! And of course, Korra goes too, while wondering how TF does this damn city even run without Asami...

... And then realizing it actually doesn’t. There’s a president who basically dumps all the difficult issues on Asami because she has the know-how and the resources to deal with all the city’s problems, there’s an airbending master who requested for that same girl to help with the designs of his people’s combat outfits instead of dealing with it himself or finding someone else to help, there’s an entire vehicle company (ranging from cars to AIRPLANES) that depends on HER. And it’s just SO. MUCH. SHIT. For a girl who’s like... 20? 21? How old is Asami at this point? xD I don’t even remember. But the point I’m trying to get to...

Is that Asami should be overwhelmed. She hasn’t had anyone helping her, she deals with everything alone, and it doesn’t matter how hard she tries to work through this, there’s always one more problem, one more obstacle, one more bothersome thing she has to tackle, and nobody seems to stop and think that maybe she could use a break. That maybe she needs a nap because she hasn’t had one in 20 months. That maybe things in this damn city would be in a better place if people didn’t rely on her, and her alone, to resolve the bulk of their problems.

Korra, though, with her latest character growth (... that I’m not really fond of anyhow, but still...), has become a lot better at understanding people’s emotions. And her job as an Avatar is, amongst many things, to help people: someone she cares about deeply, her best friend future girlfriend, is currently going through so much crap and the truth is, Asami needs help. Whether Asami realizes it or not, she needs it. And so, whether it’s Korra’s job or not to help her, that’s all Korra wants to do right now. 

So Korra enlists Mako and then all three deal with whatever that train emergency might be! Asami probably rejects their help at first, out of force of habit of doing everything alone lately, until Korra tells her she doesn’t have to do that anymore. And then Asami’s mind is blown because yeah, maybe there’s a bunch of older people in charge who are happy to dump all responsibilities on her! But that doesn’t mean she has to accept it meekly and save all their asses time after time... and it also doesn’t mean she has to deal with everything alone.

After the train problem is resolved, Korra and Asami (maybe Mako too? But for Korrasami’s purposes, it can just be those two) get to have a small chat about what life has been like for Asami since Korra vanished. The conversation doesn’t merely focus on Hiroshi, which... *cringes* let’s not get into that. It focuses on Asami and the hardships she’s dealing with, seeing as the city is basically using her as a non-bender Avatar, in the sense of leaving all the problem-solving to Asami alone. Korra probably apologizes, Asami probably tells her not to feel guilty, because she has had it rough, and Asami understands that better than anyone, especially after what she’s been through lately.

It’s a cute, heartfelt moment, not necessarily romantic yet, but featuring a strong, meaningful bonding scene between these two! Asami wants to go back to work on some pending stuff, and Korra respects that, though she warns Asami not to overdo it. Asami promises she won’t... and the next time Korra checks on her, Asami is asleep on her desk or something like that. Korra smiles and puts a blanket on her shoulders, and when someone else arrives to say something REALLY BAD is going on, Korra shushes them and decides to deal with it herself (as long as she can), and, if she can’t, she’ll find someone else to do it in Asami’s stead so the girl can sleep safe and sound for the first time in ages.

Episode pitch over! :’D

*siiiiiiiiiigh* alright, so yeah, this was something I originally thought of as a replacement episode, to further explore and establish a bond between Korra and Asami that wouldn’t really resolve all of the rushed-Korrasami problems... but it would make it so much clearer that those two share a different bond, and a very special understanding of each other, that the other two Krew members simply don’t have with either of them. It’d deepen their relationship, but the most important element about this for me was that it’d be an Asami-focused episode and plotline. However brief it would have been, my idea was to feature Asami facing her own problems, not problems based on her relationship with other people (be it family or romance). It was also a way to show that she’s not indestructible or just the go-to problem solver with neverending resources and talents that the plot can exploit at leisure whenever it feels like it. And, most importantly, that Asami can’t and SHOULDN’T be the answer to every problem in Republic City, especially when she’s only delivering those answers off-screen, offering the viewers next to no chance to see her in action, kicking ass at all the things she apparently has insane expertise on.

As far as I know, the two LOK comic trilogies haven’t really done much for Asami either. I haven’t read them so I could be wrong, but from what I can gather from comments of people who have read them and the books’ summaries, she’s still Korra’s girlfriend first and foremost, gets kidnapped so she can be used as a hostage to manipulate Korra, and then gets brainwashed into fighting against Korra...? If this is truly how it is, again, Asami just gets reduced to a satellite character, in the sense that she just revolves around other people as though that’s all there is to her character, canon-wise. Which... makes me sad. She had potential, plenty of potential worth exploring, if only the show’s writing had been more paused and allowed their characters to breathe and grow organically, as a consequence of their own actions and decisions rather than by being forced into hellish situations persistently until they broke out of desperation.

So... LOK really had the chance to explore a much more human side of Asami that they’ve neglected to acknowledge so far (from what I know), a chance to deepen her character by displaying that no one of such young age should have so many difficult responsibilities dumped on her shoulders... which, again, could be expanded into a metaphor for the Avatar’s role, showing both Korra and Asami as two highly capable women who could achieve great things... but who need a chance to be normal too, once in a while. From the looks of it, neither of them have had that chance in canon (yes, Korra was stuck in a compound all her life but Asami must have been stuck in constant lessons at every discipline she has mastered? If she can deal with all those jobs of hers as flawlessly as she has, I don’t think she had much of a life before LOK started), and it would have been really nice of the deeper, darker show LOK wanted to be to acknowledge that a bunch of grown-ups, who had relatively smooth lives in their youth, dumping so much heavy work on a pair of girls who are just becoming young adults and barely had childhoods of their own, is just damn nasty :’D just as it was nasty in a show featuring a much younger cast... *innocent whistling*

Alas, this was just one idea that won’t ever go anywhere in canon, as is obvious. I’m sure I mentioned it at least once before, not as thoroughly as I did just now, but this is more or less what I had in mind. If you dump a thousand things on a character, it would only be fair to let them suffer for it, to a fault. Maybe don’t feature them whining because they have soooo much work to do... but turn them into workaholics! Show that they’re struggling to make everything pay off, that this kind of burden isn’t child’s play because in real life, it simply wouldn’t be.

But, as there’s next to no chance Asami will ever get this sort of development, I merely stashed this idea on my back burner, in case it might come in handy in the future... 

... And then I returned to it once Gladiator’s Enforcers became a solid reality. Azula has been dealing with challenges that are rather different from those Asami dealt with... but ultimately, the responsibilities both girls have taken up, Asami in canon and Azula in my story, were just insanely big. Azula, in Gladiator, has had very little time to spare for “secondary” pursuits since the previous arc, and in the current one that has become a problem because she simply CAN’T stop working. She goes home and instead of going to bed, keeps on working. She’s constantly on edge, assuming that any time not spent working is wasted time, time she should take advantage of to further improve her projects and endeavors... to the point where people are starting to notice she’s slightly overwhelmed, extremely stressed out, and needs to calm down :’D

I really had wanted to explore these themes in overachieving characters, who take up far too many responsibilities, more than are reasonable. While I’ll always consider it a really big waste of potential that LOK never gave Asami this particular dimension, despite her character 100% warranted it, at least I had the chance to explore this with Azula instead, and I’m honestly really pleased with the result, because it suits her really well too. The outcome won’t be at all like what I just outlined for the LOK episode that never was, and the current story arc will take a vastly different direction... which is why I thought it would be fun to explain where this particular, new dimension of Azula’s character had come from.

Aaaanyways... the bottomline is, Return to Shu Jing is here. And I reeeeeally love this arc. I hope that those of you reading and staying up to date with the story will love it too!

[spacesnail3000]

Brooklyn’s Sweetheart Chapter 14: A Girl on the Brink of Crisis

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Chapter Summary: It’s a little hard to wrangle a teenaged girl going through several emotionally traumatizing experiences at once while also trying to deal with fallout in the mob. Steve and Bucky are doing their best—at least, they think they are.

Word Count: 6,898

Warnings: Language, a little bit of smut (somnophilia, just a little at the beginning), emotional manipulation, angst & feels

Masterlist / AO3

Steve slept fitfully and awoke gradually, warm and drunk with the feeling of Y/N’s soft body draped across him. Tightening his hold on her, he ran his hands up and down her back, hoping to coax her awake. She squirmed on top of him, sighing softly in her sleep, and Steve’s hands wandered further, down her waist, along her hips, ass, and thighs. When she shifted again, he gently encouraged her to spread her legs, one thigh draped wide across his waist so he had access to her.

His morning wood throbbed when he brushed his fingers down her slit, wet with the remnants of his and Bucky’s release from the previous night. A small whimper escaped her lips when he started working at her clit with small circles, trying to coax more honey from her to get her ready for him.

He didn’t know how, didn’t understand it, but he still wasn’t satisfied. After fucking her so intensely last night, his need for the girl had only grown. She was all he could think about. All night, he had dreamt about her, about taking her, making her his, about making love to her. 

With his other hand, he ran his fingers along her cheek, then rubbed his thumb gently against her lips, pouty with sleep. He wondered what this girl did to him, why she affected him so viscerally. 

She still hadn’t woken up—she had always been a heavy sleeper, though, so Steve wasn’t expecting her to wake up just yet. In fact, she probably wouldn’t until he got his cock in her. He pulsed in anticipation.

After easing one finger into her, feeling her clench rhythmically around him, he decided she was ready—she was certainly wet enough, dripping with her unconscious arousal. Hitching her leg up higher around his waist, he twisted his hips to the side to line himself up with her entrance. 

As he pressed his cock inside her, her eyelids fluttered a little, but she didn’t open them until he was bottomed out, pressing his pelvis tight against hers.

She awoke with a gasp, hands flying up to Steve’s face, and he caught her wrists before she could do anything. He took in her expression, shocked and stunned, the sleep in her eyes giving way to surprise and confusion. “Steve?” she murmured, a crease forming between her eyebrows. “What—”

Then he drew his hips back a little and thrusted back in, and her eyelids fluttered closed, pouty lips parting with a breathy moan. His lips split in a filthy grin, hips moving at a slow pace, fucking into her leisurely. She was so hot and wet around him, impossibly tight, and she whimpered every time he thrusted particularly deep.

 “Just let it happen, darling,” he cooed, the pet name falling from his lips like silk.

The slow rocking of their bodies together lulled her into a trance, and her body relaxed on top of him, allowing him to move her around like a doll, made just for his pleasure. He released her hands and ran his own across her back, soothing her even more, and she tucked her face into his neck, her hands tangled in his hair, holding on as he fucked her into a sleepy, sated stupor. Everything was warm and gooey and slick, and his gentle voice cooing in her ear only made her sleepier.

“Good girl,” he praised her, brushing his lips across the shell of her ear, her temple. “Such a sweet little thing, aren’t you? Letting me take care of you like this. You need me, don’t you?”

She sighed against his neck, the pleasure in her core building with each deep slide of his cock into her. Steve shivered when he felt the press of her lips on his throat, basking in the pleasure of how she felt wrapped around him. 

He began to wonder if Bucky was going to wake up when an interesting thought occurred to him about fucking her at the same time as Bucky. His hand wandered down her back and pressed between her legs. Deft fingers skimmed against her puckered hole; she tensed up, unsure what he was doing, and he was about to press his fingers in further when—

“What the fuck?” The shout came from the doorway of the bedroom doorway, and Steve instantly regretted not shutting the door the previous night.

Tony stood there—he must’ve entered the house without Steve hearing—and he was looking at the scene with shock and anger. Luckily, they were mostly covered by the blanket, but there was no mistake as to what was happening, especially as Y/N squealed and tried to hide her exposed body from his sight.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Tony yelled, his hands waving around and awkwardly covering his eyes. Y/N struggled in Steve’s grip and tried to bury herself under the sheets; Bucky was roused awake with the commotion, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and looking around, confused.

“Tony, get out,” Steve said sharply. “We’ll be right out.”

“You have two minutes to get your asses downstairs,” Tony snapped. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he muttered, slamming the door closed and stomping downstairs.

“Fuck,” Steve grunted, hand running down his face. He was still hard, but the girl was already wriggling out of bed and scurrying into the attached bathroom, slamming the door heavily. 

“What the fuck just happened?” Bucky asked, voice thick with sleep.

“Stark ruined my morning sex,” Steve snapped, grabbing the clothes he was wearing earlier and dressing hurriedly. “C’mon,” he said to Bucky, who looked about ready to go back to sleep, “He’s probably got news about Stane.”

As Bucky dressed slowly, Steve knocked on the bathroom door. “Darling, come on out.”

“No!” she cried.

“Y/N,” he sighed, gritting his teeth, trying not to get frustrated. “Let’s go. Tony’s waiting for us.”

He heard her sniffle. “I’ll be down in a minute…”

Steve was about to argue again, but Bucky swung his arm around Steve’s shoulders, making Steve support most of his weight in his exhaustion. “C’mon, let her be. We need to talk to him alone first anyhow.”

Steve let out a breath. “Be downstairs in five minutes or I’m coming back up here and dragging you out. Got it?”

“Fine.”

They found Tony downstairs in the kitchen rummaging through the refrigerator.

“Tony,” Steve began, but Tony cut him off, holding a carton of soymilk in his hand.

“What the fuck was that about, huh? Please tell me this little ménage à trois of yours only started last night.”

“It—”

“Because otherwise you two would have a serious fucking death wish. You really want to be the ones to defile Obadiah Stane’s daughter? Please tell me you’re not that fucking stupid.”

“It doesn’t matter now, Stark,” Bucky growled, upset at Tony’s insinuation. “He’s out of the picture.”

“I can’t fucking believe this.”

“Mind your own business—we care about her.” 

“Yeah I can see how much you care by the way you rope her into some sordid threesome with the both of you—”

Steve snapped, “It’s not like that!”

Tony slammed the carton of milk onto the counter. “Oh yeah? Please tell me how it’s different. This is the kind of shit her father was trying to protect her from—”

“Oh please,” Bucky scoffed, “Stane was really trying to protect her when he would scream at her and beat the shit out of her? We never saw you say a word against him then, but you have a problem with this?”

“For fuck’s sake—” Tony began, but cut himself off when Y/N entered the kitchen. She wore a large sweatshirt and sweatpants, and her skin was a sickly pale. When she sat at the kitchen table, she winced as her bottom hit the chair. Giving a pained groan, she rested her head in her hands, and Tony asked, “What’s wrong with her?”

“She’s hungover,” Bucky answered. 

Steve added, “This is the result of her going out with the Maximoff girl last night.” 

Y/N shifted again, whimpering not only at the way her vision and stomach swirled in opposite directions, but also at the dull pain shooting through her backside from the previous night.

Ever the perceptive mob leader, Tony narrowed his eyes at her, picking up on the cues in seconds. Then he turned to glare at Steve. “Rogers, you fucking—”

Steve held up his hand. “Not a fucking word, Tony. Please.” Tony, Steve, and Bucky shared a tense glance.

“Fine,” Tony surrendered, sitting at the table in front of her. “Y/N, I have news.”

“What is it?” came her mumbled response.

Tony, being the bold and brash man he is, decided not to beat around the bush. “Your father died. He died in prison earlier this morning of a heart attack.”

Steve had expected her to lash out at them. Bucky had anticipated her to burst into tears. Tony had expected a combination of both. Instead, she sighed heavily into the table, almost exasperated. “Yeah,” she shook her head. “He’s not my father.”

Tony opened his mouth, then closed it for a lack of words. Steve and Bucky had never seen him speechless. He looked up at the other men, eyes pleading for help. “Well. He raised you, and his name’s on your birth certificate, so—”

She raised her head, the glare sent at Tony reminiscent of her own mother’s ferocity, and Obadiah Stane’s coldness. “I don’t care. He’s not my father.”

“He deserves—”

“To rot in the ground? I agree.”

“Y/N—"

“Listen, just save your breath. You won’t get me to care by bringing up how he yelled at me any chance he could get and beat me whenever I talked back. Oh—you know what his most redeeming quality is? The way he killed my biological father in cold blood and forced my mother to marry him afterwards. Right?”

“Hey,” Steve said sharply, raising his voice to chastise her, “We all know he’s done some bad things, but he was the leader of the mob, and now he’s dead. You show him respect, got it?”

They maintained eye contact, waiting to see who would break first. Her eyes bored into his, hateful, the sneer falling from her lips as her face grew paler. Several beats later, she abruptly announced, “I’m gonna puke,” before getting up and running to the half-bath near the living room. They could hear her retching from the kitchen.

“She’s a fucking mess.”

“No shit, Tony,” Steve rolled his eyes. He wandered over to the fridge and looked through it for breakfast.

Tony rubbed his hand over his face, scratching at his goatee, which was grown out from the past few days. “I don’t think you boys are the right people for this. You’re only 23 yourselves. How much do you know about handling a girl on the brink of crisis?”

“Well who else is gonna do it?” Bucky asked, staring pointedly at Tony. They all knew Tony and Pepper weren’t going to step up and take the girl in, although Tony was her godfather. The couple was trying for a baby themselves, although the timing was inopportune with the mob practically falling apart.

Steve turned and picked up the soymilk. “She’ll be fine in a few days. She’s grieving—that’s all.” He gave it a sniff and wrinkled his nose at the sour smell. “Jesus. We’re gonna have to go grocery shopping.”

Tony dropped his head in his hands. “Listen, the funeral’s in two days. You have until then to prove that you can handle her. If not, we’re gonna need to figure something else out.”

“Tony,” Steve said, “She’s 18. She can make her own decisions.”

“She’s never made a single decision for herself. Why let her start now, when her life is in shambles?”

Steve couldn’t disagree with that logic. It’s not like he and Bucky were allowing her much agency as it was.

“Listen,” Tony said gravely, “Just because Stane’s dead doesn’t mean the FBI is dropping their case.” 

“What does that mean for us?” Bucky asked warily, muscles tensing.

“Luckily, he didn’t have the chance to mention anyone in the mob before he died—he only ratted out Laufeyson and his crew. But the FBI is going to be looking into his finances, and soon they’ll find out about the money laundering, the offshore accounts—everything.”

“They’ll take the house, won’t they?” Steve asked.

Tony nodded. “And anything else they can get their hands on. It might take a week or so, but you should try to move her out of here before then. It’s not gonna be pretty.”

“Great,” Steve said bitterly. 

“More shit to put on her,” Bucky muttered. It was then that the girl in question stumbled back into the kitchen, all but collapsing into her seat. “How you feeling, sweetheart?” he asked, running a hand over the clammy skin of her forehead.

She gave a throaty grunt in return and placed her head against the cool wood of the table. 

“Can you use words?” Steve asked. His tone made it clear it wasn’t a request.

“Little better,” she muttered. “Not nauseous anymore. Just dying.”

“I can make you my secret hangover cure,” Tony suggested.

Steve sent him a look. “A Bloody Mary isn’t a hangover cure. It’s just day drinking,” 

Before Tony could reply, his phone rang, and he stepped out of the room to answer it. While he was gone, Bucky got her a glass of water and a stick of gum. When Tony came back in, he announced, “It was Rhodey. We have to meet with the funeral home to arrange the service. Y/N, do you want to come with us?”

“No,” she grunted.

“It was worth a try.” 

Steve walked Tony to the front door, and before Tony left, he turned and leveled Steve with an intense glare. “You’re being safe, right?”

“Uh—” Not really. “Of course we are.”

“Good. That girl is too emotionally distraught to get pregnant, especially if one of you jackasses is the father.”

Steve gritted his teeth. “Goodbye, Tony.”

After practically slamming the door in Tony’s face, Steve went into the kitchen. “We need to figure out a plan,” he told Bucky.

Bucky ran his hand across Y/N’s forehead. “Honey. Do you want to stay here for the next few days or stay at our place?”

“I don’t care. It doesn’t matter.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “We’re staying at our place then. Go pack a bag, Y/N.”

She groaned in protest, but with a sharp look from Steve, she acquiesced. “Fine.”

It didn’t take long for her to pack a bag with enough clothes and toiletries to last the week. Bucky kept her company while she packed, although she refused to say more than three words at a time to him. He was much more patient with her than Steve, however. 

“Grab something for the funeral, baby,” he reminded her.

She scowled, shoving a hairbrush into the bag with more force than necessary. “I don’t want to go.” 

“Baby—”

But she cut his attempt off. “I don’t want to talk about it.” With that, she slung her duffel bag over her shoulder and made her way downstairs without another word. Bucky sighed, but didn’t push it. He rifled through her closet for a moment before grabbing a modest black dress, not looking forward to the day of the funeral when they would practically have to force her into it. 

He looked around her room before departing. They would have to figure out what to do with her enormous closet full of designer clothing, her lavishly decorated room, the dog, and her numerous other belongings. But that was for another day.

After coaxing her (and Hermes) into the car, they made their way across Brooklyn to Red Hook, stopping at a pharmacy along the way. They let her stay in the car with the windows rolled down while Steve bought groceries, just the essentials, and a few items that would help the girl with her hangover. The last thing he wanted was for her to vomit any more.

Once they got to their apartment, they settled her onto the sofa and Steve handed her a glass of water and three little pills—two white round pills of different sizes and an orange pill.

“What are they?” she asked.

“For nausea and headache.”

“What’s the third?”

Steve paused. “It’ll help you sleep.”

She frowned. “I don’t think I need that one. I feel tired enough as it is.”

“Just take the damn pills before I force them down your throat, got it?” Steve snapped, fed up with her questions.

With a pout, she took the pills and drank the entire glass of water. 

“What do you say?” Bucky prompted her, draping a soft grey blanket over her body.

“Thank you, Steve…” she mumbled, sinking further into the couch, pulling the blanket up around her neck. It smelled like spices and tobacco, familiar and warm.

“You’re welcome,” he said, still a little curt. Bucky sent him a stern look, so he brushed his hand through her hair and continued with a slightly gentler tone, “If you keep being good today, I’ll give you a reward later.”

She pouted and ducked her head. Bucky only chuckled and tucked a pillow behind her head. “Get some sleep. We’ll wake you up in a few hours.”

Luckily, she fell asleep quickly, leaving Steve and Bucky to make breakfast. As Bucky whipped up some eggs and bacon, Steve cleaned up the house. They had barely been back since before going to Martha’s Vineyard, and it needed a little tidying—especially if Y/N was going to be staying with them.

As he tossed some trash, he made sure to cover up the Plan B box he had gotten from the pharmacy labeled “emergency contraceptive”. They would have to be more careful going forward, but Steve would prefer that over a baby when she wasn’t ready.

Bucky eyed him as Steve buried the box in the trash. “Don’t you think we should’ve just told her?”

“She would’ve asked too many questions,” Steve answered, “I didn’t want to deal with it.”

“What if she has side effects?”

“We’ll blame it on the hangover.”

Bucky sighed, stirring around scrambled eggs in the pan. “We should have been more careful.”

“Next time, we will be.”

Something was burning, like cigarette smoke mixed with plastic. Carcinogenic and nauseating, it burned the inside of her nostrils when she inhaled, sent a dull ache throbbing in her skull. But there were more pressing matters. She had heard a scream from the first floor, and as she crept down the grand stairs of her childhood home, she felt her heart beating rapidly in her chest and in her temples.

She emerged into the living room, everything hazy with smoke, dark except the fireplace burning in front of the sofa. Obadiah Stane stood in front of the fire, the flames lighting him from the front and casting his silhouette in a dark shadow. The hulking shoulders and imposing arms of her childhood, holding her up when she was five and still small enough to use him as a jungle gym.

“Dad?” she asked, before walking towards him. He didn’t turn, but then she saw her mother. Her body lay on the ground in a pool of blood, a bullet hole between her eyebrows, blank eyes staring straight at her father. 

Y/N followed her gaze to the man who raised her, blood glistening on the satin of his suit, soaking into the fabric until it was barely noticeable but for those who knew where to look. His tie painted crimson, an arrow pointing down to the gun he held in his hands, black metal as shiny as his eyes, staring impassively at his daughter.

“I did this for you.” His voice echoed and bounced off the walls, burning into her mind like the fire jumping out of the fireplace, flames licking her feet and singing her clothes.

Panic rising in her chest, she backed away from her father, who was advancing towards her as fast as the fire. Then she ran into something solid, and two arms slithered around her torso and squeezed her ribcage. When she turned to look, she saw Steve and Bucky, side by side, wrangling her body between them into their arms.

“No!” she gasped, throat stinging from the smoke inside the house.

“Come with us, doll,” Bucky said, pulling her away from her murderous father, her mother lying lifeless on the ground.

“Wait!” she cried, “My mom! What about my mom!”

“You’re ours now, sweetheart,” Steve said sinisterly, that cruel smirk back on his face. Her parents vanished, but the flames didn’t, the smell of burning flesh didn’t.

Engulfed in their arms, she had nowhere to go. Their eyes scorched into her, blue overtaken by red and orange, the feel of their skin sizzling on hers the worst pain she had ever felt.

“It hurts,” she said, tears of gasoline spilling down her face, only provoking the flames around them to rise up and burn brighter.

“You like it,” Steve hissed, “Admit it.”

“You can’t lie to us.”

“Admit it!”

“No!” Y/N cried and sat up on the couch, skin on fire, clothes sticking to her skin from sweat. It took a moment for her to get her bearings as she kicked the blanket off, looking around frantically, and then she realized she was in Bucky’s and Steve’s apartment.

The boys were at her side in an instant. “Are you okay?” Bucky asked, and when he realized she was physically fine, he pulled her into his arms to comfort her.

She stiffened at his touch, remembering his blazing eyes from her dream. When she tried to pull away from him, he only held on tighter, and she began shaking in his arms. “P-please let me go—” Her voice trembled with fear.

“Oh, doll,” he cooed, rubbing her back, but it only incensed her as she remembered him calling her that in her dream. Thrashing in his grip, she pushed at his chest with all her strength.

“Get off me!” she cried, voice hoarse with terror.

Bucky backed his body away but held his hands out to try to soothe her. “Hey, what’s the matter? It’s just me.” She was still in defense mode; he could see it as her eyes darted around for a way out. He had only seen her like this once before, many years ago. When she didn’t respond in any way, he tried again, going for a different angle. “Muffin,” he said—an old nickname, one he hadn’t used in over five years. But he had used it the last time he had seen her so defensive like this. “Muffin, it’s me. It’s okay, I’m here.”

She had been eight years old, and they were all at Bucky’s house one summer day. Obadiah dropped in, enraged about some issue or another—and he had yelled at her. It was the first time he had ever hit her. And she had come to Bucky, distraught and terrified like she was now. Once her father left, Bucky’s mother made them fresh-baked blueberry muffins.

“I love muffins…” she had said, voice small, eyes still red.

“I think you’re a muffin,” Bucky had replied, just trying to be funny, to cheer her up. And it had worked, because she thought that was the most hilarious thing, giggling so hard that she fell out of her chair, until his mother scolded them for getting too rowdy.

Since then, she had been muffin to them—until she was thirteen when she asked them to stop.

It had escaped his mind until then—hers too. But when he called her that, with the dream still fresh in her mind, she couldn’t help but burst into tears. She allowed him to pull her against his chest and sob.

Bucky and Steve—this was Bucky and Steve, for God’s sake. Her oldest friends, the boys who had always protected her from everything growing up. When she was in fifth grade, they had a “firm talking to” to a boy who wouldn’t stop heckling her to be his Valentine. They beat up a boy in her class when he didn’t like her back when she was in seventh grade. In her sophomore year, when her father wouldn’t let her go to prom with a senior boy, they took her out for milkshakes the night of the prom so she would forget.

They were still protecting her to this day. Steve kissed her the previous year when she cried to him about how some boys made fun of her for being a virgin. Bucky—sweet Bucky—was there the night of her birthday when her father screamed at her, comforting her with companionship and kisses.

And now, as he soothed her with gentle caresses and tender words, kisses to the crown of her head, after she dreamed of how horrible they were.

All along, they had only been trying to protect her. Right?

Her heart longed for them while her mind insisted that her boys were up to no good. She didn’t know what to believe.

There was more contributing to her distraught state. On top of her conflicted feelings about Bucky and Steve, she felt conflicted about Obadiah Stane—the man who raised her, the man who was supposed to be her father. He did so many horrible things, and now he was dead. Is that what he deserved? Is that what God intended? 

She would never get closure now, nor any answers from him. Would her mother come back? Would the mob still protect her in the same way without her father as its leader? Where did she fit in now, and where was she supposed to go? Who was she supposed to be?

The questions flooded her mind like a great flood, God’s wrath, and she didn’t know which memories to salvage on her arc, or if she could even survive.

“Breathe, honey, breathe for me,” she heard Bucky saying, but it was faint, far away. Her fingers tingled, and she couldn’t focus on anything except the uncertainty and panic for her future. 

“Y/N—” it was Steve, his clear, commanding voice cutting through the fog. “Y/N, breathe now. Listen to me.” And she obeyed, focusing on him at her side. Focusing on his eyes, greener than Bucky’s yet somehow colder, his brow furrowed in concern or something else, she couldn’t tell. “In and out—just like that. Slowly.” She felt his hand on her back, rubbing in time with the breaths she was supposed to be taking.

“Good girl,” Bucky praised her, “Keep breathing.”

It wasn’t long before she stopped crying, focused on her breathing. When she was only sniffling lightly, fists still clinging onto Bucky’s shirt, Bucky pulled back a little to look at her face. She avoided eye contact with him as he took her face in his hands, thumbing away the tears.

“What’s the matter, baby?” he asked gently.

“Bad dream…” she whispered, voice raspy.

He frowned. “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

When she shook her head, Steve joined the embrace, wrapping them both in his arms. “You’re okay, darling. You’re safe here with us. I promise.” He placed a sweet kiss to the top of her hair, rested his cheek against her head.

His tone and gestures caught her off guard—gentler and kinder than he had been all day. It made her relax into their embrace and nod. Of course she was safe with them—why wouldn’t she be?

They were all she had left.

“Do you want to have a shower?” Bucky asked, brushing away sweat-soaked hair from her forehead. “Or a bath?”

“A bath,” she mumbled into his shoulder. 

Steve shifted and picked her up in his arms. “Let’s run you a bath then.”

The bathroom in their apartment was small, but they made it work as Steve sat her on the counter and undressed her while Bucky filled the tub. “We don’t have much,” he said offhandedly, throwing in some soap in place of bubble bath. Once it was filled with hot water, Steve picked her up again.

“I can go myself…” she mumbled, hiding her breasts with her arms.

“Shh, sweetheart,” Steve said softly. His temper from earlier had completely disappeared; seeing their girl so distraught had made him panic, and now he only wanted her to feel safe. Especially because he could tell her dream was about them, about her parents--just from the terrified look on her face, her despaired wails against Bucky’s chest. “Let us take care of you.” 

Once she was in the tub, she drew the bubbles up around her torso. “Thank you.” Her voice was quiet, but she looked up at them with a slight smile. 

“We’ll make up some supper while you’re in here,” Steve said, crouching down. He took her chin in his hand, thumb rubbing gently over the bone. “Are you gonna be okay by yourself?” She nodded shyly, looking down into the bubbles, but he drew her gaze back up with a tap on her chin. He leaned in to press his lips to hers, some bubbles wetting the front of his shirt, but he didn’t mind as he kissed her slowly.

She allowed him to kiss her, and when he pulled back, she was blushing again. Bucky kneeled down next to them and smiled before kissing her with as much tenderness as Steve had. He licked his lips when he pulled back, looked over her flushed cheeks, red-rimmed doe eyes staring up at them so sweetly, vulnerability all over her face. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. Be a good girl for us and just relax.”

The redness on her face darkened in color, drifted down to where her chest was concealed by the bubbles. Steve smirked at the effect they had on her, but only placed another chaste kiss on her forehead before standing up. 

“How does grilled cheese and tomato soup sound?”

“Good,” she answered, and gave them another watery smile before they left, leaving the door cracked an inch to keep an ear out for her.

Once they left, she breathed out a sigh, unable to identify the feelings inside her chest. Part of her was relieved they had left so she could be alone and sort her thoughts out, while another part of her yearned for their presence, their oppressive embrace and comforting arms. While she did feel overpowered by them, it was almost freeing. They made decisions for her—just like her father had—and they decided what was best for her. She could sink into that control, not have to worry about anything.

On the other hand, she wasn’t uncertain of so many things. She knew they would keep her safe, but what about everything else? What would they decide for her future? What about NYU? Would they allow her to go? Surely they would—they were proud of her when she told them the news. Maybe everything would be fine.

Maybe she would be fine.

That’s what she forced herself to believe as she laid back and let the hot water and bubbles surround her, getting lost in the blankness of her mind.

Dinner didn’t take long to make, between the two of them. Bucky whipped up his mother’s homemade tomato soup, which he had made for Steve so many times that he could do it blindfolded by now. Meanwhile, Steve fried up a bunch of grilled cheese sandwiches, and by the time they were crisp and ready, Bucky was getting Y/N out of the bath. 

He toweled her off and dressed her in a pair of sleep shorts and one of his own large t-shirts—the New York Knicks shirt she loved because it was soft and worn and the orange was so faded it practically looked yellow. 

She was silent as they ate at the table. Bucky and Steve chatted about various things. She was just finishing up the third square of grilled cheese when they addressed her. “Tony texted earlier,” Steve said. “The funeral is in two days. Ten in the morning. He’s gonna give a eulogy—wanted to know if you wanted to give one, too.”

Her lip twitched, and she looked down into her tomato soup. She shook her head in answer.

Bucky continued. “I brought you a dress from home to wear at the funeral.”

Her eyes turned glassy, and she didn’t look at them as she spoke in a timid voice. “I really don’t want to go…”

Steve sighed, and Bucky took one of her hands in his. “Sweetheart,” he started, “Honey, look at me.” He only continued once she did. “I know you don’t want to go. I know you feel hurt and upset after the past few days, and I know you’re angry. But it’ll be good for you to go to the funeral. It’s the last chance you have to get any closure.”

“Trust us, darling,” Steve said, and her eyes went to him, the somber expression on his face. “You’re gonna want closure.”

Steve’s moment of vulnerability and openness made her remember that they had experienced this before—their parents dying unexpectedly. Steve’s father died early in his life during a mob meeting gone wrong, and his mother died only a few years ago to pneumonia. That was when she had noticed Steve’s change in personality—while before, he had been happier, more carefree, he suddenly became stoic and angry, and it broke Y/N’s heart.

Bucky’s parents had died in a car accident around the same time, an event so tragic that Bucky had stuffed away any emotions about it, carrying on like it hadn’t happened. 

She saw the pain both of the boys carried now, saw it in their eyes as they looked at her. Eventually, she nodded and reached for them both, letting them engulf her in a hug tight enough to knock her breath away. None of them said anything for a long moment, simply taking comfort in each other in the wake of the harrowing memories floating around, until Bucky pulled back with a sniffle and a weak laugh.

“Your soup’s gonna get cold, honey.”

And with that, they went back to eating. Once they were finished, they curled up on the couch with Y/N between them cuddling her as they watched a movie. They barely got thirty minutes in before she fell asleep, head lolling back on Bucky’s shoulder.

“We’d better have her sleep in my bedroom,” Bucky said, “My bed’s bigger.”

“Okay,” Steve agreed as Bucky lifted her up. “You got her?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right back.” Once he tucked her in, he returned to Steve on the couch and sat close, allowing Steve to pull him into an embrace and cuddle with him as they both pretended to watch the movie. In truth, neither of the men could stop thinking about the events of the past few days, of their own traumas, of the girl sleeping in the room behind them whose father they killed.

Bucky’s guilt was eating at him, making him twitchy. Once the movie was over, he turned to Steve.

“Steve, can we talk?” he asked unsurely, chewing on his lip.

“Of course, Buck,” Steve replied, calm and collected, although he knew exactly what Bucky was thinking. 

“I think we fucked up.”

“Bucky,” Steve sighed, “Stane is better dead than alive.”

“He was her father,” Bucky hissed. “And we participated in his murder!”

Steve was silent for a moment. “Do you remember that time we all went to the Adirondacks with her family for winter break? That time when she was still in middle school—must’ve been thirteen or something.” 

“Yeah…” Bucky’s stomach dropped, knowing the exact memory Steve was about to bring up.

“And we took her skiing, and we convinced her to go with us out on that really difficult slope—what was it called?”

“Barkeater.”

“Right, Barkeater,” Steve huffed a laugh. “Yeah, and Y/N almost fucking died because she fell down the slope, and miraculously she wasn’t injured at all. Remember?”

“Yeah, but she was really shaken up.”

“So then when we got back to the cabin, Stane was drunk off his mind, but had this look on his face like he just knew where we were. Remember, he only wanted her going on the easy slopes? One look at her face and he could just tell that she broke the rules. You remember what he did?”

“Yeah, I remember…”

“Got that fire poker so hot and stuck it right on her back, burnt through her clothes and onto her skin. You remember?”

Bucky remembered the smell of burning wool and flesh, the way she screamed so loud that he thought she was going to cause an avalanche. It made his stomach turn even now, five years later.

“She still has that scar on her back. Saw it yesterday when we were in the bath.”

Bucky shook his head with a bitter smile. “You know, she acted like it never happened. One time she said to me, ‘I don’t know why you’re so afraid of him. He’s all bark and no bite.’ Can you believe that?”

“She’s better off with him dead. Tony told me Stane was never gonna let her go to NYU. He was gonna marry her off to someone in the mob—or maybe to another gang, to improve relations.”

“I’m not surprised.” They had seen firsthand how cruel Obadiah could be, how cruel he had been even to his own daughter. Truly, it wasn’t surprising that Y/N didn’t want anything to do with him, especially now that she knew there was no blood tying her to him. Still, he was the man she had grown up knowing as her father, and the man who had caused her so much trauma, and both Bucky and Steve believed wholeheartedly that going to his funeral would benefit her in the long run when she came to terms with all that had happened to her.

Steve and Bucky didn’t hear their girl wake up, confused by her surroundings and needing a glass of water. They didn’t hear as she got out of bed and moved towards Bucky’s bedroom door, which was already ajar.

“Still, we did nothing wrong. We weren’t even the ones to kill him.”

Nor did they hear as she paused just behind the door, stopping in her tracks at the talk of murder, waiting for them to go on. She knew they would never discuss mob business with her in the room, and she was so, so curious.

“I know we weren’t the ones to stick it in his neck, but we were outside the prison. We drove Nat and Clint away—we’re accessories—”

Before he could finish, Steve cut him off, voice hard. “Buck, the drug mimicked a heart attack perfectly. That’s what the coroner’s report said. Stane deserved to die, and no one’s ever gonna know we had anything to do with it. Stop worrying so much.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Steve and Bucky—her boys—were responsible for the death of her father—the man who was supposed to be her father. 

For a moment, she worried that she would be sick with the way her stomach rolled, her saliva suddenly tasting of bile, fingers stuffed with static and fuzz. She was surprised they hadn’t noticed her yet, hadn’t heard how loud her heart was beating, the tremble of her breath as she tried to contain her emotions. Angry tears welled in her eyes and they fell down her cheeks in a slimy cold trail as she strained her ears, still trying to listen into their conversation.

But they deviated to another topic, instead—meal plans for the next day, breakfast at home and dinner out on the town. 

Her vision narrowed, something sharp ringing in her ears like warning bells, fingers twitching with fury and hatred. 

How they could discuss something so benign after recounting their vile actions horrified her. How they could act like they cared for her, act like they loved her, make plans to take her out, when they killed her father—how they could act so normal after everything that happened made her sick.

She loathed these men—these despicable men. She wished she could go over to them, hit them and slap them and take all her rage out, hurt them like they had hurt her. But she had no idea what they might do to her if they found out she had been eavesdropping, that she knew their secret. That wouldn’t bode well, especially since she was their responsibility now, staying with them at least until the funeral.

Then the realization settled in, and she was paralyzed, still as a statue, as her anger slowly muted, a sinking understanding coming over her that she was stuck with them.

They were all she had left.

Hands shaking, body trembling with terror, Y/N silently made her way back to bed without alerting them to her presence. She lay awake, staring into the darkness, wondering how she could possibly get out from under the thumbs of the men who killed her father.

[bjy-on-ao3]

Kinktober Day 18

(As before, you can find a link to the AO3 version of this and the rest of my Kinktober 2020 prompts on the ‘Masterlist’ section of the blog.)

My bad taste in fictional men strikes again. Onto the hair-pulling! (And a warning for some misogynistic name-calling). Early cut also because again getting into things fairly quick.

Kinktober Day 18: Hair-Pulling (Tohru Adachi | Persona 4)

Fucking Tohru Adachi was never a gentle affair, no matter how good a day the man had or how much you tried to butter him up beforehand. Sweet, clumsy, and friendly on the outside, he was a torrid swirl of bitterness, entitlement, and anger on the inside. Anger he was more than thrilled to misplace one way or another when he got the opportunity - which wasn’t often, in many cases. So intimate encounters were often something that left you feeling sore but somehow satisfied when all was said and done.

Maybe it would have been smart to distance yourself from the relationship with him once you saw the darker side of him, but against all logic, you found him hard to resist. Even if his first priority was his pleasure and yours a distant second, you felt drawn to him. Perhaps you liked the way he treated you more than you cared to admit. Or your taste was just that poor, you weren’t sure at this point.

That night hadn’t been too much different than others. Sure, the two of you had been forced out for drinks with co-workers for some unimportant celebrations and made to foster niceties a bit longer, but it hadn’t been a  bad  day per se. Nothing had gone wrong and you hadn’t recalled hearing Dojima give Adachi  too  much of a hard time, at least compared to the usual. In your mind, it had just been a plain, boring day with nothing especially offensive. When you noticed the look in Adachi’s eyes as he followed you past the threshold of your apartment you knew he didn’t share the feeling. He was frustrated and dying to find a release for it. A release you knew would make thorough use of you.

The lock on the door had hardly been done before the man set upon you, all teeth and tongue and wandering hands. His grey eyes were as hungry as they were cold and ruthless, his touch feverish. His prompt swing from the mask of bumbling, but upstanding police detective was no surprise to you. The man’s mood could change on a dime once he was away from prying eyes. You weren’t sure if you should’ve been insulted or flattered that he let you see that side of him.

Once you made your way to the bedroom Adachi took little time ripping your clothes off - almost shocked he had given them that much time. Some were close to being  actually  torn away, a stitch bursting here or there, something made you squeak half-indignantly for the sake of the clothes rather than surprise. You weren’t looking forward to having to do some at-home tailoring on your uniform because he had gotten impatient. Though it didn’t seem he cared for your feelings that evening - not that he commonly did anyhow. After all, it wasn’t the first time it had happened in his haste to have your body.

Done undressing you, his eyes wide and half-mad in the depths of hunger and frustration, he spun you around, shoving you unceremoniously onto your mattress. You planted face first in the sheets with a muffled ‘oof’., Your head whipped back when you managed to prop yourself up on your palms and you shot him an annoyed look. “You want to try  asking  first next time?” You growled sourly. As much as you were used to him being a rough asshole, it didn’t mean you were always thrilled with every bit of it.

He leaned forward smoothly, wrenching a handful of your hair in his hand. You grimaced at the unexpected sting and hissed through gritted teeth. The sensation stung and you wanted to be angrier, but in the same instant, you felt your pussy throb and slicken in response to the brash action. A bark of harsh laughter assaulted your ears. “You really think I need your permission?” He sneered, a mixed expression of lust and contempt lingering in his stormy eyes. When you opened your mouth to snap back, he interrupted you with a tighter, more painful jerk of your hair. “It was a rhetorical question, bitch, I don’t  need  your permission. You’ll do what I want when I want it like the dumb little slut you are.” 

He allowed no further room for debate, twisting your head back away from him and readjusting his grip in your hair. You huffed angrily but didn’t open your mouth again, humiliated by how on point his words were. Even when he pissed you off to high heaven, you never stopped him. You might try and talk back or wrest some control away from him, but you didn’t say ‘no’. He knew you better than you knew yourself some days. That alone was frustrating.

Waiting obediently, you heard the sound of him fumbling with his belt buckle and pants, aching both from the ruthless hold on your hair and the heat between your thighs. You heard a grateful sigh when the whisper of belt leather and cloth went silent. His sigh and a rough prod at your folds were your only warning before he stuffed you full of his cock, groaning in delight at the sweet, hot embrace of your pussy he’d been craving. “Fuck, fuck,” You cursed at the stretch, biting down on your lip and trying to quickly adjust. You knew he wasn’t in a mood to tend to your needs, let alone allow you to adjust to him.

“Shit, your pussy feels so good. I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he groaned, rolling into a quick, hard tempo. “Couldn’t wait to be done with that work bullshit,” he continued, his other hand clamping down on your hip. 

You tried to relax against his brutal pace, take him for whatever pleasure there was to be had. You thrust back, trying to angle your hips to brush someplace more enjoyable. Adachi and his smart mouth couldn’t even let you take that for yourself in peace though.  “See? Why do I need to ask when you want it as much as me?” He jeered, bucking into you especially hard as if to add to his point. “You’re so damn wet, I’d even say you wanted it  more.”

He wasn’t expecting an answer, nor did he wait for one. Instead, he leveraged his grip on your hair, tugging you back toward him and off the brace of your palms. You yelped, the sting temporarily overwhelming. His hand on your hip moved eagerly to your chest, callously rolling one nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Despite your burning scalp and carelessness of his touch, the added sensation was enough to make your cunt contract around him and he groaned. He alternated between pinches and greedy palming of the soft, supple mounds, pressing you back even more. He bent forward, his thrusts growing more erratic, and bit down on the junction of your neck and shoulder.

You cried out at the rough treatment,  trying to keep your pace with him despite your change in position. Desperate for a contrast to his merciless affections, you stretched a hand down to your clit, clinging to his forearm to steady yourself with your other hand. “That’s it, fucking whore, touch yourself for me,” He spat lewdly, voice strained with his approaching climax. 

You obeyed, stroking yourself fervently, feeling the slap of his hips become more unsteady. It didn’t take you long to work yourself into a frenzy great enough for the knot in your core to tighten and burst, the angle of Adachi’s cock adding to the build despite the ruthlessness of his thrusts. Your orgasm washed over you, the blend of its euphoria and the bite of Adachi’s harsh touch making you arch your back and shout his name.

A low, obscene groan left Adachi as your tight, wet cunt pulsed around him, your body begging him to fuck you harder and deeper. He felt the familiar tightness in his balls as the edge of his climax swept him up, crushing your body even closer to his. “Fuck that’s good. I hope you’re ready for my cum,” he snarled, voice breathless and guttural. His hold on your chest and hair clenched so tightly it made you whine between your cries, he came hard, spilling into you hotly.

When he pulled out, you were near shaking, partly from your orgasm and partly from the strain of half holding yourself up on your knees on the bed. Breathing deep and slow, the air thick with the smell of sex, you felt his essence dripping out, hot and thick onto the sheets. At last, he released his vice grip on your hair and tit. Your scalp tingled and stung and you knew, just like the rest of your body, it would be sore in a few hours. If Adachi even gave you the time for  that  soreness to set in. You had a feeling he wasn’t done with you for the night.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Misconduct

Series Summary: After the events of Civil War, Steve and his team are stuck in their compound. Following a mission, you disagree with your stalwart leader but he does not take kindly to your defiance.

Sequel to Insubordination and Pulling Rank

Chapter Description: Steve takes the team on a mission but returns with a vengeance.

Warnings: dub/non-con and explicit sex (including oral) Obviously 18+ (like this whole blog) This chapter: masturbation and rough sex

Note: Okay, so here’s another follow up to this one. Hope you all enjoy some Scary Steve! He gets a bit terrifying in this one but I had fun writing him at least.

Anyhow, thanks for reading. Feel free to send an ask, reblog, or reply of your thoughts:)

You were relieved when Steve took the team on their next mission. It was only days after he had dragged you back to his room and since, you had been certain that he would barge in on you at any moment. In any place. You realized, through pointed stares and subtle grins, that he was toying with you. If he didn’t relish so much in your discomfort, he’d likely have acted on his obvious urges. He had taken to finding you in the most chance of instances; in the kitchen or the lounge, watching you through the clear glass wall of the gym. He always turned away when others could notice him. He was sly.

And so your goodbye with Nat was bittersweet. You hated to see her go but were relieved for Steve’s absence. This mission would see everyone away from the compound but you. You weren’t sure if the solitary break would ease your nerves or drive you mad. You watched the jet depart over the horizon and exhaled the breath you had been holding in dread. It was as if a pressure had been lifted from your chest. He was gone.

It took fifteen minutes of disbelief to settle down. Then you wandered the halls until you came upon the gym. It had been a while since your last fulfilling workout. You hurried to your room and changed, returning and taking your time in your reps on each machine. You were more relaxed as you finished your cool down stretches and dragged your feet back to your room. You flopped on your bed, your phone right beside you on the mattress as you closed your eyes. It had been so long since you felt like you.

You flipped on your television as you lazed across the bed and lost yourself in the drone of dialogue. You weren’t really paying attention but the white noise it provided calmed you further. It must have been hours spent doing nothing but staring at the screen before you returned to reality. Your phone buzzed as if to call you back to earth. Your eyes snapped open and you turned to stare at the small device. It was likely Nat telling you that they had reached the safe house, or maybe that they were on their way to the drop point. Whatever it was, any news was better than no news.

The small vibration continued to rumble your bed. You huffed and reached over clumsily to retrieve the phone. You lifted the screen to find it filled with notifications. None of them were Nat. Steve’s name blinked at you and you scrolled down. ‘Hey’; ‘Answer me’ ; ‘Y/N’ ; ‘Answer me now, soldier’. The last message had you sitting up straight. Your hand shook as you unlocked the phone and your thumb hovered over the text box. What could you say?

‘What?’ You typed tersely. You cringed the second you hit send. That wasn’t right.

‘One more chance to get it right, soldier,’ Steve replied and you gripped the phone, wanting to smash it on the night table.

‘Yes, Captain,’ You keyed in the message with derision, happy he could not see the scowl on your face. You waited for his response. As the minutes ticked by, you thought perhaps he was done. Merely playing with you from afar.

‘Top drawer. White box.’ The bubble blipped up and you slowly glanced over at your dresser. The phone shook again. ‘New uniform. I wanna see it on, soldier.’

You didn’t move, lowering the phone as you stared at the television. Even so far away, he had a hold over you. You could ignore him but knowing he would return and your plight made all the worse by such inaction, you looked to the screen again. Another vibration tickled your palm. ‘Five minutes, soldier. If I have to tell you again, your next exercise won’t be so easy.’

‘Yes, Captain,’ you repeated and set down your phone. So much for alone time.

Your life had come to be a maelstrom of uneasiness and Steve's shadow loomed even as he was miles away. You sighed and pushed yourself from bed, crossing to your dresser wearily. You shifted the top drawer open and a white box sat atop the rest of your underwear and bra. It hadn't been there that morning. Steve must have slipped in before his final briefing. The thought of him unknowingly coming and going from your room was chilling.

You took the box and set it on the top of the dresser. You shakily opened the lid, almost dropping it back in place as you saw its contents. A black lace bodysuit which couldn't possibly offer an ounce of modesty. You shook your head and grabbed your phone, your thumbs working furiously; ‘you can't be serious.’

Then your phone began to chime. You stared as Steve's name stood bold against the call screen and you swore, dragging your finger to answer. “You best get your uniform on, soldier.” Steve’s harsh command rose from the speaker. ‘Two minutes left.’

You hissed and placed the phone on the dresser beside the box, almost slamming it there. You tore your shirt over your head with a grumble. “I expect a response, soldier.’ The speaker barked.

“Yes, Captain,” You fought to keep the derision from your tone.

You removed your leggings next, making silent and quick work of your clothes. You sat on the edge of the bed to slip your feet through the leg holes, standing as you shimmied into the lace. You reached back to secure the hooks, the cups uncomfortable against your chest. The bottom was much too high cut, offering little cover to ass or thighs. 

“Ugh,” You huffed unthinkingly.

“What was that?�� Steve intoned dangerously.

“I said I'm done,” You lied.

“With five seconds to spare, soldier,” Your phone clicked as the call ended and messenger began to sing instead. You reluctantly took the phone and answered the video call. Steve appeared, shoulders bare, hair slightly askew, his eyes dangerous. “Well, let me see.”

You chewed your lip before a quiet ‘yes, Captain’ slipped out and you carried the phone to the tv stand, shutting off the bigger screen as you rested the smaller one upright against it. You backed away carefully, coming into full view of the camera. You tried not to look at him. He was much easier to avoid on a six-inch screen.

“Mmm,” He hummed in approval, “Now, when I get back, I'd say maybe three days, I want you in uniform. Just like this soldier.” He inhaled heavily and you could hear the predatory bristle in his breath. “Zero-hundred hours, my quarters. Understood?”

You crossed your arms, looking away as you nodded and muttered just loud enough for the mic. “Yes, Captain.”

“I expect you to stand at alert. Arms at the side, shoulders straight, eyes forward.” You stiffly fixed your posture and swallowed your irritation. “Better,” He praised. “It's too bad you got yourself suspended. I could use a soldier like you on missions…” His blue eyes were smoky even through the screen was at a distance. “Even officers need their r and r.”

You lowered your lashes, embarrassed at his comments. When had you become just an object to him? You had once been colleagues; peers; you daresay, friends. All this over a dumb argument. Well, it was more than that. He had changed since you had come to the compound. A kicked dog nipping at all who got close enough. You had merely been the unfortunate victim trapped in his maw.

You heard the shutter of a screenshot being taken and were drawn back to the present. “What are you doing?” You hissed.

“It's going to be a long three days,” He smirked. “I'm already rock hard, soldier.” You blinked, staring at the phone as you neared and lifted it from the stand. “Unfortunately I do have an early morning,” He continued casually, “And with this team, I can't see this mission going smoothly.” He raised a cynical brow, “I'll see you when I get back. Full inspection.”

The call ended at that and you frowned at the phone, slowly setting it flat beside the television. You were tired but you saw little sleep ahead of you. Before anything, you had to get out of this awful body suit. That at least would help you breathe.

***

It was only two days. You hadn’t managed to relax since the phone call and Steve’s impending return had you even more anxious than his presence. Anticipation was often worse than endurance. You were in the kitchen when you heard the jet on the pad atop the building. You were tempted to dump the chopped veggies and hide in your room without dinner but you knew there was no avoiding him. Besides, he had already taken so much from you. You weren’t going to let him take everything. You continued to dice the peppers, pulling a few more from the fridge. The team would likely be hungry and you couldn’t punish them for their leader’s proclivities.

Sam was the first to stomp in, his loud voice entering before him. “Mmm, what is that smell?” He boomed from the hall as you sizzled the onion in a pan. “Anything’s better than those ration packs.” He marched in, dragging his wings by the strap as he placed them heavily against the counter. “I see you’ve been enjoying your alone time.”

“Yeah, I…” Steve entered just behind Sam, crossing his arms as his eyes found you over his teammate’s shoulder. He leaned against the wall, watching you. His face showed little more than his usual stoniness. You turned and dumped the peppers from the cutting board into the pan, “I heard you guys arrive so I, um, added more.”

“You know a man well,” Sam joked and you heard more voices. Nat and Wanda were laughing as they appeared and greeted you warmly.

“Need help?” Wanda asked in her stoic accent.

“If you want,” You shrugged, continuing your work, “You did just get back. You guys are welcome to just chill.”

“Yeah, I mean, I doubt she’s expended her energy much in our absence,” Steve’s deep timbre cut through, “Barely more useful here than in the field.”

“Steve!” Nat hissed as she turned on him, “What the fuck?”

You saw the twitch in his jaw as he measured her before him. His blue eyes flicked to you for a second. Fuck, that did not bode well. He raised his brow sharply, “We’re a small team. Efficiency over numbers.” He growled, “I wouldn’t be much of a captain if I sugar-coated everything.”

“Not much of one when your such an asshole,” Nat snapped, “For fuck’s sake, give her a break. All you do is bitch.”

“All I do is watch your ass,” He retorted, pushing himself from the wall, “And hers,” He gestured at you, “And hers, and his.” He pointed to Wanda and Sam in turn. “And all I ask is that you fucking listen. And pay me the respect I’m due.” His hands were on his hips, making his shoulders look even bigger, “But here you are, mouthing off. And all for her? Who can’t take a single fucking order!”

“Let it go, Steve,” Sam chimed in “What was it? A week ago? Jesus.”

“She’s lucky she’s still here,” Steve snarled as he looked around at his team, “All of you are. This isn’t Tony’s parade, it’s mine. My team, my rules. You knew that when you joined up.”

You shook your head, a quiet sigh as you added the chunks of chicken to the vegetable medley. You turned back to grab some seasoning, sensing the heat of Steve’s glare. You looked up as he faced tensed at the sight of your silent defiance. He stepped forward, Sam’s hand on his chest keeping him from coming closer. “Cool down, man.”

“You got something to say, soldier?” He barked and you froze. You reeled as if slapped at the use of the title. “I see you over there rolling your eyes, so you got something to say, go on.”

You weren’t sure how this had all turned on you. You hadn’t said anything. You had done your best not to. “I…” You glanced around, Wanda and Nat looked terrified. “Nothing, Captain.”

“No, no, I can see it,” He pushed against Sam who strained to hold him back. “Go on and say whatever’s bouncing around in that simple head of yours.”

This was the last thing you had expected. Your plan had been to appease him; keep him as happy as he could be and be done with it. Yet, passivity had never been your strong suit and with a super soldier rearing at you, you had to bite back. “This isn’t what we signed up for,” You uttered grimly, “You’re not the man you were.”

“Let me go!” Steve tried to shove Sam away and Nat and Wanda grabbed his arms, the three of the barely able to keep him away from you. “I’ll show you who’s Captain, soldier.”

“She didn’t do anything, Steve,” Nat grunted, “Leave her alone!”

They struggled a little longer as you pressed yourself against the counter and finally Steve relented. He backed off and shook away the other three, pushing  Sam sharply. “Bunch of ingrates.” He growled, “All of you.” His chest rose and fell as he slowly retreated to the door, cracking his knuckles. “Post-mission briefing in one hour. If you’re late, you can join Y/N during our next mission.”

With that, Steve swept through the door and left the rest of you stunned. He had been temperamental lately but he hadn’t been so openly volatile. Your heart was pounding as you stared the door frame. You had been certain he was about to strip you down in front of everyone. Or worse. You gulped and slowly turned back to the stove, stirring the contents of the pan with a spatula. Your hand was shaking.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Nat asked quietly as she neared.

“Please,” You sniffed, “You guys shouldn’t have done that.”

“Defend you?” Sam scoffed. “We’re a team.”

“No, we’re not,” You breathed, “Not to him.”

“Y/N,” Wanda was at your elbow, her hand gently touched your shoulder. You looked up at her and her eyes searched yours. Her lips parted as if she could see right through you. “Did…” Her voice died and she looked around suddenly, as if recalling the others, “We only want to help.”

“Let him be mad,” You muttered glumly, “He’ll get over it,” You turned away evasively, “Really, we’ve all seen his moods. We should just--you guys, just let me finish dinner, please.”

You could sense them looking at each other but they didn’t say anything further as you ignored them for the stove top. You waited for them to leave, their footsteps hesitantly passing into the dining room. You stepped back from the oven and shook your head. Shit.

***

When you finally returned to your room, the team was in their briefing. You had your television going but couldn’t focus on anything but Steve’s presence. He was there, in the compound, and he was pissed. You were trying to dissociate when your phone buzzed on the night table. You looked over and your chest felt heavy. You bit the inside of your lip and reached over.

‘Zero hundred hours. My room. Don’t forget your uniform, soldier.’ Steve’s text was decisive. An order you couldn’t ignore especially after the episode in the kitchen. You checked the time. One hour. The briefing must have gone late. It was a couple minutes before you could move, a few more to dig up the body suit, longer to put it on. You hid it beneath a hoodie and some loose sweats, combing out your hair as you pulled on a pair of slip-on shoes. After a moment in crisis, you had ten minutes left. Enough to finish up your panic attack and get to Steve’s room.

You crept down the hall. The compound was quiet. The others had likely slunk back to their rooms after a lecture from their valiant leader. There was worse in store for you. It wasn’t far, a couple doors away. You stood before Steve’s room and stared. Just knock. You couldn’t stand there all night. You stiffly raised your hand, trembling, but you couldn’t do it.

The door opened anyway and you were caught in the cross hairs like a rabbit. Steve tilted his head as he stared down at you, gripping the door as he looked you over. “You’re late,” He greeted starkly, “I said zero hundred exactly.” You sputtered at him, unable to summon an excuse, and he grabbed your upper arm, nearly pulling you off your feet as he dragged you inside. The door shut with a thunderous click.

He released you and you nearly tripped over yourself. “Attention,” He called and you stood straight. “Uniform?” He asked as he rounded you, his eyes scouring your lazy attire.

“Captain,” You hastily unzipped your hoodie and revealed the bodice of the bodysuit. He nodded and watched patiently as you undressed; your clothes folded a top your shoes as you tucked them aside beside the door. You returned to your stance, shoulders straight and eyes forward.

“Mmm,” He walked another circle around you. You noticed how his hand balled into a tight fist. “Looks even better in person,” He came up behind you, his warmth searing your back, “Earlier, in the kitchen; not good.” His voice was dangerous, “You don’t know how close I was…” He inhaled deeply, pressing against you, “I could’ve had you bent over right there, soldier. Do you think they could really stop me?  Hmm? I let them stop me.”

You stayed silent, swallowing your fear. His tone sent a trickle of ice down your spine. “Tell me, how have I changed?” He leaned down, his voice gravelly in your ear.

You kept yourself from wavering as your legs threatened to buckle. “I...you...are different. Rougher,” His hand tickled the bottom of your ass, “Angrier,” His other snaked up, fingertips dancing along your throat, “Darker.”

“Heh,” He scoffed, his fingers stretching across your neck, “I think maybe you just have a problem with authority.” He sneered, “A good soldier knows their place. Holds their tongue.” He rescinded his hand and stepped away, smacking your ass hard enough that you stumbled forward. “You still lack discipline.” You could hear his belt buckle as he undid it. “Bend over. Touch your toes, back straight.” You did as he said, cringing as you gave him a full view of your ass, barely concealed in the bodysuit’s thong. “Hold just like that.”

It was a standard stretch but holding the position not so much. The first minute was easier, even the second was little strain. But then your muscles began to strain and the urge to look back as you heard his movement and the rustle of his clothing combined to make you restless. Your thighs began to burn, and your arms a little, your lower back adding to your discomfort.

“Good form, soldier,” His hand surprised you as he touched the small of your back, “Should we do another five minutes?” You clenched your jaw as he kneaded your ass. “I would but...we have a long night. I don’t want you to spend yourself in the first hour.” His hands squeezed your ass and he backed away again. “Stand straight, soldier.”

You righted yourself, the blood rushing from your head where it had gathered. You were almost dizzy for the sudden shift. Steve came up in front of you; naked. With each step, his thick cock bobbed and you kept your eyes on his face. 

“You know what,” He neared, grabbing the lace between your cleavage, “I prefer you without a uniform.” He rent the bodysuit down the middle, tearing straight between the cups and down the stomach. The fabric went loose around you, slipping down your legs as he tugged it past your thighs and let go. “You know, your suspension doesn’t have to be all bad,” He grabbed your chin between his thumb and index finger, “If you just followed orders, you could make everyone happy.”

“Yes, Captain,” You said in resignation, staring up at him dully. You just wanted him to be done with it. You hated his little taunts and jabs. It made it all more unbearable.

He removed his hand from your chin and turned, dragging the armchair so that it was right before you. He gestured you to sit and you obeyed without argument. Once sat, he pushed your knees apart as far as they could go. He stood straight, backing up as his eyes swept over you coolly. 

“We’ll start easy,” His cock twitched, “Touch yourself.”

Your face dropped. You blinked at him dumbly but his silence and the fiery look on his face assured you that you hadn’t misheard him. He waited, expectantly, but you knew he had little patience. You reluctantly brought your hand forward and slipped it down your thigh, inching towards your pussy. You had to look away as your fingers grazed your folds, dipping between your folds.

You dragged two fingers up to your clit, spreading the slickness which had started to pool there. You were embarrassed at your own arousal. You pressed on your bud, rubbing carefully back and forth as your nerves stirred. You closed your eyes, pressing your lips together as you tried to ease yourself into it. The only sound in the room was Steve’s even breaths.

“Now, soldier,” He commanded in a sultry voice, “You don’t stop til you cum.”

“Y-yes, Captain,” You replied in a brittle voice.

You caught yourself falling into your usual habits; dissembling before him. You pushed your legs against the arms of the chair, drawing circles more vigorously around your clit. The atoms more easily flurried, a vortex building within. Your head lolled across the back of the chair, your free hand across your chest as your breath picked up. Streaks of fire formed along your thighs and all once the heat erupted and you moaned as you reached apex; the fall as steep as the climb.

Your hand closed over your pussy as you quivered on the chair. You knew he was there, watching, but you just didn’t care in that moment. You slumped in the chair but not for long as Steve grabbed you by the arm and pulled you to your feet. He turned you sharply as you were off balance, barely able to keep yourself upright in the after waves. He growled as he shoved your shoulder and you were forced to bend, catching yourself on the seat of the chair.

He smacked your ass. You whined and he grabbed your hips roughly to keep you from moving. “You’re quite skilled at that, soldier,” His hand felt around between your legs, guiding his cock along your folds. “You must have a lot of practice.” You dropped your head in shame, holding yourself up against the chair. “Hmm? Do you touch yourself a lot?” He continued to rub himself along your entrance, teasing you. “Every night?”

“I…” You shudder, your arms shaking. “Not every night, Captain…” You bit your lip. Sparks burst up your spine as he pushed just his head inside you. “M-most, though.”

“Mmmmp,” He impaled you entirely at the confession, forcing you onto your tiptoes. You were jolted forward, your elbow bent on the chair as you arched your back. “No self-control at all.”

His hands slid lower around your hips, lifting you almost entirely of your feet as he thrust into you. You moaned, gripping at the cushion as he plunged into you, the sound of your juices filled the room. He was moving your whole body. Your arms shifted on the seat as hips snapped violently against your ass.. You were muttering to yourself as he fucked you, your thighs stung from the force of his relentless thrusts.

“We really have to work on that discipline soldier,” He spoke between shallow breaths, not missing a beat, “You don’t touch yourself unless I tell you to. You don’t cum--” He smacked your ass, “Until I tell you to.”You gritted your teeth as you felt the blooming, your next orgasm rising quickly. You began to tremble and bit down on your hand. “Not yet.” He warned but did not slow his pace. “Not yet.” He warned again and you held your breath, “Ah, ah, ah,” He had you completely off the floor, your legs dangling as he hammered into you.

“Ahhh--Now!” He pushed himself as deep as he could go and you spasmed.  

Your climax burst forth and you dropped your head down on your arm. The ripples coursed through you and Steve quickly picked his motion up, his own groans hinting at his looming peak. He pulled out all too soon and let go of you as he stroked himself urgently. You fell to your knees painfully, legs folded beneath you. Steve grunted as strings of warm cum spilled across your shoulders and you leaned against the chair weakly.

You fought to catch your breath as he seized your hair and pulled you back onto your ass. Your palms met the floor hard as you kept yourself from falling entirely and he bent over you. “That was your warm up, soldier,” He lifted you by your hair onto your feet as he stood straight, “Your real training is about to begin.”

+

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