#either on the brink of tears or grinning like an idiot the whole time

[five-abs-and-one-peck]

no movie about plastic bricks being gay and fighting each other should be so emotional and heart wrenching

[luvyanfei]

with a short & insecure s/o (hcs)

ft. xiao, kaeya, zhongli, & xingqiu requested by anon

this,,, this is me

xiao. 

he’s appalled when he finds out people actually tease you for your height. xiao has always known how terrible humans can be, but to think they would attempt to tear someone down, specifically his lover, just because they’re considered small irate him to no end. you might want to hold on to him tightly before he can storm off and declare war on the bullies who dared to torment you in any way. 

he honestly doesn’t care if you’re short or tall, ugly or pretty - your appearance isn’t what’s important here. he fell in love with you for what’s inside of you, don’t forget that, okay? xiao may not outright say all that because he’s embarrassed of showing his soft side to you, but if your insecurity gets the better of you, he’ll at least lend an ear to you as you rant to him while stargazing together. 

however, what xiao despises more than others treating you poorly is you belittling yourself. he has zero tolerance for that kind of attitude and will react quite aggressively, gripping you by the shoulders and shaking you. he can’t help himself. it hurts him deeply, dare he say more than a stab to his heart, seeing you wallowing in self-hatred. he’s harsh, but he means well. xiao would much rather see a content smile on your face than having you look disconsolate. 

“have you finally stopped your wailing yet?” xiao peers at your face drenched in tears in disinterest, but really, he’s pretty concerned on the inside. your sobs have been reduced to quiet sniffles, but your body won’t stop trembling. he looks away for a minute, sighs heavily, and pulls you into his arms, a blush coating his cheeks. 

he stays silent the whole time, too nervous to do anything really, as your palms press against his chest lightly and will yourself to calm down. xiao clears his throat and brings a finger down to brush away the glistening tears from your eyes. 

“look, just because you’re short, it doesn’t mean i don’t like you any less,” he whispers only for you to hear, and presses his lips to your forehead, letting it linger there for a few seconds. “even if you, or anybody else, don’t think you’re worthy enough, i at lease still care about you, so don’t let others’ opinions get to you.”

kaeya.

not to be blunt or anything, but kaeya being, well kaeya, he’s probably going to relentlessly tease you. he doesn’t do it because he harbors any ill-intent towards you. it’s just, kaeya is very fond of your flustered expression. if you happen to end up crying from his words, he’ll immediately stop and apologize guiltily. the last thing he needs is for you to abandon him too because of a fault on his end. 

kaeya really does love you a lot, despite your flaws and silently admires you for your empathy and altruism. one good thing about being shorter than your boyfriend is that you can wear his clothing on and he’ll be a gushing mess in no time. he’ll purposefully place his jacket somewhere for you to find in hopes you’ll put it on. he may be doing this just for the purpose of having fun, but he likes knowing that it means you're comfortable and accepting in your relationship with him. 

he likes patting you on the head when you pass by each other at random times, his lips curling in a knowing smirk. if you ever need help obtaining items that are out of your reach, kaeya will conveniently be there to lend a hand. it fuels his confidence how you always go to him for help instead of seeking support from someone who might be more reliable. it goes to show that your trust in him is deep. 

“having difficulties, [name]?” kaeya hollers to gain your attention as you look down from the ladder to glance at the knight, your hand outreached to grab at the material you need with failed attempts. “allow me to be of service~” 

he gestures for you to climb down and gets up the ladder himself, easily grasping the object in his fingers. once his feet has touched the ground, he lowers his hand to give it to you, but before your fingertips can make contact with it, he pulls it away from you. "ah ah ah~ shouldn’t i get some kind of a compensation for helping my dearest?” you stare at him in confusion before an idea plants itself in your head. ah. so that’s what he wants. with a roll of your eyes, you stride up the ladder till your eyes meet and kisses him on the lips. 

as you push your body away from him, he gives a closed-eye grin and nods in satisfaction. “that wasn’t too bad, now was it?” kaeya finally hands you the item, but he grips your free hand in his and guides it to press against his warm cheek. “you should realize by now what you’re capable of doing, stealing my heart like this. you’re so cruel [name], but perhaps that’s why i’ve grown to love you.” 

zhongli.

zhongli is an honest and good-natured man. he’ll immediately tell you that he doesn’t think to care about your height, so there’s no reason for you to worry about it either. he’s not an idiot though. he’s aware that your self-deprecating thoughts won’t disappear so easily with his consoling words alone. actions speak louder than words, after all. 

if anyone ends up insulting you for your size, zhongli won’t hesitate to politely stand up for you. although, if they stubbornly persist in demeaning you, it’ll push him to the brink of indignation, but he’ll still attempt to keep up a courteous manner for your sake as he calmly tells them to back off. like kaeya, he loves it when you wear his clothing! he’s lived for a long time to see many things, but witnessing you cuddling him while his jacket is draped snugly over your body has got to be the cutest thing he’s seen yet. 

ever the supportive individual, zhongli will help you come out of your shell and build up on your self-esteem. he’s there with you every step of the day, so if you ever slip and feel like you’re about to fall into an abyss of despair, he’ll take your out-stretched hands in his and guide you back into the light. 

“[name], is something the matter? you look as if you’re bothered by something.” zhongli questions innocently, studying your face carefully. your eyes droop slightly, but you reassure him that you were pondering how it would feel like if you were as tall as him. he nods in understanding and brings a hand up to his chin in thought. 

before you know it, he’s turned his back towards you and kneeled down. perplexed, you stare at him, unsure of what he’s doing. “you said you desired to know what it’s like to be around my height, so this is the only thing i can think of.” hesitantly, you place your hands on his shoulder blades to balance yourself and he makes sure to hold onto you tightly as he stands up slowly. you smile in appreciation at zhongli’s consideration over your feelings and presses your body closer to his. 

he beams back at you, sealing a kiss to your lips. “if you ever feel down, remember that there’s at least one person in the world that loves you - one of them being me, of course.” 

xingqiu.

he also reacts similar to kaeya, although his teasing is slightly toned down and less vocal. like, if you wanted to give him a kiss on the cheek, he might lean away from you and probably use a stool to make himself taller, but he’ll stop after a bit of fun and laughter. it’s not funny unless both of you are smiling, right?

he finds your short stature to be one of your charm points and will compliment you for that, calling you adorable and such. it’s kind of perfect for him because he likes being the big spoon, embracing you from behind and nuzzling his face against the back of your neck. if you’re around the same age as him, it’s alright! there’s still time for you to grow. he’s sure the both of you will be tall soon. there’s no judgement when you’re with him, so don’t be afraid of being yourself around xingqiu, alright? 

if he finds out your confidence is still lacking, he’ll scribble down a list of all the things he loves about you for you to read to lift your spirits up! although, that might prove to be a challenge considering his handwriting is infamously known for being illegible. 

“hmm... isn’t that the picture we took at liyue harbor together?” xingqiu observes the photo in your hand, reminiscing the fond memories. his honey irises flicker to you. “hey, what’s with the frown?” 

you shake your head and tries to change the subject, but he presses on to persuade you into explaining. when you finally do, he bursts into a fit of laughter, wiping away the tears pricking the edge of his eyes. “i apologize for my behavior, but [name], you shouldn’t have to concern yourself with such a trivial matter.” he tucks away a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, his index finger ghosting over your lips. 

“have i ever told you that you’re cute?” xingqiu murmurs, a sense of genuine compassion laced in his tone. “don’t stare at me like that, please. i’m quite serious, so there’s no need to compare yourself with me. no matter the height difference, i’ll always love you - if you’ll allow me too. 

tagging. @liliisacutieowo, @scarymoosh

[looooooooomis]

Somebody’s Baby

a stu macher x fem!reader one shot requested by the lovely @slasherscream​ 

I try to shut my eyes, but I can't get her outta my sight. I know I'm gonna know her, but I gotta get over my fright.

pairing: Stu Macher x fem!reader word count: 5.6k warnings: s m u t, longing, fluff, angst, oral, teasing, honestly I went off (my bad)

Stu Macher never really did stand a chance. At least not when it came to you.

He was putty in your hands, whether you knew it or not. He’d do anything for you, everything for you – even if that meant taking a backseat to Billy Loomis. He had to admit, it was gutting to watch you and Billy interact the way you did. The two of you were close – hell, the three of you were close – but there was something about you and Billy that seemed to just…make sense.

And, for the most part, Stu was okay with that. For the most part being the key words. Because, fuck, he’d be a liar if he said that tonight of all nights wasn’t bothering him. It was a night not unlike any other. The three of you had decided on a movie that Stu couldn’t really bring himself to care about all too much as you and Billy harped on and on about whatever it was the two of you were talking about, but it was your attitude that was rubbing him the wrong way.

You were distant tonight. You were cold. You seemed to smile real big whenever Billy would make a comment about the movie but if Stu said a goddamn word it was as though he’d sucker punched you in the gut. It didn’t feel angry, or at least he didn’t think you were angry, but there was something off about the whole damn thing and it was driving him mental.

You were tucked away in the chair with your knees curled up into your chest, frowning at a particularly bloody scene on the TV, a seemingly important one too, but Stu couldn’t bring himself to watch it. He was far too busy trying to discern what the lines on your forehead meant, what the furrowed brow and small, barely-there frown on that pretty face of yours meant. Had he unknowingly done something wrong? He didn’t think so, but stupid shit came out of his mouth all day long so, he supposed, it wasn’t impossible.

But there was a niggling feeling in his gut that told him that couldn’t be it. You weren’t mad or annoyed, you were cold. You were distant. It was as though you’d barricaded yourself away from him and done so with purpose. But why?

Why, why, why?

“It’s eight, Stu,” Billy muttered, far too engrossed in the movie to bother looking his way. “Didn’t you have to be at whatsername’s by eight-thirty?”

Glancing down at the time on his watch, Stu stretched out his long limbs and chanced another look at you only to find that your eyes were solely focused on the wall just beyond the television. For a moment, he remained still, waiting for you to do something. To look at him, to make a quip about his date, to do literally anything besides ignore him, but when your stare remained cast ahead, Stu sighed and stood up to his full height. “Yeah, yeah, I’m going.” He griped. “Think she’ll put out?”

It was meant to be a joke, something to lighten the mood or, at the very least, get you to crack a smile or roll your eyes, but when all you did was continue in your stare-off with the fucking wall, Stu’s stomach fell.

What the fuck was your problem tonight?

“Tact, fucker. Y/N is right here.” Billy rolled his eyes but shot him a small smirk. “And if she has a brain, don’t count on it.”

“Hilarious,” Stu mocked. “You guys need anything before I go? Some water? Some beer? Handful of condoms?”

“Fuck off,” Billy cracked a grin. “Don’t do anything stupid tonight.” He gave Stu a knowing look, being sure to keep his mouth shut around you in fear of letting anything regarding their little charade slip.

“Me?” Stu feigned hurt. “Never.”

Once again, he waited for you to say anything – a goodbye, at the very least – but when he got nothing in return, Stu merely rolled his eyes and walked out of the house.

You, on the other hand, remained stoic as ever as you blinked back a flurry of tears daring to spill out of the corners of your eyes. Your heart was in your stomach and your nails, which had been digging into your palms for the better half of the evening, carved out tiny half-moons into the sensitive flesh as you fought back every urge you had to scream and yell at the idiot for leaving you yet again.

The sound of the front door shutting was enough to make your body relax just enough for a few stray tears to roll down your cheeks. You were just so mad and so incredibly hurt all at once and, while you should have been used to it by now, it never got any easier watching that tall bitch of a man you’d grown to love over the years walk out for yet another date with another woman who was not yourself.

“You okay?” Billy asked, lulling his head towards you from his spot on the couch. He was the one person in the world to know your true feelings about Stu Macher and, while he’d never admit to it out loud, you knew he was oddly protective of you when it came to Stu’s idiocy, especially where his dating life was concerned.

You swallowed hard, not quite trusting your voice in fear of breaking down in front of him. So, instead, you remained silent and barely nodded. Was it hot in here or was it just you? You suddenly felt like you couldn’t breathe as you sat in the dark room with Billy to your left and Stu now long gone. Deep breaths, you thought to yourself, squeezing your palms yet again. Deep, calming breaths.

You heard Billy sigh as he paused the movie. “Y/N,” he muttered, his tone careful, “how’s he going to know how you feel if you don’t actually say shit about it?”

Through the thick blanket of tears still gathering in your eyes, you focused your glare on the dark-haired man. “Fuck off,” you barked out, “like it’s that easy.”

“It is,” he shrugged. “What’s stopping you?”

“The idiot has a date every week, Billy,” you hissed, “am I supposed to show up with a bouquet of fucking roses declaring my feelings as his tongue’s down some other girls’ throat?” With your emotions at an all-time high, you stood up from the chair and raised a shaky hand to anxiously toy with your hair. “I mean does he have to parade his shit around here the way he does? It drives me nuts.”

Billy remained quiet and still as he watched you pace in front of the tv. He’d seen this frenzied look on your face only once before, but he knew what was coming next. It wasn’t often that you let your feelings finally bubble over to the brink of explosion, but if your current state was any indication, he was about to witness a breakdown.

Standing up to his full height, Billy quietly walked towards you and placed his hands on either shoulder, holding you in place as his brown eyes searched your own watery gaze. “Hey,” he cooed, brow puckered. “Stu’s a fucking idiot if he doesn’t see what’s in front of him.”

You chewed on your lip in an attempt to contain the sob desperately clawing its way up your throat. “I can’t watch him do it anymore, Bill,” you finally said, barely above a whisper. “It just hurts too much.”

It wasn’t often you were met with the soft side of Billy Loomis, but you cherished those moments – though so far and few between – each and every time. With a sigh, Billy wrapped his arms around your shoulders and tugged you close. He said nothing, though, because what could he say? Stu was a fucking moron when it came to you, he knew as much, but uttering those words at a time like this would only hurt you more.

You sniffed, your tears bleeding into the cotton of his white t-shirt. “I swear he—”

“Wow,” Stu’s voice rang out into the silence of the room. Snapping your head towards his sudden appearance, you froze in Billy’s arms, terrified of just how much he’d heard. At first, he seemed to just stand there for a second, staring at the two of you wrapped up in each other’s arms with a resigned, almost defeated look in his blue eyes. But all at once, in typical Stu fashion, that serious undertone slowly morphed into an almost amused sneer. “You two move fast, huh? Guess I should’ve grabbed those condoms.”

You rolled your eyes, barely hearing Billy’s sly comeback as you gently pushed him away. That heaviness in your chest that had made you cry only seconds prior was now a raging fire inside of your chest. The audacity this big, dumb, ass of a man had.

“Hilarious, Stu,” you griped, sniffing as you walked back to your chair. “Forever the comedian.”

“Hey,” he held his hands up in surrender. “No shame in it, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You didn’t interrupt shit,” Billy said. “And you know it.”

“What are you even doing back?” You snapped, glowering across at the idiot. “Or did you get bored of this one already?” You made a show of looking down at your watch-less wrist. “Five whole minutes, that’s got to be a new record.”

Stu pretended to laugh. “I forgot my wallet, ice queen,” he grabbed his wallet off of the table but continued to glare down at you. “What’s your problem tonight, anyway? You’ve got a stick shoved so far up your ass it’s practically coming out of your—”

“I wouldn’t go there,” Billy warned, flicking the play button on the remote. “Stop while you’re ahead.”

Stu barely glanced at him. “Nah, Billy,” he shrugged and took a seat on the edge of the couch closest to where you sat. “I’m curious. Can’t a guy be curious as to why a broad suddenly decides to give you the cold shoulder?”

“I warned you,” Billy merely shrugged.

“A broad?” You growled. “Get fucked, Macher.”

“What is your issue?” Stu reiterated. “I’m serious. You’ve been acting like a—”

“I’m not getting into this with you.” Pushing yourself off of the chair, you stormed passed both men towards the front door. “Enjoy your date, dipshit.”

Stu watched you go in utter confusion but before he could get up to follow you and continue this entire fiasco, Billy smacked him upside the head. “Leave her be, idiot,” he merely said, not tearing his eyes away from The Exorcist. “Let her cool off.”

“Cool off?” Stu asked with a furrowed brow. “Cool off from what? You two got that heated that fast that she stormed out because I came back inside?”

A long, deep, heavy sigh escaped Billy’s lips as he – yet again – had to pause the movie. His eye twitched in irritation as he surveyed the almost dopey look on Stu’s face. “I just want to watch this damned movie and it’s like a fucking soap opera with you two.”

Stu blinked. “What are you talking about?”

“You seriously don’t know, do you?” When all he received was a blank stare from his friend, Billy pinched the bridge of his nose and swore under his breath. “You’re even dumber than you look, you know that?”

»»————-¤————-««

It was a few hours later when there was a casual knock at your front door. Your parents were gone for the night and, as you glanced at the time, your stomach gave a nervous twist. It was nearing midnight and, while it was a Friday and you were by no means tired, just who would be knocking at your door this late at night eluded you.

Debating on whether or not to answer, you remained firmly situated on your couch as you eyed the front door in disdain. Maybe if you waited long enough, they’d move onto the next house and your life could be spared for another night. But, before you could get too much hope on the matter, another loud knock erupted from the door. This time, however, followed by an all too familiar voice.

“Hey dipshit,” Stu’s muffled voice rang out, “open up.”

“The fuck?” You whispered in confusion before making your way to the front door. Sure enough, as you unfastened the lock, there he stood. Stu Macher in all his glory. His eyes were somewhat wild as he silently stood on your front porch, soaking you in from all angles as his Adams apple bobbed up and down in his throat. For the first time in…well, ever, it appeared Stu was at a loss for words.

“Stu, what the hell?” You asked. “My parents could have been home do you know how late it is?”

“Yeah,” he simply said, not moving an inch from where he stood. “But this couldn’t wait.”

You blinked. “What couldn’t wait?” You asked, glancing over his shoulder to see if this was some weird prank that he and Billy thought up. “Come inside, you’re freaking me out.”

“I—” His words seemed to die on his tongue. “I just need to know if it’s true.”

You frowned. “If what’s true?” You racked your brain for a possible answer but came up empty. “Did something come up on your date or something? If it’s about that rumour with me and Matt Sewinski, I promise you that’s not true. The guy’s a creep.”

Stu shook his head but his eyes remained glued to your face, unblinking. “No,” he simply said, “and I didn’t end up going out with Heather.”

You wrinkled your nose. “I thought it was Sarah tonight?”

Stu shut his eyes in sheer annoyance. “Heather, Sarah, whoever the fuck it was,” he opened those blue eyes open again and the raw intensity inside of them made you take a small step back. “I didn’t go.”

You swallowed hard and suddenly felt a wave of nausea overcome you. “Why?” You gulped out.

Stu licked his lips and ran a hand through his hair. He was yet to step foot inside your house and between the maniacal look in his eye and the chilled breeze seeping in through the open door, you shivered absentmindedly. “I talked to Billy.”

Four words. Four tiny little words was all it took to make the room around you spin on its axis. A cold sweat broke out across your chest as you averted your eyes to the wall directly beside his head. Maybe if you didn’t quite look him in the face, you could get out of what was about to become an incredible awkward, painful situation. With your breath trembling, you swallowed again and tried to find your voice. “About what?”

Stu cocked his head to the side. “Y/N,” he warned, “cut the shit.”

Another painful gulp. Your throat felt like it was closing in on you as you stood there facing the boy you’d been in love with for as long as you could remember. You’d often dreamt of this day, the day where he’d finally realize your feelings only to have them reciprocated fully – but when you’d pictured it, Stu looked a lot less crazy than he did looking back at you now. But, even still, there was a glimmer of emotion shining brightly behind those blue eyes that made your breath hitch in your throat.

It made you nervous.

Worse, it made you hopeful.

“Stu,” you tried to find some conviction in your tone, but your nerves got the better of you. “Can you just get inside first? You’re scaring me.” Despite feeling as though you were going to faint, you managed to reach across the divide to yank him inside of your house. Locking the door behind you, you took a few even breaths before turning back around to face him. “What did Billy say?”

Stu ignored your question as he began to pace around your hallway. He was this tall, broad, string bean of a man on a regular day, but the mass of him tonight was all encompassing as he governed your foyer. “Seven years,” he began, his voice slightly shaky. “We’ve known each other for seven fucking years, Y/N. And I’ve hung on your every fucking word for all of six years, eight months and a handful of days, give or take.” He turned on his heel rather abruptly to face you. “But you liked Billy.”

You opened your mouth to respond to the first half of his statement before realization dawned on you. Grimacing, you shook your head. “Billy? He’s like my brother, where the hell did that come from?”

“You act like he hung the fucking moon, Y/N!” He exclaimed, emphatically. “What was I supposed to think?”

“What?” You shook your head in sheer confusion. “Okay, one thing at a time. Billy is one of my best friends. So are you. What’s the problem here?”

“The probl—?” Stu laughed. “The problem? For seven fucking years you’ve been the first person I think of when I wake up and the last person I think of before I go to sleep. And literally every fucking second in between. And this whole goddamn time, I thought you were in love with Billy.”

You were reeling. You weren’t entirely sure if your heart was beating as loud as it appeared to be, but you were sure he could hear it from where he stood a few feet away. “I—” You tried to form a sentence – any sentence – but nothing seemed to suffice. “But the dates?” Were the only words that seemed to spill from your lips. “You were dating – are dating – constantly.”

“Yeah,” he breathed out, “wonder why.”

You weren’t sure when you’d done it or just how your legs managed to carry you back into the living room, but you found yourself falling against the arm of the couch in an almost dream-like state. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m not trying to say anything,” Stu fussed. “I want to know if what Billy told me was true.” He walked up to you and searched your face. “Do you love me?”

You didn’t answer at first. You couldn’t. Not when it felt as though your lungs were about to explode in your chest. You must have opened your mouth a dozen times over, each time with the promise of a formative sentence, but nothing seemed to suffice.

Suddenly Stu’s hands were on you. Squeezing your thighs with those large hands, he demanded your focus as he swooped down and caught your eye. “I need you to answer me, doll.”

You were so focused in on the overwhelmingly glorious feeling of his hands on your thighs that you forgot to answer. Hell, you forgot to breathe. It wasn’t until you slowly managed to tear your eyes away from his hands to trail up the rest of his body towards that striking face of his, that you found your words.

“You came to my house at midnight. You’ve been the one going on dates like it’s a part time job. You’re the one claiming to have been hanging on my every word for the better half of our friendship so, no, Stu, I’m not saying a fucking word until you tell me what it is that brought you here this late?” You pushed his hands off of your thighs and stood up. “All I’ve done this entire time is sit idly by and watch you carry on like Heffner at the Playboy Mansion. You want me to answer you? Not until I get a—”

Your answer came in the form of a kiss.

On instinct, your hands tangled through his hair as his tongue slid along your bottom lip. He might have been on your shit list at the moment, but fuck he was a good kisser. You’d been thinking about this very moment for as long as you could remember. Longer, even, and god was it everything you thought it would be and more.

His hands were on your face at first, cradling it gently as he backed you into the sofa, and then they were on your neck, holding you close as his tongue massaged against your own. Shivering beneath his touch, you instinctively leaned into his broad chest as the pair of you continue to stand there, kissing like your lives depended on it.

“Stu,” you mumbled against his lips. “What are we doing?”

“Kissing” he rasped out before finding your lips yet again. “Bed or couch?”

Every red flag in your head was going off to stop this and properly talk about what was not so subtly insinuated only seconds prior, but he just felt so good and you’d wanted this so so long. “Bed,” you told him breathlessly, without a second thought.

Stu wasted no time in leading you towards your bedroom, kissing his way down your neck as you stumbled down the narrow hallway. Obviously losing his patience about halfway through, he pushed you up against the wall and trailed sloppy kisses down your jaw and neck. “I love you, if that wasn’t obvious.” He breathed out. “Like, a lot.”

His words struck you blind. Ever the dutiful distraction, however, Stu’s hand trailed down your sweatshirt before settling on the waistband of your pajama shorts. Your body reacted to the promise of his hand. Arching into him, you bit your lip and sighed in contentment as his fingers slipped beneath the band. You were already soaked. Your body responded to the man in a way you couldn’t begin to comprehend, and you weren’t sure you wanted to. And as his middle finger slid into your folds, instantly finding your clit, a soft moan escaped your lips.

“Is this the horny part of your brain talking?” You growled, tugging at the ends of his hair so that you had full access to his lips. “Or are you serious?”

“So fucking serious.” He hummed into your mouth. He pinched your clit, garnering a rather surprised hiss to escape from your lips as your entire body lurched forward. Hearing him chuckle, you popped an eye and began to pull his shirt over his head. When you tossed it across the hallway, his eyes met yours. “Do you love me?”

“Yeah, but I have bone to pick with you first,” you chided, doing your best to control your breathing as he quickened his pace on your clit.

He ducked his head down to bite your lip. “Unless it’s this bone,” he ground his hips into you, and you could feel his rock-hard erection even through his jeans. “It can wait.”

You laughed before you could think of stopping yourself. “Jesus Christ, you’re disgusting.”

He was smirking across at you. “You love it.”

Still grinning, you rolled your eyes before your lips took refuge on his neck. Which, as it turned out, was a massive turn-on for Stu Macher. Running your tongue along it and nipping at the sensitive flesh, was getting him incredibly riled up if the bulge in his jeans was any indication. Biting down on the sensitive flesh, the groan it drew out of his mouth was enough to make your already wet pussy clench around his fingers.

“Fuck,” he drew out, sliding the finger that had been assaulting your clit only seconds prior inside of you.

You let out a small moan of your own as you hurriedly got to work on his belt. “Why the fuck wouldn’t you just tell me how you felt?” When you’d managed to practically rip it off of his waist, you wasted no time in unzipping his jeans. His cock sprung free within seconds.

“I thought you liked Billy,” he rasped out gruffly as you began to pump his cock with your hand. “What was I supposed to do?”

You wiggled free from the hand currently down your shorts and dropped to your knees. Looking up at him through your thick eyelashes, you raised your brow. “You could have asked me?” You reminded him, swirling your tongue around the tip of that perfectly girthy cock. The man might have been a pain in the ass but good god he had the assets to make up for it.

Stu braced himself against the wall behind you and threw his head back. Fuck, you were lethal with that mouth of yours. “Hindsight,” he breathed out.

You released his cock with a pop. “You’re an idiot.” Was all you said before getting back to work. With your hand, you circled the base of his dick and took the length of him inside your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip each time you made your way back up.

He grabbed your hair and gave it a firm pull. “Fuck,” he growled. “Keep going.”

You hummed against his dick, digging your nails into his thigh briefly before looking back up at him. “Or what?” He allowed his forehead to fall against his forearm currently stabilizing him against the wall. You knew you were driving him crazy, but he’d done the same thing to you for the last seven years and you were nothing if not a petty bitch when you wanted to be. “Say it again.”

He furrowed his brow. “Say what?” Realization dawned on him. “Fuck, baby, you keep doing that I’ll put a ring on your finger tomorrow.” Stu’s blue eyes were hungrily taking you in. How you’d managed to stay fully dressed as he stood there with his jeans around his ankles and his cock out was beyond him but, sure enough, that was his reality. “I love you. A lot.”

You dug your nails into his thigh again, and slowly licked up the base of his cock. “Hmm,” you hummed with a nod of your head, releasing it to stand up to your full height. His eyes were pleading with you to finish him off, but as you slinked up the wall and mirrored his hungry gaze, he surprised you by sliding his calloused hand up the side of your neck until it cupped your cheek. You were practically nose-to-nose as he slowly pinned you against the wall and, as he leaned forward and nudged your nose with his, a slow, lazy grin broke out across your face. “I love you, too.”

Slowly, you leaned in and kissed him. Unlike the deliberate make-out session you’d had minutes prior, this kiss was slow and methodical. When you pulled away, you kissed the tip of his nose and nodded towards your bedroom. “Get on the bed.”

Stu’s eyebrows shot up in amusement. “Pushy.”

You gave his dick a tug. “Go.”

He swooped in again and kissed you before haphazardly kicking off his shoes and jeans, punting them across the hallway as he backed you into your bedroom. When you were close enough to your bed, he broke the kiss to peel off your sweatshirt. Throwing it across the room, his hands were back on you within seconds, kneading and massaging your breasts before taking one in his mouth. Expertly, his tongue ran along your nipple before he began to suck and nip at them. Arching into his mouth, you fisted a handful of his hair and groaned as he pulled you in even closer.

“Stu,” you moaned, shutting your eyes momentarily as you allowed yourself to get lost in the feeling of his mouth on your tits. The man truly was a god with his tongue.

But you had a trick up your sleeve. A little payback, if you will. And this, melting into his mouth, was not part of the plan.

Hating yourself, you pushed him away. The back of his knees hit your bed and you watched as he fell back onto the soft mattress with a slight bounce. There was confusion in his stare as he sat there ogling you. “Get over here,” he beckoned, voice low.

Slowly, you shimmied out of your pajama shorts, feeling his eyes on you every step of the way as you stepped out of them and walked towards the bed. Towards him. Sitting himself up, he opened his legs so you could step between them. His hands were slow as they trailed up and down your thighs, hips, and waist before sliding around to your ass. Squeezing and pulling at your cheeks, he pulled you closer and placed a tender kiss to your sternum before craning his neck up to peer up at you.

“I always knew you had a thing for my ass.” You raked your fingers through his hair, pushing it back and away from his forehead as you grinned down at him.

His answer came in the form of another firm squeeze of your ass only rather than stop there, he tugged you closer until you were tumbling onto his lap. You gripped his shoulders as you straddled his lap, subtly grinding your hips so his erection settled between the folds of your pussy, rubbing against your clit.

“Lay down on your stomach,” he uttered. When he noticed your apprehension, he raised a single eyebrow up at you and squeezed again. “Do you trust me?”

You nodded mutely and did as you were told. And, before you knew it, you were sliding off of his lap to lay stomach-down on your bed. You felt the bed shift as Stu crawled towards you but before you could question him on it, you felt his hands slide beneath your hips to pull you up so that your ass was raised in the air.

“What are you—”

Your words died in your throat as you felt his tongue glide along your pussy. Gasping, you nearly buckled forward, but caught yourself on your pillow. You were face down, buried in the comforter and pillows of your bed, but with your hips bent at the level Stu had moved them into, he had full access to both your pussy and your ass. You could feel his fingers kneading into your ass as his lapped up your every fold until settling on your clit. You groaned and buried your face into the pillow as he began to suck your clit. You could hear how wet you were as his mouth imbibed every inch of your pussy.

His name tore out of your throat and your knuckles whitened as you gripped the bedsheets. The veins in your neck swelled with every laboured breath you managed to draw and you found yourself bucking into his mouth as an orgasm rippled through your body. You moaned and groaned and cursed into the bed but Stu’s mouth was relentless. And as he pinched your clit all the while still lapping you up, you all but collapsed. When he was sure you couldn’t take another second of torture, he pulled away and allowed you to collapse onto the bed. Your cheeks were flushed, and your lips were parted as you attempted to catch your breath. With a quiet chuckle, he kissed his way up your spine, grinning against your skin as your legs continued to twitch.

“Can I?” He asked, his cock at the ready.

Nodding, you gasped when you felt him slide inside of you. He bit down on your shoulder as he thrust into you and his quiet moans and unsteady breath was enough to kill you. “Fuck,” he whispered. “You feel so fucking good.”

This was a high unlike any other for Stu. Watching his cock slam into you, watching your ass slap against him with every wild thrust and pump he provided and feeling just how fucking wet you were for him – this was the unattainable high. You were the unattainable high.

He reached around to play with your clit again. He could feel it throbbing between his fingers and, feeling you tremble made him weak. Quickening his pace on your clit and steadying his thrusting to ensure you finished again, Stu bit down on your earlobe. “Come for me, baby.”

Your answer came in the form of another thick, guttural moan as you came undone yet again. He watched you quiver and shake and the vision of it was enough for him to quicken his thrusts. Groaning, his hands fell from your clit to hold your hips as he pounded into you. The sound of your cheeks slapping against him was drawing him closer and closer to one hell of an orgasm and as you let out one last breathy moan, his whole body seemed to erupt in fire.

His breathing was heavy as he came inside of you and the more sensitive his cock got with every thrust, his pace slowed. For a moment, neither of you moved. Instead, he allowed his forehead to fall back against your shoulder before he slowly pulled out.

“If I’d have known that’s what I was missing, we should have had this talk a lot sooner.” You teased, earning a playful smack to your ass from the man. Grinning, you flopped back onto the pillow and stared up at him. He was leaning on one arm as those blue eyes scraped over every inch of your face. You could see the words he wanted to say splayed out across his face and found yourself reaching up to brush his hair back and away from his sweaty forehead.

“Right back at ya,” you smiled.

Fuck, you really were in love with the idiot.

[gummygowon]

regretful jellyfish | jeong yunho

word count: 1.3k

genre: angst, tiny bit of fluff, best friend yunho x fem. reader

best friends au!

warnings: kind of cheating? (if there's more pls let me know)

song recommendation: restless by bibi & cigarette by offonoff

a/n: this is inspired by my friends and because we can't go to prom this year :(

highschool prom, the one school event you’ve been looking towards to ever since you watched high musical 3. this year's prom theme was something that you were surprisingly looking forward to which was 'under the sea' and located at the city's aquarium. a night of dancing next to fish and sharks with your friends and prom date was something even more than middle school you ever dreamed of.

so far everything has been according to plan, your hair looked gorgeous and your outfit and makeup looked absolutely stunning. and to make things even better, you got asked out by your long time crush, jeong jaehyun. you’ve been crushing on that dude since sophomore year and now in your senior year you finally have a chance to be more than just friends.

yeah, you’ve heard all of the warnings from your friends telling you not to fall for such a playboy but you couldn’t help yourself and his damn smile didn’t help either. so when jaehyun asked you out with a poster and flowers, you almost died from shock right on the spot.

however, your best friend yunho, was the complete opposite of shock. he was more disgusted or maybe even jealous that jaehyun was the one asking you out. yunho heard all the dirty things he did with girls and how he was douchebag to almost everyone which is what made him wary of your friendship with the latter. it also didn’t help that yunho also had feelings for you but he was too much of coward to ever confess. but yunho was only your best friend. best friend...

so if jaehyun made you happy then he would have to bury his feelings even further. sure, it upset him but jaehyun had balls to ask you out which he didn’t have and now the lucky bastard got the girl.

unfortunately, you really should’ve listened to your friends because as soon you guys walked into prom together, jaehyun was already flirting with another girl. you didn’t even bother trying to wrangle him back to you. once he was with a girl, there was no way of getting him back.

with the night already off to a shitty start, you wandered away from the crowd and ventured deeper into the aquarium. you reached the dead end of one of the 'hall of fishes' exhibit which was a big circled room with never ending glass walls full of different marine species swimming inside.

you leaned against the railing, zoning out. how could you be so stupid? there was no way you could have changed him. once a fuck boy always a fuck boy, you idiot.

tears began forming in your eyes the more you thought about the situation. you couldn't cry over some bitch boy. he wasn't worth it. no matter how many hours you spent blushing over him, he wasn't worth it. more thoughts came into your mind like a dumb animal walking into a trap. thoughts that reminded you how dumb you were, pushing you closer and closer to actually crying.

that is until you heard someone enter the room, you sniffled quietly and brought a finger to your eyes, catching any water droplets.

"did you know that jellyfish don't have a brain?" a familiar voice asked.

a smile appeared on your face for the first time this night, "didn't i tell you that?"

ever since your school revealed the theme for prom and venue, you've been spewing out random ocean facts to yunho in pure excitement.

"yeah, you also told me that sharks the only fish to have eyelids." yunho added on, a grin on his face too.

"so you were paying attention to me." you teased as you bumped his arm with your shoulder.

"of course i did, when do i not?"

you laughed at his response before returning your gaze back to the jellyfish swimming around. you weren't sure if yunho knew what happened with jaehyun but he probably found out somehow. he always did.

"why aren't you with your date? the slow dance is coming up soon and i know you've been waiting for it." your best friend asked, he didn't know why he was trying so hard to make sure you and jaehyun worked out or at least for the night. he just wanted you to be happy. to be happy with the guy that you've been crushing on for years. to have this night feel like a dream.

"he left me." you answer bluntly, before turning your gaze back to yunho. guess he didn't know.

"oh. i'm so sor-"

"don't even bother," you wave your hand in the air, shooing away the apology. "i should've listened to you guys anyways."

yunho stood there in silence, staring at a particular blue tang, not knowing what to say. he couldn't just confess right now, that would be inappropriate and selfish of him. usually, he was good at comforting his friends but comforting his crush after they got rejected by the guy they've been pinning after for years was something he didn't know how to do.

"you can go back, the slow dance must be starting soon." you said after breaking the silence. "i don't wanna ruin your night too."

yunho's heart was beating faster as his mind was violently urging him to ask you to dance or just say something. "it's okay, i don't wanna leave you alone."

you were about to argue for him to go back but you decided against it and smiled back instead, looking back at the fish swimming back and forth with the kelp swaying in the back.

the two of you were in a peaceful silence, looking at the aquatic animals thinking different things.

your mind was yelling at you for being a dumbass and believing that you would be the one to change a fuck boy's mind while yunho's was yelling at him for being a coward.

if he just confessed to you before jaehyun ever came into the picture, you wouldn't be here on the brink of tears on the one event you've been waiting for since you were seven. you guys could be slow dancing together, problem-free and regret-free.

from the distance, you guys could hear the dj's loud voice drift into the room, "ladies and gents, gather your partners because it's time to slow it down!" loud ooo's and cheers joined in right after.

"may, i have this dance m'lady?" yunho asks with his heart beating out of his chest and cheeks flushing a faint red.

a bright smile appears on your face as you take his hand, "of course, sir."

as soon yunho brought you closer to him, you realize how much he's been there for you ever since you guys became friends. memories flooded your head, almost bringing you tears of happiness. you pulled yunho even closer to your body, burying your head into his neck while his arms wrapped around your waist tighter.

slowly but gracefully, you guys swayed to the distant slow song with thoughts full of regret. regret about not confessing sooner and regret about not listening to your friends.

the longer you danced, the more you thought about how much your best friend was the better option. in a way, it made you feel selfish for thinking of yunho as just a choice leading you to thinking that he deserved a better partner than you. someone who could cherish him from the start and all the way to the very end.

yunho, on the other hand wanted this moment to last forever. slow dancing in the dark with his crush, as he held onto you like you were the only thing that matter. if he couldn't have you like this for himself, then he would have to make sure moments like these lasted. sure, it was a little self-centered of him but this was the price had to pay for waiting.

the price of waiting: a dance with the girl he wants but she had her heart set on someone else.

and the price of this dance with this boy: the girl realizes she's been in love with him this whole time.

[taro-im]

~master~

levi x reader

synopsis: You were a human spirit trapped in a cats body, you love your master he was the first kind human you ever met, till one day you died and went back into your original body, still trying to find him even though you don’t know that it’s been over 2000 years since you came back…

(This version your 19 as a human)

you were stuck in a cats body,stuck on a cold street trying to find shelter till a man with an umbrella saw you wet, scrawny, and skinny, at the brink of death, he bent down and picked you up, at first you were really scared and scratched his finger “Oi I’m trying to help” he said frustrated… you still didn’t trust him what does he want with a cat like you, you wished you could turn back into human and runaway “tch I’m more of a dog person” he muttered to himself but you still heard, you fell alseep while he was carrying you

You woke up in a foreign and new place… where were you? You were frantic and scared, for some strange reason you felt tranquil after you saw the man who took you in on a chair reading a book with his hair wet, you felt it was safest near him so you jumped on him “Oi don’t do that you scared me” he said annoyed, you couldn’t tell what was on his mind you still question yourself if he doesn’t like cats why is he taking you in? “The names Levi, nevermind why am I talking to a cat” he said petting you till you purred, his names Levi? Is that your new masters name? What are you saying your not actually a cat your a human who woke up in a cats body “why does it feel like you can understand me?” He said sarcastically, you meowed back in response “oh so you do understand?” He gave a little grin and that’s how his and your dynamic beginned

Levi brought you a beautiful collar that sort of rings whenever you were around, Levi and you would start off your mornings by him putting you on his lap and petting you, whenever he was alone or doing paperwork he would talk to you, he believes you could understand what he is saying which yes you do understand, Whenever Levi was on an expedition you missed him so much, you were staring to act like a real cat, craving his attention, craving everything he does it wasn’t healthy of you but whenever he came back you would cling to him till he pushed you off of his lap or his shoulder

It has been 5 years since you became a cat, and those 5 years have been the best years… pretty crazy thinking you were stuck like this for 5 years and you liked it? The reason why you liked it was because of him your master Levi Ackerman, it was wrong you knew your actually a real human, some days u would be super sad you wished you were back in your human body and you could actually be with Levi and kiss him on real human lips, it was wrong of you to think that way but you still dreamed

One day you and Levi were going into town, for some reason Levi always carries you whenever your outside “I don’t want your clean paws on the ground” he says that all the time so he either carries you or try’s his best for you to not get dirty Levi went into a shop to get some materials for him to use, Levi and you left the store, walking on the crowded streets , Levi dropped an apple on the floor you ran out of his arms and tried getting it for him, you ran for the shiny red apple finally you got it but then suddenly there was a big dark shadow, it was a carriage going towards you, you got ran over by the carriage and died, the dumbest way to die the last thing you could of thinked of was your Master, Levi

You thought you were dead then suddenly you gasped for air, your stomach in pain from the accident, scared, confused, frightened was it a bad dream? You were in a different room again… you suddenly saw human fingers it was yours, you found a mirror and looked into your reflection… you were human again… you were human again? Your shocked at what is happening your not a cat anymore your so happy, then suddenly you noticed the room what is this place? You heard a big slam from a door opening “y/n dear your awake!” your mother said grabbing you into a tight hug crying, You missed your mother so much and you get to see her now “mom where am I? What’s going on?” You said frightened, “honey your such an idiot, you were walking on the streets and a car hit you!” She said scared “I-I did ?” You said confused again “how old am I mother?” You said “Y/n your 19” she said worried thinking you have amnesia, your 19? You were 24… what’s going on, you looked like you saw a ghost “dear let’s go back home” she said packing your things from the hospital

You left the hospital that night confused, where were you? This isn’t the survey corps, where’s Levi? Is he worried about you? What’s happening… your freaked out was that all of a dream, were you just crazy? You were fidgeting till you heard a little bell rang it was your hand it was the collar he brought for you but it turned into a bracelet, you had tears of joy there was hope none of this was a dream it could of been real

You went back home not able to sleep rethinking of what’s going on, you and your mother went back to the hospital to examine you, you lied that you had amnesia and your mother was worried sick, it took 5 weeks for your wounds to heal, your stomach stil in pain thinking of that day, you missed him

You decided to walk the streets and try to find him… yeah you totally went crazy everything looked so futuristic then from when you were a cat, then finally you saw a store that said “Survey Corps”. You ran to the store foolishly thinking it was the real thing, you opened the door and it was just a bar “miss can we help you?” A man said confused “um I’m sorry” you closed the store door and left, the whole night you walked the foreign streets foolishly looking for your master Levi, was it all just a dream? Or was it real, you don’t know.

This story is pretty cringey but should I make a part2?

[emilia3546]

Shadowsinger Part 2 - Gwynriel

ACOSF Spoilers! Do Not read this unless you have finished ACOSF and the Azriel bonus chapter

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Part 1

*****

Gwyn hadn't seen Azriel for days, not since she'd found him on the roof, he'd been called away for some sort of emergency, and she hadn't even been able to explain that she wasn't following him, she should never have joined in, he'd clearly wanted to be alone, perhaps that was why she'd run away. She groaned, and tried to focus on the pages in front of her, tried to disappear into her book like usual, but something kept her mind on the Shadowsinger, she found herself reading the same sentence three times while thoughts of him swirled in her mind. It wasn't that the book was bad, it was actually one of the best ones she'd read that month, but she couldn't help but see herself in those pages, herself and Azriel.

She almost threw the book across the room in disgust at the beautiful declaration of love, book Gwyn had no trouble talking to book Azriel about her feelings. She rolled over in her bed and pulled the blankets tighter around herself. She was such an idiot. Each time he'd been at training, she'd made sure to ask him for help, just to be closer to him, but maybe he thought she was pathetic now, that she couldn't do anything. Not that she was perfect, but she probably didn't need one-on-one training for swordplay and hand to hand combat, archery yes, but that had been the first time she'd ever shot a bow. Although if he was away much longer, Mor would have had time to teach her all she needed to stop personal tuition.

Was she so wrong for wanting to spend time with him? He'd seen her at her worst, her absolute worst, and he hadn't flinched, he'd just protected her when she couldn't protect herself. She still remembered the undiluted rage in his eyes when he'd killed the males pinning her down, still remembered the gentleness of his touch when he'd given her his cloak. Perhaps he still thought of her as that scared girl, perhaps all her asking for help was annoying, but how could she find another way to spend any sort of time with him?

*****

Azriel hated Windhaven. He hated Devlon. But mostly, he hated his own cowardice. Gwyn had found him that night because she was meant to, but he had been too slow, he had allowed her to think he didn't want her there. And then he had run away, faking an emergency. He struck the target again, and it splintered under the force of the blow, the sword cleaving straight through the wood, earning alarmed glances from the males around him. It was true that the camps needed inspection, but that could easily wait until Cassian got home, it wasn't urgent enough that he should have made Mor take over training the priestesses. He rotated his wrist, striking the second target with a backhanded blow that almost cleaved it in two.

For hours he worked through his thoughts, leaving far too many training targets in splinters, much to Devlon's dismay, who glared at him when he walked off the pitch. Azriel ignored him, heading straight for Rhysand's mother's old house. He fell into his old routines, dumping his weapons in the rack by the door, checking the house for any unwelcome visitors before a bath. He even left out a bowl of stew on the side for the female who had taken him in when no one else had, muttering the familiar prayer to keep her soul, and her daughter's soul safe in the afterworld. He should get back to Velaris, but even once he had tidied up the kitchen, even once he had cleaned the entire house, by hand, twice, he couldn't force himself to go outside.

He didn't get out of bed the next morning, only emerging at noon when someone pounded on the door. He dressed, and glared daggers at Devlon, standing on the doorstep like he owned the house.

"What?" he snarled,

"I assume you're here for a reason,"

"What's it to you?"

"This is my camp. I don't appreciate spies. The other bastard 'inspecting' is bad enough without you sniffing around as well. Tell Rhysand-"

"High Lord."

"What?"

"Tell High Lord  Rhysand,"

"Whatever, tell him that if you two don't leave me be-"

"What? What will you do? And besides, I'm inspecting the camp, while Cassian is with his mate."

"Poor girl," Devlon muttered, and Azriel's attention snapped straight back to him, anger burning in his eyes,

"What?"

"I said, poor girl, whoever she is, to be mated to that sorry bastard." Something snapped, and Azriel sent a fist flying for Devlon's face, the sense of satisfaction when the camp lord's nose crumpled under his fist dragging him out of his wallowing.

"Do not talk about my brother in that way. Do I make myself clear?" Devlon just glared, and cradled his nose, "Do I?"

"Yes." Azriel snarled again, "I said yes, Spymaster."

"There, how hard was that? If I hear you talking shit about your General again, I won't be so forgiving." Azriel slammed the door in Devlon's face and packed up his kit, he'd finished the inspection yesterday anyway, and winnowed home.

The library loomed before him, but Azriel banked away, aiming for the House of Wind. He left everything in his room before reluctantly flying across the city to the River House. Rhys had said that there would be a family dinner if he was back, and he didn't want to upset him but not showing up.

*****

The shadows in her room flickered, and Gwyn leapt out of bed, almost screaming as they moved towards her. Not like the ones that followed Azriel, these moved maliciously, following her when she darted out of the room. She grabbed the dagger from her training leathers, and tested to see if she could fight them, she couldn't, and the moment she touched one, it spread, trying to wrap around her.

She backed out of the room, grabbing a candle as she passed, which did seem to keep the darkness at bay, but it slowly tested the light, as if trying to see if it could actually stop it. Gwyn  found her way into the main library, finding the whole place wreathed in the darkness from its depths, and the moment she stepped out, all of it shot for her, making a beeline for the candle she held. No one else had woken, and she opened her mouth to scream, but darkness surrounded her, blocking out the sound. She scrambled backwards, sprinting for the light above her head, the moon shone bright, perhaps the shadows were confined to library, if she could just get out, she would be safe. She was mere steps from the door when the darkness clouded again, partially barring her way.

She took a deep breath, marking the exact location of the door handle and barreled through it, sobbing in fear until she burst through to the night outside. Cool air filled her lungs, but the darkness from the library didn't follow, she stared back at it, sobbing again in fear when a tendril of darkness ventured beyond the doorway. She didn't know where she could go, but she ran.

*****

Azriel forced a smile as Mor breezed over to him, glad to see him finally, and ushered him to the dining room. He grinned for real at the sight of Rhys on the couch, holding baby Nyx with one arm, the other wrapped around Feyre, asleep against him. His brother grinned at him when he entered the room,

"Finally decided to join us then, brother." Feyre stirred beside him, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, chuckling as she opened her eyes, squinting in the light, and buried her face back into his chest, "C'mon, darling, dinner." Feyre sighed, and disentangled herself from her mate's arms before joining Azriel at the table.

"Nyx keeping you up?" He asked, and Feyre groaned,

"He always demands a feed like half an hour after I've managed to fall asleep, then won't fall asleep for ages afterwards. And it's not like we can just take it in turns either, Rhys can't feed him, and he won't settle without it." Azriel squeezed her shoulder,

"You're doing a wonderful job, both of you, babies are tough, but he'll only get easier to cope with." Feyre grinned, and laughed as Rhys set Nyx on the table beside her, leaving him to crawl across to his mother, grabbing for her, sighing happily when she swept him into her arms. Amren rolled her eyes, but Azriel could sense the happiness in her at seeing the baby.

Partway through dinner, Nyx started crying and wouldn't settle, no matter what Feyre tried. She was on the brink of tears herself when Azriel sent a shadow towards the child, leaving him hiccuping and giggling as he tried to catch it, but each time it slipped between his fingers. He grabbed for it again, and Azriel sent it twirling around him, earning giggles of joy as he played with the shadow.

"Thank you," Azriel almost lost concentration at Rhys' voice, "She feels like a bad mother when he gets like this,"

"She's not," he said, still watching both mother and son playing with the shadow, Feyre encouraging Nyx to try to catch it, and laughing at his squeals of joy.

After dinner, Azriel made to take off, but something left him deciding to walk up to the House instead. Wandering through Velaris' silent streets, he finally let go of the fear around talking to Gwyn. He would make sure to talk to her at training tomorrow, make sure she knew he wasn't annoyed that she had been there that night.

*****

Gwyn sobbed again as the darkness almost surrounded her, nipping at her feet, trying to trip her up as she ran. She spied a figure through the darkness of the evening and sprinted for them, not caring who it was. The moment she got close enough to see it was a male, he turned towards her, and started to run for her, wings flapping to give him more speed. Wings?

"Azriel!" She sobbed, and crashed into him, shrinking back as he pushed her behind him, the darkness swirling and eddying but not approaching him any further. Shadows swirled around her, but these were safe, protecting, they were there to look after her, not hurt her. Tears slid down her face as Azriel studied the darkness, trying to figure out what it was. She crashed to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably when it vanished, leaving her alone in the street with Azriel staring after the darkness, clearly debating whether he should follow it and deciding against it, taking over from his shadows in looking after her.

"Gwyn," she barely heard him, but didn't flinch from his touch when he gently squeezed her shoulder, "I'm going to take you up to the House, is that okay?" She nodded, not sure she could speak without crying harder, and buried her face in his neck when he lifted her into his arms, holding her against his chest as he took off.

The view must have been magnificent, but she was still too scared to even marvel at the fact that she was flying. She was still crying when Azriel landed on the balcony and carried her into the House.

*****

Gwyn's scent was drenched in fear, and Azriel silently swore to end whoever had scared her, whoever had sent that darkness to hunt her, because that's exactly what it had been doing, hunting her. He had wanted to follow it, to find out where it had slunk off to, but with his shadows warning her that Gwyn needed to feel safe, he couldn't leave her, retribution could wait.

She was still crying when he set her down on a couch in one of the living areas.

"What happened?" He murmured, gently brushing her hair out of her face,

"I don't know," she whispered, "I was getting ready for bed, and it just - I don't know,"

"Hey, it's okay, you're safe now, it can't get you here," she nodded, and sniffed again, and he became painfully aware that she was only in her nightgown, and he grabbed a blanket to wrap around her, leaving his shadows to watch over her while he went to fetch her a hot mug of cocoa.

His anger had subsided a little once he returned, just enough that he could fully focus on looking after Gwyn. Her feet were still bare, and the rough stones of the street had torn into them, but she seemed to hardly notice the pain as he cleaned the cuts, and gently wrapped them in bandages. She hadn't said a word since his return, just silently nursed her mug of cocoa, staring into the distance.

Not knowing what else to do, he sank onto the couch beside her and squeezed her hand gently. She drained the mug, and fixed him with her gaze, tears still shining in her eyes,

"What was it?"

"I don't know." He admitted, "But I'll find out, and I'll deal with it. It can't hurt you, I won't let it." She nodded, and another tear rolled down her face, Azriel reached up to wipe it away, expecting her to flinch from him, but she didn't, she let him gently wipe away the tears stating to fall again.

"It scared me. I couldn't fight it. I did try."

"I know, I know," she thought he'd think less of her for whatever had happened, and he couldn't face that, "Gwyn," she didn't look at him, her head still lowered to hide the fear in her eyes, even as her scent betrayed her, "Gwyn." She did look up this time, "You are not weak. You are stronger than most people I know for even trying to fight that. I know many seasoned warriors who would've pissed themselves and gotten themselves hurt or killed. You did everything right. Running was your only option."

"Why did it run from you?"

"I don't know," he said again, "Maybe it feared my own shadows," the same shadows that were now gathering around Gwyn, trying to shield her from everything, twining into her hair, and making her smile from the tickling sensation. "There, do that again."

"What?"

"Smile." She did, and he mirrored the smile, his breath catching when she pulled herself into his side, resting her head on his chest, an arm around his waist. He rested an arm across her shoulders, and allowed a wing to curl around her. She sighed,

"Thank you, Az."

"Whatever for?"

"Not thinking me a coward." She wasn't talking about tonight, he realized,

"I was the coward for not going to you earlier. I'm glad you were there, and I'm sorry I ran away the next day." She mumbled something he couldn't hear, and snuggled into him, the fear in her scent slowly vanishing with each breath. They sat in silence, and Azriel started to absent-mindedly stroke her hair, soothing her gently as he held her. "Do you want me to take you back to the library?"

"No!" she gasped, "Please," she was still shaking her head violently, when he caught her hand,

"It's okay, you can stay here if you want, Nesta's old rooms are still empty. Mine are the level above."

"Can I stay with you?" She whispered, and he froze, "I'm sorry, I just -  I feel safe with you."

"Okay, there's a set of rooms across the corridor from mine that haven't been used in a while." He silently asked the House to get them ready for her, and a warm breeze brushing through his hair told him that his request had been carried out.

*****

Gwyn still held the blanket Azriel had given her as he carried her up to the room she was to sleep in. He set her down on the bed, and offered her another smile, which she returned, before slipping out of the room. Almost immediately, the darkness in the room seemed to creep in on her, and she clutched the blanket tighter. She was being silly, Azriel would never have left her if there was any danger, but she still wished he was there, even the two doors between them were too much.

Despite the darkness, she managed to fall into a fitful sleep, tossing and turning on the bed, until she woke only an hour later, drenched in sweat, and screamed. Moments later Azriel threw the door open, and ran across to her, dropping to his knees next to the bed,

"Are you hurt?"

"No, it was just a bad dream. Just a dream." She repeated, her fear fading as she remembered where she was, who was protecting her. "I'm okay."

"You sure?" He brushed her hair back, out of her face, and she nodded, trying to settle back down.

"Can you stay?" He paused, and she almost let him leave, but she couldn't, "I just - it's dark. I'd feel safer with you here."

"Of course, if that's what you want." he said, pulling a comfy chair across to rest next to the bed, sinking into it, even as he kept a hold of her hand while she drifted back to sleep.

*****

When Gwyn woke the next morning, Azriel was still in the chair, wings drooping onto the floor beside him, his head dropped sideways onto the back of the chair. His hair was all over the place, and she couldn't help but tidy it up, freezing when he opened his eyes.

"Your hair was messy," she said as an explanation.

"My mother used to do that," he murmured, more to himself that her, and she met his gaze, her hands still in his hair,

"Is she who you were singing about the other night?"

"Yes. That was the only lullaby anyone ever sang for me. Your voice, it was like the song was written for you to sing it."

"I was only copying you," she admitted, and squeezed his hands, and he smiled,

"Let's get some breakfast."

Part 3

[fallout-drabbles-n-stuff]

“There is no me without a you.” (Paladin Danse x Reader)

(Au! Where Danse doesn’t read rivet city and the reader is a friend of his and Cutler’s. Also I guess the reader technically isn’t sole..so enjoy! It’s an idea I had brewing for a long time.)

The thought made your stomach turn. That was putting it lightly.

For years it had been just you, Cutler, and his weirdo buddy- Danse. You were family, the only one you’ve known or at least cared to consider as such. So many nights had passed where your friends laughter was the only thing that kept you willing to face the next day, both of their grins forever imprinted in your mind and usually serving as the only things you could trust in the life you led.

It was rough. You had came to the shelter of Rivet City seeking to make a fortune as a merchant, having left home and everything you once knew to do so. The first couple of weeks hadn’t been easy, you had barely even gotten by but..then, by some miracle, some flame-haired man with a seemingly permanent smug grin came strolling up to your stand, a tall- handsome fella with dark hair close behind him. That fucker that interrupted your business introduced himself and his bashful friend, Cutler and Danse were their names...and of course, you started the beautiful relationship off by asking them just where the hell they came up with such “crap-tastic” names. Indeed, it was the start of a beautiful friendship.

It was the recollection of memories such as these that made tears blur your vision, each step you took forward feeling more labored than the one before. Days ago those same goofy men you met all those years ago, the ones you’ve grown to love so much, had said they were going off to join some crazy ass organization in the capital- begging you to come along as well.

As much as you adored your friends, neither of them were all that bright. At least not if they couldn’t see just how dangerous this thing they wanted to run off and join was. You had an uncanny gift of being able to see when something was a catastrophically bad idea, and this was certainly one of them.

Shaking your head, you did the best you could to blink away the built up tears- having realized that you were at your desired location.

Danse’s rickety shack.

The poor man really needed to brush up on his building skills.

At least that made you laugh, even if it was choked up and sounded more pitiful than anything. Regardless, you carefully knocked on the door- unaware of where to begin. All you knew was that your time was limited to figure it out, the much expected rattling of metal being able to be heard from the other side within seconds, signaling that Danse was both indeed home and also on his way to answer the door.

Fuck.

Much too soon, the door opened up and revealed the man you once ridiculed for his unfortunate name. His stoic, yet lovely amber eyes softening as soon as they fixated upon your familiar form. Damn, he was such a sight to behold. Even wearing a red flannel with the sleeves rolled up and some ripped jeans, he was undeniably attractive. The acknowledgment of this fact made your heart skip a beat, your breath hitching in your throat as your eyes met his own.

Over the years you’ve known him, danse and yourself had became close- very close. You grew as people together, spent a couple nights out alone while Cutler reaped the spoils of being able to trick some person from the bar into bed with him, and even danced around the line of becoming a little more than friends every once in a while.

“(Y/n)..? What’s going on? Is something amiss? Nevermind that, please, come inside.” That deep, raspy voice tore you away from the invasive thoughts you were so deeply enthralled with. With a graceful like motion, the bulky man stepped to the side and allowed you to enter the his humble little home.

Of course you obliged, your knees growing week as you bumbled to his beaten up couch- sinking down into it’s plush as soon as you sat. However you weren’t alone long, Danse quickly following you, having no problem with sitting right beside you.

Funny, years ago when you first met, he barely seemed to be able to talk without Cutler doing the legwork of the conversation.

Now here he was, his arm resting on the back of the couch right behind your hunched over body. Practically beckoning you to just say “screw it” and cuddle right up into his side, hell, the man practically radiated warmth so there was very little holding you back at the moment. There were more important things to tend to now...

Steadying yourself, you tried your very best to put on a strong face. Straightening your back and giving him the “serious” look, or as Cutler called it, your “bitch face.” Whatever the look would be called, you just hoped he couldn’t see right through you. Because as it stood now, anxiety courses through your veins like a terrible icy brook- threatening to steal your spirit itself and make you retreat and forgo this plan of your’s.

For just a moment, it almost won. Your gaze shifted over to Danse’s coffee table, taking notice of the disassembled pistol that laid upon the horribly scratched wooden surface. Heh, he might’ve been a terrible architect but Danse sure as hell could modify guns. It was cute really, how invested he’d become in something so complex. Sometimes you’d come over in need of a friend and he’d keep you company by explaining how to modify a 10mm pistol’s barrel, all while doing so.

Your eyes fell close now, a hollowness in your chest. It was time. It was now or never. Later wouldn’t exist, especially since you refused to run off and join the brotherhood.

“D..danse..?” Your voice stammered out in a way that you despised, sounding so scared..like you truly were. That in its self was enough to make the relaxed look on danse’s face morph into one of concern, his weight shifting as he leaned more towards you.

Did he feel it too? Did he also want to embrace you as badly as you wanted to embrace him?

After a moment of waiting, he audibly gulped. Your obvious distress filled the poor man with worry, he..he didn’t like seeing you feel this way. “Yes?” Now even his own voice was demure as it urged you to continue.

The muscles in your legs clenched in response, adrenaline beginning to run its course.

Why was this so hard? All you had to do wa-

“I can’t stand it Danse.” Real Nice. Real good start. God you hated yourself already. “You two..you two asshats want to go play soldier and I can’t stand it..” oh yeah, only getting better, but the words just wouldn’t stop coming..and the affects of them wouldn’t heel either. “You-you’re Just going to leave me..and I..I get it because you want to find purpose b-but..”

Now you truly felt foolish, your face contorted and the anguish you felt deep inside made itself blatantly apparent by your expression. As though that wasn’t enough, those tears you thought were gone away came back with a vengeance. The longer you looked at the now confused man, the more your chest hurt and the more obvious the feeling a hot tears rolling down your cheeks became.

Everything just hit you all at once and it wasn’t fair. How could they just decide to leave what you all had together? Was it not good enough? Was it not what their purpose was? Better yet, how could he leave you like this? How was it right for him to swoop in one day, make you feel something and fall for the bastard, only to one day down the road decide that no, this isn’t what he wants? How was any of this fair?

“I..I um, I didn’t realize how much this affected you..” Danse’s shaky voice replied, his hands cautiously reaching out to pull you towards him. Countless times before when he felt emotional distress, you had grabbed him, embraced him without second thought and each time you did it, it crazily enough brought some degree of comfort to him. “I apologize but I’m not the-..oh (y/n)..” His chest heart seeing you cry.

In a way, as it stands now, you’re not the only one in need of a hug anyways- so as he pulled you close to him, the relief was felt on both ends.

For you, he’d try anything to help ease the sorrow you felt. However it was no secret Danse was absolutely terrible at these kinds of things, any extreme display of emotion generally made him uncomfortable..but seeing you like this? It made him feel a deep, sorrowful pain in his chest. Why? He didn’t entirely know the answer, at least not a straightforward and simple answer at that. You somehow always managed to elicit such passionate emotions in him, ones that he hardly understood- after all he was not by any means an overly emotional man.

As sobs wracked your body, he couldn’t help but feel the compulsion to shed a tear as well in response to your pain. A pain that he knew that ultimately, he caused. That hurt. That hurt really bad. Before he could even process what it exactly was he felt, a single tear slid down his cheek as well, his arms tightening and squeezing you the slightest bit in search for the comfort your embrace usually brought.

Time slowed down in an almost ethereal manner suddenly, all that pain you felt facing reality slowly began to subdue to a throbbing ache in your chest- sobs transforming to soft sniffles and a vivid embrasser blush as you hid your face in his form chest- his scent providing a minimal amount of comfort despite reminding you of how much of an idiot you probably seemed like.

Now there really wasn’t anything to say...except what you came to say anyways. Well..it was somewhat of a sad win/win situation. If you confess to your more than platonic feelings for the brooding man, he could either return the feeling and maybe, just maybe you could convince him to stay....or he doesn’t and then at least you won’t have to live with the shame of ruining your friendship for long seeing as he’d be leaving with Cutler soon.

Feeling as though your whole world was on the brink of shattering right before your eyes, you withdrew from the man- not daring to go back enough to break away from the comfort of his arms around you, instead only enough so that you could get a proper look at his dumbfounded- almost heartbroken looking face.

“Please..Danse, don’t..don’t leave me. I can’t take it. You- you mean the world to me..” your voice was barely over a whisper but you knew he heard you loud and clear, his eyebrows scrunching into a slanted, concerned look as guilt flashed in those beautiful puppy dog like eyes.

He cleared his throat, carefully contemplating his next words as he licked his lips- his eyes unconsciously gazing down to look at your own as he did so. “I’m sorry (y/n), I..I didn’t think I’d hurt you so badly..I should’ve been more considering..” for a second he paused, the next words sounding painful to even utter. “Especially considering how close of...friends..we are.”

That’s it. That’s fucking it.

Without better sense, you leaned forward right after his words- knowing words would get you nowhere with him. Actions. Actions worked. As such, you willed yourself not to scream as you finally connected your lips with his own- the very thing you’ve wanted to do since he first lowered his walls and let you get to know him all those years ago.

A muffled groan of surprise could be heard but you didn’t care, he wasn’t trying to push you off yet..so that was good. In fact, unbeknownst to yourself, Danse’s eyes fluttered closed as soon as the shock of the situation subsided and suddenly he found himself pressing back and trying his very best to let you know he returned the affection before it was too late.

Damn, he’s wanted to do that since he first laid eyes on you at your stand. How crazy..

As the kiss deepened, Danse could feel his heart pounding in his chest, all the feelings hitting him like a charging raider in power armour. Regardless of how confused he was, he couldn’t help but follow his instincts- which landed him laying back on his raggedy old couch with you laid lazily on top of his body, his legs on either side of your hips. For it being an entirely innocent moment, it surely was a provocative position and had he been in his right mind- he likely would’ve flipped out and had a heart attack.

Eventually you had to end the fantastical moment, the need to breath becoming too great to deny any longer. So, with a viciously bright red blush and pure terror in your eyes despite your watery grin, you gazed down upon him.

“A..actually, that’s what I wanted to..to um talk to you about.” It was about now, as you panted, you realized just how you were sitting. “Danse, I want to be something more than just your..your friend.”

The very second he processed what you said, his thick eyebrows practically ascended half his forehead, his jaw dropped and his eyes became the size of saucers.

Boy, his expressions never ceased to amuse you. Even now when shame should’ve been consuming you, he made you giggle.

“Are you...are you saying that you’re in love with me?” He asked in pure disbelief, his hands courageously settling upon your hips to rest despite his sudden urge to fidget and twitch his fingers. Nerves making his stomach tighten painfully even though you just plainly made your intentions clear.

“Yes Danse, I’m in love with you..you fucker, I wouldn’t act so crazy if I wasn’t..”

Once again, words usually didn’t suffice with Danse..so, you leaned in for another kiss. This time he was prepared and he sure as hell wasnt going to disappoint.

He loves you too, you truly are crazy if you think he’ll ever leave you now.

Who knows, maybe one day you and Danse will get to live the happily ever after. Run a decent stand, Get hitched, maybe even have a couple babies way down the road and be the parents you both wished you could’ve had. Cutler, that bastard, was just going to have to stay too if he liked it or not.

Besides...what fun would it be to be whatever the hell a Brotherhood of Steel soldier is? Pfft, what even is a Paladin?

[novelistics]

Break My Heart - Part l

I was seven years old when I fell in love with Hunter Nathaniel James. He was four years older than me and best friends with my brother Carter.

But that didn’t matter to me. I never thought of him as too old back then. Never thought of him as off limits.

When I fell off my bike while racing down the street after my brothers, it was Hunter who circled back to help me. Hunter who took me inside, helped me clean the bits of gravel out of my knee.

Then dabbed it with hydrogen peroxide. Hunter who turned my tears into laughter by telling me about Carter’s inability to speak every time he saw his crush in class.

I decided right then that I was going to marry Hunter. Because I was seven and didn’t understand the realities of romantic love. Because Hunter hadn’t yet become the Hunter James.

Because I hadn’t hit puberty and become chubby Alyssa Williams. Because I still believed in fairytales, I believed I would marry this boy with the dark brown hair and dark green eyes.

It was my secret. One I vowed to keep to myself until the time was right. Hunter didn’t know my plans.

And I had no idea he’d break my heart.

-

April 27th, draft night, thirteen years ago

"Lyss!” Hunter lifts a shot glass in the air and wriggles it in offering. “Tequila? What do you say?”

Carter spins on him and frowns. “Don’t give my little sister alcohol.”

Hunters says, but his mischievous eyes are on me as he does, “I always forget she’s so young.”

The tequila must be going to his head, because there’s no other explanation for the way he’s looking at me. His eyes drop to my mouth, and warmth spreads through me.

If I didn’t know better, I might think that... No! That doesn’t make sense. This is Hunter. My friend now, sure, but he is everything.

Girls everywhere are crazy about him, a football star on the brink of NFL fame, he could have any woman he wanted.

Carter grabs a beer and leaves the kitchen and pushes out the back door to join the party. And then it’s just me and Hunter. Alone with a bottle of tequila and the full shot glass that’s still in his hand.

He flashes a glance over his shoulder toward the back door. “Does Carter have any idea that you’re not a little girl anymore?” he asks, closing the distance between us.

I bite my bottom lip. My skin flushes hot when he’s this close, and I swear he’s looking at my lips again. Do I have something on my face?

Spaghetti sauce from dinner or something? I discreetly wipe my mouth with the cuff of my sweatshirt or as discreetly as I can when he’s so close.

Hunter grins, as if he knows he’s making me uncomfortable and likes it. “Have you ever done this before?”

A thousand possibilities fly through my mind at that question most of them involving the hands and mouth of the man asking. “Done what?”

He lifts the shot glass and sniffs the tequila. “A snakebite. Salt, tequila, lime.”

I shrug. I’ve had alcohol before. My family isn’t exactly puritanical when it comes to alcohol. But I’ve never done a shot, and certainly never a snakebite. Whatever that is. “How do you do it?”

Grinning, he hands me the shot glass then grabs the salt shaker from the counter. He lifts my free hand to his mouth and licks the inside of my wrist.

My breath whooshes out of me at the sensation of his hot tongue on my skin. I want to close my eyes, but he’s watching me, and I’m afraid he’ll laugh if he has any idea what affect he has on me.

Grinning, he sprinkles salt on the wet patch of skin before putting the shaker down and grabbing a wedge of lime from the counter behind me. “Lick the salt. Take the shot. Suck on the lime.”

“Lick, shoot, suck.” I nod. “I can do that.”

His nostrils flare and his pupils dilate, turning those dark green eyes. “I think I’d like to see you try.”

I swallow hard. Is Hunter coming on to me? I don’t want to be the idiot who believes that could be true.

I don’t want to be the dumb chubby girl who fell for the practical joke because she believed a guy like Hunter could be attracted to her.

I don’t know how long I stand there trying to decide, but my skin tingles where he licked, and my mouth has gone dry.

“Want me to go first?” he asks, his voice a little husky.

I nod.

He takes my wrist and brings it to his mouth, licking off the salt. Shocks of pleasure roll down my spine and settle into a riot of butterflies in my stomach.

He doesn’t even take the shot glass from me, just wraps his hand around mine and leads the glass to his mouth so he can shoot it back.

Then he pops the lime in his mouth and makes a goofy face at me as he sucks the juice.

“Got it?” he asks, still squinting from the sourness.

“I think I can do that.”

He refills the tequila then looks over his shoulder again.

“Why are you so worried about Carter seeing?” I ask. “He knows I’ve had alcohol before. He’s just being a prude about the shot.”

“I don’t want him pissed at me,” he says, shrugging. “God knows he did worse than take a couple of shots when he was sixteen, but-”

“I’m seventeen. Eighteen in a few months.”

He slowly turns his attention away from the back door and back to me. His eyes are so intense on mine.

But it’s a good kind of intensity. Like he sees me. Has anyone ever looked at me before? Really looked?

"What?"

"Nothing." He lets out a puff of air and shakes his head then mumbles what he didn't think I heard. “Then Carter really would kill me.”

I laugh. “You’re ridiculous you know that.”

“What? Why do you say that?”

“You just got drafted into the NFL, and you’re acting like you’re attracted to me.”

His gaze skims over me, from my hair all the way down to my bare feet and the bright pink polish on my toes. “What does one have to do with the other?”

I don’t understand what’s happening here. Am I dreaming? Has he had more to drink than I realized? 

I throw the shot back before I can lose my nerve, totally forgetting the salt.

I shudder. “That’s awful!”

He laughs. “You did it wrong. Are you always this terrible with directions?”

Only when you’re here. Only when you’re looking at me like this and making me think I can have things I can’t.

But as awful as the taste was, warmth blooms in my chest. It’s more intense than the effects of the glass of wine I drank with Easter dinner, and I do like that.

“Now I risk getting you drunk if I make you do it the right way.”

“I’m not drunk.” I shake my head. “I don’t feel anything.”

He grunts. “Give it a minute.” He steps around me and stands at the counter, pouring himself another shot. I guess he’s not going to drink it from my glass this time. It’s dumb to be disappointed.

He doesn’t bother with the salt or lime, just throws it back. Doesn’t even grimace. Then he braces his arms on the counter and hangs his head.

I’d have to be emotionally stunted not to feel the change in his mood. He just went from playful flirt to morose jock in the span of a blink. “What’s wrong?”

He shrugs. “Nothing.”

“Liar.”

He drags a hand through his hair and finally turns to me. He leans back against the counter. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Of course.”

He hesitates a beat, and I see the emotions playing across his face, he’s trying to decide if he can trust me with this, or if he even wants to own up to whatever it is.

“I never told anyone when I caught you with that dirty magazine when you were thirteen.”

His eyes widen and he grins. “Oh, I’d completely forgotten about that. Jesus.” He scrubs a hand over his face. “Okay, fair enough. That kind of discretion so young is definitely meaningful.”

“Meaningful? Are you kidding me? That’s preteen blackmail gold, and I never used it. Not even when you wouldn’t dump that girl you took to senior prom.”

His forehead wrinkles, and I can tell he’s trying to remember his date.

“Hilary,” I remind him.

“I didn’t know you wanted me to dump her.”

“I didn’t realize I needed to spell it out for you. I told you you deserved better.”

“Honestly, I was eighteen, and she was hot and willing. I probably didn’t care .”

“She called me a fat tagalong.”

“What?” The tops of his ears turn pink, a tell I learned long ago means he’s angry. “You never told me that.”

I shrug. When Hunter was with Hilary, I was fourteen. I’d foolishly believed that he wouldn’t notice I was fat if no one ever told him.

Not the dumbest thing I’ve let myself believe in the name of loving him, but not a delusion I’m particularly proud of either.

“You’re not fat,” he says.

I fold my arms and arch a brow. “Come on, Hunter. I might be naive and shamefully inexperienced for a girl my age, but my eyes work just fine.”

He holds up a finger. “One, so do mine, and you’re not fat. You’re not skinny. You have a nice body.”

A nice body. The words are both the balm and the blade. On the one hand, I’m intelligent and rational enough to know I should be glad he thinks of my body in better terms than I do.

Intellectually, I know nice is as good as it’s going to get for a girl like me. On the other hand, part of me wanted to believe I saw heat in his eyes earlier.

As irrational as it is, I want to believe he might think I’m beautiful, even while I know I’d never believe it if he used those words.

Emotions are dumb.

He holds up another finger. “And two, I’m going to need you to tell me what you mean by shamefully inexperienced.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Please?”

My face is on fire. Why did I say that? I would be fine if no one ever knew the extent of my innocence, but Hunter is the last person I want to admit it to. “Forget I said anything.”

He steps closer. “I’ll tell you my secret if you tell me yours.”

“You go first,” I blurt. Because who am I kidding? Anyone who had to guess would know I’ve never kissed anyone. It’s not like I’ve ever had a boyfriend.

His eyes soften and something like pain flashes over his features for a beat. “I wish the Demons hadn’t drafted me.”

I don’t know what I expected him to say, but that came out of left field. Hunter's dreamed of the NFL his whole life, and tonight we’re celebrating him being selected in the first freaking round of the draft.

Now he’s telling me that achieving this lifelong dream is what has him down. “Why’d you enter the draft if you didn’t want to be picked up? Carter said you could’ve waited until next year and finished school.”

“I wanted to be drafted. I suck at school and I . . .” He chews on the inside of his cheek. “I wanted to be drafted, but I was hoping Chicago or Detroit would draft me. I’m scared to move so far from home. Which I realize is dumb, but . . .”

“It’s not dumb.” Hunter had his pick of colleges, and he went to Starling College in Grand Rapids. They have a good football team.

But he could have gone to Florida or LSU teams whose football programs are practically NFL breeding grounds.

I figured it was because he wanted to stay close to home, but it never occurred to me that those preferences would hold true three years later.

Only, this time the choice is out of his hands. “You can visit, though, right? A contract that big means you can fly home as often as you want.”

His gaze locks on his feet. “Right. Of course. It’s stupid, I know.”

“It’s really not.”

“Don’t tell anyone. I don’t want to come across like the ungrateful rookie or like I’m too immature to handle the move.”

“I promise.” I squeeze his wrist, but I’m suddenly all too aware of the fact that I’m touching him. His skin is warm under my fingertips.

I can feel his strength and the power of his big hands. How many times have I imagined those hands on me?

I jerk away, but he grabs my hand before I can get far.

“It’s your turn,” he says, threading his fingers through mine. What is he doing? “Why do you think you’re shamefully inexperienced, Lyss? Your friends aren’t pressuring you to have sex, are they?”

Sex. Oh my God. He thought I meant sex. Now my dumb secret feels even more mortifying, but he’s still holding my hand, and even as embarrassment warms my cheeks, I don’t want him to let go. “No one’s pressuring me.”

The back door clangs closed as Carter pushes into the kitchen. Hunter jumps back and drops my hand.

“What are you two talking about in here?” my brother asks. He crosses the kitchen between us and opens the fridge. “Don’t you know the party’s outside?”

Hunter's throat bobs and he tucks his hands in his pockets. “We’re just catching up.”

Carter pulls out another beer and uses the opener on the wall to pull off the cap. “Well, I hope you’re finished, because people are starting to wonder if you already moved to L.A. or something.”

“Relax, Carter,” I tell him. “The night is young.”

He frowns as he looks back and forth between me and Hunter. “I don’t like you two being alone in here together.”

I snort and for the millionth time in my life wonder what it would be like to not have five overly protective brothers. “Why not?”

Carter stares at Hunter for a long beat. Hunter gives a subtle shake of his head and Carter sighs. “Because you’re my little sister, and this punk breaks hearts in his sleep.”

“My heart is fine.” Liar, liar. Does Carter know how I feel about Hunter? I’ve never told anyone. “We’re just talking.”

Carter taps Hunter's arm with the neck of his beer. “You. Outside. We’re celebrating your news, after all. And anyway, that redhead Tri-Delt showed up and is looking for you.”

Hunter heads toward the back with my brother. “Why didn’t you say so sooner?” He opens the door and turns back to wink at me before heading toward the lakeside bonfire with my brother.

I guess Hunter doesn’t want to know my secret after all. I dodged a bullet.

So why do I feel so disappointed?

Part Two. Coming soon...

[stareiiez]

Flower Petals and Blood

𝐿𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝐶𝘩𝑢𝑟𝑐𝘩 𝑥 𝐹𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

Chapter 6

Word Count: 3.4k

𝑨/𝑵:  HI! Hello, yes, it's me. I have updated with an even longer chapter for this ongoing series that you guys have really seemed to enjoy :D I’m happy for the support and love I’ve gotten!

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: Graphic description of choking, perhaps vomit.  Nothing too extreme for n o w, just good ole choking on some flowers. 

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 "What's your deal?" You complained, your feet were trying to plant on the metal flooring of the base and then on the ground when you were dragged outside the base.

Your voice was high pitched and annoyed, as you if you had every right to be a bit whiny towards another soldier. The black-armored clad female had dragged you from your doorway, leaving behind Tucker to talk to you in private. The sun beat down on to your bear head and already sweat was working its way to dampen the back of your neck and back itself. It seemed to only get hotter in Blood Gulch around 'summertime', you had a way of telling when the 'seasons' changed due to the slight difference in this area.

"Whatever you could have said, you couldn't have said in front of your other teammate." You bit out, as the grip on your wrist grew tighter. Oh right, you forgot to mention how she had held you by the arm like a child who was in trouble, then dragged you away. She should have just grabbed you by the ear and scolded you just to further add on to your embarrassment.

"This isn't about him, this is far from him. Who you do on your own time in none of my concern. He's not even my teammate, to begin with in the first place, I'm just hired to be here to replace Church's death." Tex stated, her hand had pulled you harshly forward as the two of you wandered behind the back of the Blue base.

How quick she practically threw you ahead of her had your head spin slightly as you fought to gain your balance against the quick moment of momentum. Was a conversation that serious that she had to be that bitch to pull you away from- .. from. Well, what did she step in on back there? Were you going to do something with Tucker? You couldn't even remember, the moment he set his hands on you. Your body burst into flames of heat and some tingly feeling that left your mind dazed beyond compare. You were on fire and he added more gasoline to the bonfire that screamed in your chest. He burned the bright petals away and let you live. Maybe you were just pent up and Tucker was your only scapegoat. Did you like him? Maybe. He was good-looking, funny when he wasn't talking about his dick, and caring. He worried over your condition and in that one spare intimate moment, you could feel the ache in your lungs. He made you feel, normal. Tucker made you feel something other than pain and for one painstakingly moment as the world around you spun. Maybe he was something you needed in your life.

"Something is off about you," Texas spoke once you gained your bearings, her voice brought on that itchy feeling to your chest. Her voice was nails on a chalkboard and that yanked you out of your glazed over attention.

‘Gee Tex, as if puking up petals wasn't off enough. What do you want? A fucking billboard so you can see it easier instead of looking down at me from your god damn high horse named Church?' You thought to yourself.

Acid burned in your throat as you bit down on your tongue. You swallowed the sharp acidic tang that tried to push its way past your teeth in word vomit or actual vomit. Your breath left in a quick rush of air once your gazed turned to cast the female an actual agent of the nearly forgotten Project; and you. You were just someone that knew everything about the agents, everything the Project stood for. You could spill your guts to the public, to cover what the media didn't when the Director went into hiding. You didn't hate Project Freelancer, no you loved the stories that you heard about them. You loved and looked up to the war criminals as if they were Earth's do-gooders who saw no wrong and weren't manipulated into thinking they were better than anyone. Captain Flowers even told you of his past, of him faking his death to get into this particular simulation group under a new persona. He was dedicated enough to sell his soul for Project Freelancer, and by god did that organization let him down coldly.

He was crazy. his sanity gone and down the drain, the Project fell. He was all smiles and sadistic chuckles when everyone he ever knew or cared for was shown up as MIA or KIA. His sanity was gone and switched out for episodes that he was either way too friendly that it was uncomfortable, or for others that were a bit too bloodthirsty for a canyon group of idiots. He wasn't Agent Florida, he was some other man that filled that husk and took his job with the biggest grain of salt in the salt shaker.

You just hated her. Hate was a strong word, but she was just another manipulation that was conned by the Director. She didn't have to come back, she didn't have to be here and have Church wrapped around her pink finger, but she did. Church was hardwired to chase after her, he was destined to live out the Director's love through another robotic AI copy of her. You were just here on the sidelines to watch it play out and choke to death on some fucking made-up disease. Why do you need to be the one to tell her your whole fucked up one-sided love triangle fiasco when it's obvious she is here to just intimidate her.

Like some twisted female Alpha, she wants to make sure you don't fuck with what's hers. If it's possible to give hickies and blow an AI you'd gladly track Church down and make it happen as long as she sees it. The itchy feeling bloomed slowly back in your chest, your breath stuttered just slightly in your lungs. It was starting to hurt, the itchy feeling was moving upwards, like vines of a rose garden and twinning themselves through your organs. It's sharp thorns digging into flesh and tissues.

"Well?" Tex states, her arms have crossed over her onyx chest plate. Her head tilted to assess your unarmored form, and you swear she's grinning under the visor.

"It's just a head cold." You gritted out, the lie slipped through by the skin of your teeth, the truth was biting and burning on your tongue. The acidic taste rolled on your tongue, and it was harder to swallow this time around.

There was a scoff, from the other. Texas stared at you, her gold emotionless visor was staring you down. It was like she could see past the wavering lie you had hastily said to force her to be on her way. The silence growing between you two was nothing but uneasy, and your mouth burned with the sensation to double over and puke. You wouldn't mind spilling your guts, literally, on her polished black boots before you even amused her further. You needed to throw up, petals or liquid you couldn't tell this time around, whatever Texas was staring at, you wanted her to hurry up and move on. Your upper lip quivered as another beat of silence passed and she finally broke eye contact.

"I'll just go ask Church, you two seem to be.... way more comfortable for a teammate." One finger pointed accusingly at your face.

Your lips curled up at her words. "what's that supposed to mean?"

Tension sizzled, tightened, wound around your throat, and warmed your red blood cells that coursed through your veins as Tex didn't hesitate to reply.

"Church isn't smart, he's see-through." A snort escaped your mouth, one you couldn't help to not hold back. Yeah, no shit, he's see-through, he's not even a fucking real person.

With a glare you could feel penetrate through the golden, emotionless visor Tex continued. "He likes to hang around you, he's less of an-"

"Asshole?" You quipped.

"I was going to say absolute dumbass of a dick, but that works too if you want to be basic." She sighed, "Look, for some reason Church likes to hang around you. He rants, I hear him rambling and somehow cussing you out across the damn canyon. He's loud enough for even the dead to hear." *Ha, funny.*

"And this is supposed to make me blush?"

"I'm saying that whatever is going on between you, friends, you're screwing each other or whatnot. I'll find out what's happening with you, so watch your back." Bored with conversating over an Ex of hers, and whatever the hell kind of frequent one night stand hookup partner, The Bitch in Black sauntered away with the confidence that she was so sure of herself.

Once she had rounded around the base and was, hopefully, out of earshot, you wheezed hard. Lungs ached and trembled as a sharp pitched exhale left. Stabs of hot knives sliced at warm, soft, fleshy, sacs of skin that shrunk and grew behind your ribcage. The world blurred in watery colors, and small tears pricked and warmed your cheeks as they slipped down your skin. You didn't choke on petals, it felt fuller in your throat. The object bulged in your throat and tickled your trachea. Velvet petals, earthy tasting that made you gag and try to swallow whatever was temporarily blocking your air passage. You couldn't gag, couldn't possibly cough hard enough to even move the blockage more up to the back of your mouth. You were choking to death, and you were pretty sure you looked like an absolute mess or more while balancing in the brink of death.

With another choked gag, you fell to your knees on the dusty ground and then flung your whole body crashing down violently on the sun-baked ground in desperation. The sudden jarring and slam of your stomach on the floor, shoved the last few puffs of sweet oxygen and carbon dioxide gave the gentle shove of the object. Petals tickled your uvula, and you nearly clamped your mouth shut in repulsion. It wouldn't bug, no amount of even throwing up or coughing would make it move anymore. You'd have to shove your fingers down your throat to free your airflow yourself.

A trick, one stupid college tale your best friend told you before you shipped out for the military, was tucking your left thumb into your fist and squeeze. Strong, weak, or no gag reflex you couldn't give a damn. Not taking the chance to puke your guts out and more from just putting your fingers to the back of your throat was undesirable. Squeezing your eyes shut, your pointer and thumb of your right hand ventured into your mouth. Your lungs burned, and your body shook in rebellion from having another thing added to your mouth. It was easier to fully grab the petals that constantly brushed against your uvula, they didn't tear off as you slowly pulled whatever was choking you to death or unconsciousness. Your left thumb popped in the ever-tightening grip of your fist as you retracted your hand from your mouth and pulled whatever you were holding between your pointer finger and thumb.

Air, precious, hot, sweet, cold, burning, dry air rushed and skimmed down your throat as you finally inhaled. Your passageway was clear, and you could breathe properly. You still trembled and shook with small gentle coughs that came from your oxygen-deprived deflated lung sacs. Your eyes opened against the small tears that still flooded your pupils. With your hand now relaxed, it wiped your gaze clear and you finally turned to what was damp and hanging limply in your grasp.

Against the bright sunlight, you nearly let out a sharp gasp that stretched your already sore lungs to hurt even more. There color of periwinkle blue, with a bright golden center that was small and dusted with pollen. Pollen that dusted your lips and tasted like strong, musky Earth, and a sick, oddly sweet aftertaste inside your mouth. You couldn't tell the type of flower that was shining from the saliva that coated its once open spread petals. Thank god the single flower did not have a stem, it was just the head of the flower.

You never produced full flowers, let alone formed ones before. Small petals, large petals, oddly shaped or clumped together was what you had puked or coughed up for at least two or three days. Now your disease was progressing for the worst, and you weren't sure if your body could keep up. Eyes, wide as saucers you kept the soft flower in your fingers, too afraid to gently cradle it in your open palm. You had managed to push your weight up to your knees, then onto your feet slowly after a minute or two of gaining your strength.

Your feet carried you before you could even see where you were going. It's not like you needed to, you knew the ins and outs of this god damn canyon like the back of your hand. You mapped this desolate place since the first week you ever got stationed in the Blood Gulch Canyon. You were mindlessly walking fast, as fast as you could without tripping on the uneven ground. You were heading to Red Base, Doc could still be there. He didn't hang around Blue Base as much after Sarge claimed the purple medic as Red Team's own reluctantly. "Numbers over insubordination." was what Sarge always said, when he had begrudgingly allowed Doc to enter the Red Base that day of the exchange between Blue Team and Red Team. It was humiliating for Grif, and just sad for being desperate to get what Blue Team wanted the most.

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"Doc!" You nearly screamed as you stumbled into Red Team's Base, the flower still dangling and threatening to crumple in the tightening grip of your hand.

Your voice rang out and nearly caused Sarge to fire a warning shot near your head from the sudden panic that racked his body. He only had raised his shotgun at you, but how frail you looked and near on the edge of collapsing to the ground from exhaustion; he lowered his gun.

"What are you doing here? You Blue?" His gruff voice didn't stop as you merely cast the older man a brief look while venturing a little more into Red Base.

Sarge, Grif, and Simmons were all in the Base's kitchen. Random weapons were laid out and disassembled to be cleaned probably by Sarge and Simmons. Grif was scrounging around, opening cabinets and snooping around the crappy fridge for any type of food to snack on for probably the seventh time in the day.

"I- I need Doc, he's... he's supposed to see this." Your voice was quiet, trying to sound steadfast even though your breaths were sounding airy and wheeze like.

Your hand outstretched, the periwinkle colored flower was now dry and started to crumple its sad, wilted petals inward.

"A? flower?" Grif asked, his voice full of confusion as he looked at you long enough to take in your disheveled state that held the flower.  

"It's not just a-" You exhaled tiredly, clearly not in the mood to spill the dirt of your disease to yet more people who had an even higher risk of accidentally blurting out your secret to Church.

Simmons was too honest, Grif would 'accidentally' give you away without even thinking about it, and Sarge would be more than happy to prove Church wrong if the male were to assume anything about you. Sarge would expose your secret in the process, and then somehow blame your Blue ways for having this disease in the first place.

"Just, where is Doc?"

"He's in his room down the hall." Grif scoffed before turning his attention to the fridge, his top half-hidden behind the dirty white fridge door.

"Grif! You can't just tell the enemy where our men are." Sarge scolded immediately, Grif only made a grunting noise before bending down further to reach towards the back of the fridge.

Before Sarge could make any more threats, or begin to even start to for that matter, you grabbed the withering flower and ventured further into their base. Sarge's voice was growing quieter the more you walked down the surprisingly long bedroom hallway. The army, the UNSC or Project Freelancer, must have thought a lot more people would be so willing to be stationed in the most desolate places with nothing to do but play a long game of capture the flag. Oh, how wrong the Army was to even waste money to even have that idea.

Finally, what you could guess was Doc's room. Especially since smooth jazz music was pouring out from behind the closed door, and you could even hear the cheery humming of the male with the calming beat. It felt bad for you to even knock on the steel door and interrupt whatever he was doing in his room, but you could say sorry later after you updated Doc about your disease. The volume of the music was lowered, and you could hear Doc say 'It's open!'.

"Doc?" You mumbled, once you tentatively opened his bedroom door.

Random posters of cheesy uplifting quotes, colorful little post-it's of self-esteem cheer up notes were plastered haphazardly among the posters that were glued to his walls. Typical Doc, for someone so bullied and teased from both teams, he managed to decorate his room the way he would want to make him feel warm and fuzzy on the inside. He was hyping himself up every day, and that was the most precious thing you could witness. Not everyone here was in the mindset to think the way Doc thought about themselves. Doc could perhaps go crazy and yet some part of his mind was so hardwired in positivity, that he could still find good things to say about himself.

"Oh! I didn't expect to see you here!" Doc spoke up once he registered you were standing in his room. He smiled warmly, glasses that sat on his nose tilted slightly from the movement of his cheeks.

"Well I'm your only real patient right now with a life-threatening disease, I would think you would expect me." You could have winced at the dry joke you were forced to crack to not ruin the welcoming environment in his room.  "Speaking of disease, Doc I have something to show you."

"Good or bad." The male rose his pointer finger to push the clear frames more upon his nose and plopped down on his bed to sit. His hands folded in his lap like a good listening student in elementary school. Except this was a sick version of  show and tell in a fucked elementary school.

"Well.." Your hand outstretched and showed the other the flower in your hand.

It stunk of a now sickeningly sweet smell, even if it was wilting and sad looking now more than ever. The periwinkle blue colored remained bright and vibrant, but the very ends of the petals were turning into the brown color that signified its slow process of decay. The smell was new, but then again maybe it was just the stench of Red Base itself. Maybe either base smelt different, but that would be a dumb observation.

"It's a Morning Glory, its.. pretty?"

Your eyes widened from Doc's observation. "Doc, are you kidding? I've never produced whole ass flowers before! and you want to tell me the type of flower it is! Are you still fucking kidding?"

"You're right! You're right I couldn't help myself." Clearing his throat, Doc leaned forward and plucked the head of the flower from your open palm.  He held the flower close to his eyes, nose wrinkling from the scent practically smacking him in the face from how nauseous it was making him feel.

"This is the first time you've ever produced right?" You nodded, and Doc hummed under his breath. One eyebrow cocked in question as he stared at the flower.  Curious fingers pulled at the petals and rubbed them between his thumb and forefinger, now and then making a noise of acknowledgment.

"Well, the disease is getting worse, it's progressing way faster than I thought it would. Good news, you won't choke on stems yet, just fully formed flower heads."

"That means?" You asked,

“It means you're well on your way to dying."

"Wha- Doc!"

"What? You asked."

You guffawed at the man who seemed stoic for once, he seemed so calm as a sudden rush of panic racked your brain and nearly left you screaming internally in your subconscious.

"Listen I'm serious when you need to actually talk to Church about this, or else this is going to be the end of you."

In the middle of you silently screaming and perhaps trying to hold together your sanity long enough to not break down screaming in front of Doc, in the Red Base no doubt. A third presence in the room made your spine curl inwards, and the acidic taste of sourness flooded your mouth.

"Tell me what?" Church asked when he materialized in the room, his see-through form that was hinted in the same color of the Morning Glory that was cradled tenderly in Doc's hand.

Now you had another reason to hate flowers, their colors reminded you of Church.

[liannyeong]

Known

Summary: She did not see this coming. How did it lead to this? How did she end up in this twisted fate? // A sequel to Unknown

Word count: 2521

Pairing: Jaebum X OC

Warning(s): mafia!Jaebum, this may be rather gory though there’s nothing explicit here, oh and there’s action violence in here, I have no idea if I should categorize this fic as angst but well there are those moments

A/N: I suppose I enjoyed way too much with this fic. I’ve always wanted to write something more action-packed so I attempted to do so with this fic. I hope you enjoy this! :)

She did not see this coming. How did it lead to this? How did she end up in this twisted fate?

Jaebum has his hands tied behind his back, his face badly bruised, his classic suit torn here and there, caked with blood. His eyes burn with rage and it scares her. Not because she has never seen him that way before, but he has never looked at her that way. He has never gotten angry at her, never this intensity. His face screams betrayal, and a part of her heart breaks. But she has to be professional. She schools her face stoic.

"I did send my boys to get her, to get you. But I found out about her past. And well," Park throws his hands up. "Here we are." He grins evilly, as he pours himself a drink. He lifts the glass up, as if making a toast to his audience, and then takes a sip. "She's the best assassin one could ever want. A pity you didn't know that." 

Jaebum doesn't even respond, but he stares right at her. His eyes never waver, the intensity in them increasing with each passing moment. She's scared of his rage, but she can't do anything about it. She can't show her fears. If anything, being an assassin has taught her to feel nothing. Yet, she can't help the fear blooming in her chest. It's been so long since she felt fear. She hasn't felt it in years. A lifetime, perhaps. And now, she yearns for numbness again.

Park places his glass on the mahogany desk and whispers to her ear, "You know what to do."

She pales, eyes widen in shock as she stares at the older male. No. Didn't he promise that he would keep Jaebum safe? Then why is his command entirely the opposite of what he promised? She stands in the room, immobilized. Is he breaking his promise?

"What are you waiting for?" Park barks.

"You promised me you wouldn't harm him!"

He sneers. "No, silly girl. I promised that I won't hurt him. But I can order others to wreck him." An evil grin breaks onto his lips. His voice low and rough, he says, "And I'm ordering you to do so."

No. No way! How can he... No. Idiot. She has been an idiot. She has been played. Why didn't she see this coming? She should have known better than to trust the words of a criminal. The years of living as a normal human being has gotten to her. It made her soft-hearted. It made her trust people easily. It made her dependent on others. Her skills and abilities as an assassin has rusted.

"Kill him!" Park commands as he shoves the gun into her hands.

With trembling hands, she aims at Jaebum, who is still staring back at her. As if he's challenging her to kill him. As if he wouldn't forgive her for eternity. But despite all the fire in his eyes, she can never unsee the man she loves. She will never have the heart to kill him with her hands. 

"No," she breathes out as she changes her target, pulling the trigger as soon as her aim lands on Park. The middle-aged man barely missed the shot, which hit the guard behind him as he raises his arm up, and twists her arm. She bites back a groan. When Park pulls out another gun, pointing at her forehead, she easily ducks down whilst sending an uppercut kick. His hold on her loosens and she slips her arm away. Her fingers run along the side of her thigh, and she unsheathes a knife. But she didn't have the time to stab Park with her knife, for his underlings have fired shots at her direction.

Her skills may have rusted, but all it takes is a little cleaning and scrubbing to get it shiny again. She has lived most of her life dodging bullets and blocking attacks. It's all deeply ingrained in her body, a muscle memory. She takes cover at the desk, thankful that its huge size can shield her completely. She fishes out a few knives, and when she finds the right moment, she rolls away from the shelter and throws at the guards in the chest. Hastily, she attacks and defends herself as she comes closer to Jaebum. In one hard tug of her knife against the ropes, she frees Jaebum. He says no word of thanks - not that she's complaining, considering their lives are in danger.

More guards stream into the room and it's a clear win for Park. But not on her watch. She has held the title of a deadly assassin for years. The title may have been taken away from her but not the skills that gave her that name. Her footsteps light, her body easily blending into the shadows of the dimly lit room, she moves around, slitting throats. With each second, the numbers dwindle.

As the last body drops to the floor, she realizes she's standing in a room filled with dead bodies. A crazy bloodbath. Crimson everywhere. The carpets soaked, imprints and splatters on the walls. A gory sight. One that she hasn't seen for so long. One that she realizes she missed so much.

But she has no time to bask in reminiscence. Jaebum is not here and so is Park. She could only hope that Jaebum is close to killing the other male. She pulls out every single knife that pierced into the bodies, then sheathing it back to where it belongs. As much as she likes her knives to be clean, there's not much time to do so. Not when Jaebum's life could be in danger. She dashes out of the room, her instincts telling her to head to the rooftop. Park would want to escape. The easiest would be by helicopter. As she climbs up the stairs, she hears gunshots.

She keeps herself to the shadows, observing for a moment. Park has got good agility despite his old age, dodging each of Jaebum's shots and attacks just barely. He's got good strength too, for each blow that he lands on Jaebum sends the younger flying backwards. Jaebum groans at a particular attack and he drops to the floor. Park then steps onto his arm, earning another howl of pain from the younger.

She unsheathes two knives from her upper arms and hurls them at Park. Both inflicted injuries on him, but only one is buried into his body. Park grunts in pain, but pulls the knife out anyway. In the midst of it, she has rolled herself closer to him, sending kicks and punches without stopping.

But she didn't see her own knife in Park's hands. He slashes the knife at her, across her stomach and the fabric of her clothing tears, followed by a crimson red liquid splattering out onto the ground. She backs away defensively, clutching at her new wound. Park doesn't rest either as he blindly slashes the air with her knife.

"I should have killed you back then!" he growls.

"But you couldn't," she taunts as she evades his attacks. It's like they're dancing around on the rooftop, in circles. One attacks, the other defends. It reminds her of her dance with Jaebum when they got married. The only difference is that it was far more romantic back then, and it wasn't Park that she danced with. Nor was she an assassin. She was a normal girl.

Until of course, this bastard came into her life. 

When she killed the men in the alley, her blood pulsed. It felt as if her power surged through her blood, and she felt powerful. Her heart pumped, her moves swift, just like the old days. The thrill of killing. The satisfaction of slitting throats. She had long forgotten that feeling after she was shot in the chest and nearly died. She had long forgotten how it felt to kill after she was on the brink of death. That memory burnt through her soul, and guilt overwhelmed her. For all the lives she took, she had no remorse. But that moment when she nearly tasted death, she remembered every single torturous death she did on her victims, on the orders of her clients. She regretted them all.

She started a fresh page, moved on, and did her best to be kind.

But the past would always come back to haunt her. Sometimes she has dreams of the souls she took, haunting her, repaying the same action to her. She would wake up in cold sweat, tears streaming down her face, and she would fear sleeping. She never told Jaebum any of these even though he asked her about her nightmares. All she ever did was latching herself onto him, clung on him as if it was her life.

A week after she killed the men in the alley, Park came with an offer. She refused, but he threatened to take Jaebum's life. She had no choice. Just like that, she was back to her old self. The cold and ruthless assassin against her will once more. But now, she has someone to protect.

Her eyes glaze over to Jaebum, who's flat on the ground, too weak to move. His whole face bloodied and bruised, and the frowns on his face indicate extreme pain. She feels sorry for him. He shouldn't have met her. If she never existed in his life, maybe this wouldn't even happen.

She doesn't realize her temporary distraction is a golden chance for Park to stab her knife into her stomach. She coughs out blood from the move, her knees buckling.

"Your days of being a ruthless assassin are long over. You're nothing like that now," Park sneers. "A shame to your reputation." He pulls out the knife and once more, drives it back into another part of her torso. And again. And again. She expects him to finish her off. She expects him to thrust the knife onto her beating heart. But he doesn't. Instead, he leaves the knife in her body, and pulls himself up to where Jaebum is. No. Not Jaebum!

She tries to move her body, but each movement is like hell. It hurts. Her blood starts pooling beneath her. Her vision blurry. She starts seeing black spots at the corner of her eyes. But she struggles. She struggles hard to keep herself awake. To keep herself alive.  She pulls out the knife from her torso and drags herself closer to the duo, crawling on the ground.

Park grabs Jaebum by his collar, hoisting him up as if he weighs nothing. The middle-aged man sneers at his rival, unaware of her plans. "Any last words?" Jaebum lets out a string of vulgarities, followed by a bloodied spit at the older male's face. Anger flushed to Mr Park's face, his eyes narrowed at the helpless male. 

"Goodbye, Jaebum." 

"No," she hears Jaebum say. "Goodbye to you."

A gunshot rings in the air. A slash through the air.

Park drops to the floor, and so did Jaebum.

When she sees blood pooling underneath Park's body, she lets out a sigh of relief. She pulls herself up, despite the crazy dripping of her blood onto the ground. She struggles to stand on her two feet, but the sight of Jaebum getting up, and very much alive brings happiness to her. However, she should have noticed the gun in Jaebum's hand first for he started firing shots at her. All of them missed her. She reckons Jaebum's doing so purposely, for she wouldn't have been able to dodge those shots in such a wounded state.

Jaebum has his gun trained on her as he approaches. Instincts told her to run, to save her own life, to kill him. She has always survived on her instincts. But perhaps this time she doesn't want to listen to her guts. Perhaps this time, she doesn't want to survive. The great loss of blood makes her dizzy that she can't hold herself up with her two legs. So she lets her knees buckle once more. 

"Tell me why I shouldn't kill you," he snarls from an arm's distance. 

How merciful of him. This could have been her chance to beat him senseless, throw a knife at his heart and escape. But she has no knife. And she has no strength. Every breath she takes seems to sap away a part of her life force.

"You should. After all I've done, you should put an end to this. To me." She dares herself to look at the male. She dares herself to meet his gaze. She smiles. "I'm happy. That you're safe. That you're alive."

She can't really tell, but the soft clinking of the gun makes her think that Jaebum's grip on the gun has loosen.

"What does it matter to you whether I'm alive or not? You betrayed me!" He screams.

"I know." She smiles sadly. "I know a 'sorry' doesn't help but still... I'm sorry."

Her eyes droop low, tired of all the day's events. Tired of everything. But as her eyes start closing, she notices a shift in the distance. So she forces her eyes open again to see Park slowly sitting up. She plucks her knife from her back, much to Jaebum's surprise. She reckons he thinks she wants to attack him. She doesn't mind the sound of his tightened grip on the gun. If he were to shoot her, then it'll all be over. She hauls it at Park's direction, right at his forehead, his eyes blown wide in shock that his eyeballs seem to pop out of its sockets. He drops to the floor once more and so did she. She tore her wounds with that action. Even more blood is lost.

"Idiot!" She hears Jaebum yell and then, the clinking of the gun as it drops to the ground. Jaebum crouches before her, pulling her into his arms carefully. "You idiot! Why did you even..."

She tries to stay awake. But black spots are now blooming in her vision. "Are you crying?"

"Shut up."

"Are you crying... Over me?"

"Shut up!"

She smiles softly. It takes a great deal of effort to move her arm and brush his face. It hurts a lot, but she pretends it doesn't. "I'm sorry for betraying you. But all of it was true. All the memories, all the feelings you made me feel... all of them are true. And if there's one thing that isn't a lie, then it's my feelings for you." His tears drip onto her face. It's the first time she has ever seen the male cry. He has always been smiling, as if he feels no pain nor sadness.

"Jaebum," she calls his name ever so softly, as if sharing a secret. She places her hand onto his cheek, her thumb wiping away a tear. "I'm truly sorry."

Then her hand drops and she feels herself falling.

Falling.

Into his arms.

Into the darkness.

Into a world where there is no return.

[imitationeve]

Goodbye to Farewells [Peter Parker x Reader]

This is written on Peter’s point of view. And this is just a fanfiction

Warning: Bit of angst?

Based on the song: さようならへさよなら！by μ’s (via Project Love Live!)

Peter remembered the color of the sky when he first met [Name]. It was a beautiful shade of orange mixed with bright blue and spread across the sky. It was few days after Peter realized that he had a super power. Incredible one. He was so happy that he got one like the Avengers he admired so much. He had put on a hooded shirt, a pair of black shaded sunglasses, a mask with spider on it, a pair of comfortable pants, and went out at night.

He was felt excitement fueling his body as he jumped across the buildings, going around the City of Queens. That was when he heard a scream. He stopped himself. And that was the time when he felt arrogant having the power so he actually considered going there or not. He did. He saw a girl of his age getting attacked by guys in huge size.

“Let go of me!” She was on the brink of tears as she tried to push them away.

“Aww c’mon, I promise it will be fun.”

“Really? Can I have some of that too?” The men turned around to see a guy wearing a pair of sunglasses when it was almost sunset.

“Who do you think you are?” One of the men asked.

“Me? Just a friendly neighborhood.” The guy said immediately punching him in the jaw.

As Peter chased them off he turned to see if the girl was okay. She looked terrified. Her body was shaking hard and flinched when he approached.

“Hey, are you okay?” He helped her up. She nodded, still shaking. Peter escorted out the alley and asked if she needed help.

“N-no. I, I will be fine. Th, thank you.” She stuttered. Peter smiled under the mask and watched her go.

The next time he saw her was at school. He was talking with Ned when he spotted her talking with her friends by her locker. He stopped where he was to check if his eyes were deceiving him. No they were not. It was definitely the girl he saved last night. He felt relieved inside to see that she made it safely to her home. He wondered if he should go up to her to say ‘hi’ but stopped himself. He didn’t want anyone to know he had some powers.

“Hey, is anything wrong?” Ned asked, waving his hand in front of his friend.

“What? No, I’m fine. Dude, stop with the waving.” Peter said with a smile. He gave her one last look and walked away.

It didn’t take long to figure out her name. He thought it was cute, she was only in one of his classes but that was good enough for him.

And few days later he got an opportunity to talk with her again, but not as Peter Parker.

“Hey!” He shouted at the thugs trying to attack her. Different guys from last time. He felt bad for her that she got attacked twice in the week.

“That’s my friend you are trying to hurt you know.” He turned to see a twinkle of relief on her eyes.

After he rescued her, she thanked him and told him her name.

“I wish there were some way to show you my gratitude…” She dug through her bags but nothing was found.

“Hey that’s fine. Just be careful around. It’s second time this week I saw you like this.” Peter said. She smiled and continued to go through her bags.

“Um, I’ve got nothing. Sorry, um… How should I call you?”

Peter blinked. He hadn’t thought up of name he should use while he was like this. He quickly rolled his brain but nothing came up.

“Oh, well then umm….” She looked closely at him. He was worried for a moment about her finding out who he was.

“How about Spiderman?” He blinked. He was suddenly curious why she come up with that name.

“There’s spider on your mask.”

Oh.

“Um, do you like it?” She asked.

“Yeah, it’s fine.” She smiled as he escorted her out.

“Well then, see you later Spiderman!” He waved at her and she was gone.

Peter was in a good mood for the whole week until he saw Uncle Ben’s murder right in front of his eyes. Guilt engulfed him as he screamed. The day after the funeral he was sitting at the corner of the alley where he first met [Name], crying.

“Spiderman?” he glanced up to see [Name] looking down at him. He quickly put on his sunglasses and looked away from her.

“Are you okay?” she sat down next to him.

“Well, no. I… It’s just that, someone very important to me died and it’s all my fault.”

“Oh… Can I ask what happened?” She asked.

“I, I let go of this thief and he, he….”

[Name] grabbed his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.” She whispered.

“Spiderman, it’s, I’m so sorry to hear that.” He buried his head into his knees.

“I used my power in a wrong way. I shouldn’t have used it for my own good.”

[Name] watched him and shook her head.

“No, you saved me before, twice. That wasn’t for your own good. I thank you, and my family would’ve been in the same sadness as you were if you didn’t save me that day.”

Peter didn’t reply. Words swam inside his head. Her words and Uncle Ben’s words.

“Right….” Peter grunted. [Name] patted his shoulder.

“So, what are you going to do from now on?” she asked.

“I think I know.” He replied with hoarse voice.

She smiled at him, “Hope that’s the right answer for you.” She patted his shoulder, stood up and held out her hand toward him.

“C’mon. Get up. You shouldn’t be just lying around here like that.” She smiled at him.

Maybe that was when Peter fell for her. Perhaps before that but he was sure that was the moment he was in love with her. He had saved her and in return she saved him as well. He eyed her during the class, looked for her at hallways and found himself just staring at her during lunch.

“I thought you liked Liz.” Ned said, realizing that Peter was staring at someone other than the school’s most popular girl.

“Well, I figured out that was hopeless.” Peter replied, eyes still glued to [Name].

“And you think you have chance with her? You barely had a chance to talk to her before.” Ned pointed out. Peter wanted to say that wasn’t true but Ned was half right. [Name] never talked to Peter Parker before. She only had a conversation with Spiderman.

“Hey, by the way, have you seen that video on YouTube? There’s this guy flying around in a weird costume.” He heard one of [Name]’s friend at the hallway. He stopped and listened while pretending to look through his locker.

“Mmhm?” [Name] didn’t really seem surprised by the news.

Peter’s heart pounded, wondering if she will mention that she knew the guy in the video. He wondered what she will say about him.

“Yeah, it’s really cool. Wonder why he’s doing those things.”

“He’s a real hero. Going around neighborhoods. You don’t see the Avengers doing that.” [Name] said.

Peter tried hard not to smile. His lips quivered but he did his best not to smile like an idiot.

“Look, someone’s got a crush on the local hero.” [Name]’s friend teased.

“Oh, shut up.” [Name] giggled.

Peter closed the locker door and quickly walked away, he felt his heart about to burst. He kept down his excitement but it was very hard. He wanted to run out of the school and scream. It was hard to control.

That night after he went out for a patrol he stopped by [Name]’s apartment. She told him where she lived, just in case he wanted to pay a visit.

“Hey Spiderman!” She said, climbing out the window to the fire escape.

“Hey!” Peter sat down on the rail. She looked around, worried anyone might see him but hardly anyone came to an alley filled with trash dumps.

She giggled, “Still can’t get used to the costume.”

“Hey, I’m a hero! Hero needs a costume, like Iron Man!”

She nodded with a grin, “Right.” Peter had told her that he admired Iron Man.

“C’mon, you know that.” Peter smiled under the mask.

“Yeah I know.” And they stared at each other for a moment until Peter, blushing under the mask, broke the silence and brought up conversation by asking her about school. And after about an hour of talking, Peter left.

It was a torture for him to hide his identity. It really was. He had thought up of telling her numerous times but he pushed away the thought. Every time. And for some reason, she never asked either. Peter did ask if she wanted to see under the mask but she just shrugged.

“Well, I knew you as Spiderman from the start. To me you are just Spiderman.” She replied.

“So you don’t want to know who’s under the mask?” Peter’s voice shook.

“Not now. Someday, I will. But not now. This is fun anyway. Knowing someone who’s smart enough to make that web but not even knowing his name. I don’t know.” She grinned.

And so they kept it like that.

Even after he got new suit from Iron Man himself. She was impressed, yes. And she seemed worried about his attitude.

“What happened to Friendly neighbor Spiderman?” She asked, touching his cheek over the mask.

“Hey, Iron Man himself came to recruit me! I’m pretty much an Avenger now. New –and better- Spiderman!” Peter said.

“Well, I just liked the old Spidey too as well.”

Peter shrugged, “You better say goodbye to that old Spiderman then.”

[Name] looked at him. After a minute of silence, she opened her mouth, “I will save up goodbye until later.”

“Okay…?”

“We may meet again someday.” She smiled.

Peter didn’t reply, he felt upset that she wasn’t as happy as he was with the new suit and being an almost-Avenger.

“Or,” She said.

“I will say goodbye. Goodbye means we will meet again somday.”

Peter raised his brow, “It does?” He asked.

[Name] smiled, “To me it does. It can also mean ‘hello’ to the future, right? Goodbye’s a word meaning ‘see you again’ and it will be.”

Peter was puzzled. Was she that upset to see him like this?

“Hey, [Name]… Do you not like me this way?”

“No. I like you in any form. I liked you in that crappy old homemade suit,”

“Hey!”

“And I like you in that high-tech looking suit as well.” She nodded.

“Well, glad to hear that. I think I should get going.”

“Okay, see you around.”

“Yeah, see you around.”

But from then it was hard to have conversation with her. With Peter’s desire to impress Tony Stark, he did even more patrols and [Name] seemed busy with her own business. Peter had short conversation with her from time to time but she seemed to avoid him so all Peter could do was to stare at her at school, his head divided into Team Red and Team Blue whether to tell her about who Spiderman is or not. Of course, he never got guts to tell her that he was Spiderman, or the fact he liked her.

Oh and who knew she would never meet the Old Spidey again.

A month passed after the conversation.

And Peter spotted a note on the wall of the alley they first met.

‘Come meet me as soon as possible – [Initial]’

Peter headed straight to see her. She looked sad.

“Hey, long time no see.” Peter said.

“Yeah.” She looked down, not knowing what to say.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, helping her climb out the window.

She hesitated, “I, it’s just that…” She looked up at him, straight into the spot where his eyes would be.

“I, my family’s moving away.”

Peter’s world stopped around him.

“Wait, what?”

“You know I’ve been busy these days… Me and my family are going out of the country.”

“What? But why?” Peter’s voice was filled with despair. His voice was already begging her not to go.

“Dad got a new job, and he has to move. He couldn’t leave me here alone so the whole family’s moving.” She said. She avoided his gaze, looking down and swallowing the tears.

“When…?” He asked.

“This weekend.”

Peter was speechless. He reached out for her cheek with shaking hand, cupped her cheeks and had her look up at him. He leaned down and kissed her lips over the mask, wiping the tears away. She froze where she was. He broke the kiss and looked down at her. [Name] reached out for the mask, and he waited for her to take it off but she only uncovered his lips. And kissed it.

Peter embraced her and deepened the kiss. Tears were flowing down his cheek as well. He had been too much of a coward to tell her that he loved him and now he could and she was leaving.

They shared kiss for a while until she crouched down and sobbed. He pulled down his mask and sat next to her, hugging her.

“I don’t want to go Spidey…. I want to stay here with you… I really, I…” She choked on her tears while leaning onto his chest.

“Shh…” He tried calmed her down while smoothing down her back. But he couldn’t stop his tears. No he could never.

They didn’t let go of each other and held onto each other hard.

The thought that this would probably the last of her for him to see was stuck in his brain.

“Hey [Name]… This…” he thought for a moment and kissed her cheek.

“You told me that goodbye means ‘we’ll meet again’. Right?”

She nodded. She was still leaning against his chest, sobbing.

“Well I will say that…. You don’t say it. Okay…?” He asked softly. She nodded.

“I just want time to stop right now.” She manage to say it.

“I know. Me too.”

They stayed silent and still for a long time. The time they never wanted it to end was over. Peter had to go, and [Name] had to go back inside.

“I’m glad you came tonight. I will go to school tomorrow and, and get my stuff….” She told him.

Peter leaned in and kissed her one last time. Soft, wet kiss.

“Goodbye (See you again) [Name].” He said, like he promised.

She nodded. Setting the farewell aside. He gave her one last look and took off.

-

Peter saw her at school the next day. Holding a box filled with her belongings.

“Huh, I guess she’s going away.” Ned said, looking at the box.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Peter said, choking on tears.

“Hey, are you okay?” Ned asked. Peter didn’t answer.

“Will you excuse me for a moment?” he asked his friend.

“Yeah sure.” Ned replied, heading away to his locker.

Peter watched her bidding farewell to her friends and when she was just with her mother he walked up to her.

“Hey [Name].” She stopped to turn around, clearly puzzled why he stopped her.

“Take your time sweetheart.” Her mother headed out the door, leaving the two alone.

“Can I help you?” [Name] asked, eyes red from crying the day before.

He felt his hear ripping by seeing that.

“I, um….” He bit his lips. She was waiting.

“Uh, goodbye.”

[Name] seemed indifferent and was about to say something too but he stopped her.

“You promised me that you won’t say that.” Peter said with shaky voice.

She raised her brow.

“You also said goodbye means ‘we’ll meet again someday,’ right?” He managed to smile with quivering lips.

She froze on the spot. Her eyes were welling up with tears and her arms, holding the box, were shaking.

Peter grabbed the box, preventing it from falling.

“Peter, I….” She opened her mouth, her expression of despair made Peter’s world crumbling down.

“[Name], no. We promised. It’s really painful saying it out loud. And I don’t want you to be.”

She took a deep breath, swallowing back the tears, “You will always be in my heart.” She managed to give him one last bright smile.

He returned the smile. He wanted to hold her hands, hug her, kiss her, never let her go. She finally turned around and walked to the exit. Before she opened the door she turned around one last time.

“Goodbye [Name].” Peter croaked out.

[Name] smiled and went out the door, where her mother was waiting for her.

Peter looked up at the ceiling, keeping the tears from coming out. But there was a lump in his heart that wouldn’t be gone for a long time.

                                        ‘Goodbye to farewell!’           A silly urge, but I found myself wanting to say it…                    It might be a good thing to say, after all!

A/N: some people might ask me to write the sequel, please don’t. The song’s about ‘hope that cannot be promised in front of farewell.’ If I write part 2 of this then it will be a promised hope. I want to leave it like this. But I would love to hear opinions about this ^^

[luciferismyhomeboy]

On the Brink - Chapter 4

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Pairings: Lucifer x You

Warnings: Mild swearing. Mild wing kink.

Author’s Note: A little longer chapter. Hope you all like it!

Tags: @krysta1kitkat @caffeine-nights @dekahg @capsofwinchesters@casteelle @tolieboy @xmaspumpkin @amyapathetic@littlepandadreamer @only-a-nerd @uruburock13 @teamfreewilllovesyou @supernatural-everyday @queen-of-the-lost-ones @jezzula @fangirl1855 @sympathyforluci @fromhellswithlove @youraveragespaceprincess @messengerofdark @imagesforfandoms @extreme-supernatural-lover @graysonatbest

You stood, gaping at your older brothers as they took down the whole room of demons. Rowena was chanting something in the corner and Crowley had disappeared the instant Sam and Dean had burst into the room. You watched as Dean stabbed one demon in the neck. Sam, on the other hand, was thrown through the air by the demon he was facing. He hit the wall and slid down to the floor. You snarled and took off running, slamming into the demon and tackling him to the floor. You grabbed Sam’s knife, which had fallen a few feet away, and jammed it into the demon’s side. He screamed and died and you felt more invigorated than you had in your whole life.

Grinning maniacally, you rose to your feet, not feeling any pain in the burned soles, and raced towards the next demon. You fought with reckless abandon and it felt so good. Three more demons died by your hand and as you spun around looking for the next one, you realized there weren’t any more left. Instead, your brothers stood in the middle of the room, staring at you.

“Y/N?” Dean asked quietly, his eyes starting to tear.

You strode over to him in three quick steps and threw your arms tightly around his neck, being careful not to hurt him with the blade. Sam quickly joined the hug, throwing his gigantic arms around the both of you and squeezing tightly. You closed your eyes tightly, but they popped open again just as quick when you heard Lucifer snarl.

“Get the hell away from me!”

You saw Rowena and Cas standing above him. He was craning his neck to see them, but couldn’t move much because of his restraints. Rowena placed a hand on his head, chanting still. You immediately broke out of the group hug and plowed towards her.

“Hey!” You said, intending to stop her.

A hand grabbed your arm and yanked you backwards. You turned to see Sam pulling you away. You struggled but he just clamped down harder and the adrenaline you had felt a short while ago was gone. Your body was back to its weakened state.

“Stop, Y/N!” Sam said. “We need to break him out of Crowley’s spell.”

You stopped struggling, remembering that Lucifer had told you Crowley could make him do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. Why were they breaking him from Crowley’s spell?

“We can’t have Crowley having all the power of an archangel.” He said as though he were reading your mind.

Lucifer screamed as Rowena seemed to reach the crux of the spell and you shoved Sam away from you with all your might. He stumbled, not expecting it, and you raced towards Rowena hellbent on stopping her.

But she was already done. By the time you got to the table, Lucifer was panting, his body covered in a cold sweat, his eyes closed.

“What did you do to him?” You growled at Rowena.

She narrowed her eyes. “I did what I was asked to do.”

“Which is what?”

“She cut Crowley’s hold on him.” Cas answered from Lucifer’s other side. “So he’s got all his powers back?”

Cas shook his head. “No. In order to break the spell, she had to permanently seal him in this vessel. He doesn’t have his powers.”

You looked down at the tortured archangel and were surprised to find him looking right back up at you. He seemed wary, but you smiled down at him anyways.

“We’re rescued.” You said to him.

“You’re rescued,” He responded quietly. “I’m just switching captors.”

You cocked your head in confusion, then suddenly understood. Lucifer may have been something akin to a friend here, but on the outside he was still your enemy. At least, that was how everyone else would view it. You started to protest, but your vision was starting to black out at the corners. You stumbled, heard someone call your name, and then you were falling into the darkness.

When you woke, you were lying in a bed. A proper, comfy bed. You snuggled deeper into the warm covers, opening your eyes the tiniest bit. You recognized your comforter and the realization that you were home safe in the bunker struck you like lightening. You sat up quickly and realized that you felt good. Like, really good. You shoved the blankets aside and looked down at your feet, which were poking out of your favorite pair of flannel pajamas. Smooth pink skin covered them as though the bloody, burning blisters had never been there. You ran your hands over your shoulder, marveling at the fact that the mass of burn scars which had once covered you was gone. Only your unblemished skin remained. Cas must have healed you. You laughed for the first time in a year.

You left the room in a great mood and made your way down to the table in the center of the bunker and found your brothers there. Both of them looked at you as you padded out from the hallway and both of them smiled. You returned the smile and rushed to them, embracing each separately and squeezing them tight. Then you sat at the table, reveling in the fact that you were home.

“I’m so glad you guys came for me.” You said.

Sam and Dean exchanged a look. You hated when they did that.

“Uh, Y/N, obviously we’re happy too, but we had no idea you were there.” Sam said.

You cocked your head in confusion. “Then what were you doing there?”

“We came for Lucifer.” Dean interjected. “He and Crowley surfaced a few weeks ago and started tearing up the planet. We thought they had teamed up until one of Crowley’s minions told us different. Told us Crowley had imprisoned Lucifer in his vessel somehow and could make him do whatever he wanted. We couldn’t have that.”

“I agree,” You said. “Where is he?”

“We don’t know where Crowley went. Probably in hiding.”

“Not Crowley. I don’t give two shits about Crowley. Where is Lucifer?”

“He’s in the dungeon.” Sam said. “Until we decide what to do with him.”

“What do you mean, what to do with him?” You asked in confusion.

“Well, we could send him back to the Cage, or we could kill him.”

You were back on your feet in an instant. “The hell you are!"

Sam looked alarmed. “What other choice do we have?”

“You could keep him here.” You said, raising your chin in defiance.

Dean’s eyebrows shot up. “Here? In the bunker?”

“Yeah!” “No way in hell!” He snarled angrily.

“Well you aren’t killing him and you aren’t sending him back to the Cage.” You responded hotly.

“Why not?”

You faltered, searching for an answer. “Because...because I said so.”

Dean didn’t say anything for a few moments, just looked at you incredulously. You crossed your arms and stared straight back at him.

“Do you know what you’re asking us to do?” He finally said.

You responded in a low voice. “Do you know what you’re asking me to give up?”

“Y/N, this guy has tried to kill me and Sam multiple times!”

“Yeah, and the same guy has been patching me up after Crowley’s torture sessions for almost as long as he’s been imprisoned with me! He’s been my only companion for months now.” Your anger melted and your voice grew soft. “And I’m sorry, I know it’s asking a lot. But I can’t let him go. If you don’t want him here, that’s fine, we’ll go somewhere else. But he’s not staying in that dungeon and he’s not going back in the Cage. And you are definitely not killing him.”

Dean’s expression was still stern, but he sighed in defeat. “Fine. But if he puts one black feather out of line, we’re re-visiting this issue.”

“Fine,” You said. “I’m going to go let him out. And by the way, his feathers are white…not black.” You spun on your heel triumphantly and walked towards the dungeon.

“She’s seen his wings?” Sam asked Dean in a low voice. “Isn’t that, like, a big deal?”

Dean stared after you down the hall. “I don’t know. But I don’t like her defending him like this.”

“Me either.”

You entered the dungeon and saw Lucifer sitting against the bars of the cell, his back to the door. He was staring dully at the opposite wall.

“Hey,” You called softly, not wanting to startle him.

He was on his feet the instant he heard your voice, peering through the bars at you with a wary expression on his face. You saw that he had been given clean clothes at least, though he somehow looked more disheveled than you remembered. The keys were on a hook outside the room and you had grabbed them when you entered. Now you sorted through them, trying to find the one that would unlock his cell.

“You’re letting me out?” He asked.

You concentrated on the keys. “You can’t stay here.”

He looked shocked for a second, then he turned away. “Maybe the next cell will at least have a bed.” He responded coldly.

You looked up at him in confusion, then understood when you saw the anger in his face.

“No, you idiot,” You said, smirking. “I meant that I’m not letting you stay here in this cell. I didn’t mean that I’m moving you out of the bunker to a different cell.”

Lucifer was silent for a moment. Then, "So I’m free to leave?”

“The dungeon, yes. The bunker, no.” He scowled and you shrugged. “It’s the best I could do. "

He peered at you through the bars. "You look different."

You finally found the correct key, fitted it into the slot, and opened the door. He stepped through and you suddenly found his face a few inches from your face. Your heart leaped into your throat, but not from fear. It was more like...anticipation. He reached out and ran the fingers of one hand through your newly washed hair, focusing on the strands like he had never seen them before.

"You're clean." He remarked simply.

"Yeah," You responded. "Healed too. Cas."

His face darkened slightly and he stepped away. Suddenly you felt like you could breathe again but you weren't so sure it was what you wanted. You realized you had liked Lucifer invading your personal space. 

"Hey, how about your wing?" You asked, crossing your arms against the startling revelation.

"Still there," He grinned slightly.

"Okay, well if you need me to take a look again, I will. Just say the word."

"Of course, little Winchester." He swept past you and opened the door that led back into the hallway.

Your brothers were waiting in the hallway, wearing stern expressions that were almost identical.

“Rules.” Dean said without any preamble. Lucifer crossed his arms and cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t leave the bunker. Don’t go in the library. Don’t piss me off. And stay away from Y/N.”

“Excuse me?” You asked before Lucifer could respond. You were gaping at your older brother.

“You heard,” Dean retorted, still glaring at the archangel.

You shoved in front of Lucifer in the narrow hallway and forced Dean to look from the archangel to you. “That last one is a bunch of bull.”

“Y/N, this isn’t open for debate-”

“You listen to me, Dean.” You hissed. “He is the only one who knows what I went through. He’s the only one I could rely on for months. If he wants to stay away from me because that’s what he wants, then that’s fine. But it’s not going to be a rule. Or I’m going to make sure it gets broken. A lot.”

Dean first scowled at you, then at Lucifer. You half-turned to see the archangel looking at you with that same odd expression you had first seen him wear back in Hell.

“Now, I am going to my room.” You continued. “And I will get Lucifer set up in the room next to mine. Neither of you will have to lift a finger. Alright?”

Dean said nothing, but he stepped aside so you could get through. Sam did the same. You marched confidently between them down the hall, glancing over your shoulder to see if the archangel was following you. He was.

The room next to yours was furnished, so you didn’t have to do much to get it set up for him. He sat down on the bed, testing it, while you made sure the television worked. You heard a soft snore a few moments later and turned to see Lucifer dead asleep on the bed. Smiling to yourself, you turned off the light and closed the door behind you as you stepped out into the hallway. Then you went into your room, turned on Netflix (so many shows you had missed!), and soon were fast asleep yourself.

“I still don’t like it,” Dean said. He, Sam, and Cas were in the kitchen. Sam had filled Cas in on what had happened thus far.

“I don’t like it either,” Cas said. “But it doesn’t seem to be doing any harm.”

“And you know what the kicker is?” Dean continued like the angel hadn’t spoken. “She’s seen his wings!”

“What?” Cas asked sharply.

“Yeah. I said they were black or something, and she corrected me! Apparently his feathers are white!”

Cas sat down heavily at the table and stared down at the wood. Sam glanced at him.

“Cas? What’s wrong?” He asked.

Dean stopped his angry ranting and looked down at the angel. Cas took a deep breath. Then he looked up at the brothers.

“Wings are sacred to an angel. They are tied into our very being. Seeing another’s wings, touching them, is the most intimate thing imaginable to us. Even more so than sex to humans. They are our strength as well as our weakness and letting another see them…well, only our mates are supposed to see our wings.”

“What?” Dean exploded. “My sister has been mating with Lucifer?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying.” Cas said irritably. “I’m just saying that Lucifer has been intimate with her in a way that I would have never thought possible for him. I mean, he’s not the kind to show vulnerability. And she probably doesn’t even know what a big deal it was.”

“So what are you saying?” Sam said.

“I’m saying…I’m saying that Y/N and Lucifer were in the same cell for months and didn’t kill each other. They obviously have some sort of bond and it’s not superficial, not if she’s seen his wings. That’s all I can say.”

“I don’t like this,” Dean snarled.

“Listen, Dean,” Sam said, regrouping. “This may not be a bad thing.”

“What are you talking about? This is our sister!”

“I know, I know, but hear me out. If Lucifer likes her, even just a little, it may work out for us. He might be more willing to be on our side.”

“I doubt he likes her.” Dean said. “He doesn’t like anything. He didn’t like his own brother enough to keep from killing him.”

“So what are you suggesting then?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know!” Dean exploded. “All I know is I want my sister away from that creep!”

“I don’t know if that’s possible.” Cas said.

“Why?”

Cas just shrugged and responded simply, “She’s seen his wings.”

You were woken by the light shining on your face from the hallway. You peered through squinty eyes to see Lucifer standing in your doorway, the light in the background shrouding his features in darkness.

“What are you doing?” You asked testily. You didn’t like to be woken up, but he knew that of course.

“I, uh, well, my wing was hurting and I think there might be some feathers stuck in awkward positions. Would you mind taking a look?"

You sighed. "Of course not. Come here."

You patted the spot next to you on the bed and Lucifer sat down, facing away from you. You turned on the light on the nightstand next to you and turned back to see his wings already stretched out. It was no less magnificent a sight the second time. You took a deep breath, refraining from running your hands through the fluffy feathers inches from you, and looked at the wound.

It was vicious looking and deep, closer to his back, and running almost fully through the thick corded muscle that ran along the top of his wing. Angel wings must be tougher than you had realized, because you were sure that Crowley had all but sheared his wing off with how hard he had swung that cleaver. You touched the area by the wound and felt him shiver. The skin wasn't hot to the touch, which was a good sign. You saw a few bent feathers by the edge of the cut and brushed them softly. He hissed and stiffened.

"These the ones?" You asked softly.

"Yep, those are them."

"Alrighty, I'll get them."

You worked quickly, preening away the broken feathers until only the perfect ones remained. You worked your hand through the rest of the feathers so that they all ran the same way. Also, you couldn't lie to yourself, you kind of liked the way it made the archangel tense up and groan.

"You sure like to live dangerously, huh Y/N?" He breathed.

You chuckled. "I think that's about as dangerous as it's going to get for me for a while."

You laid back down on the bed and were pleasantly surprised when he laid back as well. It didn't feel intimate, as you were under the covers and he was on top of them, but it felt peaceful. It ran through your mind that this was the guy so many people warned about. The Devil. Satan. And he wasn't so bad. 

"Wanna watch some tv?" You asked. "Fair warning: I may fall asleep."

"Whatever you want to do. Fair warning: I may too. For some reason, I have a hard time falling asleep without your incessant snoring."

"You can definitely stay in here." You said, secretly happy that he wanted to stay.  

There wasn't any snuggling or cuddling, but every so often you could see him turn his head and look at you out of the corner of your eye. And it made you feel warm and exhilarated at the same time. Lucifer fell asleep first and it didn't take long for you to follow him into dreamland.

That was how Dean found you two the next morning and, predictably, flipped his lid.