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#even when you desperately want to survive and cling onto something (that fall for me poem. ugh)
moonchild-in-blue · 1 year
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Oh, and I know I can tell I'm falling further again But I won't turn away It's far too late for me
(It's too late for me / It's too late)
I can't really put into words how much of an iron grip this song has on me. Especially that last part, where he repeats "It's too late for me" - I can't listen to it without tearing up and waiting to sing along from the top of of my lungs. It's one of those where I desperately wish I didn't relate to it, but in a weird, sick way, I'm glad I do.
It's SUCH a cathartic feeling to just put in on full volume and sing along. I just know Vessel must've had such a visceral moment recording this (all of their songs really, but yeah).
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mixtape-racha · 1 year
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it's a scream, baby! | hyunlix
chapter thirteen: ...to see what your insides look like
words: 1.26k // warnings: depictions of injuries, anonymous phone call
OFFICIAL GHOSTFACE KILL COUNT: 010
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she didn’t stop pushing the bike to go faster until the house left her peripheral vision. changbin basically lived in the middle of nowhere, so she still had 10 or 20 minutes until she reached the town, but in her haste she had forgotten to check how much petrol was in the tank before taking off. she cursed loudly as the bike trundled to a stop, merely a mile and a half away from changbin’s home.
she knew that somewhere around the area was a shortcut into the town that didn’t involve trudging down the highway, and so she wandered aimlessly to find the path she so desperately needed in that moment. she had no idea if the intruder had followed her, and without the bike, there was no telling how fast they’d catch up to her. honestly, she had only walked for maybe 5 minutes before something caught her attention, whipping herself around with the gun raised in case it was the killer descending.
a gasp of shock left her lips as she realized that couldn’t be further from the truth - in reality, she had stumbled across a wrecked car, in the midst of some bushes at the outskirts of the woods. she inched closer, recognizing the car from somewhere. she definitely knew that car, but she couldn’t be sure where it was from. she had a sneaking suspicion building under her skin, but she didn’t want that to be true. it could be, could it? fuck… it was changbin’s car.
it was practically impaled on a tree, the front end completely crushed, and (y/n) could only hope that changbin had managed to escape the crash without any major injuries. but, of course, with the universe against her in that moment, as she got closer she saw a blood splatter across the inside of the windshield.
the glass was practically falling out of the windshield, shattered beyond repair and only adding to the effect of the dented and destroyed front end of the car. the airbags had gone off, which (y/N0 quickly noticed had changbin’s body resting on them. there was no way he would’ve survived a crash like that - blood pooling from his head, arm bend at almost an impossible angle. his legs would have been trapped under the steering wheel with the way the car had folded in on itself, and (y/n) choked out a sob at the sight. she wondered if he cried for help, or tried to escape. she wondered if he put up a fight, tried to escape his fate. she didn’t want him to have died thinking no one cared. she wanted him to know how loved he was, and how hard she would’ve fought to save him if she could.
merely a week and a half ago, she had taken all of her friends out for a meal. she insisted on paying, even when they tried to refuse, jokingly commenting on never knowing when the last time they’d be able to go out a eat together would be. god, how the world had a a cruel way of using irony. here she was now, most of her friends dead. all she had left was yeji - who was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, jisung - who had disappeared with no way of contacting him, and felix - oh felix, who seemed to vanish into thin air with only a trace of blood left behind.
(y/n) was a disciple of horror and slasher movies, and so knew that without vivid proof of a body there was no way of telling whether a character was dead or not. it was with this knowledge that she clinged onto the faint hope that jisung and felix were still alive, no matter how silly it sounded. she couldn’t lose them too, not now. not after she’d lost everything else.
she was so caught up in her own thoughts as she trudged down the road headed towards the town, that she screamed when he phone rang out loudly. she had completely forgot she had it, and answered without so much as looking at who was phoning, her mind only on one thing.
“lixie, is that you? or sungie, please. please, tell me its either of you–” she rambled, hand gripped onto the device like it was a lifeline. a dark, distorted chuckle came through the speaker, and instantly her stomach turned. oh god, not now….
“poor, poor, little, (y/n). lost all your little friends, huh? what a shame…” the voice tutted, the tone making her skin crawl.
“fuck you,” she instantly bit back, feeling anger rise in her body. “absolutely fuck you, you cretin. you’re disgusting.” the words were basically spat out, and she couldn't fathom why she was even entertaining such a phone call.
“oh angel face, such horrible words. bet you didn’t know i’m doing this for you, hmm? couldn’t have all those horrible men ogling at what’s mine, can i?”
“the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“it means, little love,” the voice drawled, clearly getting off on drawing out the interaction. “you’re mine, (y/n). i never wanted to hurt you, i just needed to show you that you’re mine. those silly boys you kept around - they weren’t friends. they were just waiting for the right time to get in your pants, to defile my perfect angel.”
(y/n) scoffed, disgusted that whatever freak was on the other end of the phone could even fathom that as a good motive. “oh yeah? what were heejin, jinyoung, nari and areum? because i barely knew them. they sure as hell weren’t trying to ‘defile me’.” she knew that venom was dripping off of her words, and she just hoped it got the point across. the last thing she wanted was for the other victims to die for no reason, that would be even more awful.
the voice huffed, as if the question was an inconvenience, with no real need to be answered.
“lets call it collateral damage, hmm? but we have more pressing matters, angel. like your precious hyunjin, isn’t that right, pretty boy?”
she stayed silent for a second, confused by the words, until she heard a sickening crack - almost like a bone breaking - and an earth-shattering scream. hyunjin. he wasn’t dead after all.
but now wasn’t the time to dwell on that, what the hell was happening to him?
“don’t you dare fucking hurt him anymore, you asshole.” she spat, scowling as the killer simply laughed at her.
“better get your pretty ass back here then, hmm? because if not, well…. i might just trip and slit his pretty throat properly this time. and you wouldn’t want that on your conscious, would you?”
the killer couldn’t seriously be trying to spin this on her. telling her that her decision to run away or return to his trap would decide hyunjin’s fate? make her decide whether he lives or dies? that was next level fucked up, even for this guy.
“you’re insane. you’re crazy. you’re a psycho–”
“oh, well i’m not hearing any agreement. what if i let that pretty little head think on it, yeah? come back by midnight, or you’re the one who signed hyunjin’s death certificate.”
all she could hear in the background was hyunjin’s cries and pleas for her not to listen, not to risk her own life like that. but she knew what she had to do - she had to go back. call it a hero complex, or just basic human morals, but she wouldn’t let hyunjin die if she could stop it.
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avacoleman · 6 months
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thanks @sunshinestrand for the tag. your timing truly is impeccable as i actually managed to write a little something today. still trying in vain to figure this story out, but it'll eventually find its way
“It’s supposed to be about you and me and this future I thought we were building together. God, Henry, what are you so afraid of?”
“You know what,” Henry roars back, surprising himself and Alex who falls silent at once and lets out a shaky breath.
Henry swallows hard and retreats a half step, burying his face in his hands.
“I’m so sorry, love,” he murmurs, voice catching past the burning lump in his throat. When he looks up again, gaze finding Alex, it’s through blurry tear-filled eyes as his hands fall to his sides.
He apologizes again, stepping back once more. But Alex counters and closes the gap a little. He reaches out with both hands slowly, as if Henry is a wild scared animal he wants desperately not to startle. It makes Henry feel sick to his stomach that he’s cause for concern. But he supposes it says something that Alex is even bothering at all.
It isn’t until Alex takes hold of his hands that Henry even realizes he’s trembling. He closes his eyes slowly, Alex drawing nearer the last thing he sees before he’s enveloped in a hug. 
Henry’s body relaxes at once, his mind growing quiet in the way that it only does when he’s in close proximity to Alex. Henry’s arms wrap firmly around Alex, hands splayed against his back before balling into fists as he grips.
“No, I’m sorry,” Alex says softly, fingers gently carding through Henry’s hair at the back of his head. “I can’t even imagine what you must be going through. Shit. That wasn’t fair. I’m just so mad, but not at you. Never at you, sweetheart,” he continues, dropping a kiss against Henry’s left temple.
It's far more kindness than Henry thinks he deserves for lashing out, but he clings desperately to it just as tightly as he holds onto Alex now. 
Henry buries his face in the side of Alex’s neck and breathes him in, lets the natural scent of Alex fill his lungs and cloud his mind. It can be enough for right now to drown in this over his own fear and self-doubt.
Henry exhales softly, not missing the slight tremor that runs through Alex as his breath fans against his skin.
He pulls back just enough to look Alex in the face once more. For a fraction of a second he can see the brave face Alex tries to put on before he seemingly catches on to the fact that, with Henry, there’s no need to hide or downplay what he’s feeling.
“Is this it for us?” Alex asks. Such small simple words with the power to shatter Henry’s entire world.
“I don’t want it to be,” he says. It’s not a complete answer, but it’s the truth all the same.
Alex’s forehead comes to rest against his again.
His reply must have been enough.
This, he knows, is goodbye even if neither of them give the word oxygen to breathe. He can feel it, almost like a living thing here in the room with them. But the thing about Henry is that he’s honed a particular skill that just might prove to be his saving grace. He’s long since learned how to live alongside grief. He’ll know how to mourn, hold space, and still be able to survive.
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jingerhead · 2 years
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I'm in desperate need to know more about your 'As you wish' WIP if you would like to share 💞 💞
Hello lovely! I'd love to tell you all about it hehe, this is my Princess Bride AU and honestly I'm really proud of how the planning turned out hehe. Play the WIP game with me here!
So basically, this is an enemies-to-friends-to-lovers-to-enemies-to-lovers fic. Yup. The story starts in the middle of a war between the kingdoms Moriya and Baltimore. Near the edge of the Moriya kingdom is a farm that Nicky, Andrew and Aaron live on. One day, Andrew stumbles upon a fallen soldier clinging to life and impulsively takes him back to the farm, where he's nursed back to health. The soldier introduces himself as Neil, and offers to help around the farm as payment for the cousins healing him.
Andrew puts Neil straight to work, almost trying to drive him away with what he's asking Neil to do. But Neil always does it easily, and always with a simple "As you wish". Slowly, as the weeks go on, Andrew finds himself losing his suspicion. He takes Neil around the countryside, is less harsh with his demands and begins poking at Neil's backstory until they start trading truths, and the words 'as you wish' take on a whole new meaning.
They fall for each other quickly, and this is when Neil finally breaks and tells the cousins the truth: that he's the prince of Baltimore, and that he's only keeping them in danger by staying there. He decides to leave in an attempt to put a stop to everything, promising to return once he does. While Andrew does feel betrayed at first and has little hope in his heart that Neil would be able to stop a war alone, he lets Neil go and holds onto that promise.
But before the war can end, it reaches the farm, and everything burns to the ground. Neil wasn't fast enough, and there's no evidence that any of the cousins survived. He ends up agreeing to end the war by uniting the two kingdoms, having to marry Riko to do it.
And that's all I'll say for now! Here's a little snidbit I wrote a while ago!
~*~
"He died quickly, if that brings you any comfort," The Monster said, turning his back to Nathaniel with a scoff. "I kill many people, your Highness, but there was something about him I could never forget."
Glaring at the man's back, Nathaniel began to reach for the knife hidden in an invisible pocket on his vest. "Really," he said, intending to sound just as murderous as he felt. Instead, it came out weakly, almost a whisper he was sure The Monster wouldn't hear.
"It's what he said before he died that gave me pause," The Monster continued. "All will beg for their lives when they reach the end, but he didn't make a sound."
That…certainly sounded like Andrew. Nathaniel didn't realize he was holding his breath until his chest seized, and he managed to take in air again as subtly as he could. There was a burning in the back of his throat growing more persistent by the second, and a part of Nathaniel absolutely hated that even after all this time he wasn't over that man.
"It wasn't until I raised my sword to his throat that he finally spoke. I remember he said to me: 'I need to live.'" The Monster finally turned, masked eyes gaging every reaction Nathaniel had to his words. Knowing the game being played, Nathaniel attempted to keep his expression the stony mask he was all too used to wearing by now. "I asked him why. 'Nothing', he replied."
Breath catching again, Nathaniel finally looked away from The Monster to fix his gaze on the nearest rock. It helped to keep him from standing up and running like he wanted to. He already knew he wouldn't make it far given the area was so open like this. The only place to hide was the Fire Swamp, which was nothing short of a death wish.
"And now I see exactly what he meant," The Monster goaded, though his words were laced with malice. It caught Nathaniel off guard to hear that tone, and he looked back up at the masked face before him, expecting to see fury in the man's eyes, but he still couldn't see them.
"And what did he mean?" Nathaniel growled.
"Exactly that: nothing," The Monster replied, turning back around. "You should be thanking me for keeping him from seeing just how far you've come. Tell me, Highness, when you found the ruins of that farm did you sign an engagement treaty at the same hour? Or did you wait a week out of respect for the dead?"
Rage unlike any Nathaniel had ever felt before filled him. He leapt to his feet and rushed The Monster, reaching out to roughly grab his shoulder and spin the man around while the other hand grasped his hidden knife. "Never mock me again," Nathaniel hissed. "I died that day! And you can die too, for all I care - "
Just before he could plunge the knife into The Monster's stomach, a firm hand held tightly to Nathaniel's wrist. No matter how much he struggled, Nathaniel couldn't break free from the hold, eventually dropped the knife to the ground when the grip squeezed tightly enough. Nathaniel looked up in desperation, then froze when he finally realized he could see the color of the eyes previously hidden by the mask.
"As you wish," The Monster whispered.
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thatsstringcheese · 1 year
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Spread My Wings
theseus_crowned on AO3
tw// death, accidental suicide
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tommy looked at the ground beneath him. his wings twitched on his back as he anticipated flying. surely if he were to fall he wouldn't survive. would that even matter at this point? taking in a deep breath, he stepped forward and off the edge, his eyes closed as to fight off any fear. the wind rushed around him as he fell and...
"tommy?"
he opened his eyes. bright lights yet darkness everywhere surrounded him. it was hot and cold at the same time, like the seasons were at war in front of him. his body ached and burned yet felt light. where the hell was he?
"tommy you shouldn't be here…"
he looked around desperately for the source of that oh so familiar voice. ran through the empty land that stretched seemingly infinitely. his lungs felt heavy and his feet thudded loudly, echoing around him.
"you need to leave"
as he kept running towards the voice, a rock caught his shoe and altered his trajectory, sending him crashing into the hard ground. he groaned as his body hit the dirt, his shoulder slamming into a tree root that was peeking above the soil.
"where are you? please I need to see you"
"you cant- I can't tommy you need to go home you can't stay here you're not MEANT to be here"
"I don't even know where I am!!!"
silence.
"hello?"
silence.
"tommy…"
tommy pulled himself up from where he fell, his muscles throbbing and his shoulder stinging from making connection with the hard surface.
"what did you do before you came here, tommy?"
he thought back…what WAS he doing? last he remembers he was on top of a tower and-
"oh…oh no…"
stumbling back, his mind rushed with the overwhelming reality of the situation.
"tommy what did you do?"
his knees gave out beneath him as he sank to the ground, tears beginning to spill from his eyes and pouring down his scared face.
"tommy listen to me…I need you to tell me what happened."
a sob escaped his lips as he realised everyone he would probably never get to see again, everything he'd never get to experience. as his thoughts wandered, a soft set of footsteps slowly made their way over to where he was, a cold hand placing itself onto his shoulder and kneeling down beside him.
"wilbur…wilbur I made a horrible mistake…I did something I can't undo. something I never should have attempted."
wilbur had heard this before. from himself, about 5 years ago now, back when he first got here. he'll never forget that day. it haunted him all those years and wasn't going to stop anytime soon. he couldn't let tommy go through that as well. he wouldn't be able to look at himself the same way again if tommy had to go through what he experienced. he pulled the boy close and wrapped his arms around him, the younger sobbing harder and clinging to him like he was going to fade away if he let go. the scary thing is where they are right now that's a very real and terrifying possibility.
through sobs, tommy managed to get out a few vague words. 'up', 'wings', 'fly', 'ground'. It didn't take a genius to figure out what happened. it also didn't take a genius to know that when tommy was…alive…he had no wings. not that tommy knew. he always believed he had wings. noone would've dared to tell him otherwise.
"oh tommy…mate…it's okay. you're not alone here. I'm here for you, always."
wilburs heart ached. he knew that wasn't true. he was sure tommy knew as well. but for now, it was all they had to hold on to. he'd been here for too long already. noone stays here forever, it's rare. its even rarer for someone to leave this place. even their mother couldn't help them. this place was out of her reach, out of her domain. they could beg for her all they wanted, she wasn't coming.
as they sat there, the void around them seemed to whisper unheard words, life sprouting from nowhere. they were going to have to find a way out of this, lest they cease to exist altogether.
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soobnny · 2 years
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don’t go — yang jungwon. classmates to lovers. zombie apocalypse au. fluff and angst. 
synopsis. you never would’ve expected meeting your class president under these circumstances, but here you are, in a barricaded classroom with your hand in his. when night falls and the undead sound a little quieter, jungwon makes it his responsibility to check for any possible routes of escape, but it’s a little hard when you’re begging him not to go (1.7k words)
go to “all of us are dead” series masterlist
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“I’m scared.”
The sound of heavy footsteps is all you hear, echoing around your school hallways in senseless direction and stretching all the way towards the staircase. At least, it’s all you hear from where you’re hidden with Jungwon, just a few meters from the things that roam the halls. 
“Jungwon, I’m so scared.”
Your temporary sanctuary is in a locked classroom, windows and doors barricaded to keep a barrier between the pair of you and the undead. It’s dusty, and your only notable memory of the place is crying while having to push at the bodies of the people who used to be your classmates, the ones you had to kill if you wanted to survive. 
They weren’t who they used to be, is what you repeat in your head over and over as you try to justify your actions. And yet, flashes of memory still sneak their way in. You refuse to acknowledge them, afraid of getting killed if you let yourself get distracted by who they were before they turned.
Everything had happened in a flash, you don’t even remember much. It passes you like a blur - the screams, finding the warmth of a hand, running away until you couldn’t catch your breath anymore, and shoving yourselves into any room you found that was unoccupied. Now, it’s almost a day later and you’re left wondering what your plan of action was supposed to be.
You lean against Jungwon, desperately trying to reassure yourself that you still had someone. Not that you and the class president were necessarily close before this had happened. You’ve only shared brief interactions in class, or when you were tasked to bring papers into the Council office with him, or even short greetings in the hallways. Nothing more than simple hello’s and small waves.
Now, you’re clinging onto him with the prospect of never letting him go. 
“Are you okay?” He’s asked you this several times within the day, and all you can really do is nod. You don’t really know the answer yourself, but given the circumstances, being alive was more than enough to consider that you were okay. 
Jungwon has his head leaned against yours and he’s holding onto your hand just as tight as he did when he was pulling you down the hallways, seeking for safety. You reason that he was just like you - he needed something indicative of being constant. 
Did he witness losing a friend just like you did? Did he feel just as guilty as you when you had to kill the people you used to spend every day with?
“You know, if we’re the last people we’ll ever see, you might as well call me Wonie. All my close friends used to call me Wonie…” The latter comes out in a pained whisper as if he was tired of remembering that his friends were gone. 
“Don’t say that, Jungwon.” 
“Wonie.”
You sigh, pulling your head away to take a good look at the boy seated beside you. His appearance looked dusty, blood sprawled across his uniform, and he had a small cut on his cheek. Albeit, hidden in specs of concrete and ash. “We’ll make it out of here, Wonie.”
He smiles at the mention of his nickname. 
“I can’t believe we’re meeting each other under these circumstances.” His voice is barely above a whisper, and you feel him playing with your hand - intertwining your fingers together before untangling them and intertwining them again. 
You laugh humourlessly at the intimacy of the action. If the circumstances were anything but, you’d probably be blushing and stuttering over your own words at the feel of his hand in yours. But you knew, behind your miserable attempts of keeping things lighthearted, you two were just as distraught as the other. 
You hadn’t heard or seen anyone else that was alive on this floor and the events were just starting to dawn on the both of you again. 
Your unsuccessful attempt at escaping earlier was one of the scariest experiences of your life, a close second to the outbreak almost a day ago, and the look of horror on Jungwon’s face when he almost lost you was something you never wanted to see again. His strained voice yelling at you to run when he was finally able to pry the zombie that had previously been atop of you echos in your head over and over.
When the room falls silent, you risk another glance at Jungwon. He looks nothing but pained and confused, eyes stern and lips pressed together in a straight line. It hurt seeing him like this, but you knew better than to disturb him when you knew he was thinking of how to get you two out of there.
“Does it sound quieter to you?” You sit up a little straighter, trying to hear more from the hallways outside. He was right, the sound of heavy footsteps you had heard earlier was now reduced to lighter footsteps - you think, maybe they were moving elsewhere. 
“Yeah… is it time?” It stings when he meets your eyes. Jungwon can see the fear flash in them when you realize that it might be time to attempt to escape again. He breaks eye contact with you as soon as he meets your eyes, staring straight ahead of the empty classroom instead. 
“I’ll go alone.”
His words prompt you to pull your hand away from his. “What?”
“I’ll go alone. I’ll try to inspect the floor, see if anyone else is still alive, and see where we could possibly escape from, and I’ll come back to you.”
“Jungwon, you’re not going alone.”
“I’ve made my decision, and I’m going alone. Look, I’m not coming close to losing you again. You’re all I have left.” He sucks his cheeks, and you can hear the slight tremble in his voice. He’s very clearly fighting back a few tears from falling. “I– I almost lost you a few hours ago.”
“Wonie, you aren’t going to lose me.” Your voice breaks as you pull him into your arms. He sucks in a deep breath, clinging onto your blouse and leaving prints of blood where he had your uniform bunched up in his fists. “Stop it. I’m coming with you.” You feel your own body start to shake, and you don’t know where to put your hands, and your eyes are stinging a little bit from the dust and tears building up. 
“No, you’re not.” 
“Jungwon, please.” You try to say, but all that leaves your mouth is a hideous sob. He pulls away from your embrace, half-heartedly laughing as he wipes his tears away before moving to wipe yours. “Don’t go. This isn't fair.” You hope the pained expression on your face is enough to make him stay.
Your face breaks further when you realize that he isn’t listening to you, and Jungwon can hear his own heart shatter into pieces. “What if I’m the one who loses you?” You no longer try to fight back the tears that gather at your eyes, and everything seems a little blurry to you. 
Jungwon shakes his head, shushing you quietly as he holds your face gently in his hands, continuing to wipe at the tears falling down your cheeks. 
“I have to do this. I promise I’ll be back.” He tries to put on a smile to at least comfort you for a few minutes. “No, no. Don’t, please just let me come with you. I can’t have you going out there alone. Please, Jungwon. I— If you don’t want me to go, then just stay with me. Please stay here, for me.”
He falters, hearing your voice crack and feeling your harsh grip around his wrists. 
“Hey, hey, _______. Stop crying, I’ll come back. Stop crying, please.” You shake your head at him, and he’s pressing his lips against your cheeks in an attempt to calm you down. “I have to go. Come on, give me a smile. I don’t like seeing you cry.” 
“I can’t, Jungwon.” You sniffle.
“Come on, just a small smile so I know you’re okay.” You blink up at him through your tears, hands still clinging desperately around his. You can see the tear stains from his own cheeks and the redness tainting his nose (you don’t have to look at the mirror to know you probably look the same).
“Well, what if I’m not okay with you leaving? Just let me come with you, or stay here with me. Please, let’s do it together.” You’re stuttering over your own words and Jungwon moves to hold your face back in his hands, looking deeply into your eyes.
“I’ll be back.” He repeats.
You break into another sob and Jungwon pulls you in for a short embrace, planting a kiss on top of your head. “I promise I’ll make it back. You can count on me.” He speaks a little louder, more sternly but his actions contradict that of his tone as he caresses your face gently, rocking both of your bodies back and forth.
“You better come back.” You sniff, wiping at your nose and inhaling a deep breath. 
“I will, hey, look at me?” He wills you to look at him, tilting his head to try and catch your eye. You feel the same sharp sting when you hold his gaze. “I promise I’ll come back for you.” 
You nod your head, and he places one last firm kiss on your forehead before he pulls away and gathers the things he needs to search for help and if he’s lucky, any more survivors. 
“Stay right here, okay?” You gulp, but you nod at his words again. “Let me hear your pretty voice.” 
“I don’t know what to say.” You find a hint of a smile form on Jungwon’s lips when you speak to him again. Knowing you’ve stopped crying, he feels it’s ready to go, so he moves to set aside the things in the barricade. 
He feels a set of arms wrap around him from behind and he feels himself stop breathing. Jungwon vows to himself to make it back to you no matter what.
When he turns around one last time to look at you, you make an effort to force a smile on your face. If this was the last time he’ll ever see you again, you want the last thing he’ll remember to be a smile and what you hope to be genuine concern in your eyes. 
Tonight, you say goodbye to Jungwon - and hope to say ‘hello’ to him again in a few hours.
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beneathashadytree · 3 years
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Can i get some really sappy extra in love Bertholdt smut, like he just told his beloved hes the colossal and she assured him she'll always love him and accepts him for who he is and it leads to really emotional love making with maybe a little breeding kink too? I love Bert so much and deserves the world
BITTERSWEET (PART 1) - BERTHOLDT HOOVER X READER
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Warnings : this is a canon-divergent AU, Bertholdt is 20 in this and survived, same applies to the reader, making out, a bit of groping, mild nipple play, grinding, loving sex, mating press, breeding kink, reader is a female!
Genre : smut, lots of angst, fluff too
Word count : 6.5K (uh oh)
Synopsis : Bertholdt's sins were uncountable and immeasurable, but so was the love she had for him---even if it was 4 years later.
Additional notes : I'm so sorry, this took me so long to write but I found myself unable to stop, and I got carried away! I hope you enjoy this, your feedback would mean a lot to me! PS: this is not proofread (oops).
Click here for part 2
Requests : Are open! Check the rules over here.
Want to support me financially? Here’s my CashApp!
Masterlist
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Bertholdt's survival came with a price that left a bitter taste in his mouth that would never wash away---and that was the fact that his blatant betrayal had been left wide open for people to see and slowly tear apart for inspection. Even during his absence from a scene, the fact that he was none other than the Colossal titan that had terrorized the lands of those he'd grown to consider as friends was an indisputable fact that people grew furious at and cursed on the daily. He was well aware of that much, and he couldn't run away from it. His desperation to cling onto his life had been rewarded with having his comrades snatch him away before any altercation could've happened. The risk was far too great for them to leave him with the original plan in Shiganshina for too long, seeing as the scouts were clearly intent on finishing them all off. With Zeke so heavily injured by none other than Captain Levi, Pieck had been forced to drag his mangled body along with Bertholdt's steaming torso on her cart titan's back with much difficulty, seeing as Reiner had to be rescued as well, and the extra weight to lug was nothing to laugh at. But Bertholdt's cries of despair hinted at something far more important; something urgent that needed his warrior friends' immediate help.
"Her, bring her along!" he'd practically screamed his head off before Pieck had covered much of a distance, and after a few moments of hesitation, she'd turned on her heel, titan leaping into the air amidst the horrified yells and the sound of snapping bones, before she came back, bounding with the girl's unconscious body held limply between her rows of teeth.
That had all happened when he was a mere 16 year old who'd been thrust into a world he shouldn't have been born into. A teenager who'd been burdened with a mission that left him mutilated and tattered, presumed for dead more often than not when people stumbled upon his hospital bed, steam rising from his limbless body as his howls of pain tore through the night, agonizing his friends (who really weren't that much better off) who could listen in on his garbled voice through the paper-thin walls. He cried for himself; for his doomed fate that had been further sealed since his return from the island, for his father who was forced to see him in that limbless state and beat himself up for sending him to meet his end, and above all, for his dear, sweet lover who'd been dragged along to the land of hell, where they'd be treated like a spawn of the devil himself. It's not like falling in love with her had been on his agenda. If anything, Bertholdt had come to terms with the fact that---amongst all his warrior friends, that is---he was the least likely to find the courage to seek affection from someone he fancied; let alone have them reciprocate his feelings. And yet somehow, the ever-shy boy had found himself pining after a certain girl who'd had him wrapped around his finger, much to Annie's dismay as she'd reprimand him for mingling too much with the enemy. However, it was all useless; after all, he'd long had his heart set on her, and it had become near impossible to tear his eyes away from her. Bertholdt was lovesick, and even the somewhat-daft Reiner was able to spot his fond gaze miles away. Of course it had only been a matter of time before his affections had overflowed, and he found himself stumbling in front of the barracks' doorstep to blurt out that he'd had a crush on her for quite a while now.
After he'd grimaced, expecting a brutal rejection, he'd been pleasantly surprised to find that she returned the feeling, even opting to cup his cheek and press a chaste kiss to his lips, before leaving him dumbfounded with the lingering scent of her perfume. His momentary bravery had indeed been rewarded with something so big, so new, and so exciting that he didn't know what to do with his budding relationship with the cadet who'd captured his heart. The days had bloomed into weeks and soon months, and the upcoming disasters had yet to fall, but Bertholdt wasn't blind to the fact that the truth would inevitably come out, and that the young love that had sprouted between them would be flattened to dust in no time. The sweet kisses, the warm embraces, the midnight strolls that nearly always got them in trouble with the scouts' top brass---all would come crashing down the very moment he'd reveal his true identity as the Colossal titan, and soon the mission he'd come to finish became the one thing he dreaded more than anything. And for good reason as well---because the horrified expression he saw amidst the blinding yellow light as he transformed ontop of the wall was a sight he wished he could erase from his memories. The mere thought of them harboring enough hatred towards him to pull such a face was something that hauntef him, day in, day out. Knowing that it was irreversible sent his mind into a frenzy, because no matter what, he would never be able to turn back time to when they doted over him, and even admired him for the kindness and gentleness he knew he didn't possess. Perhaps seeing her like that was punishment for his sins, but for the first time in his sorry life, Bertholdt wished that he could repent once and for all.
And perhaps he'd vainly thought that stringing her along to the homeland would solve all his problems; that time would be kind to him and on his side, but alas, nothing could've been farther from the truth. Even after having healed enough to consider himself a proper human being once more, he was force into nursing his emotional wounds when Pieck had told him (with the most genuinely sympathetic face she could muster) that his lover had thrown a fit at the mention of his name, crying and clawing at the walls of her confinement as though she were trying to grasp at her sanity. Her vehement refusal to even spare a glance at his face was something he absolutely deserved, but still wasn't prepared to face.
At that, he went into hiding. Not the most discrete hiding either, since he still frequented his old man's house, even as his health deteriorated, and since he was still forced to endure hours of training that almost had him regurgitating with the sheer intensity, but for the most part, he made his presence scarce. Avoidance of his beloved girl soon turned into running away from the woman he adored, as the years slowly crept by. More than well aware of how fast his clock was ticking, he found his heart aching at the notion of trying to help her forget he'd ever existed, when all he truly wanted was to burrow into her chest and seek her endless comfort that he'd so selfishly preyed upon in his teenage years. The Bertholdt that stood now in the balcony of one of the many marble rooms of HQ, dragging a smoke out of his cigarette and absent-mindedly scratching at the stubble he hadn't cared much to maintain, was now a 20 year-old, fully-fledged honorary Marleyan that still found himself swimming in doubts and regrets whenever he let his thoughts wander to the years he spent on Paradis Island, as they often did.
He watched on as the four warriors-in-training that resembled a certain bunch of misfits in their youth did their best to outrun each other, the bickering loud enough for him to hear. What could be taken for a smile made its way onto the brunette's face, Gabi and Falco yet again quarreling for the most idiotic of reasons as they always did. With another sharp inhale of nicotine, he turned on his heel and trudged back into the room that was too quiet for him to handle when he was feeling so melancholic. His head only regained some semblance of peace when he wound up in his bedroom close to an hour later, the small house somewhat lifeless with his father being hospitalized yet again. He wasn't exactly looking forward to living with only his thoughts, but at least he wouldn't be surrounded by children that reminded him an awful lot of his younger days that had been shattered to pieces. At times like this, all he wanted was to press rewind, only to listen to saccharine words from the one girl he loved the most.
Two urgent knocks sounded on his door, interrupting his wistful sighing on the bed, and he couldn't find it in him to feel irritated. Scratching his stomach lazily, causing his shirt to rise and reveal a sliver of olive skin, his ministrations were put to an immediate halt the very moment he flung his door open. He could only gape at the silhouette fron the past that stood before him, hand dropping to rest at his side as he stiffened up considerably, muscles tensing as he struggled to figure out if this was yet another figment of his imagination or reality.
"Um, may I come in?" the polite voice was something foreign he'd never thought he'd hear again, and yet here he was.
It took him a couple of moments before he could respond, nervously nodding and audibly gulping, "Yeah, make yourself at home."
As the door shut behind her, he could swear his entire body went numb as tingles spread throughout. When had she filled out like this, body maturing into that of a woman who showed up on his doorstep in the middle of the day? When had her hair grown so luscious? When had her skin started to glow as she grew healthier than she'd ever been? All these changes were ones he wasn't prepared for, and the sudden way his world was turned upside down was something he didn't know how he felt about---all he knew was that she was now taking a seat on the edge of his bed, summer dress billowing out underneath her---yet another thing that was unlike how he remembered her. He didn't know where to look. Her eyes? But they were far too sharp and intense for him to meet. Her face? Far too distracting with the ethereal beauty she now possessed that he'd never even dreamed of seeing firsthand in his 20s. His lap? That would be cowardly of him, and his line of vision might stray to her thighs sitting too close to his---a sinful thought that had bile rising in his throat at the sheer lewdness of his racing mind. And yet, somehow, when she parted her glossy lips to speak up once again, he found it entirely natural to meet her gaze.
"It's been four years, Bertholdt," her voice was quieter than he'd expected, having awaited an angry tone to come from her, and the sound of his name falling from her lips was almost foreign.
Swallowing thickly, he fiddled with his fingers, "Since... then. Yeah."
She eyed his room, from the half-opened window and the wilting hyacinth on its sill, to the tattered books on the lopsided shelf that threatened to break off the wall bracket, "A lot has changed, I can see," her scanning stopped at the small bedside table, "I didn't know you smoked."
"Only recently," he slumped over, "Bad habit, I know, but Zeke---" pausing, he realized that she probably had no idea who the other Yeager was. He was about to launch into a lengthy explanation, when she finished his sentence.
"Your war chief. Eren's half-brother. Go on."
Without so much as batting an eye they spoke, and Bertholdt grew stunned. Just how much had they learned over the past few years? Never mind that, who taught them?
His shock must've been easy to read, because she arched an eyebrow, leaning back a little, "You don't think I've been kept in the dark this entire time, do you?"
"Who's been letting you in on things?" He frowned, the hidden question in his words being picked up on by the woman he held so dear to his heart.
Her eyes softened, after having understood the real intent behind his question, "No one. I had to teach myself, and when things got too confusing, I familiarized myself with Porco and Pieck, so I could seek them out for help whenever," it was her turn to look away, biting her lip, "I couldn't stand to see your face or Reiner's, so meeting these two was a stroke of luck, I suppose. Zeke caused too much damage for me to feel comfortable with meeting him, as grateful as I am for him having brought me to Marley."
He looked away, mumbling, "You didn't seem happy at all when you first came here."
A look of shock crossed her face, "You came to me? I don't recall anything like that."
Shaking his head, Bertholdt awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, "Didn't have the guts to see you when I knew how you probably felt around me. I just wanted to check up on you, so I'd talk to Pieck in front of your hospital room. She'd fill me in on your condition," his eyes were glossy when he finally met hers, "Hearing your screams hurt like hell."
The saddened woman touched her armband absent-mindedly, and Bertholdt was reminded with the fact that while he was slightly privileged, she must've been treated like the rest of the 'scum' of the internment zone. His fingers reached out for a second, before the look in his eyes asked for permission. She nodded silently, and he touched the tattered material, thumbing it as bitterness rose in his throat.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his vision blurry as tears threatened to escape, "It's all my fault, y-you were thrown into this, and you have to-to stay with us even after we tore down your home. I don't---I wish---I'd never," he gasped, fingers trembling as he clutched the armband, almost tearing it as he began to cry freely, regretting the very day he'd been born.
His grip on the wretched material grew impossibly tight, the tears falling and dripping down onto her lap, splashing as his head bowed down, unable to stop them from coming. Once the floodgates were opened, he couldn't stop them, body shaking as he sobbed pitifully. Arms encircled him all of a sudden, tugging him closer by the nape of the neck. A small sound of surprise made its way out of his throat, and---too stunned to react much---his body complied to the pull, falling into a warm embrace he could swear he'd completely forgotten how it felt. Head tentatively resting in the crook of her neck, he breathed heavily, inhaling the calming scent of chamomile and her perfume in his home. His skin crawled with the familiarity, and Bertholdt found himself speechless in her hold. She only hugged him closer to her, the height difference between them a little bit of a hindrance, but endearing nonetheless. Small hands rubbed the expanse of his back, gently drawing circles onto the broad muscle, tensing up even under the fabric of his t-shirt, before he slowly began to relax. Even after all this time, her touch still somehow felt achingly familiar.
"When did you grow even taller," she sounded muffled and choked up against his mussed up hair, and yet he could detect undeniable fondness in her voice; he wondered what he did to deserve that.
Bertholdt didn't know what to say, trying to even out his shaky breathing so he could stop crying. All he wanted was to relish in the feeling of intimacy that she granted him; a feeling he'd missed dearly but never dared to speak of. He sniffled, hands clenching into fists, "I want to look at you. To get closure."
With a small nod, she pulled back, her dainty hands resting on his bicep and causing his stomach to flutter at the direct contact with his warm skin. She looked so beautiful he could hardly stare at her without wondering if she still tasted the same, and he internally chastised himself for thinking that when it really wasn't the time.
"I've had time to think since that day," she said, a kind half-smile on her face, "I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't at all heartbroken over the prospect of you being the traitor," she gave a bitter laugh, and shame crept up Bertholdt's spine at the hurt that resounded, "Especially when you seemed to change 180 degrees during our return to Shiganshina."
"I know you didn't want to see me," he gulped, looking off to the side, "I didn't offer to even look you in the eye."
Shaking her head, she clasped his hands in hers, urgency in her eyes, "I didn't care about that. What hurt more was that you acted like we'd all sinned by being born."
He remained quiet, the memory of him shunning Armin and the others still fresh in his mind. The argument they'd had over the battered rooftops was one that played on loop every night before he went to bed, serving as a reminder as to why he really was the lowest of the low. Sighing, she squeezed his huge palms in a manner that was almost comforting, "Then I soon grew to realize that that really was what you were taught to believe. That we were hellspawn, born into a world where we could only serve as antagonists," her kind smile returned, and Bertholdt could swear his breath hitched in his throat, "You never held anything against us personally. You were just kids on a mission that was just larger than life, sent by superiors that asked for too much of you, weren't you?"
"We were told we'd bring glory to our families," he spoke in a small voice, "I wanted to help treat my father. He never deserved to be treated like the scum of the earth."
"Neither did you."
His head shot up from staring at their conjoined hands, opting to stare at her incredulously, "I murdered hundreds of thousands of people, trampled over cities, hell, I'm the reason your parents died---"
"You weren't given a choice," she spoke firmly, annoyance seeping into her words, "The world in Marley was harsh and unforgiving, and you happened to grow up there. You didn't know any better. For God's sake, Bertholdt, you were only 12. You definitely weren't prepared to defy orders or even be free-thinking at that point."
"That doesn't erase any of my sins!" he cried out, agitation apparent as he slammed his fist into his thigh, "Just because I didn't know the truth doesn't mean that I can just erase the past 8 years of my life. This doesn't wash my hands clean of blood."
"And you expect it to?" she calmly asked, waiting for an answer she knew would never come, before bravely reaching up to rest her palm against his blushing cheek, the scruff rubbing against her skin and earning a gentle quirk of her lips as she caressed him, "What's done is done, Bertl. I don't know a lot, but at least I've come to terms with what's happened. Even if I can't speak for others, I've forgiven you for the crimes you did against my own family and the people I love. I've forgiven the child that was never given a chance to live out his years. That much I know for sure."
The man could swear his heart clenched in his chest. She'd uttered the words he'd never thought he'd hear from her---words of forgiveness; implications of granting yet another chance for him to feel human once again, even if he wasn't strictly so. Even if he knew he was the monster he saw every time he glanced in the direction of the mirror, at least he could unload the burden of knowing he'd shattered his lover's heart. He'd at least believe that one woman saw him as a helpless man who'd shouldered responsibilities greater than he could handle, offering bloodshed in return for a chance at living---a pathetic person, yes, but still flesh and blood; still weak. As he struggled to formulate words, the intensity of her gaze on him pinned him in place. Growing more and more self-aware as the seconds passed, he found himself subconsciously scanning every inch of her face, inspecting every new birthmark that reminded him of just how much time had passed, every minute scar on her skin that he must've failed to notice in his teenage years. The urge to fall into her grew too strong and too distracting for him to even remember what he'd wanted to say. He could only blurt out a single question in the yearning haze of his head.
"May I kiss you? Please?"
His almost-beg didn't catch her off-guard, because all she did was slowly lean in and nod in tandem. Unable to hold back, Bertholdt found himself throwing his arms around her, and planting his lips on hers, one hand gently squeezing the nape of her neck while the other secured her back. She tasted even sweeter than he remembered. More alluring; more addictive.
The groan that escaped his lips was one he couldn't help, the plumpness of her damp ones numbing his entire body, thoughts of her and her only invading his mind. Like he'd been starved of his favorite meal, his tongue was desperately licking at every crevice of her mouth, tasting and entwining with hers. Breathing heavily as she clouded his senses, his entire body jerked when she daringly nipped at his bottom lip while pulling away, a string of saliva connecting their panting mouths.
"Shit," he hissed, swallowing her chuckles with a kiss as his hands began to daringly wander, one ghosting against her throat, teasing yet loving in the absent-minded manner he did it, his other palm digging into the soft flesh of her hips, knee knocking her legs open without a single thought as their mouths slotted against each other over and over again, falling into a cycle of endless biting and licking and gentle sucking, his mind to fuzzy to fully process the fact that he was making out with the woman he'd dreamt of every night of the last 5 years or so. Only when the need to breath overpowered the desire to kiss her swollen lips did he dare to pull away, grip on her waist tightening as though afraid she'd disappear.
"I'm here to stay, if you'll let me," she mumbled against his lips, as though having read his mind, and Bertholdt could only moan at the possibilities that raced through his mind when she spoke again, "I want you, if you'll have me."
"You have no idea," he breathed, before tugging her down with a strength he didn't know he even possessed.
She gave a startled hum, before allowing herself to fall ontop of him, her lips finding his in no time, their chest brushing against each other, her body writhing as he palmed her ass, in a way he never imagined he'd see. Positively sinful she was, and yet he couldn't see her as anything less than an angel sent from heaven to save his wretched soul.
The thought made him push her off of him for a moment despite her confusion and lidded eyes, only to whisper those three words.
"I love you."
And with every press of her lips against his, she spelled them back.
"I," Kiss, "Love," Kiss, "You," Kiss, "Still."
Clutching at the lace front of her dress, Bertholdt let a sound that sounded embarrassingly like a whimper, hooked nose pressing into her neck, inhaling her sweetness as he tried to ground himself, so overwhelmed with affection and unbridled want.
"Could you?" Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed, he gave a gentle tug at the fabric, in a silent plea.
Kissing the corner of his lips, she gave him a captivating smile, "Only if you will."
With an eagerness he didn't know he possessed, he sat upright for a few moments, hurriedly stripping down to just his underwear and flushing as she eyed him from head to toe.
"Still as handsome as ever," she dreamily said, leaning into pepper kisses to his jaw, seemingly enjoying how hard he was blushing, before pulling away to slowly undress herself.
With every inch of plush skin she exposed to him, Bertholdt could feel his boxers grow tighter. It was almost embarrassing; just how turned on he was by the mere idea of her standing in front of him, breathtaking body all for his viewing only. All curves and indentations, edges and lines that only he could trace with his trembling fingers, the fabric of her panties and bra almost taunting him.
He swore under his breath, "I can't take my eyes off you," he gently pulled her by the wrist, "Please, I want to make up for wasted time."
There wasn't a need to say more; she found herself plopped onto his lap seconds later, grinding into his erection as she slowly kissed down his long neck, suckling at the warm skin and leaving hickeys in her wake, even the column of his throat littered with the blooming purple marks, "You look so different now. I can't believe it's your body I'm kissing now."
Head thrown back in pleasure, he bucked his hips as her clothed pussy dragged against his boner, "Yeah?" he breathed, "Good different?"
She shook her head as she pulled away to unhook her bra, and before he could momentarily panic, she spoke again, "Perfect different. Like you were made for my eyes only."
Stealing the words from his mouth was a skill she was expert at, it seemed---but all he could do was enjoy the wanton moan that escaped her lips as he cupped her breasts gently, pinching her nipples experimentally and falling in love with the way she whined, warmth pooling in his stomach as she wriggled out of her underwear eagerly.
"That feels nice?" he gently asked, watching carefully as her eyes screwed in pleasure, nodding quickly, "Good, I want you to feel good with me."
"I'm just happy, hah," she breathed in sharply at a particular twist of her sensitive nipple, "That I'm doing this with you."
"You thought about us?" he kissed her temple deftly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, before carefully repositioning their bodies so she could fall onto the bed on her back, hair splayed out beneath her in a way that couldn't be described as anything less than angelic.
"Yeah," she shyly grinned, a light blush dusting her cheeks, "I missed you. Every day, actually. Even when I was livid, I didn't miss you any less."
The tug at his heart demanded him to get closer, to drink her in until he's drunk on her very essence. He couldn't wait any longer, and---with a hint of impatience---he hurried to undress and toss his briefs off the bed.
Cautiously lowering himself ontop of her, he nuzzled her neck, before gently digging his teeth into the inviting skin, "I never stopped thinking about you," one hand caught her wrist tightly, the other danced around her free palm, fingers tracing the lines, "Dreams, nightmares... you were always on my mind."
"Did you ever find someone else?" came her tentative question, to which Bertholdt replied by giving her a mind-blowing hungry kiss, tongue pressing against her teeth.
"Never."
His cock rested against her hipbone, and he didn't dare to make any move, as though fearing he'd break her if he did.
"You're not heavy," she reassured him, hand reaching up to cup his handsome face, "You can rest your weight on me."
With an insistent shake of his head, he chose to entwine his hands with both of hers, pinning her successfully underneath him and resting his weight on his arms, stilling for a second to engrave the picture of her beautiful naked body in his bed in his memory. He was, at the end of the day, living on borrowed time.
"If my intentions haven't been made clear, I want to make love to you," his voice was as soothing as he could muster in an attempt to hide the nerves that were creeping up on him, "So please, let me cater to your needs."
With an exasperated sigh, she smiled up at him and pulled him by the neck for another open-mouthed kiss, "This isn't about what I need," she muttered against his bitten lips, "I want to do this, because I've been yearning for you for so long. I want to be this intimate with you."
Once again rendered speechless by her, she giggled sweetly at him, reaching up and nipping at his earlobe, as she whispered "I don't need any prep, believe me, you've turned me on enough."
Almost stunned by her words and the lewd implications behind them, he groaned, unable to take it anymore, fingers digging into her wrist as his other hand coaxed his cock near her entrance. The head weeping with precum, he wondered how he'd managed to have that much self-control to take things slow so far---but then again, maybe it was because he was so enamored by every inch of her that he hadn't paid much mind to the desire brewing in the pit of his stomach, something far stronger than the butterflies he'd felt for her during his teenage years. Giving himself two strokes, her free hand impatiently tugged him closer by the back.
"Please, let me show you just how much I care for you," she whispered, stroking the soft hairs on his chin as her hand traced his jawline.
That was all the reassurance Bertholdt needed to dispel any worries that had been buried deep inside him. With a small hiss, he guided his cock inside her glistening folds, his tip collecting her essence and knocking into the underside of her clit, earning a jolt from her pliant body.
"I just want to make sure you'll be fine," he hushed her protests gently, before lining himself up against her pulsating hole, the head pushing inside her with a pop.
They both seemed to be sweating profusely in the spring afternoon, and they'd barely even done anything of any significance. But perhaps their restraint and the dormant feelings they'd harbored all these years only served as a trigger, and with a wanton moan, Bertholdt couldn't stop himself from burying himself inside her to the hilt in one careful but impatient stroke into her tightness. She visibly winced, and it took every ounce of self-restraint in him to stop and check up on her, a worried, 'You alright, love?' escaping his lips before he could worry about the pet name that had come out.
Too preoccupied with checking for other signs of discomfort, he waited until she gave him a nod of her head, sharply inhaling as he began to pull out. She seemed to engulf him, her insides almost sucking him in, his girth stretching her out enough for there to be slight pain mingled with pleasure. Snapping his hips once more, he pushed inside her throbbing heat, a moan tumbling from her lips as the veins of his cock dragged along her sensitive walls.
"Feels so good, can't," she panted, words failing her as her grip tightened on the hands that pinned her down, "You feel so good."
Bertholdt shuddered, muscles tensing as he began to find the rhythm fitting their joint pleasure, the sound of damp skin slapping with every thrust so erotic it pulled an embarrassingly loud moan from him, "You were made for me, fuck. I don't know how I stayed away this long."
Whimpering as his pounding grew more intense and pressing her body against the mattress, her pussy fluttered around him. Feeling her squeeze his cock like that, he swore he lost his mind.
"Bertl, shit, I'm not gonna last," she moaned, squeezing her eyes shut, tears collecting on her lashes, "Feels too good---fuck, 'm love you," her voice was garbled as she tried to take a shuddering breath, only for a particularly deep thrust of his cock to send her head lolling to the side, "Wanna cum with you, please, shit," dragging out the curse, she dug her nails into the back of his hand.
Stilling for a half-second as he processed the words she just spoke, he could almost feel himself growing impossibly harder at the very thought of cumming inside her at the same moment she'd clamp around him.
He didn't have much time in his term left, maybe a year or so, and he desperately wanted to leave her with a memory she'd never forget of him. If he had it his way, she'd have a piece of him on her always, and the fleeting thought of fucking a child into her drove him wild; for the few split-seconds he pictured her swollen with the baby they created had his mind reeling and his cock throbbing inside her.
On a whim, he loosened his hold on her hands, strong arms carefully pushing her legs by the knees, "This uncomfortable for you?" he grunted, vision hazy with lust as his blood pulsed
"No, this is just fine, but c'mon, please, I was so close---mph!"
Capturing her lips in a numbing kiss was a good idea, as he began drilling into her much deeper than he had before. He could even see her tummy bulging as she struggled her best to take his cock at that angle, whining when he pulled away and swiped at her glossy bottom lip.
"Fuck, I can feel you all the way over here," she babbled, too far gone as she pressed down on her protruding stomach, "You're amazing, shit."
As he picked up the pace and drove his cock inside her so deep her pussy clenched around him multiple times, he could barely articulate the words, "Wanna cum inside, that ok with you?"
She could only nod frantically, her hands desperately clutching at the bedsheets, almost enough to tear them, "Yes! Please, please wanna feel your warmth, please, I'm so in love with you."
His hands firmly gripping the backs of her thighs with every time they shook with his thrusts, he could feel her pulsating around him, enough to know that she was getting close.
"Want you to carry my kids," he groaned, dipping his head down to bite down on her glistening shoulder, "You'll be a perfect mother, know you will," his words began to lose coherence, "Shit!"
"Love this," she cried, pulling him by the nape so he could collapse ontop of her, his thrusts growing erratic at the same time her legs began quivering, "Love you."
"God fucking damn it, I love you like hell, more than any fucking thing," he moaned her name out like a mantra or a prayer to the gods, squeezing his eyes shut as he couldn't stop thinking of how beautiful she was when she was cumming around him and professing her love to him.
Right after her body had shook in his arms as she reached her climax, back almost arching off the bed, he reached his own high, a loud groan leaving his lips as he spilled his seed inside her, giving a few slow strokes that had her whimpering from the overstimulation, before he finally came to a stop. Very carefully, as though handling a precious artifact that could break any second, he eased her legs back to their normal position around his hips. Slowly, he pulled out of her, watching as his cum seeped out of her gaping hole, the sight enough to have him stirring again, but he breathed out heavily to still the racing lewd thoughts in his brain.
"Are your legs cramping?" he gently asked, kneading her calf cautiously, only to have her shake her head.
"Just a little spent and sore," she admitted in a croaky voice, and he immediately reached over to his nightstand to give her his water bottle.
With a small 'thank you', she took a few sips, before settling down.
"I should get myself cleaned up," heaving, she began to push herself up, only to have the brunette ease her back into lying down.
"Shush, you're tired," he softly brushed her hair back from her sweaty forehead, the kiss he left on her warm skin completely contradicting the way his long fingers pressed inside her sopping pussy to make sure that not a drop of his cum would be wasted, unable to take the image of her pregnancy out of his head, "Let's stay like this for a bit, ok?".
He didn't have to say it, but she knew what was on his mind, and when he lied down to hold her back against his broad chest, she could detect the reason behind his desperation.
Twisting her head around, she pecked his soft lips, "I'm not going anywhere. I'll still be here after we take a nap."
His grip tightened around her, "I just... I don't want you to regret this."
In vehement refutal of his words, she sweetly kissed him thrice in a row, "I'll never. I meant it when I said that I still love you."
"I'm not a good man."
"I don't care about that anymore."
"We separated years ago."
"And yet you could never tell that."
"I'm not staying for long."
"We'll figure it out."
"I don't have---"
Interrupting yet another one of his anxiety-ridden observations, she shifted to face him, pulling him in her arms so she could snuggle into his chest, allowing herself to be completely enveloped by his presence.
"You've always been such a worrywart," she sighed, "I promise you, now's not the time to be thinking about what might pull us apart. We just made love to one another, and you deserve to enjoy that much at least. Please?"
With a small (though not entirely convinced) nod of his head, Bertholdt settled into his pillow, one hand settling under his beloved's head to help her rest, the other sitting at the small of her back, tracing words of love in hopes that it would ground him, reminding him of the now that he wished he could cherish in his heart forever; the now that was every bit as unexpected and erotic as it was beautiful and heartwarming; the now he had with his exhausted but utterly devoted lover in his arms---and he could do nothing but whisper into the still air of the room.
"I love you, please stay."
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spice-chan · 3 years
Text
Legally Incapsulated
yandere!Bakugou Katsuki x darling!reader
In a different, dystopian world, yanderes are allowed to run rampant and they make up 15 percent of the population. It gets a little interesting when Bakugou, a protective yandere falls for you, a taken darling. 
warnings: dystopian society (ig?), yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, reader has a bit of an early stockholm syndrome kinda thing, blood and near death, captivity. 
also hi, i came back from the undead with an update. 
.........
Bakugou laid on the ground, bleeding profusely, cold and alone. The red liquid soaked through his clothes, painting him as an ugly manifestation of destruction and death. However, he did not welcome the latter yet, clinging to-hanging tooth and nail to the threads of life.
What cruel irony. To be dumped somewhere so public, yet at a time when no one would bother to come. To have the Hero hanging onto the hope that someone would visit the park at three in the fucking morning. 
A brutal fight between him and a particularly vicious villain ended in Katsuki suffering not only the humiliation of defeat but injuries that will do him in soon enough from blood loss. All alone, with no back-up, Katsuki suffered possibly the worst defeat of his life, for it might cost him that very same thing. Fucker attacked him after he finished his night shift too when no reporters or anyone would be around, knocking Katsuki out and dumping him in a public park just for the mockery of it. 
His head felt light and doozy, and he was starting to succumb to the feeling sucking him in when he heard a gasp amidst the fog. 
With what little stamina he has left, he turned around, sharp red eyes spotting a petite woman heading towards him. 
You quickly got to his spot beneath a tree, crouching down and inspecting him, your warm eyes becoming horrified at the blood pool. 
“Oh no, what happened here?! No matter. I’m going to call an ambulance. You’re going to be ok.” You reassured, or tried to, for the words coming out of your mouth could only be taken as self-assurance when one notices the dampness of your eyes. He tried to concentrate on what you were doing, but the next time he was aware of what was happening around him was when you clutched his hand tight with tears streaming down your cheeks.
“You’re gonna be ok.” 
He sure hopes he will be now. 
“What’s your name?” 
Despite the haze covering, his red eyes zeroed on you, calmly taking you in despite the battered state he was in. You froze. 
You stammered, heart hammering as you finally had another person's attention for once. It should’ve made you really ecstatic, but it just made you feel like you were naked on live TV. 
“It’s um-“ you nibbled on your lip as if unused to your name, Katsuki just got lost in the dainty, delicate sound of your voice. 
And when you said your name, as if testing foreign words on your tongue for the first time, he couldn’t help but think it suited you. 
So pretty. 
Honestly, if the sight of you is the only thing he’ll see before dying, he’ll be content. Your hand remained in hold his, your warmth travelling to his frigid hand and warming his very soul. 
But the sound of ambulance sirens broke him out of his trance, and you too, it seems. For you broke away from him in fright, he had to hold back from grabbing you and keeping you close. He would, had he not been injured. 
“Whe-where are you going?” He asked brokenly, desperate to keep the angel that saved him close. You shook your head, frightened and frantic. Looking at the time, and seemingly getting further and further. 
“I’m sorry-I—I’ve got to go. I’m gonna late, I’ll get punished if I’m late.” 
His heart sunk with every syllable you uttered, feeling a pain he had never felt before, something not tangible enough to be compared to injuries and not comprehensible enough for a man like Katsuki to express. 
You’re a darling. 
You’re someone’s darling.
By the time the ambulance rolled in and took him, you were long gone…
But not for long. 
……………...
Katsuki Bakugo: Yandere. 
Classification: Protective
Darling: Unregistered 
In a world where yanderes are allowed to go rampant with their love, an ordinary citizen doesn’t know when they’ll become trapped by a person who claims to ‘love them unconditionally’. Thus making them a darling. And from the moment that label is put on them, the law ceases to help them and they become entirely at their yandere's mercy. 
Yanderes are often separated into their schools and housed in their specified yandere classification ranging from obsessive, possessive and protective, and if a person overlaps two during their classification test they get reign into which house to go to. At UA, the houses are split between those three types and are equally split. 
Katsuki, who scored rather high in both protective and obsessive traits, chose to go with the protective unit where he met Kirishima, who’s currently blabbering on about nothing in Katsuki’s hospital room. 
“You barely made it man, I still can’t believe it. One can never be too careful these days.” He said, for the hundredth time. Katsuki was topless, the nurse having just finished bandaging his wounds. The stark white stood out against his chiseled, muscular front, it had every nurse swooning but he only had one thing on his mind. 
You. 
Where were you? Who were you? Did you really have a yandere? How can he take you away now? 
No, he doesn’t like you. He’s just curious. 
He’s survived this long without a darling. He doesn’t need one, contrary to popular societal belief. 
When babies are three, they undergo tests and scans to see whether they have OLD, obsessive love disorder, which is something about 15 percent of the population suffers from. 
They go to their own schools and such, but their identity as yanderes won’t be revealed to the general public, making it easy for yanderes to take their darlings by surprise when the grand reveal comes. 
Katsuki himself attended a yandere oriented hero school, but what the public doesn’t know is that the acceptance rate is so low because only yanderes are accepted. Yanderes rarely, but not never, go for other yanderes so it poses as less of a distraction. 
And so, the talented in the 15 percent of Japanese yandere are carefully picked and honed. 
And the separation only proves something. That darlings are a distraction. He won’t be like other wanderers, he’ll get a hold of himself. 
…………..
Y/N L/N: Darling
Under yandere of classification: Obsessive
Yandere name: Nagisa Mura
Katsuki ground his teeth, red orbs staring viciously at his computer screen. Hypothesizing and being faced with the fact that you do belong to someone else. The distraction, unneeded angel who fell from heaven just to save him. 
Poor you, he bets that piece of shit doesn’t treat you as good as he could. 
After looking further into you, he found several allegations of sexual assault made towards Mura that got completely dropped after he captured you. 
A flash of searing pain made Katsuki jerk back, narrowly missing scorching his screen to smithereens. 
He...he hurt you. The fucker hurt his angel, his princess...he hurt you, he hurt you, he hurt you. 
He thought of your pretty, kissable lips, making unsure, clumsy movements as you tried to vocalise your name. 
No, Katsuki has to have you. He needs to save you. It’s the only way for both of you to be happy at this point. 
And this, spurred on a thorough check at your yandere, and Katsuki delved so deep that when he found what he wanted, he couldn’t help but break out into a lopsided, sinister grin. 
………………
Nagisa burrowed his face in your neck, breathing in your scent while you sat still and rigid, not wanting to move away and risk his sanity flying away. 
“Did you enjoy it?” He asked softly, suddenly attentively look at you with his cat-like, loving, sick eyes. Your heart palpitated in fear for a second before you nodded. 
“Oh, where did you go? You...didn’t talk to anyone right?” Your heart erratically hammered, thinking that he might’ve somehow found out you did, and even told him your name. You shook your head at the speed of a sewing machine, then thought that might’ve perhaps been too aggressive to be convincing. 
“I didn’t. I walked to the park and came back home.” 
He sighed in satisfaction at that, moving his dark bangs back to stare at you with his green hues. 
“I knew night time was a better idea. There would be no one around at this time that you can’t deal with with pepper spray. Fewer people to talk to, fewer people who see you” he was smiling, not breaking eye contact once, and with each syllable, his soft voice seemed to get more sinister and sinister. 
You only nodded, pliant as a lamb in his grip as he twisted you however he wished. He buried his nose in your hair, inhaling the scent of you as if smelling a rare fragrant flower. 
“We’ve gotten so far since the days in the orphanage when you refused to share your dolls with me when we were five.” 
Memories. Something that should fill one with nostalgia, only filled you with an unbearable sense longing to a freer, more easy time. When you only had to worry about Nagisa bothering you during breakfast, lunchtime, movie time, sometimes worship time and wash time. 
Desperate for a sense of normalcy, you hugged him back, feeling icy cold in his embrace. 
“Nagi, what are we having for dinner?” A twinge of regret pierced you as you lowered your guard for a second. His hold became stiff, and he didn’t bother to swipe back his bangs as he flashed you a blank face. 
“You’re thinking about dinner while we hug?” 
But you knew how to deal with him better by now, deflecting his anger and turning it into something more malleable. 
“Oh no, it’s just that I feel a little dizzy. I don’t think I ate or drank well those past few days.” You paired the lie with a yawn for extra measure, and the ice of his face melted to reveal a familiar worried expression pouted lips and widened greeny eyes. 
He carefully put you down, bundling you in a blanket before he rushed to the kitchen to prepare you some food. 
The worry he harboured for your well being should’ve filled you with warmth, but instead, you were left twiddling your thumbs and rocking yourself back and forth, an unexplainable feeling of doom filled you. 
The feeling of a hand touching you caused you to spring out of your reverie in fright, but the sight of the green hues staring back at you only calmed you a fraction. He put the food in front of you, which he brought back with some vitamins because he can’t have you getting sick. 
“Thank you…” you murmured, feeling incredibly stupid and useless. 
He insisted he feed you and that you go to bed early. 
But as you laid in bed, thoughts of strange red irises and their bewitching beholder swarmed your thoughts along with the fatigue. You hope he’s alright… 
You wanted to check on him, but if you asked or even implied to Nagisa that you met someone, let alone a man albeit injured or not, that he will opt to not let you out for a year again, or possibly longer this time. 
Even in his injured form, there was something undeniably feral about him, as if ready to pounce any second and gamble his chances at life if the situation called for it. It frightened you. 
You shook your head, willing comfort to return to you through the soft duvet and sheets enveloping your body. You better sleep before Nagisa comes to bed and finds you awake…
…….
Finally, Bakugou has the best reason to get that fuck arrested. And you? Poor you, you’re going to have your yandere taken away, and you can’t *just* be let free. You didn’t earn it after all. Well, you would have, had there not being a perfectly suitable yandere for you to be rehomed with. 
Heh, to think of it, you might hate him a little for this...but he’ll show you that he can treat you better, in no time, you’ll be wrapped around his finger like he’s shamefully wrapped around yours. 
Bakugou’s thoughts come to an abrupt halt when the L-word is mentioned, not noticing when his thoughts spiralled to that degree. His deranged obsession with you had been planted the moment you saved him, but Katsuki didn’t notice when he lost the wheel of his rationality to his heart. 
Yeah, sure, he did background checks on you, felt a twinge of pain when he realised you grew up in an orphanage, felt a tornado of anger when he saw the assault charges that went nowhere after that obsessive fuck captured you. Yeah, ok, he felt proud when he saw that you were the valedictorian. But… where did the stone hearted Katsuki go? Where did the one who was afraid of getting close to anyone in case his true nature shows and distracts him from his dream go? 
But then, he remembered your glassy eyes, staring at him in worry that no one ever showed towards him before, fumbling with his phone to dial the ambulance while holding his hand. Telling him he’ll be ok. 
The moment Bakugo looked in the mirror, he knew he lost. 
His cheeks were flaming hot. 
Whatever, he better start preparing your room. 
…….
It felt like preparing the room of a newborn baby, Katsuki bought enough stuffed animals and plushies to make it resemble a fluffy asylum, along with pastel pink sheets. Your name was also put on the wall, with cursive pink letters that had butterflies surrounding them.
Not to forget a dresser filled with all kinds of things you could ever desire. But his favourite was filling the closet. 
Besides adding some of his own shirts, he stuffed it with all kinds of pretty dresser and cute clothes that he can’t wait to see you wear. 
Bakugo dusted his hands, taking a sigh and looking at the finished guestroom, previously a spare but now your own room, it looked as if a sparkly fairy vomited all over it. Hopefully you’ll like it… 
He wishes you were here to see it… 
An unfamiliar sense of isolation invaded his heart, perhaps it was the realisation that he just finished a room to a person who doesn’t even live with him *yet*, or knowing what he’s missing out on with you, but he knew he desperately wanted you here. 
He wanted to protect you from the bastard who has you in his clutches
…….. 
A day later
You sat on the sofa, munching on some popcorn while you sat on Nagisa’s lap, watching anime. 
A rough knock sounded out, the sound so aggressive is sounded as if the wood itself was gonna break under the aggressive force. Nagisa tensed up, he wasn’t expecting any guests, in fact, he rarely invites anyone over. He disassociated the both of you from any acquaintances from the orphanage, and you weren’t allowed to mingle with anyone. 
He saw your curious look, even without any verbal question, but he opted to simply kiss your forehead and put you on the sofa. 
He quickly went to answer the door, but not without grabbing a dagger and hiding it somewhere discreet. 
He turned the knob, feeling his chest tighten painfully, as if sensing a near, imminent loss. 
Three aggressive, toned cops welcomed his sight as soon as the door was open. They forced their way inside, cuffing him and telling him things, words that were spoken too fast and went over his head as the only thought that went through his head aas you. 
He turned around to where he left you, but you were suddenly standing besides one of the officers, not allowed near him. No…
“According to our database, you are a yandere who has a darling. This means that she will be permanently taken away from you and handed to an eligible yandere as part of your punishment.” 
He swallowed, his gaze, which always seemed morbid to you, now looked panicked and morose, gaze moving like a boomerang between you and the officers, as if not processing what’s happening. 
“Nagisa, what have you done?” He couldn’t answer you, he couldn’t speak a word. You were leaving him, and there’s nothing that he can do. 
“Eligible yandere? But as far as I know, there’s no one after her besides me.” The thought comforted him. Maybe he’ll recapture you after he serves whatever sentence he has, even though he’ll have to do it on the down low now. It’s illegal for a yandere who had their darling taken away to go after them again. 
“Well you thought wrong. Scum” 
Bakugou felt like the star of the show, coming in to rescue his damsel and finish his quest, with you as the prize. 
Your mouth was agape, the little hope that simmered in you that you might possibly be free is now crushed, confusion coming full force in place of it. His face was all too familiar, it was the face of the man you found on death's door only a few days ago. 
Nagisa’s face blanked, turning to you with bloody accusations in his eyes, which made your vision narrow to only focus on him, afraid to make eye contact yet afraid not to. You almost felt the bile rise up your stomach as goosebumps covered your entire body at his familiar, haunting stare. 
“(Y/n)...how does he know you?” 
“I-“ you swallowed, unable to answer. Who is he? 
The dots were starting to connect in Nagisa’s head, however, instead of his chilling rage, all you got was a sad, nostalgic smile. 
“Very well (y/n), it’s ok.” You couldn’t feel relieved from his ambiguous tone. Your very gut screaming at you that something was wrong. 
And your gut was right. 
“It’s ok, I know you didn’t mean for any of this to happen, I’m sure of it but I’m sorry because if I can’t have you then nobody can.” In the blink of an eye, Nagisa charged at you with a dagger, with speed you didn’t know he possessed, while you were frozen in place in fear. 
However, before he could reach you, the blond, brawny man moved like the wind, catching the hand that threatened you, firing an explosion at the wrist in a show of wrath, probably giving Nagisa third degree burns, then twisting his arms behind his back and pushing him harshly into the floor. The level of strength between them was visibly imbalanced to the blondes' favour, Nagisa was by no means fit or sturdy, not at all when compared to the wall of strength in front of you. 
The officers, novices who should have expected this turn of events by all means, have proven to be useless until the very end of this spectacle, thanking the blond the blond profusely while handcuffing the hysterical Nagisa, who was taken kicking and screaming by one of the officers while one stayed behind. 
“Miss (y/n), I believe? Sorry we couldn’t prevent this unsavoury turn of events, that criminal will be locked for good, you don’t have to worry about him.” The officer tried to reassure the frightened lady in front of him, disappointed that a yandere would try to kill the person he loves. That was one of the most prohibited laws, though what can he expect from a criminal? 
“You don’t have to worry about your safety though, as it turns out, you will be rehomed with Mr Dynamight. This will serve as both a punishment for the offending yandere and a way for darlings who haven’t earned their freedom to stay with their next eligible caretaker.” 
You nodded shily, overwhelmed by the influx of information directed at you. It didn’t help that you barely spoke to anyone besides Nagisa in years. 
The officer took your agreeableness in stride, scramming quickly as he physically felt the burn of Bakugou’s stare. 
Now it was just him and you. 
“You ok?” He managed to mutter, not sure how to start a conversation with you now that he had you. 
You nodded, not facing him. Are you ok? 
You felt the moisture gathering in your eyes, making your eyes seem like gleaming crystals. 
Of course you weren’t ok. 
You just had the person who, for years, claimed they loved you, stole you against your will and forced you to adapt to a lifestyle that suited them try to kill you. You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry but apparently your body did as it broke into a sob. 
Your shoulders shook in failing effort to try to hide yourself from him-Mr Dynamight or something, but he felt his heart clench when he heard you sniffle. 
You heard him kiss his teeth, and you had a half mind to apologise, having unfond memories of the sound, but he instead, to your surprise, brought his beefy arms around you and embraced you warmly. 
Your crying halted, head turning up to fave him with a ‘deer caught in the headlights’ look in your eyes, making him blush and turn away from you with another kiss of his teeth. 
“Stop crying.” 
Why did his simple gesture stop your tears? Why are you not trying to make a run for it? 
Most importantly, why do you feel something warm blooming in your chest instead of hate? 
You looked at him, trying to channel all the hate you harbored for Nagisa for this newfound captor of yours, but all you could think about is when he saved you from Nagisa’s sharp blade— how strong and capable he was, really, shouldn’t you be thankful? 
At that moment, you experienced something that never happened to you in your years of being with Nagisa. 
You blushed. 
……
 You stepped through Bakugou’s house, already having an idea of what kind of lavish place it is from the exterior, but you were nevertheless impressed. 
The place is something out of a movie, extremely different to the small and cozy apartment you lived in. Everything seemed up to date and costly. 
You didn’t notice Bakugou preening in pride at the impressed look on your face. He tried to appear nonchalant, but he was seconds away from grabbing your hand in excitement as he tours you around the place. 
Still, he wanted some form of contact with you, so he opted to put a hand behind your back, excusing it as you being too slow when you turned to him with a quizzical look. 
His hand felt warm on your back. 
“This is the bathroom nearest to your room, but there’s one in your room as well.” 
Your room. It felt strangely delighting to have something be your own, when previously everything was ours with Nagisa. Everything was happening so quickly, you didn’t know whether you should try to pause to catch your breath or pick up your pace. 
“And uh, this is your room.” This time you did notice Bakugou’s redness, it was quite hard not to when his entire face was red. Of course it would be. 
The room looked like it was something out of a barbie house. Soft, pastel rugs paired with baby pink curtains. Plush, stuffed dolls littered the place, some small and some big enough to engulf you. You slowly stepped inside, unsure how to feel about this interior, until you felt your bed. It was also a gentle pink, but the catch was how featherlight soft it was, it felt silky, and the mattress reminded you of when you’d dream of sleeping on a cloud. 
“Like it?” He asked, not taking his eyes off your blessed face. That’s the first he’s seen this expression on you. He feels almost cheated, like he would have seen way more of you and learnt way more than he already knows if that piece of shit let you out. 
You hummed to him in response. 
“Good, ‘cuz it’s your nap time now.” 
“Huh?” You straightened your back, looking at him in protest. 
“But, I still have things to ask you! Plus, I don’t need a freaking nap-“ 
“Sleep now, questions later.” 
The sun was starting to dip, giving the room a warm, orange glow which did make you feel somewhat lethargic. Bakugou closed the curtains, and shut the door, but surprisingly didn’t leave your room. He pulled the covers back, gesturing for you to slip under. You were afraid for a moment that he was gonna slither his way inside as well, uninvited. But he merely sat besides your supine form. 
“Um-?” 
“I’m gonna stay here ‘till you fall asleep.” You nodded mutely, not finding a point to objecting anymore. You never have a say anyways. But, this wasn’t so bad. He put his large hand on your head, caressing it and admiring its texture, and how amazing it feels beneath his fingers. You felt his touch to be invasive at first. Who does he think he is, touching you when you don’t even know him?
But you don’t speak. You instead relax and let the stress you built up melt away, and you welcome sleep. 
…..
Your eyes slowly fluttered open to the feeling of someone lately shaking you. You were disoriented, glancing around the fluffy place in confusion, your eyes looking adorably lost and confused. 
“C’mon dumbass. It’s time for dinner.” 
Oh, right, you were living with him now. 
“I put the clothes you’re gonna wear on your bed, and here are your slippers.” You glanced on the bed, seeing a comfy looking white, silky pyjama dress slippers at the foot of your bed. 
“Ok.” You nodded, “I got it.” 
He gave you one final final intense look leaving your bedroom. 
…….
In the dining room, Bakugou had already set everything up. He made your favourite food, lit up some candles and sat down, anxious glancing at the door and waiting for you to appear. Will you like it? Will you ask him questions? Do you enjoy living with him so far? 
If the answer to some of those questions is no, he doesn’t know what he’ll do. He does know that you aren’t going anywhere though. 
You quietly walked in, feeling the tension increase with each step you took. 
You spied the contents on the table, salivating at the smell of your favourite food like a starved ogre, not even bothering to grimace at the memory of Nagisa’s poor attempt at making it. 
Bakugou was salivating as well, but for different reasons. He couldn’t look away from your exposed skin, staring creepily as if he’s never seen a leg before. 
The meal was consumed with awkwardness, neither party breaking the ice. You were afraid of confrontation, of asking too many questions and receiving nothing but anger and resentment in return. He seems so much nicer than Nagisa, you didn’t want him to hate you. 
The silence reigned, and the dishes were cleared away and being washed by Bakugou, who insisted you stay near him but also insisted you stay unoccupied. 
Every moment that passed felt like a moment lost, and you kept summoning your courage, but the words just wouldn’t leave your mouth. Maybe you should build up to what you really wanted to ask instead of jumping straight to it. 
You saw his red eyes sneakily glancing at you, rapidly leaving your form when you noticed him, causing his ears and face to flush. 
“So um, what do you do?” he quirked an eyebrow, looking at you strangely while his movements didn’t pause. 
“You-you don’t know?!” he exploded, looking at you in disbelief. You just shook your head like a deer caught in headlights. 
Oh, that shit must’ve not let you watch TV much. 
“I’m a pro hero.” 
Your eyes widened in wonder, the decadence of the place suddenly making sense. 
“Cool! What’s your quirk?” he ditched the dishes, excitedly showing you his quirk and explaining how it works, delighted at your cute smile and interest in him. The air felt charged and lively, and maybe that’s what led you to ask the questions that have being nagging at you. 
“So um, how did you-uh, how did you even find out anything about me?” 
Your heart dropped when you saw the excitement on his face disappear, his usual scowl in place of it. 
“You told me your name, that’s all I needed to know. I never stopped thinking about you ever since I saw you, I tried but I couldn’t. If even someone as strong as me can end up on death's door, then what would happen to you? I couldn’t just leave you.” At this point, he was caressing your face, looking at you with love stricken eyes. You were reminded of who you were talking to, you were talking to a Protective yandere, who took you. 
You didn’t have to ask anything else really, pandora’s box opened, and everything you weren’t previously privy to is now made obvious to you. 
“It sickened me though, knowing you actually fucking belonged to someone else. So how could I leave you? I had to save you like you saved me.” he had both of his huge hands on your face, looking at you with pure insanity, love, adoration and bloodthirst swirling and mixing in his irises. He was a yandere, he was the person every ordinary person should fear, he has you in his clutches, you should be trying to escape and regain your freedom, you saw first hand how easily capable of hurting you he could be if he wanted… So why weren’t you scared?
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bakubros-boo-thang · 3 years
Text
Disrespected Devil
Wordcount: -4K
Lucifer x F!Reader
Summary: When you disrespect the demon king, Lucifer is forced to say goodbye to you.
Genre: Angst, smutt, slight fluff, but tbh just angst
A/N: So another first. Not only my first time writing for the Obey me fandom (I have a major Obey me brain rot), but also my first time writing angst and I felt depressed after finishing this (which I did a second ago). I love Diavolo, but I needed a reason for the goodbye to happen so even if his dad is the villain, he is the one to execute it... Hope you enjoy this story.
Warning: NSFW, mentioning of being paralyzed I guess.
‘’What’s with Luci today?’’ ‘’He looks more pissed of than usual…’’ ‘’He probably listened to classical music too long and forgot his homework.’’ ‘’Lucifer forgetting his homework will never happen, but if it did he would look like this.’’ Hearing all those whispers during dinner time is nothing new for you. Tonight is different though. You know why he’s mad and you know who’s the blame. But it’s not as if you don’t have a reason to be just as upset. As dinner slowly ends you know there is only a small gap to avoid a situation. ‘’Beel, how about we go bake something for later this evening?’’ You say, as you cling onto the huge redhead. You know that food is a trigger and you know that this is the way to hide from HIM. ‘’Alright, sounds delicious!’’ He doesn’t seem to notice the way you hold onto him for dear life and the same goes for the others. Clearly, they’ve gotten so used to you that it’s not even necessary to be by your side 24/7. It’s not as if they know tonight will be the last time they see you. It’s a small moment of weakness and you feel your heart clench by the thought of leaving those boys. It’s enough to make you lose your grip on Beel's arm. Enough to bend over, because it physically hurts to leave them behind and enough for Lucifer to finally notice you and come to your aid. ‘’Beel, I think she ate something wrong. No cake tonight, I will see her to her room.’’
And with that, he scoops you up and takes you upstairs. Of course, your room is not an option. It’s way too close to the other rooms. No place to yell. No, Lucifer’s room is soundproof. Made for his nights spent with loud classical music and also made for the occasional screaming match with one of his brothers. As he enters the room, he carefully puts you down on his bed. ‘’Are you feeling alright, Y/n?’’ He says as he lays his palm against your forehead. The feeling of sadness is gone, already replaced by nerves. You know what’s coming. You know you won’t hold back. Will this be your last fight with Lucifer? The question never makes it to the surface, because the moment you nod your head in ensurement, Lucifer opens his mouth. ‘’Good, because you have no idea how foolish you acted today.’’  As mentioned before this room reminds you of the occasional screaming matches he must’ve had with his brothers, but never with you. Pissing Lucifer off is easy. You’ve done that plenty of times. Even made him show his true form, but making him scream, that is something you never achieved. Still, it is worth the try. Tonight is your last chance. As you get up you take a look at his face. What faces you is the cold expression he usually shows when he’s done with someone’s bullshit. The expression you have already mirrored back to him. ‘’So you are going to ignore me?’’ I’m not going to answer him. ‘’Are you serious?’’ I am not going to say a word. ‘’Should I spell out what you did?’’ Don’t say a thing. ‘’You just signed your death certificate.’’ His voice cracks and even though it’s far from the scream you aimed for. It’s still the first sign of emotion from the man you care about so much. ‘’Diavolo didn’t seem upset by what I said?!’’ You can’t help but talk louder. especially after being silent for the past few minutes. ‘’ As if he is going to kill me? ME?! And ruin the bonds that are being formed with the humans?’’
You can feel the tears in your eyes, this fight might’ve been about you being disrespectful in some way, but for you it was different. All this time getting closer with all the brothers. All this time loving them. All this time being there for them. It made you realize that the only one who made it difficult was him. With every step getting closer to each other; there were always a few steps back. An obsession with keeping up appearance, an obsession over a promise he would keep no matter what, an obsession with being a stuck-up asshole; That was Lucifer in a nutshell for you. And still, you couldn’t help being drawn to him. As a moth drawn to a flame. Even when the flame could easily kill the moth. Just as easily Lucifer could kill you. And it’s not as if he hadn’t tried that before. ‘’Y/n, You disrespected his father. I had to bargain for you to even leave the castle. The first time I trusted you enough to take you with me alone. And this is how you behave? You know what he wanted to do to Belphegor…’’ You know this story is his weakness. The reason he ended up becoming the lapdog of his so-called best friend. Still, it only makes you more upset to hear him say it. Even when you can hear the slightest hint of emotion in his voice; his eyes stay just as cold as usual. ‘’He is your best friend, isn’t he? He is my friend too, right? You always do this Lucifer! You always get mad over things and it never solves anything. You get mad at me for having fun. You get mad at me for trying to help. You get mad at me for trying to get closer to you. You don’t share things with me! Maybe Diavolo should’ve locked me up. Might as well get myself killed; it’s not as if you never tried to kill me…’’ Your voice is loud as you speak, but his silence is louder. He just stares at you and then it happens.
It’s not that you’re scared you’ve seen his true form before. It’s just as beautiful as him, but it’s also something that happens when he’s full of rage, just as that one time he tried to kill you. You can feel yourself freeze under his gaze. You can feel yourself moving away from him until you reach the headboard of his bed. Still, he moves closer. Until his lips are inches away from your ears. No screams, only whispers; what a way to say goodbye. ‘’DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA OF WHAT IS EVEN GOING ON?!’’ You are so shocked by the volume of his voice, the bass it carries, that it takes some time to realize he has more to say. Your ear is beeping as he moves his lips away and locks his gaze onto you. ‘’DIAVOLO IS NOT THE FUCKING PROBLEM, Y/N, HIS DAD IS. YOU INSULTED THE KING OF DEVILDOM IN FRONT OF HIS SON AND MULTIPLE WITNESSES. DIAVOLO CAN’T DO SHIT ABOUT THAT.’’ Only now do you notice the way his hands are gripping your arms; The way his expression has changed from cold to almost desperate. ‘’That guy has only been able to do what his dad wanted. Our friendship is real, but if his father told him to kill me, he would do it without hesitation. Do you really think he would think twice about killing you? IF HE WOULD KILL ME -HIS BEST FRIEND- IN AN INSTANT?” You notice the tears in his eyes. Lucifer is screaming and crying, but this isn’t a win. Before your heart breaks again, his arms are around you and his face is hidden in your neck, but that doesn’t stop the words. ‘’I had to send you away. I had to be cold. They know I care about you, but not to this extent. I had to pretend it was for the sake of the bonds. After you left I had to beg on my knees for your survival. I had to beg. The avatar of pride begged someone on his knees. It was all Lillith over again…’’
There is nothing you can say to fix this. It might’ve slipped your mind while you were there. But you were surrounded by royalty. What might’ve seemed innocent for you, was clearly a lot for them and now you had to leave everyone you loved behind. You can feel the tears fall from your eyes. “I’m sorry Luci, I truly am.” It won’t help, but it’s the least you can say as you look up into his eyes. He is still in his true form, but even with his wings all spread out, he has never looked more vulnerable. There is a sad smile on his lips as he caresses your cheek. “I know you are, you fool.” He says with no trace of the rage he had before. “ I don't want to leave you all…I don't want to leave you!” You know that you sound like a small child that already knows he lost and that’s exactly what you feel like. “It’s too late for that now, Y/n. Diavolo gave me tonight to say my goodbyes.”  You try to distract yourself by focusing on his raven colored wings. “So that means I can’t say goodbye to the rest…”  The pain is back. Never being a fool with Mammon, never dressing up with Levi, doing make-up with Asmo, reading books with Satan, eating with Beel or sleeping with Belphie.  You can’t help but grab your chest again. “Are you okay?” Lucifer is supporting you within seconds as he asks the question. “No I’m not, but atleast I get to say goodbye to you.”  And as you look up he leans in and gives you a tiny peck on the lips. “I’ve wanted to do that for quite some time.” He lets out. You can’t help but smile as you pull him back towards you. “Let's make it a proper goodbye then.” You whisper as you pull him back to your lips.
It’s not like it’s your first kiss with Lucifer, but it’s the last and that’s what makes it so much more special. It’s the combination of mutual sadness and desperation, the hint of rage still brewing somewhere deep inside the both of you. He knows your body, the way it will arch when he pushes you all the way down onto the bed. The tiny gasps when he starts kissing your neck. The way you look away when he starts kissing all the way down your body. ‘’Please keep looking at me, dear. I want you to see how much I am going to miss you.’’ It’s enough to make your heart flutter, the way he starts to attack your core with his tongue right away. It’s obvious he is in a hurry, but even with all the sadness, it’s the best way there is. You can’t help your moans; You’re lucky his room is soundproof. He’s fast, maybe too fast, but with everything that’s going on, it’s the best you can get. And that’s what it is. The best, because within a few minutes you can feel yourself starting to reach that point. The knot in your stomach tightens. your hands end up in his hair and with one loud moan, you erupt around him.
‘’I know that Mammon claims he was your first… in multiple ways… and not to discredit my brother, but I intend to be your last in all of them.’’  He says as he looks at you while he licks his lips. Him saying those words, the way he just made you lose your mind. It feels good, after all the fighting, teasing, kisses and losses , you’re with the man you love. You don’t want to ruin the mood. You’re really trying, but the moment you hear yourself thinking about loving him, about leaving him, about leaving his brothers, you just break. The tears start to form in your eyes and as you try to wipe them away you feel something on your arms. Lucifer. His eyes are cold again as he moves up to face you. ‘’Don’t hide your tears. I am just as sad.’’ He takes a long look at you, lets out a sign, and lays next to you as he caresses your back. ‘’I don’t want to play the ‘’Who has it worse’’ game, truly, I don’t want to, but in all the years I’ve been in heaven and hell, you’re the first human to have ever make my blood boil. Both from nerves and anger nonetheless, but losing you. Losing the one that made my family whole, the one that makes me feel all these emotions, the one that I love, hurts.’’ You can’t help but raise your brow. when he notices your expression he lets out a laugh.
You feel his hand grab your chin and suddenly your lips are only inches apart. ‘’I know you love me, Y/n. I’ve always known. Falling for you, was what surprised me.’’ You can’t help, but roll your eyes at him. Trying to ignore the way his hand feels on your back. The way it slowly moves it’s way to your hips. ‘’You know I do love all your brothers quite a lot too…’’ You say with all the confidence you have left. ‘’I know you do, but still I am the one that has you laying here. Practically begging for more.’’ He let’s out a chuckle as he pulls you closer. ‘’Let’s end this conversation, there’s not enough time.’’ And with that he’s on top of you. You know there isn’t much time, but when he starts to unbotton his shirt it’s as if time slows down. Of course he notices your looks and can’t help to give you a sly smirk. ‘’Don’t worry your next.’’ Is all he says as he takes his shirt off and starts tugging on yours. After your shirt is taken off he takes a look at your body and all you see is adoration on his face. ‘’I want to see all of you.’’ It makes your body flutter. ‘’You’re absolutely breathtaking.’’ He whispers. All this praise makes you feel weak. You try to grab his face, but as you put your arms up they fall down. You feel weak. Not because of his words, but something else. You see Lucifers expression change, the adorations is switched to concern, then back to concentration and before you know it he scoops you in his arms and makes you straddle him.
He’s looking at you, but not really. Obviously talking to himself. ‘’He wanted to be sure…’’ And as he says it he’s back. Back to giving you a sad smile. ‘’What’s going on?’’ Is all you let out. Is all you can let out, as you feel your body weighing more and more. He notices you getting weaker, making sure your settled between him and the headboard of the bed, before he speaks again. ‘’I think it’s time… Barbatos must’ve cast a spell… something that gave us a time limit. The probably knew it would be hard saying my goodbyes to you. Now I’m forced to make haste, just to make sure you’re safe.’’ You can’t even respond. You can move, but barely and all you can do is watch as Lucifer grabs his shirt. As he moves away from you, you’re sure of it. No this is not the way we’re going to say our goodbyes. It needs to be on our terms. Of course those words never leave your lips, but with all the power you have you reach out to him and as he looks back you let out a: ‘’No...not like this.’’ And maybe it’s the few words you’ve spoken, or the way your arm is trembling from all the power it takes to hold on to him, but he crawls back to you. His face is right above yours and if it’s not your eyes making it obvious what you want, you’re mouth will do. ‘’Take me…’’ It’s not a lot of words, but with the face you’re making and the fact that you guys were just in the middle of it, it doesn’t take much guessing. You can see that he’s thinking about it, obviously worried for you, but you can see his eyes change the moment it clicks.
His wings ar still there and you wished you could touch them, feel them one last time, but you should be lucky by what you can still get.’’I used to be a rebel, so why not know.’’ He laughs quietly before he lays you flat on your back.  ‘’I’m going to take care of you my love, promise me to let me know when it’s too much or when you want to stop.’’ You nod your head and you know that your eyes tell him all he needs to know. How bad you want him, how even when you were able to just talk normally, you would want this goodbye to be said only in silence. His body is hovering over yours, his hand touching your neck, giving you goosebumps. ‘’Does this feel nice?’’ he whispers as his hands move towards your breasts. You can only let out a tiny gasp and that tells him enough. ‘’I wish we had more time…’’ Is all he says as his finger enters your core. The moan that escapes you is loader then the both of you would’ve expected. As he continues to stretch you out with one hand, his other starts to prep his cock. ‘’Wish I could… do that for you.’’ You manage to say. You can’t keep your eyes from him. The way he’s hovering over you. His finger inside of you and the way you can’t do anything except for your stares, moans and gasps. ‘’All I want is to feel you right now, my love.’’
And with that he places the tip right in front of your entrance. He makes sure your faces are only inches apart and as he slowly slides into you, his arms make there way to your sides. He’s holding you as he bottoms out in you and the only thing you can do is let out a long moan. He starts moving slowly, tender, putting all his love in every trust. He’s the only one speaking from time to time. ‘’I love you’s’’ and ‘’You feel so good’ s’’ are filling the room. All that praise, all the love in his eyes. The fact that he’s not only literally hitting all your spots, but also the spots in your mind, is what does it for you. You feel yourself unravel under him. You’re so close, that you start to tear up. Your eyes are filled with tears, mostly because of how good this feels, the fact that you’re making love on stolen time, but also because the time is probably running out soon. Lucifer never increases his speed. When he notices your tears he quickly wipes them away and as his hand caresses your swollen cheek he whispers:  Don’t cry, my love, let us enjoy these last moments.’’ And just as he is about to give you a kiss on the lips you whisper a soft ‘’Love you Lucifer.’’ You notice his eyes being red as well and it’s devastating, but it feels so good. the way he keeps a steady pace has you reaching your peak and these final ‘’I love you’s’’, the final kisses is all you need to feel yourself tightening around him. He’s close too, because the moment he feels you tighten around his cock he gives you one firmer stroke and that’s all he needs to cum inside of you. He falls next to you and quickly takes you in his arms. ‘’I wish we could stay like this forever. I would sell my soul… but I guess in some way my soul has already been sold.’’ And all you can do is give him a sad smile before your eyes close.
Lucifer knew that it was time. You were starting to feel cold, too cold. After putting on some clothes and making sure you were fully clothed, he grabbed the coin Barbatos had given him. ‘’Use this before the time runs out.’’ So he had warned him for the curse. He knew he couldn’t be mad at his friends. He couldn’t be mad at you, he could only blame himself. He had shown his weakness by loving you. But you loved his brothers, loved him, despite all he stood for, without any shame. And even with the way it felt like he was going to lose you forever, it still meant the world he had the honor of getting to know you. The moment the coin was thrown a portal started to form and as he grabbed your cold body the darkness swallowed the two of you. As he opened his eyes he saw nothing, but darkness. It took a few minutes to notice that he was in a room. It must’ve been yours, because he noticed a picture of you next to a bed. He was going to take the picture, he was a rebel after all. As he tucked you in, he was at a loss for words. So all he could do was give you one last kiss on the forehead. Not being able to stop the tears falling from his eyes. ‘’Goodbye, my love…’’ and as the darkness was about to swallow him, he couldn’t help but leave one more thing behind. A raven feather, just for good measure. Returning to the Devildom was going to be almost as hard as leaving you here. He was once again going to be the villain in yet another story… the story of how he lost you.
You wake up to sunlight. Too much of it. Why aren’t your curtains closed? Wait, you have to get out of bed, it’s your turn to cook for everyone. Everyone? You live by yourself… right? It feels like you had a weird dream, but you can’t remember it. All you feel is sadness. As if you’ve lost something or someone important. The pain hits you so hard that the moment you try to stand your legs give out and you lay on the ground as tears fill your eyes. It hurts, but you don’t know why. As your hands try to find some grip to get up, you feel something soft. A feather. A raven black feather. It’s weird, but it feels comforting. Before you can help yourself, your lips are already on it and even when you should be grossed out by it, you plan to cherish the little trinket...
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binaryeclipse · 2 years
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Obidala next for the SHIP ASKS
Oh ho ho 👀 thank you so much for this paring ask 💖
002 | Send me a ship and I will tell you:
When I started shipping them: You know how everyone makes that joke about "why would Padmé choose Anakin when Obi-Wan is right there!?" but they don't actually mean it in a shipping way they only do it to rag on Anakin's character? Well I took the question in good faith instead, followed it to it's logical conclusion and what I found was hot as fuck.
My thoughts: It's hot. It's so hot. Obi-Wan Kenobi is a slut and you know he'd eat pussy so good and Padmé deserves that 😌
The only way I could see them working in a canon setting is post-Mustafar where Padmé survives. They're on the run, raising the twins and that is the peace between them. There's resentment on either end for their parts in Anakin's fall (how could you not see it, why didn't you stop it, how could you be so selfish to cling to him) and also their own acknowledgement that they didn't want to see what was in front of them the whole time. But there's also this draw, this lingering obsession, with the person Anakin Skywalker loved most in this world. Because Anakin didn't leave the Jedi because of Obi-Wan, and Anakin wasn't fully committed to the Jedi because of Padmé Amidala. So they fuck, desperately, hard, rough, seeking out a glimmer of that which Anakin loved as a way to still hold onto him. It's a twisted sort of comfort, but it's all they have asides from the twins.
And it's the twins who soften it, over time, who turn that dark and twisting thing between them into something softer. They can heal from the wounds Anakin left on them when he betrayed them and everything they loved. They were both loyal to democracy, and they'd see that restored. Palpatine took everything except the twins from them, they'd bring hell to his doorstep. Because neither of them are soft people. Padmé is honestly kind of feral and Obi-Wan is three cats in a paper bag.
Oh they'd fight, they'd dig in their claws. They were both the moral pillars of Anakin's life and Obi-Wan can go toe-to-toe with any politician and probably win. He'd tear Padmé Amidala from her ivory tower and build her back up, with greater foundation for her beliefs than her academic study.
I think they'd learn to love each other genuinely but I cannot divorce their love and loyalty to Anakin from their relationship. It can't really be done in a canon setting. Loving a demi-god does that to you.
What makes me happy about them: They'd be good together, eventually. I think both of them have the capacity to be supportive partners (Obi-Wan would probably have to tear down some of Padmé's worse traits, her desire to avoid conflict being one of them).
Also, they're hot. I'd watch their sex tape 👀💦💦💦💦💦
What makes me sad about them: They're both so tragic, betrayed by the person who they loved the most in the galaxy. Obi-Wan was by her side when she died and she pleaded with him, insisting there was still good in him.
Things done in fanfic that annoys me: I'm not a fan of dom!Padmé and sub!Obi-Wan. I don't see their dynamic in that sense. I don't see Obi-Wan as a sub at all really. I think in the game of doms, Obi-Wan takes the throne between the two of them (and honestly, I like sub!Padmé in this instance)
Things I look for in fanfic: Honestly, anything. There's not a lot of just them that isn't already Obianidala. Which is fine! But even in that context, you rarely see them two of them together. It's usually Anakin getting his cake and eating it too and we rarely see the two of them interact.
My wishlist: Just more content of the two of them really. We rarely see them interact.
Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: Anakin 😂 But I also like Padmé x Satine and Padmé x Sabé. As for Obi-Wan... ah, let him be the hoe he's always been 😂
My happily ever after for them: Raising the twins and acknowledging their love for Anakin Skywalker and absolving each other of their guilt surrounding his fall. And having great hot sex.
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angry-geese · 3 years
Text
Risotto Nero x Reader
Warnings: nsfw / mdni. shameless smut, shower sex, oral (fem and masc receiving), fingering, handjobs, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie, biting. lots of fluff. afab reader. fem pronouns, risotto calls the reader a good girl like once
a/n: a soft, self indulgent smut fic with Risotto
Word Count: 2k
The job went well. It's not often you can say such a thing. It's a rare, but welcome day when nothing goes wrong. Risotto suggested going out to dinner to celebrate. Food sounded nice, but you were far too tired to get ready for a nice restaurant. You settled on takeout.
He insisted on heading straight home. Any paperwork you can get done tomorrow. The hideout isn't going to burn down if left alone for one night. Well, not as long as someone responsible is around. Prosciutto is probably there. If not him, then Sorbet and Gelato are.
Over the past few years, the small apartment is what you two have called home. Rent was cheap, not to mention there weren't many neighbors. While Risotto may have been fine with sleeping at the hideout, you weren't.
You can hardly pull Risotto away from work. This was a rare, but welcome occasion.
The hot water feels nice as it pours over your sore muscles, turning varying shades of red as it rolls off your body, staining the bottom of the tub. It's not yours. Most of it anyway. Baths don't get blood out. Not a lot does. Showers are a bit better, but you’ve gotten used to tossing out a lot of clothes because of the stains.
"Hey Ris," you call out, "you comin' in or not?"
Momentarily the curtain pulls aside. Cold air rushes in, goosebumps raise along your exposed skin. He tosses aside the last of his clothes, joining you.
You give him a once-over for any injuries. Some blood is dried to his hands, though he looks mostly uninjured. He's too tall for the both of you to fit in the tub at the same time, so taking a bath together is out of the question. When you buy a home together—someday—you'll get a tub big enough.
"C'mere." You say. "I feel bad making you stand in the cold."
You take his much larger hands in yours, inspecting them for any wounds. He watches as your eyes scan up and down his body. Aside from a few scrapes, he's unharmed.
He practically has to kneel so you can wash his hair. A few, pleased sounding grunts leave him as you work the shampoo into his scalp. It smells like you, he notes. Your nails are getting a bit long, and feel nice against his skin. His shoulders tense as your hands work lower, working the knots out of his shoulders.
"Lean back so I'm not waterboarding you," you say, carding your fingers through his hair.
He has to duck to fit under the shower head. The one at the hideout isn't nearly as short, but there’s no shower curtain, not to mention Illuso who has little regard for personal space, and a penchant for appearing out of mirrors. Maybe the next hit will give you two enough money to look for a house. He could really use a bigger bathroom. And a bigger bed. There’s nothing wrong with the one you have now, but he wants one where he can sprawl out a bit more.
Though his back is to you, he feels your eyes drift down his body. You look at him in a way nobody has before. It both terrifies, and comforts him. Most eyes fill with fear when they gaze upon him. Yours never did. Even as you first showed up to the hideout, wide-eyed and frightened, telling him you had just been assigned to the hitman team, you never saw him as anything but good.
Each passing job, each day that goes by, he finds himself falling more hopelessly in love.
Your touch drifts across his back, working the soap over his skin. You’re shameless in how you admire the planes of muscle, and his well-toned arms. In public you’re rather reserved, it's only behind closed doors that you let your affections show. Risotto values the peace of solace, and most of all privacy. The two of you become entirely different people when no longer confined to a certain appearance. Very few things fluster him the way you do. He stiffens as your hands work particularly low, your fingers ghosting across the sensitive skin of his thighs.
Your intentions seem innocent enough until your hand wraps around his half-hardened cock.
A noise resembling that of surprise leaves him, followed by a weak: "the food-"
"We've got twenty minutes." You say. "It'll be fine."
His pupils shrink down to pinpricks. You have to stand on the tips of your toes to give him a kiss. Just a quick peck. He pulls you back to deepen the kiss, nibbling on your bottom lip until you allow the slick muscle of his tongue to explore your mouth. A strand of saliva connects your lips when you pull away.
He watches you with wide eyes as you give his cock a few pumps, sinking to your knees. The tiles of the shower can't be comfortable, but they don't seem to bother you. You lick a stripe up the underside of his cock from base to tip. The kitten licks you place against the head only serves to make him stiffen, and let out a few pleased grunts. It becomes a game, trying to get him to unravel entirely.
He’s too big to bottom out in your mouth. The man is quite literally huge, it's only fitting his cock would match. The hairs towards the base are the same silver as his head, and neatly trimmed. You hollow out your cheeks, pumping what you can't fit in your mouth with your hands. A mix of saliva and precum drips down your chin.
“Fuck-” He’s cut off mid-sentence by his own moan. “You feel so good. You’re so beautiful.”
Risotto can't tear his eyes away from the way the suds cling to your form, how the water collects and drips off every curve of your body, how your breasts jiggle with each movement of your head. It's rare he’s so shameless with his affections. Even behind closed doors he was rather reserved. Love such as the way you love is foreign to him. You’re never shy in the way you love him. It's not that he doesn't like it—it's quite the opposite—but in a way he’s terrified.
“There- tesoro,” His hands bury in your hair, tugging gently. “Like that. You take me so well.”
You pick up the pace a bit, pumping his cock faster. One of your hands slips between your legs, toying with your already-wet cunt. He pulls you off, an audible pop echoes through the bathroom as your lips release his cock.
Shower sex is a bit hazardous. He's too worried about you slipping. Still, he falls to his knees, his large hands ghosting down your sides. He leaves a trail of wet, open mouth kisses down your stomach, licking a stripe from your bellybutton to your mound. His tongue briefly dips between your folds.
He presses kitten licks to your clit, his touch achingly gentle. You angle your hips to give him better access. He latches onto the bundle of nerves, lapping and sucking desperately, rolling his tongue over the small bud. Your fingers bury in his wet hair, guiding him to where you need him most. The wet, lewd noises of his tongue can barely be heard over the shower and your own moans. Risotto’s name spills past your lips like a prayer. His ring and middle finger press into you. They pump in and out of you slowly at first, hooking and stroking against your g-spot.
His gaze drifts up your body, admiring every dip and curve. He takes you in like a man starved and given his first meal in weeks. You grind down against his face as you near your release. Steam coils off his back in ribbons, floating off and dissipating in the humid bathroom air.
Risotto pulls away, a wet smack echoing through the bathroom. There's a dark, needy look in his eyes, which are already hazy with lust. His cheeks are flushed; either with need, or from the hot air.
“Keep looking at me like that,” he says, running his tongue over his bottom lip, “and you won't be able to walk right for a week, tesoro.”
You let out a squeak as he hauls you into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist. Your arms loop around his shoulders, your fingers lacing together behind his back. He mutters a weak "I've got you" into the crook of your neck.
The head of his cock is slick with precum. It presses into you slowly, filling you inch by inch. The stretch stings a bit, though with the prep it hardly hurts at all. He was always terrified of hurting you when you first got together. Sometimes he still is. You constantly have to remind him that you're tough, and you'll survive a little manhandling.
He groans as he bottoms out, muttering a weak "good girl" into your ear. You feel so impossibly full. His fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs so hard you think they'll bruise. Not that you mind. Risotto gives you a moment to adjust to his size, although it's not needed.
“Please,” you say, your voice weak.
A dark laugh leaves him, coming from low in his chest. “Please what?”
“Fuck me,”
The heat that pools low in your stomach is undeniable. Risotto’s touch leaves you with an aching need you’ve never been able to replicate. Many nights when he was away on a job you would try to recreate his skilled touch. Always to no avail. Your hands never compare to the real thing.
Being so at his mercy is intoxicating. There's an odd, weightless feeling as he fucks into you. His hips meet yours in unrelenting thrusts. The sound of skin slapping on skin echoes through the bathroom, just barely drowned out by your collective moans, and the rushing of the shower. The angle allows him to hit deep, his cock curving in a way that makes your toes curl. His teeth sink into the junction where your neck meets your shoulders, leaving a faint, crescent-shaped indent. Tension builds in your stomach like a coil being wound tight.
You fit around him like a glove, your warm, wet cunt clenching around him in a way that threatens to make him cum on the spot. Nothing feels quite as good as the way you do. Before he never had much of a sex drive. It was something he had gone most of his adult life without. But upon meeting you, finally feeling your touch, he can never seem to get enough.
His own release creeps up on him far sooner than he expected, though you don't look to be far behind him. You're flushed from your forehead to your chest, blush dusting the tips of your nose and ears. Your moans—mixed with various curses and praises—echo through the room. His thrusts grow sloppy as he nears his own orgasm, his hips rocking against you in short, needy thrusts.
What sends him over the edge is the way your nails dig into his back, raking up the hard planes of muscle. Hot ropes of his cum spill into your unprotected womb.
His hand moves down to toy with your clit, working circles around the bundle of nerves. Your skin feels feverishly warm against his. He thrusts until the coil in your stomach snaps and you cry out, your legs tightening around his waist. You ride out your orgasm on his cock, his thrusts slowing.
He pulls out slowly so as to not make too much of a mess. Your arms remain around his shoulders to steady yourself. Shamelessly he leans back to admire his work. The sight of his cum dripping down your thighs is enough to make him want a second round. He likes taking his time with you, but he’ll never pass up on a quickie.
Risotto looks at you with such adoration that it makes your chest swell with affection. The kiss he pulls you into is uncharacteristically soft, but driven by need. His hands move to cup your cheeks, brushing your wet hair out of your face. It's another moment before he’s hauling you into his arms, heading for your shared room.
The moment is only disrupted by a knock on the door.
322 notes · View notes
ranhaitanisgf · 3 years
Text
❝ three answers ❞ jyugo
[𖤐] it's 4am rn what did i just write....sorry about that LMAO if you want someone to blame blame sammy their the one who started all this. its all her fault. blame. them. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! anyways, i hope you guys enjoy this all the same, for my nonexistent nanbaka fans <333
[𖤐] this does contain a mention or a pretty major manga spoiler, so read with caution!!
❧ masterlist
--
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jyugo has never been one to want anything; it’s a fact that deep down, he’s always known. it was never something that bothered him too much, (maybe because he never wanted to think about it) and so he never really took the time to ask himself, ‘what do i want?’.
he answered this question for the first time when he almost lost everything he didn’t even know he wanted.
even when it was all dangling right in front of his face, even when he was about to lose the one thing he had wanted, his thoughts were still jumbled with confused thoughts and questions that didn’t clear up until he saw his chance walking away. his chance. a chance. i want…
“please!! give me a chance!!”
“...took you long enough…”
in that moment, when his number plate clanked against the stone floor, he suddenly knew how it felt to have the most important thing to oneself be almost taken away. in that moment, when he was given a chance, he swore that he would never let it happen again; that he would never let anything important to him be in danger, he never wants to lose the people close to him. he doesn’t want to be the monster that he was in the past, so he’s decided that he’ll do everything he can to protect the people he could never stand to lose.
the second time he answered this question is when he fell in love.
this feeling makes him feel like every other emotion he’s ever felt was fake; they all paled in comparison to this sensation. he still isn’t able to decide whether it’s a good or a bad thing, hell, he doesn’t even know what he should do with this feeling in the first place, (should he tell you? how does he handle it? it’s times like these when he wishes he knew his parents.).
he has never needed anything so badly that he would be willing to do anything to have it, that he would reach out for it so desperately that he forgets everything around him. he never thought that he would be able to experience such a vivid emotion such as this, and now that he’s feeling it, it almost feels like an amazing ride that he never wants to get off of.
i mean, how could he not fall in love with you? everything about you was just...amazing, (he wishes that there was a better word to describe you, but he doesn’t think there’s any words he knows that would be enough to do so). you had the kindest soul he had ever seen, always there for others and putting other people’s needs above your own, (he thinks you should worry more about yourself). he admired everything about you, and yet, what was holding him back? why would he avoid your gaze whenever you would glance over at him?
you can’t have them, you know that. you’re a monster.
oh, that’s right.
he almost forgot about it for a moment there, but how could he? the little voice in the back of his head was there to help him remember it; that little voice that sounded exactly like him, (he said that he would be able to control the elf inside him, but this was the sacrifice he made to have that control in the first place).
“hey, jyugo, is everything alright?”
“h-huh?”
“oh, sorry! you just seemed kind of down, like something’s weighing down on your mind...you probably wouldn’t want to, but you can always talk to me if you need anything, alright?”
just like that, you had saved him yet again, and you didn’t even know it. each time he was drowning in his own thoughts, you would pull him back out with just a few simple words. he would cling to them every time, holding onto them with such a grip that he didn’t even know was possible; you were truly something else, and he was forever grateful for it.
when he had finally managed to confess his feelings for you, (it was by accident, and it was caused by uno, nico, & rock) his world was turned upside down. he had surely thought that there was no way you could would like him back, there was no way somebody like you could love somebody like him, and yet, the words coming out of your mouth seemed to say something different.
“I-i really like you too jyugo!”
for a while, everything was perfect. now, he had everything he could ever want, and there was nothing that could take this away from him. sure, there was still the occasional incident, but as long as you were near, surely nothing would happen, right?
he’ll be able to grow up and go to an ice cream parlor with you and experience all the wonderful things in life with you, and he’s giving you a promise ring for now, but he swears that one day he’ll take you to a pretty spot with cherry blossoms and he’ll get down on one knee and ask you to marry him, and then the two of you would get married and you would yell at rock for trying to eat the cake before he was supposed to, and then he would take you to go do everything you’ve ever wanted to do and the two of you would buy a house and you would yell at him for trying to paint the walls himself, and it would all be perfect. for now though, he was going to savor every single moment with you; every late night that he spent having whispered conversations with you, every smile that you would flash his way, every time you would lace your fingers with his, he was going to have it for the rest of his life.
oh, how stupid he was to think that it could last forever.
he’s been left alone more times that he can count, so why was he so surprised when it happened again? maybe it was because it was his fault, or maybe it was because you didn’t want to leave him, you didn’t want to go just yet. maybe it was because you were slowly dying and there was nothing he could do about it.
“h-hey, stay with me, (y/n)! you can’t go yet, i-i have so much to tell you!!” he hurriedly pulled you into his arms, his eyes frantically looking over your body, only to find the color red slowly seeping through your shirt.
“you shouldn’t...cry, i think you look prettier when you’re smiling.” how could he smile in a situation like this?!
“w-we’re going to take you to okina-sensei, and he’s going to-”
“no, he’s not. jyugo, you have to keep going, alright?” don’t say that, it’s like you’re saying you’re gonna...
“stop talking like that, y-you’re not going to…”
“there’s...so much you can do with what you have...you’re special that way, so don’t go thinking that you need me to do what...i know you’ve always been able to do.” i need you though…!
“(y/n), p-please-!” no, stop looking at him with that smile on your face.
“ever since i saw you...i knew that you were different...thank you for letting me partake in a dream...even if it was for just a little bit…” stop talking like that, you’re not going to die.
“s-someone get okina!!!” you’re going to survive this; you have to.
“jyugo...hehe, are you going to...keep your promise…?”
“what? (y/n) please…”
“you said that you...were going to marry me, right?” please don’t do this to me.
“(y/n), w-will you marry me?”
“of course...i’ll marry you jyugo. hehe, i’m so happy right now...” even with the tears sliding down the side of your face, you were gently smiling up at him, almost like you hadn’t been coughing up blood just a moment ago.
“we’re gonna get married soon, and, and we’ll have a nice wedding and…”
“i know…” your hand shakily reached up to cup his cheek, the metal of the promise ring he had given you cool on his skin. he leaned into your touch, the tears in his eyes falling rapidly down his cheeks and over your hand. there was no way this was happening, not now, not to you...
“please don’t cry...can you please smile, one more time…?” it took everything in him, but because it was you asking, he was somehow able to turn the corners of his lips up just a bit, giving you a small smile despite the flood of tears pouring from his eyes. your gentle touch against his skin brushed his bangs from his eyes, a fond look in your eyes that were also flooded with tears.
“i’m so...happy right now...thank you for everything, jyugo, i love you...so...much…” the panic that was set aflame in his heart when he felt your hand drop from his cheek and when he saw your eyes flutter closed was akin to nothing that he’s ever felt before.
“(y/n)...? (y/n)!! don’t close your eyes, please wake up!! t-there’s so much i have to tell you, you can’t go yet! p-please…!”
why was it that everytime he found something that made him happy, it would get snatched away from him? was it these shackles? was that the reason why? if only he could have rid himself of this curse, then maybe he would finally be normal, maybe he would have been able to marry you.
the third time he answered this question, it was when he lost everything, and it was the final time he answered it.
nothing.
--
howd i do 😃
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miyanom · 4 years
Text
AND YOU JUST CAN’T SAY GOODBYE...
MASTERLIST | JEAN KIRSTEIN X F!READER
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synopsis: in which the raid of liberio takes the most important thing in jean’s life; you.
warnings: 4x08 spoilers!!! Angst, major character death (y/n), mentions of guns and blood
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Y/N stared down at the ruins of Liberio as she flew overhead, holding tightly onto the gun of her anti-personnel gear — the thing keeping her attached to the aircraft as she reeled herself in.
But she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the mass of bodies laying beneath them, the bodies of the civilians who weren’t given the chance to make it out before the bombings.
She tried convincing herself this was all for a reason, that it was the only way. But she couldn’t. How could she when the bodies continued to pile up, when the blood staining their hands got thicker and thicker?
Freedom, they called it. They were fighting for freedom — but how many innocent lives would they have to exchange for it? How many more wars stood between them and the freedom they so desperately seeked?
Releasing a shaky breath, Y/N climbed into the aircraft, ignoring the voices speaking her way as she moved away from the entrance in utter silence.
She just wanted to go home, forget all about what happened here today... forget about the innocent lives lost to Eren’s plan. Eren, the reason they had come to Marley in the first place.
He had already made his way back into the ship, so had Captain Levi and the others. Even so, Y/N couldn’t shake the uncanny feeling gnawing at her gut. Their plan had so far been mostly successful, why did she feel like something was going to go wrong still?
“Oi, Jean!” Connie’s voice mentioning Jean’s name was enough to snap Y/N out of her thoughts. Pushing her way through the crowd of soldiers who had made their way back to the airship, Y/N dropped down at the entrance, holding out a hand to help Jean inside.
Looking up at his friends waiting for him, Jean reached up to grab ahold of Y/N’s hand, allowing the girl to pull him into the safety of the ship Commander Hange had secured for them.
As soon as Jean’s knee pressed against the wooden floor, Y/N was launching herself into his arms. A whiff of his scent being enough to wash away her fears even slightly.
Maybe things hadn’t gone exactly according to plan, but Jean had made it back alive, they both had. And that’s all that mattered to Y/N in that moment.
Pulling back slightly, Jean stared at Y/N’s face, taking in her appearance like she’d disappear from his hold at any moment. “Thanks for coming back alive,” she whispered with a small smile, one of her hands caressing his cheek gently.
“I always will,” Jean told her, quite suddenly moving in to press his lips against hers in a kiss.
Y/N didn’t want to move away, just wanting to live in that moment for the rest of eternity.
The idea of leaving the fight behind and living a safe life with Jean always remained in the back of her mind, the lingering thought being the only thing that helped her sleep at night when the toll of the war became too much.
There was only one thing stopping her, and she knew it stopped Jean, too.
Though he’d never admit just how much he cared about Sasha and Connie, Y/N knew him well enough to have a good idea. He’d never leave them to fight this tortuous fight alone.
The couple’s reunion was broken up by Connie and Sasha as their sibling-like bickering grew loud enough to break through Jean and Y/N’s little bubble.
Jean let out a sigh, standing up and helping Y/N back onto her feet before they walked over to the others. “You owe me a big fucking meal, Connie!” Sasha complained, pointing a finger at Connie who was shaking his head.
“Speaking of debts, I think you guys owe me a drink when we get back to the island,” Y/N grinned, throwing her arms over Connie and Jean’s shoulders as her eyes flickered between the two. “Seeing as I paid last time, it’s the least you two could do.”
It was over. The war was just beginning, but this fight was over, Y/N kept telling herself. Ignoring the fear still coursing through her veins.
“I think it’s Jean’s turn.” Connie immediately threw the other boy under the bus, earning a glare from Jean.
Y/N smiled up at him. “Come on, Jean~” she cooed. “Since you love me and all.”
Jean stared at her for a moment before sighing and averting his gaze, the telltale sign that he couldn’t say no to Y/N. “Fine.”
Y/N and Connie immediately turned to each other, high-fiving in victory. Though the moment was short lived as Jean turned around, and a gunshot was suddenly echoing through the air.
Y/N’s body quickly spun around, her eyes widening as she felt a sharp pain pierce through her torso. “Y/N?!” Sasha’s voice sounded so quiet over Y/N’s pounding heart as she stumbled backwards from the shock.
As the pain travelled through her body, Y/N felt her legs give out beneath her, and within seconds, she was hitting the cold wooden floor of the aircraft.
“Y/N! Hold on!” Sasha screamed, falling to her knees and pressing her hands against Y/N’s wound as the others all gathered around the attackers. “Stay with…”
Moments later, Sasha’s shouts were being cut off as Jean fell by Y/N’s side, shouting her name in fear that she wouldn’t make it. “J… Jean.” Her words came out in a gasp, her raspy breaths making Jean and Sasha share a look as he carefully pulled the girl into his arms.
“Come on, Y/N, just hold on,” he pleaded.
“Jean,” she coughed out again. And Jean finally noticed the blood gathering on the corner of her mouth, as hot tears began to stream down her face. “I want… I want to go home.”
“You’re going to make it back, I promise,” he whispered, cradling her face in one hand as he thumbed away her tears. “And I’ll buy you that drink.”
They both knew it was a lie. Y/N, from the way her pain had begun to subside as a foreign coldness began to settle in its place. And Jean, knowing it just from the amount of blood he could see pooling on the floor beneath her.
Though despite it all, Y/N smiled weakly, gasping out what could very likely be her last words. “I love you…”
As Y/N began to go silent, her eyes struggling to stay open, Jean finally began to pay attention to the blood seeping from her wound, creating a pool of crimson around her fallen frame.
Y/N could hear it — her comrades’ cries of desperation. They wanted her to hold on, but what was there to hold on to? Perhaps the happy memories of the people they once were, before the war had truly taken its toll…
She hoped to take it all with her as her time finally came. Though she guessed her time was now, in a foreign country, in the arms of someone so familiar she could see his face even with her eyes closed.
“Are you serious?” Y/N stared at Jean in shock. “The Survey Corps? I thought you had your heart set on the Military Police, what happened?”
“Not that suicidal bastard, if that’s what you’re thinking!” Jean crossed his arms, staring her down for a moment before he sighed and looked away, a frown tugging at his lips. “I just… I don’t want- I don’t want those charred bones to be disappointed in me.”
Y/N’s expression softened as she took his words in. The Battle of Trost had been hard on all of them, losing Marco had made it almost 100% worse. Especially for her and Jean.
Hearing about her friend’s death, without knowing how it happened, was something she never wanted to go through again. Unfortunately for them, Jean happened to be her best friend, and she wasn’t about to let him be another body with an unknown death. Another person she lost without trying to help them survive.
“Then I’m joining the Survey Corps, too!” Y/N said, her fists clenched tightly as Jean’s head snapped back in her direction.
“Y/N-”
“Don’t even try to change my mind, cause you can’t,” she told him. “I… I’m staying by your side, okay? If anything happens, I- I just want to be there.”
Without so much as a word, Jean was pulling Y/N into his embrace. “Y/N-”
He was crying? Why? Why was Jean crying?
Y/N’s eyes slowly flickered open once more, immediately being met with Jean’s teary eyes as he held her close. She remembered now… she was shot.
Maybe that’s why she couldn’t move her arm even the slightest bit to wipe away Jean’s tears and comfort him. That’s all she wanted to do. She hated seeing him cry, it was the worst feeling in the world.
Weakly, her eyes flickered to her other side. Sasha and Connie sat there, clinging to each other as they sobbed. A tear slipped from Y/N’s eye as she watched them, unable to move a single muscle in her body.
She hated seeing the people she cared for in pain, and all of this suffering was because of her? Why? Why did this have to happen?
“Stay with me, please, Y/N.” Jean begged.
She wanted to. That’s all she wanted. But she was so tired, and everything hurt, even breathing seemed too much at this point.
Jean raised his hand once more, accidentally smearing her own blood against her cheek as he held her face delicately in his large hand. “I love you.”
I don’t want to leave you… that’s what she wanted to tell him, but no words came out, only broken gasps that’d haunt Jean for the rest of his life as she bled out in his arms.
As Y/N’s eyes shut once again, she wasn’t greeted with the face of the man she loved, rather, she was blinded by a bright light. The voices of her friends screaming for her to wake up fading into white noise as she slipped out of consciousness.
This was her end…
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“Y/N!” A soft voice seemed to echo through the air as Y/N’s eyes flickered open.
“Where… where am I?” Y/N whispered, pushing herself up as she looked around. She was still in the aircraft, but no one else was. Jean and the others weren’t.
Before Y/N even had the chance to question it further, the voice repeated itself. And she finally turned around.
Y/N didn’t know what was expecting to see, but as her eyes fell onto Marco — the boy she hadn’t seen in years, the boy who looked like he hadn’t changed a day since his final moments in Trost — she couldn’t help but take off into a run.
Marco easily caught her as she embraced him. “Marco!” She cried out happily, before her eyes widened and she pulled back. “How… how are you here? You died. I- I saw…”
He remained silent as Y/N seemed to catch on to what was happening, one of her hands immediately to shooting to where her wound once was. “You’re fight’s over now,” Marco told her. “You can rest.”
“Rest,” Y/N repeated in a whisper, the word sounding foreign on her tongue. When was the last time she had rested, she couldn’t remember. It had been battle after battle, betrayal after betrayal. There was no room for rest in the middle of a war, she had been telling herself.
But now…
Now she could finally rest, knowing Connie and Sasha would take care of Jean for her. Knowing they’d win the war together and live long, safe lives.
It was all Y/N ever wanted. Even if she was unable to see it with her own eyes.
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TAG LIST (JOIN HERE)
@filipinhce @sashaisangel @dai-tsukki-desu @ley-writes @answer-the-sirens @may-machin
557 notes · View notes
honouredsatoru · 3 years
Text
JJK Characters x You on a date
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notes : I tried including Gojo's love for Digimon since I also grew up watching Digimon and loving the anime with all of my heart, also because Gojo's seiyuu, both Japanese and English versions, voiced for characters in Digimon, so I wanna pay homage to the both of them. other than that, I also included my love for arts and history, something I tried to incorporate into my writing, just to make it like.. lilith's style, ya know?
extra notes : also I wrote megumi for Elli, just because haha.
warnings : slight cussing. not proofread lol. other than that, none. 100% fluff!
characters : gojo satoru, fushiguro megumi, kugisaki nobara, nanami kento, itadori yuji.
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Gojo Satoru - Arcades, vintage shops, especially collectors, especially Digimon, comic book/manga stores.
[Your name]! [Your name!]! Look, look! It's the Digimon Adventure V-Tamer 01 series! All 9 of them! Let's get in!"
"Ahh hold on. Towu! We're supposed to visit the cat cafe, you promised that you would go with me and take pictures with the cat hairband on! And I'm starving!"
You jokingly scowled at him, tapping your Doc Martens feet on the ground, arms folding.
"Fucking adorable. Let me see if I can tease her more, hah." A smirk soon appeared on this blue-eyed darling of yours.
"Let me get the manga and I promise, I'll go to this cat cafe with you, baby. Hm?"
"Oh alright."
"I love you, sweetheart. I know how much you wanted to go there but the manga. I- ahaaaa"
He started pouting as he kept pointing in the direction of the Digimon manga by the window. You quickly opened your camera, taking pictures of him sulking, emitting a soft giggle that actually made his heart squeezed with joy.
He presses his lips against your forehead, thumb circling your cheek, gently squishing them before opening the door, yanking you into the comic book store with him. You vowed to hide the comic books once he goes on a mission. After all, he made you wait a month before the two of you finally get to go to this cafe you always wanted to visit.
"Baby, I can read what you're thinking. Your face shows it too. Hehe. Watch me hide your panties."
Taking in a few gulps of air to deepen your breath, you opened your eyes, to meet the love of your life's own eyes, snickering at you, his large hands on the crown of your head before ruffling your already messy hair. There is no way you can stay mad at this man, as childish as he is, you know he loves you and deep down? He knows you love him too.
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Itadori Yuji - Thrift stores, internet cafes to play online games with you, cinemas.
"Candy! [Your name] love! Don't! Make! Me! Ahhh cover up for me! I am gonna lose! I am gonna-"
He turns around to face you with soft eyes, his eyebrows slightly droopy before looking back at the computer, taking in the seconds in his head to register the fact that he lost in his mission with you in Inferno.
"Awww sorry babe. I mean.. you just started playing CSGO, so tell me, why- again- damn it- you wanna- AH. Damn it! Throw the fucking grenade! I mean why you wanna play this game, you need more practice- FUCK YOU."
Gentle chuckles were heard, emitted from his throat, his soft, peach toned lips landed on your cheek repeatedly as he rubbed soothing circles around your back.
"Breathe, bunny baby. You're so feisty whenever you start having online matches. Breathe. I love you, and I don't want you to get your blood pressure rising because of these dumbos, hm?"
Your lips curl into a faint and appreciative smile, nodding while your eyes are glued to the screen, ignoring the fading laughs and snickers from the people acknowledging your mini rage.
"I love you too. If I win, I'm getting us boba and chicken nuggets. So let me fight them, okie?"
"Yes ma'am!"
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Megumi - Museums, art galleries, photo exhibitions, aesthetic cafes.
"Oh Gumi bear, look at that! That is the Raft of Medusa, it was done by Thèodore Géricault, he himself interviewed two survivors from the shipwreck."
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He looks over your eyes that shine with excitement and pure happiness.
"Art"
Was what he thought every time he laid his sight onto you. God knows that he falls in love with you every single time he is blessed with your presence. Resting his arm around your waist, pulling you closer, inhaling the scent of mixed berries and wild roses, he swore he heard his heartbeat increasing every two seconds in a span of one minute.
"Oh really? What do you think this painting is all about?"
Glancing at him before returning to the painting, you puffed your cheeks, pressing your lips together with your index finger curled on your chin and your thumb under it.
"Lord, she is so cute whenever she does that. Can I kiss her? Should I? No wait, she's trying to tell me her own interpretation of this painting. To me. Oh wow. I'm gonna kiss her... later. I can't interrupt her." That is all he could think of. You. He is deeply, madly, beautifully in love with you.
"In my opinion, it tells me the ways of how men, or human beings, seek out in order to survive. When we are at the brink of desperation, insanity, happiness, greed, lust, desire, wrath, grief, don't we all do things unimaginable to help us go through the day? They even resolved to cannibalism. I think even I would commit to that if I was in an extremely dire situation."
You looked at him, a wide smile on your face, emitting a soft giggle that entered his right ear and stayed within the chambers of his mind. He closed the spaces between the both of you, sealing his lips onto yours, with the intention of making this very moment last a little longer heavy within his heart.
"Art."
Was what you thought of him.
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Nanami Kento - Theatres, historical museums, fine dining restaurants.
You squealed, lightly clapping your hands as you ran to a block of marble, your foot tapping against the floor. He chuckles, hands in his pocket, taking fast strides towards you.
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"Namnam! Look look! That's the Parthenon Sculptures! It was founded in hm... Athens, yes! If I am not mistaken, around 438 to 432 BC. These sculptures decorated the insides of the Parthenon, it is a temple located at the fortress of the Athenian Acropolis. It is said that this temple was built to appreciate and worship the Goddess Athena, she was the deity worship in Athens. Also, ah ah! Did you know that the word parthénos means "maiden", "girl" or ‘virgin"? And I-"
You look at him, your magnificent lover wearing a dark brown trench coat, with ecru brown trousers and a black turtleneck tucked in, his neck layered with white gold necklaces. Your hand unconsciously scratches your sideburns, giggling at the side of his stoic expression, eyes piercing yours beneath that yellow-green glasses he constantly has on his chiseled face.
"Oh... I am sorry... I didn't mean to bore you. I was just so excited because you know me! I love anything that is related to ancient greek history and mythology. I can't seem to get enough of it and it is absolut-
"I'm not bored, [your name]. I was just paying attention to every single word that pretty lips of yours uttered. It's magnificent that you knew all of this. It shows just how smart, curious, bright your mind and soul is. And darling?"
"Huh?"
"I am lucky to be blessed with someone like you. With Gojo constantly following me, there is no way I can read the books I bought for myself. However, having you around, breaking the ice with your random history tib bits, I feel like I am reading the pages, savouring each word, alphabet, sentence, thus expanding my quest and love for knowledge."
You looked down. Normally, you're not the type to tear up this easily but seeing how this man, this angel of a man, appreciates the little things you loved and adored, you can't help but let the waterworks out. You lifted your head up to meet his gaze, the tip of your nose slightly stuffy. You grabbed his arms, clinging onto him, the difference of height and size makes it sweet to the eyes of strangers surrounding you both.
"Oh Namnam. Thank you so much. This means the world to me. Shall we... go and see the best of Ramesses the Great? I've loads to tell you!"
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Nobara - Shopping malls, ferry rides, beach dates, parks with cherry blossoms.
"Baby... tell me, have you ever seen anything as joyous as the ocean?"
You two stood by the seashore, fingers intertwined, your head resting on her shoulders, the sound of the seas splashing against the rocks and the warmth around your foot, it tingled but it feels good at the same time.
"I don't want this moment to end, [your name]."
"Why is that, pretty one?"
A faint sigh leaves her lips, you feeling her body loosen up.
"I just.. school is sort of stressful so my time spent with you liberates me from the pressure, fatigue, and image of curses embedded in my brain. Walking with you... through this airy womb of skies and clouds, don't you know it makes me happy?"
You leaned closer, pressing a soft peck on her cheeks, earning yourself a pair of scarlet cheeks with a gorgeous smile from the one next to you. You turned yourself to face her, hands on her shoulders, bringing her body closer to yours.
"Whenever and wherever you need me, I will be there. I might not be perfect, but I am gonna do my best to be the one you can always count on."
You pressed a kiss on her left cheek.
"I love you."
A kiss on her right cheek.
"I love you."
A kiss to the lips of the woman whom you shared your entire universe with.
"To the moon and back, I love you, Kugisaki Nobara."
The end.
tags : @tojisveryown @sookyshima @megumifushi @sixeyesgojo @sirthisisa-wendys @sasso-oda @fushigurocockslut @nkogneatho @kotarousgf @noritoshiikamo
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kissmetae · 4 years
Text
Hope
❧ AU: x Taehyung || Friends to Lovers (Lowkey slow-burn)
You felt distressed, caught up in your own emotions and confused by your over-thought thoughts. Going through a rough patch as some would say, where everything felt hopeless and you found yourself scrolling pinterest till 1am looking for "angsty" core aesthetics to fit your new "vibe" of life. But it was easier said than done to dig yourself a hole when your best friend constantly stood by filling the hole back up as you dug in an attempt to stop you, help you and make you feel better, despite having his own issue to deal with... his crush on you.
|| ANGST + SMUT | 11k | x reader | masterlist in bio ||
❧ Disclaimer: This is fiction. Actions and events in these stories are often exaggerated and to a certain degree unrealistic.  Please have this in consideration when reading fiction, especially if it includes sexual content.
❧ Rating: EXPLICIT || sexual content, unprotected sex ||  Warnings: mention of feeling hopeless, "deep reflection", (reader is troubled by something going on in their life but it's open for interpretation/unspecified)
❧ Smut features: Vanilla, desperate, first time together, unprotected, reassuring/concent asking/'checking in' (is this ok? Does it feel good?) top!Tae and a power outage.
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How do you know when you've reached the complete state of hopelessness? Do people ever become 100% hopeless? You inhaled deeply and sighed it out. Gaze to the white ceiling, back on the bed and legs up against the wall. The tingle in your feet from the lack of circulation made them look somewhat less alive and feel cold. With a tilt of the hips you allowed your legs to slowly fall to the side, forming a new pose in the shape of a 90 degree angle on the bed and allowing for the less zombie-ish color to return to your feet. Hopelessness. Feeling like there is no point yet still stubbornly aching in the inner crevice of the head with a wish for there to be a chance for something else. A change, a plot twist a sudden eureka to make the entire world loose it's zombie color pallet and become lively and vibrant again. Hope. Or a wish for hope. It's probably some basic programming, like survival instinct, hope instinct. But at this point you didn't want to believe. You wanted to be grumpy, upset, frustrated. To curse society and curse what isn't fair and curse all the norms and expectations around you regardless of who made them up! Curse the media, curse the mold for perfect and the lip filler ads, curse the restrictions planted by your own beliefs and curse the cause of said belief! But feeling frustrated and angry is hard. Not only is it exhausting but it's the hardest emotion to let out fully and feel satisfied by after. If anything anger and frustration feels like a self-fueling fire that keeps burning more and more until you get exhausted and slump down on the bed with your legs up the wall. Crying would've been easier. You sat up, feeling a brief spin in the head due to your advanced modelling poses and reached for your water bottle. Water, Zen, calm rivers, refreshment, sound of clucking water in the harbor... rain. You turned towards your bedroom window at the sudden raging pattering sound outside. Even the sky needed to cry today. You reached for your phone, having it be faced down for the past hour or so after giving up on ranting about your dilemma to your friend. You had two types of friends. Those who were there for you when convenient and those who were there for you regardless. Taehyung was one of them. 3 missed calls. 15 texts- make that 16. A sting of guilt washed through realizing he must've been worried sick the past hour. Too exhausted to use your vocal chords you opened the text chat. Taehyung was the definition personified of a caring person. Sometimes to the extent where you'd question if it was more than anyone deserved. Did the world deserve Taehyung? You didn't make it through the second text before your doorbell rang followed by a loud bang. It sounded urgent... You got up from bed and slipped your feet into your white fluffy slippers and made your way to the front door of your apartment. You unhooked the clasp and unlocked your door to see one of the rainstorm's victims dripping water onto your doormat. Taehyung, Dressed in a green raincoat and hair clinging to his forehead and temples. His chest was rising unnaturally with his attempts to regain his breathe. "Tae-" He stepped in, an arm wrapping around your side and the other pressing your head to his wet shoulder. "If you didn't make me so worried... I would've removed my raincoat before hugging you." He squeezed. "See this as my revenge." His heart was beating fast. He pulled back after a few seconds, breathing stable and his red hands reaching to unbutton his raincoat. Did he not wear gloves? He pulled the door shut behind him and gently kicked off his boots. Apparently not. "I'll... go hang your raincoat in the bathroom for it to dry" you said, taking it from him. He was quick to address the elephant. "Why didn't you reply to my texts?" He followed behind you. "I... I left my phone to charge and I got distracted..." you made up, hanging his raincoat up in the shower. "I didn't come here to scold you, but when you tell me you're feeling hopeless, you get that it makes me worried right?" His voice was gentle and he looked at you with concerned eyes, stood in the door to the bathroom. Actually.... you didn't. Why would anyone worry... everyone seemed to always take it as nihilistic comedy or something and swat it away with something along the lines of "you’re just hungry" or the classic "are you on your period?" Maybe you were or maybe you weren't but why would that matter? Just thinking about it made you feel annoyed. As if any deep emotion only was caused by a period, it's just a period, why would anyone, let alone someone with a period themselves ask someone else that in a way that minimizes the reason they feel upset or angry or whatever emot- "Hey?" Taehyung pulled you back out from inside your head. "I don't know..." He crossed his arms over his chest and you knew that look far too well. "We'll talk about it, but right now, I'm here to make it better and take care of you. Did you eat?" You shook your head. "Great! Because I stopped by at the shop on my way... before the rain attacked me and picked up some stuff, including~" he said with an eager tone and walked towards the grocery bag you hadn’t noticed until now. He picked it up and dug his hand in for something. "Du du du du" he sang dramatically and slowly pulled out the familiar dark blue packaging. The love of your life, the source of all things good. Chocolate. The good one! Not the weird orange wrapping one you hated, but the blue one, the holy blue one, your favorite one. "I remember your frustration when you saw the empty shelf of horror last week and it was restocked today so i picked up three just in case." "THREE?!" "Mhm!" He nodded proudly. You could cry, finally, but for other reasons. "TaeTae you're the best." You walked towards him, hugging him tight. He was the bestest of the best, the hero, the savior, chocolate delivery man. Oh what would life be without him. A blush spread across his cheeks. "You did it again." He said shyly "Hm? Did what?" "You called me TaeTae." "You don't like it?" "... I do." -- Taehyung had you stationed at the kitchen table while he cooked. With a focused gaze he scrolled on his phone, reading the next step for the recipe while stirring the pot. You were pretty sure he knew this recipe by heart now, he'd cooked it for you before and he should be confident in it but seemingly not enough yet to put the recipe down. The kitchen smelt amazing and you could feel your hunger cry out for whatever was simmering in the pot. Taehyung gently tapped the wooden spoon against the pot as he added another ingredient. "Are you going to tell me what happened?" He asked. That's where you'd left him hanging in your texts when exhaustion took over... "I just..." "Is it /that/ thing?" Taehyung asked, very much knowing of your source for distress already. "Kinda... but this time it feels different... I’m not nervous or eager, I just felt like I was waiting and waiting and what if I waited so long for nothing and I.... it doesn’t make sense but I just feel numb at this point and like I'm losing hope. Like every odd is set against me and I'm the only one dumb enough to still bet on myself." "And me. Except I'm not dumb, nor are you and I'll always bet on you. Always." Oh Taehyung... "Well, as your personal doctor and advisor and therapist and nurse, care-taker, comfort teddy and so on, I am going to prescribe you with some stuff." You chuckled. "Please go ahead." He placed a plate in front of you and another on the opposite end of the table. "Firstly, a good healing meal." "And you’ve already done everything in your power right now, you’ve been working hard. Maybetoohard." He mumbled under his breathe followed by a fake cough. "That said, let me distract you." "How?" "Well, some old school friends wanted to go out clubbing this weekend and-" "You don't like clubbing." "Hold on, let me get to the point. My suggestion is that you can come too, it won’t only be them. There will be the general club people too of course and I think most of them were bringing other friends or their girlfriends too so... it might be fun? If it sucks, we'll ditch and go to the midnight bowling place or noraebang, yes?" Maybe having some social interaction, an excuse to dress up and good music wasn't such a bad idea? The only thing bugging you was the potential mess there could be... and lately with your stressed mind you hadn't been the best at handling those environments, but after all this was just a club, with dancing people... it couldn't be that bad right? Bowling did sound fun too though... But you knew distraction and fun was what you probably needed. Maybe it wouldn't solve the issues but maybe it'd make it weigh less. The small distractions did a lot, a big one should do even more. "Sure." "Really?!" You could've sworn you just witnessed his ears wiggle from excitement. "I'll come." -- When Taehyung said "clubbing" you expected big flashy neon signs, a red rope and a guard and pulsing music coming from inside... not a giant base, a sax and a set-up of almost 4 different types of synthesizers. A jazz club. You should've known. The band was some sort of electro jazz fusion sprinkled with funk type band, as they introduced themselves as and they weren't bad, not at all. In fact this was a lot cozier than an uncomfortable packed nightclub. You just wish Taehyung told you so you could've worn your comfy flowy favorite dress rather than your tight little black one, wanting to fit in with the scene... Taehyung was dressed in black slacks, a green sweater and a brown coat that was hung over his chair, paired with his trademark assortment of bracelets on his wrist. Including the one you gave him for his birthday two years ago. He never took it off since the day he got it. It made you smile seeing it on his wrist. Taehyung's old school friends, the few you had managed to great during the evening were all really nice and most of them had their arm either around another or a hand held by another. You couldn't help but feel a little awkward, the questioning looks that didn't need to be vocal for you to understand. "Is this your girlfriend?" Taehyung just smiled, maybe playing it off was best... or did he just not notice the silent question? At first you expected a shrug or something but nope... "Would you like something more to drink?" Taehyung asked, leaning in so you'd hear him over the music and pointing towards your nearly empty glass. "I think I'm alright." "What?" "I'm ok." You leaned in closer. "Do you want to dance?" You and Taehyung were seated alone at one of the many tables as the majority were occupied dancing to the beats of the band and the rest drinking at other tables or mingling around. You had been up there at least twice, maybe even three times dancing the best you could and Taehyung always being by your side but your brain was starting to get a little drowsy. "I think I'm going to call it a night. But you can stay if you want." "No no, if you want to go home I'll come with you, let me walk you home." "I'll take a taxi its ok" "I insist." "So do I" the few drink he had had were enough to make his words braver and bolder. "It's late, I don't want you to go back alone regardless of if you take a taxi. I'll walk you." Fine. "Ok" Taehyung swept the remainder of his wine  and grabbed his coat and waved some quick goodbyes. It was cold outside. Dark and empty... maybe it was good Taehyung insisted after all. He stumbled slightly, alarming you. Your hands instinctively reached for him and he giggled. "You only had two glasses I doubt you're drunk right now." "Maybe I wiwwle tipdie" he giggled, clearly  acting up. "Does wiwwle tipdie Taehyung need help? Should I carry you on my back?" "No! I should be carrying you, do you have a blister on your heal from your shoes? Sore feet? Sore legs? Anything I can use as an excuse?" You laughed, patting him gently on the back. A cold breeze travelled through the street and you pulled your jacket tighter around you. "You're cold?" Taehyung asked "A little... my choice of dress wasn't the best." "I think you look beautiful." The sudden compliment caught you off guard. "... thanks." "Thanks? For what?" "The compliment" "I'm simply stating the facts." He said, looking to the side and slipping his hands into his pockets. "It sure is cold..." Why was it feeling awkward suddenly? Silence between the two of you would usually be comfortable... "Thanks for bringing me too." "Did you have fun?" He turned to face you again. "Yes, it was better than I expected." "I'm glad to hear that." "But let’s go bowling next time." "Sure!" He smiled widely. A source of warmth suddenly surrounded you and you looked up to see Taehyung's face turned away yet again but his arm resting around your shoulder, wrapping his coat around you and urging you closer into his side till your hips almost brushed against each other. The rest of the walk back home was a few minutes of silence, but luckily you didn't live far. "Home sweet home" "How will you get home?" You asked, concerned. "Ah..." he checked the time on his phone. "Well I've missed the last train... so unless I can find a taxi which so far I've seen none I'll have to sleep at the station." "No you're not, come, you can call a taxi from my place and at least wait inside instead of out in the cold." You said, grabbing his arm and pulling him with you through the entrance. "Nobody's picking up?" You asked Taehyung looked down at his phone with a confused look. "It keeps hanging up on me? I don't know if maybe their line is down or something?" "It would explain why we didn't see any on the walk back." "I guess so... so now what?" He looked up at you. "Guess you'll have to stay the night." He grinned. "Can't remember the last time we had a sleep-over" he chuckled and removed his coat. He was right, it must've been years ago... the last time you could remember was a movie night gone sleep over during winter when it had snowed so no traffic was able to move at all. You grabbed a spare cover and a pillow and handed it to Taehyung, sleepiness already present in his eyes. "Hey." Taehyung said, laying out the pillow and cover on your sofa. "If I have a nightmare can I come lay next to you?" He grinned. "If you have to." He replied with a puppy gaze. "Good night TaeTae." His eyes widened and he looked down at the couch. "... Good night." -- The question was when would you wake to the sound of birds chirping instead of the aggressive rasp of the snow plow dragging across the street? It almost sounded like it was more ir less plowing the asphalt off the earth rather than the snow. More irritating was that it just added to your unsatisfying sleep and rough awakening streak. One good morning was all you asked for... You sat up, slid off the edge of the bed and slipped into your slippers that were neatly set up by its side. A scratch of the head and an adjusting pull of the bun on your head and you headed to you first destination; tea. With heavy steps you dragged yourself out of your room and were met by the surprise you had forgotten was left on your couch from last night, sprawled across the sofa... in only boxers. Oh god. The covers were halfway on the floor, only covering his legs, barely. It was cold too but should you just ignore him... no, you couldn't... but what if you woke him up? He was only in boxers and you were already trying your best not to look but your brain had already registered that they were black and Calvins... please no more information... thigh muscles NO! Chest, focus on the chest. He was breathing, he was alive. Inhale, exhale. You carefully made your way towards him. His chest was toned... the type perfect to rest your head on NO! Messy hair... It really didn't help that your best friend was as attractive as he was. You bent down and carefully picked up the cover, pulling it back up over his upper body. He must've been really cold, his nipples- NO. You shook your head furiously to get rid of the thought. You turned around 180 degrees and marched to the kitchen. Tea. Tea. Tea. Tae. TEA! You could hear the covers rustle as he shifted, followed by a soft groan. Oh no... Please no. Although... why was it so dangerous for him to see you in your own home, making tea. I don't know! But regardless it felt like an action movie stealth scene for the grand heist judging by your heart beat. The boiler was too loud, the accidental clink of the mug as you set it to the counter too, the rip of packaging of the tea bag, the wind whistling outside! Sweat? You were sweating, stress consuming you yet again over the moist pointless little thi- "Hey?" The tea cup smashed against the kitchen floor along with your gasp and you grabbed the door handle of the kitchen cupboard for support. Taehyung starred at you with wide startled eyes. Maybe your screech scared him as much as his sudden presence scared you. "Sorry." He chuckled, voice so deep and raspy you could practically feel his vocal chords vibrate. Your heart was pounding hard. Could he at least have been swaddled in the covers and not in his boxers right now... You diverted your eyes to the porcelain shards across the floor. "Wait wait wait!" Taehyung yelped, holding his hand out to stop you from moving. But it was too late. The dark kitchen along with your giddiness had of course resulted in the unfortunate miss step. You sighed, lifting your foot from the chard as you felt something wet trickle down your foot. Taehyung quickly reached to turn the lights on, the bright shine blinding both of you briefly and making the view of him even clearer. "Stay there." Taehyung ordered. Your kitchen was pretty small so there wasn't much space to move without risking another wrong step. A cup of tea and now all this. You slapped your arms to your sides in a deep pout. Making a new cup now just felt wrong but you craved a cup so bad and it was cold... the floor was cold, you were cold... and not to mention everything hanging in form of heavy weights on your shoulders and chilling on top of the imaginary storm cloud above you right now. It's like your issues were mocking you and just making everything worse. Maybe the issue was that you related to the once-was intact mug. You felt split and unorganized, all over the place and dependent on things you knew you shouldn’t be depending your hope and happiness on but yet day after day you’d lose yourself in a visualization of a scenario of perfection were everything would be ok until again the door was slammed in your face and you had to start all over again. No matter how many times you felt like this time would be different and this time you were ready, this time it'd all go your way because the past was forgiven and your time wasn’t right but again and again .... Your patience was running out. You sniffed, wiping the tears from your cheeks with the back of your hand. Taehyung came back holding a broom and a dust pan when he saw your face of tears. "No..." he sounded panicked. He leaned down quickly sweeping the chards to the side of the kitchen and tossing the broom and pan into the pile so he could approach you. Strong lean arms embarrassed you like out of a 6 different angles k-drama scene. A hand found its place on the back of your head, softly petting you as the other pressed you closer to his warm chest. Never had you expected  that hugging Taehyung would feel this safe. May it be because he was the one you could be truly vulnerable with or that he was the one that knew what was going on right now, but whatever he did... he did it just right. "You don't need to say anything." He whispered. "I know." He squeezed you a little firmer. "I know." He reassured. "Sssh" his hand felt so gentle as it caressed you. "It's going to be ok." He felt so warm. "I'm here." His skin felt so soft against your hands. "I'm not going anywhere." Your heart calmed down. Taehyung didn't pull away until you became silent and your breathing stable. But even then he didn't pull away completely, only enough to look at your face and caress his thumbs under each eye gently. "I'll reheat the water for you." He smiled softly and reached for the switch on the kettle. You didn't want to let go, not just yet. But he slipped away carefully and kneeled to sweep up the shards and discarded the pieces into the bin. He briefly disappeared and came back holding his sweater, arms slipped in and pulling it over his head as he entered, causing his shoulders to naturally flex slightly as he slipped it on. He grabbed two mugs from the cupboard, added a bag in each and filled them with the hot water. You tugged and fidgeted at your sleeve as you watched, feeling unusually shy in his presence. "Come, let’s sit on the sofa" Taehyung said and grabbed a mug in each hand but quickly came to a halt. "Your foot!" You had forgotten about it too. He placed the mugs back down and watched you as you lifted to check the cut. "Fuck." Taehyung said and quickly ripped a piece of kitchen towel off and handed it to you. Holding one hand against the fridge for support and the other wiping the smeared mess on your foot you watched as Taehyung quickly disappeared and reappeared again with your med kit. "Does it hurt?" He asked, rummaging through the kit. "No, it just stings a little." He pulled out some disinfectant solution and eyes you quickly up and down. Before you knew it he was stood in front of you, kneeling slightly as you felt his large hand grab a hold behind your thigh and his arm scooped you up on him. Your heart was back to its rapid pace again. He set you down on the sofa carefully and went back to grab the disinfectant and the tea mugs. He sat on the floor in front of you, soaking a cotton pad with the solution and gentle pulling your foot towards him by the ankle. "Ah, thanks goodness it doesn't seem to be deep." He said with relief, gently dabbing the cotton pad to the wound. It stung a little but it wasn't too bad. "All nice and clean, do you have cute band-aids?" "Only boring plain ones I'm afraid." Taehyung scrunched his nose. "Boo." With a band-aid beneath your foot and your longed for tea in your hands you sat next to him on the sofa. "An eventful morning." "I should become your fulltime caretaker at this point." Taehyung joked. "Not that I'd mind." "Will you pay me?" He raised his brows as well as the mug to his lips. "No way." You smiled. "Charity work is good for karma." "I already have good karma!" Taehyung protested, pretending to be offended. He laughed that trademark warm laugh that was like a smooth cackle that somehow always triggered a little firework to go off in your chest. You smiled, looking into your mug as if it'd tell you a fortune. ... you swallowed and looked up. In winter the sun rose late and had begun its voyage above the horizon, painting the sky a bright warm orange tone as it shined in through the window behind Taehyung. No. You didn't have feelings for him. You just felt some post-event shakiness and nerves and for the matter of a fact you finally got your much needed cry. It must just be your chest feeling lighter thanks to the cry. "So, do you have any planes today?" Taehyung asked. "I don't even know what day it is." "Good, I don't have plans either and it's Saturday for your information. But I do have a potential plan and that is, since I'm already here, to spend the day with you unless you have important to do's, which you shouldn't, because you need a break." He whispered towards the end. "A fmnn break." He repeated, biting his lip on the word to censor himself, but he got his point across. "A break would be nice... but when I try, I feel distressed as if I shouldn't be doing it because I'm wasting my time. I need-" "A distraction" Taehyung filled in. You nodded. "Then thou shall sit here and watch my live-in-action cooking show live from your kitchen." He said cheerfully, slapping his hands to his thighs as he stood up. "Do you have strawberries?" He asked. "In the freezer." "Yes!" He made his way to the kitchen, worth to mention is the open floor plan of your apartment so you could see him well enough from where you were seated. The soft messy curls on his head bounced with him as he walked. He dramatically pointed at you with a spatula in his hand. "Welcome." He said, speaking deeply into the spatula. "The pancake and strawberry smoothie extravaganza extraordinaire show with your host." He point his thumb and index under his chin. "Kim Taehyung." His goofiness never failed to bring a smile to your face. He went to grab his phone on the sofa table. "I need background music...." he hummed as he scrolled, spatula still in his other hand. "Jeopardy music 10 hours?" He looked up at you for an opinion. "Please no." He giggled and a calm upbeat song started playing from him phone as he put it back down and resorted to the kitchen. While frying up the first batch he was spaced out, humming on the theme tune to jeopardy anyway. You had made yourself comfortable on the sofa, lying down. The sofa smelt like him now. The same sweet comforting scent as the hug had... and his coat the numerous times he'd wrapped it around you when it was cold or shielded you from the rain with it. But speaking of memory, thinking back at those often occurring times you were also reminded about how a previous "friend" used to try and provoke you into being nervous and shy in Taehyung's presence. You'd been close for years and maybe she had an issue with that or something but she'd always find ways to tease you in way. Claiming Taehyung was giving you "looks" or "checking you out" in ways she as a self-declared expert in men deemed were of more than friendly nature. And since she as expert of men by that likely thought all men were the same, proves how reliable of a source she was. Taehyung he just.... you were close. She just wanted to make you feel embarrassed and self-conscious and make it awkward between you. You hated thinking about that. It made you overthink and feel awkward. Like an evil loop. You looked up at the breakfast chef, catching his eye as he quickly looked back down to the pancakes. You could get used to this view. Handsome man in boxers and sweater making you pancakes when you’re feeling blue, the headline in your head spelled out. The Zen experience of the kitchen fan being turned off brought stillness and Taehyung emerges with a plate of pancakes, disappearing and re-appearing again after denying your offer to help with the strawberry smoothies, plates, forks, knifes and every suitable pancake topping he had been able to locate in your kitchen. And a tube of mustard as a joke that you only kept in your fridge for when your dad came over to dinner and his weird obsession with having mustard on everything. It was probably even expired. "Enjoy your meal." "You're my hero Taehyung." You said, stabbing a pancake. "I can be your hero baby." You froze. "What?" "Haven't you heard that song?" He smiled. Oh.. "Hero? By Enrique Iglesias?" "Ah, now that you mention it-" "With the weird music video were goes on this road trip with the girl and then he's suddenly rubbing money over her body in this random stone house." "Is this what you binge on youtube at 2am when I wake up to 15 links and emotional texts." "Do not judge me!" You giggled. "I'm not, I like waking up to those texts from you. You sent them to me for a reason." Taehyung smiled shyly. "Yeah... anyhow! I have a suggestion, a proposal, a-" "Go on" "Since I'm your hero, but even I weren't. I thought maybe I could stay here a few days? Only if you want me to, of course. I just-" he became shyer. "I like to think that you seem to feel better when I'm around and you're going through a rough time so I'd like to be there for you, like you are for me." Your heart made its presence in your chest known yet again. "You should think.... because it's true." "So?" "It'd be nice." He smiled widely. "Great! But I do need to go home and pack some clothes and... some pajamas and Yeontan! He is a great comforter trust me, he has cheered me up many times when I've cried." "Cried? What were you crying about?" "Oh- uhm it's nothing, it's ok now so." He swatted it away. "Boys cry too." He joked, but it tasted weird. "But he's staying with my parents this weekend, but if you want I can go pick him up." He suggested. "It's ok, he needs time with his grandparent." Taehyung chuckled. "Well they love their grandson so I'm sure they wouldn't mind having him stay an extra day or two." -- You couldn't help but feel bad that Taehyung had to sleep on the sofa... His bag with clothes and necessities was placed in the hallway and the covers neatly hung over the backrest. "We could take turns and sleep in the bed every other day." "I told you it was fine." Taehyung insisted, again. "I just feel bad..." "Then let’s both sleep in your bed and call it even." "...." your cheeks felt hot. "See, so I'll sleep on the sofa. Don't worry about it!" What does he mean "see"? ... you were simply imagining what excuse to use as to how your head would coincidentally end up on his chest instead of your pillow. "Or we'll both sleep on the sofa, but it might be a bit cramped." He continued. "Maybe this was a bad idea..." "Hey no! No, I'm just joking. Don't feel bad ok." Taehyung's hands smoothed down your arms. "Beds are better at healing wounds on the feet too." You exhaled deeply. "Oh TaeTae..." "Doesn't this feel like we're having a pajama party or sleep over?" He smiled. "Kinda, should we build a blanket fort and watch movies?" His mouth dropped open. "I'm just kidding!" You laughed He pouted. "Oh you want to?" A nod. "You want to build a fort and watch movies?" You asked with more excitement. More enthusiastic nodding. You both cracked up laughing on the sofa together. "I'm serious though." Taehyung grinned. -- You lied awake in your bed, eyes to the ceiling. For some wild reason you both thought it would be a great idea to binge through the entire twilight saga series as a source of comedy but you only made it up to half-way through eclipse when it became too much to handle for both of you. The first movie was easy to mock and laugh at and make fun out if but once it got more serious and romantic in new moon it started getting a little awkward. To say the least, feeling flustered from watching twilight but not due to the movie itself but from the presence of Taehyung right next to you in your make-shift sofa blanket fort. You couldn't stop thinking about him. And he was out there... on your sofa, right now. And who knew if he was in cute polka dot pajamas with his hair a mess on the pillow or his tight fitted boxers and his hair tied up.. You bit your lip, crossing your legs at the visual. You remembered the first time you witnessed Taehyung tie his hair up and how it felt like being punched in the gut. It's not possible to be that attractive. "Then aren't you attracted to him?" The voice echoed in your head. Just because you find someone attractive doesn't mean you're attracted to them! Which is very much true. But Taehyung's personality was attractive too which was harder to justify the same way. And his person. And him. The entire package. You sighed. Maybe the stupidest thing you could do right now was reach for your phone and google "do I have feelings for my best friend?" Ah yes. A quiz. Maybe it wasn't so stupid after all, it'd say maybe you like him but you're not into him at the very most. Question 1, do you find them attractive. Well who wouldn't? And like mentioned it doesn't mean you're attracted to him. Yes. Question 2, do they like you? Pfft... what kind of question is that? How would you know? I don't know... or yes I guess? I mean he clearly likes you as a friend or he wouldn't be up to making all this effort for you but do they mean platonically? You ticked maybe. Question 3, Do you stalk them on social media? What the??? He's your best friend! The algorhythm shoves his posts in your face weather you like it or not. Sometimes. Question 4, Do you see them a lot? Yes. Question 5, Do you want to know more about them? You already know everything ... but what he cries about to Yeontan is something. Yes. Question 6, when you see them with somebody else who isn't considered their friend, how do you feel? Jealous. Question 7, when they're around you how do you feel? Nervous or self-conscious or nothing or i don’t know... well nervous AND a little self-conscious depending on the situation and if he's dressed or in just his boxers. Nervous. Question 8, Do you think about them? Yes. Always. Question 9, Do you laugh at their jokes? Another weird one but yes. Question 10, are they your ex? Huh? No. Definitely. A lot. You placed your phone screen down on your chest and let out a sigh. Maybe visualizing a kiss or two while in the shower was a crime after all... or was the question why were you in the first place? He was amazing in every type of way and you wanted to know if he was amazing at kissing too andmaybeinbed but you can't just ask him that or try it out, so you had to resort to imagination.... Who were you even trying to convince at this point? You liked him. Definitely. And a lot. The realization did nothing to help you fall asleep unfortunately. Another 15 minutes in dark silence passed when you suddenly heard the floorboards squeak. Maybe Taehyung was going to the bathroom or grabbing a glass of water... But the soft pats of his feet should've stopped by now... Your half open door pushed open a bit more shyly and Taehyung peaked in. Dressed in pajama bottoms, but no shirt. "You're awake." He said, whispering. "So are you." "I can't sleep..." he rubbed his arm. "I feel lonely." As if you'd deny him looking all shy and vulnerable in your door. You scooted to the side in your bed, making raise his brows in hope and anticipation, fingers fidgeting. "Come." You said, patting the bed next to you. The bed dipped gently as he lied down and you put the covers over him. He shifted onto his side, placing his head on your pillow. This was better. But since you just took an online quiz to realize you had feelings for this man currently shirtless in your bed, you couldn’t help but feel incredibly awkward. "How come you're feeling lonely?" You asked, trying to conceal your stiffness "To a start I sleep better when I get to hold something." He said shyly "Who?" You asked, intending for it to be a thought. "When I'm at home, Yeontan." Of course... "He lays on the bed and I feel less lonely and hearing him walk around or do something makes me feel soothed knowing I'm not alone... for the most part." "Are the tears you cry... tears of loneliness?" You could tell it triggered something in him. He bit his lip and nodded gently, eyes glossy. "For the most part it's just me and a pillow." He confessed. "But you could say-... it's something like that, yes." Face to face, mere inches apart. You thanked the darkness of the room that he couldn't see you blush right now but unreasonable fear that he'd somehow "sense" it in the atmosphere still worried you. You shouldn't have taken that stupid quiz it only made you start overthinking and it was probably rigged and the questions were weird so why should you listen to it? Get back to your senses! He's your best friend and you're comfortable with him! Calm down! "... I know it's dumb" Taehyung mumbled. "I know it seems like I'm this easy-going social butterfly with lots of friends who can find someone to hang out with within seconds... but when I'm alone at home, I just feel so empty. Like if nobody sees me, I don't exist. Thus when I'm alone, I'm not real anymore." "That's very philosophical, but what if someone thinks about you while you are alone? Then wouldn't you exist since somebody has you on their mind?" "But it'd be impossible for me to know and people have better things to do than walk around and daydream about me." It stung a little inside hearing him say this. "People are actually capable of multitasking you see, they can do these better things you speak of and think about you at the same time. I think about you a lot, sometimes I think about you while doing the laundry, riding the bus or taking a show- that sound's wrong." Taehyung chuckled. "But you get what I mean." "What do you mean?" He asked "That I think about you and that you aren't alone TaeTae, you never are. If you're ever feeling lonely, maybe think about me. If that helps. Or get to know yourself more, become your own friend or create an imaginary friend!" "I already do that." "Have an imaginary friend?" "Think about you." Oh. "... does it help?" You asked shyly. He shook his head. "It just makes me miss you and want to come to see you." Is it possible to experience a softer heart attack than you just did? Rather than a heart exploding in saw gore-level mess it gently poofed and became a small cloud of red feathers gently falling to the ground. Since when had you become a softie? Two hours ago you were all if there's no sex in the romance novel, it's not worth my time but now you suddenly felt an urge to ransack the romance section of the nearest library to read every cheesy romance story you could find until you could find one similar to your own. Your... own? What? With... with Taehyung? ... not that you’d visualize every male lead character as coincidentally similar to him regardless of how their looks were described in the book.... "Maybe I do need to spend some time with myself to get over it..." No! Stay here with me! "I can spend more time with you." Taehyung looked up. "I think that could benefit us both." He sounded more hopeful now. "Well, you're already here so it's also convenient." Despite the darkness you could make out the smile on his face that appeared. Cute. But wait... did Taehyung suggest he could stay here for you, because he felt lonely? He shifted slightly and the sheets rustled. His leg accidently brushed against yours and your first thought was to tangle your legs with his in a leg tackle war... but you still felt too on edge to act casual and playful with him like you normally could. You swallowed. "How long have you felt this way?" "A while... a long while. At first it was nothing but then it got worse and even more worse when I realized this one thing." "What thing was that if I may ask?" He sighed. "It's hard to explain... but, say a friend." "Mhm?" "A friend feels kinda lost, existentialism and stuff going on, doesn't like to be by himself, then he finds this person and they make him forget it all but once they’re apart it all returns to him again like they were his escape but only for as long as they were together." "Is that only with that one person or all?" "No no, only that person. And then he realizes he might be in love, or he's addicted to the person in a way, but in a good way not an obsessive way just-" "In love?" "Something like that." "You're in love?" "Huh?! What no! This was about a friend! I'm not talking about me!" "Then what did you realize Taehyung?" You could tell his mind briefly blanked in panic. "I realized that maybe I, as said friend need to find that person for me." "A person?" He nodded shyly. "You want to fall in love?" "I don't know... something like that." 'Something like that' seemed to be his catchphrase this evening. But in love? A person? His person?... that couldn't be you... could it? Did he want you to be his person? Were you his person?? The questions and confusion kept spiraling through your head, (finally) making you feel tired and exhausted. "I think... I just want to tend to someone else than myself, to not have to think so much about it and instead take care of somebody else." "Is that why you offered to stay?" "Yes and no, I want to take care of you because I am genuinely concerned and worried about you, I want to be there for you. But also, sleeping on the couch last night, hearing you tiptoe around the kitchen... it made me feel comforted." His voice sounded drowsy. "If you want... I can be your person in this scenario." You suggested. "You've already become.. person." He mumbled, sinking deeper into his half-awake state. -- You stretched your leg out one at the time, twisting your body gently and inhaling deeply into a stretch, gently batting your eyes open. You pushed a palm against the bed to get up into a seated position when something suddenly restrained you, heavy over your abdomen. Surprised, you raised the sheet to see the reminder of what you had forgotten last night. Over your waist, a lean arm with faint thin dark hairs and a few subtle veins travelling up the forearm from the large hand clung to the side of your waist... all attached to the source of warmth to your left, Taehyung. His dark locks a mess on the pillow, his bare upper body now fully on display in the daylight and his polka dot pajama pants haven travelled down a bit too far low for your sanity... Cursed be the eyes in your skull for travelling down the view. You would've noticed it sooner or later regardless, especially since your thigh was  a hair between touching it. It, being the weird relief of knowing he got some deep relaxing sleep in... but with an awkward morning surprise... and his arm wouldn't grant you freedom without you accidentally or intentionally having to wake him up. You carefully shifted to at least have your thighs at a safer distance, but your bed wasn't intended for two people, so it was easier said than done. His grip suddenly tightened and a low groan escaped him as he shifted. Why did you feel fear as if you shouldn’t be present in your bed in which he entered himself. If anyone Taehyung should be the one fearing his life right now. His thumb caressed your side gently and it felt nice... soothing. Until his eyes suddenly opened wide with a soft gasp as you felt his morning hard on grace against your thigh. Eyes that pleaded and begged you didn't notice pierced into yours and you decided to play along. "Did you sleep well?" His hand quickly retreated to your disappointment. "Sorry i... I did it in my sleep it wasn't-" "It's ok, you said you sleep well holding something and being held didn't feel too bad..." "Well, in that case, I actually slept better than I have in a really long time." He said, voice raspy and deep still. He rolled onto his back, thankfully, and placed his hand behind his head. "Did you?" "Huh?" "Did you sleep well?" "In fact, I did." You said, answering truthfully and resisting the urge to put your head on his bare chest. If only the lord or whoever would stop testing me... "Hungry?" He asked. You nodded. "Great, I'll fix something ok, but close your eyes." "Why?" "I'm shirtless." ... right. You covered your eyes with your hands and the warmth left your side as he got up and escaped the room. You slowly got up, trying to win some time for him but a few brief seconds later heard the sound of the bathroom door down the hall closing and locking. Yikes. That went smoother than expected. You set up some tea, knowing Taehyung described coffee as the closest to unlethal poison you could find, you knew he'd prefer tea or hot chocolate and that there was no use to ask. You knew him too well. It was nice having him here. And waking up with a strong arm around your waist wasn't too bad either... if only you could've let yourself enjoy the moment instead of freaking out, what if he grew cautious now and you'd never experience it again? You sighed softly, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard. After a while, the kettle clicked and you poured some water into each mug. It had been a while now... ... was he meditating in there? There was no sound of the shower, or anything, not that you were listening. Would it be weird if you asked if he was ok? Since the kettle was off the entire apartment became significantly more silent. You heard a faint mumble. "Fuck..." You swallowed. Ear please momentarily turn off, mind and imagination too please. You reached to put the kettle back on but since the water was already hot it clicked off again after 5 seconds. The bathroom door opened and you braced yourself to not look down. Luckily, he was now wearing his oversized sweater or else you would've failed immediately. He let out a soft chuckle. "I spaced out." His cheeks were flushed red and glowing. Right. "I made you some tea." -- Why were deep topics always easier to talk about at night? Were people like clams? You wake up and it opens a little and once we hit the night the clam is fully open and then closes during sleep to a new no-talk-me-I-not-have-tea-yet to ask-me-about-how-i-view-existentialism cycle? Or were nights just vulnerable with the darkness? In that case you should metaphorically speaking be an open clam all day during winter when the sun goes into its own hibernation. But here you were again, just like last night, except... 20 minutes into the sudden power outage that made your impromptu movie night come to a halt. And it was getting really cold. Bundled up under a cover together, staring at the flicker of the candle on the coffee table in silence. "I was going to offer to make you tea to warm you up but the kettle..." Taehyung said with a soft chuckle. "The power will probably come back any moment soon." He said optimistically. As you looked out of the window earlier, you noticed it wasn't just your place, but the entire block seemed to have an outage. Unusual. But the current roaring rain storm outside likely had something to do with it. The wind was aggressive, the windows shook, it whistled in a creepy way and the trees outside rustled loudly. "How about we play a game?" Taehyung suddenly suggested, breaking off the silence again. He was feeling awkward, you could tell. He always rested his hands in his lap, fidgeting or poking at the cuticles of his nails when he felt awkward. "Sure, what should we play?" His face lit up. "Questions and answers? I can start!" "Shoot!" You folded your legs and shifted to face him on the couch. "What's your ideal type." ... he... immediately went there. "Looks or personality?" Taehyung shrugged. "Both." "Well it depends on the vibe they give off of course... and mainly. I guess tall, but it's not that important, wide shoulders are always nice." You paused to think, how can I describe Taehyung without it sounding like I'm describing Taehyung. "Funny, caring, optimistic, outgoing..." "Like me!" He smiled widely. You leaned back, squinting while caressing your chin, examining him playfully. "Hmmmn" He placed his hands under his jaw, like he was displaying his face and batted his eyelashes. "Not bad, not bad." He looked disappointed. "Just not bad?" You playfully nudged his arm. "It's your turn to answer. "Fine." He pouted, crossing his arms over his chest but cracking a giggle. "I'll ask you the same question." "Very original, you." "It's called recycling, so tell me." "I did." "Huh?" "You." Your heart froze briefly before beginning to pound. "Me?" "Mn!" He said confidently. "You're not bad" he mocked. You swallowed. "I have a question about the rules." "Go on" "If I ask you anything, do you have to tell the truth?" "Yes! Nothing but. So you better tell me what you actually think rather than 'not bad'" "Is the friend you talked about actually you? And am I the person?" He tensed up, swallowing. "I guess it was obvious..." he mumbled, rubbing his arm and looking down at his lap. "I just..." he began, but reluctance interrupted him. "I understand." You said. He looked up, seemingly surprised yet still tensed "I make you feel less lonely." He nodded slowly. "Which makes sense. After all we're best friends." You continued. "... right." He looked away. "Best friends." Taehyung reached up to move his hair away from his eyes, still facing down as if he was considering something. "So... what do you think of me?" His voice sounded more serious. Where to start of course he was gorgeous! Wide shoulders, a build you'd die to slide your hands down, dark big eyes, a sweet smile with plump lips, sculpted perfectly and his honey skin. Person wise... he was someone you'd want to have as your person. "A nice person" He scoffed. "Seriously?" He seemed upset. He finally looked up, meeting your gaze. There was a sparkle in his eye. The warm light from the candle made his face glow even more. "I mean person as in the person you have, a your-person" "A nice your-person?" He tilted his head. "You told me yesterday in bed that you can feel like someone is your person because they bring you comfort and make all your problems go away and you feel better just by being in their presence! A nice that-type-of-person." "But I was talking about you!" He pleaded "And now I'm talking about you." "You are my person, what do you mean?" He asked, placing emphasis on "my" "That you're my person too. Am I being unclear?" "No, not at all. I just wanted to hear you say it." "So you tricked me?" You scoffed. "Not really." He leaned closer. "But maybe I set you up and you simply walked into my trap." "So now what? We're just going to sit here in denial over the fact that we both admitted to being each other's person?" You questioned, feeling slightly panicky and picking at your nails. Was this platonic or not? "We don't have to" he grinned. "But to be clear, I'm not talking about you being my person as in my other half, my best friend type person, even though you are that too bit this isn't it." "Are you trying to tell me that you're in love with me?" He tensed up again. Fuck it. "Then just say it, stop confusing me with your riddles and metaphors and I won't do the same. Just tell me-" His hand pressed against the back of your head as he leaned in almost all the way. He caressed the back of your head gently and your gaze dropped to his soft pink lips with the tiny freckle to the side. You leaned in close enough to brush a gentle touch before Taehyung pressed you closer for your lips to finally collide. It started off desperate yet a little shy. You pressed back, grabbing at his sides and the kiss deepened. Your heart was pounding. Never did you expect he'd just go for it and kiss you when you showed some bold courage towards him but you didn’t have a slightest regret because he tasted so good against your mouth. His plump pink lips so passionate, so needy but also so gentle and triggering an explosion in your chest. Taehyung leaned over you, making you lay down on the couch as he crawled on top and it turned into an even wilder heated make out. Your hand tangled into his hair, his hand rubbed against the side of your waist under your top. Fearing it'd be the first, last and only, you wanted every single piece of this moment you could have. Unintentional, his touch triggered a soft moan to escape your throat, which subsequently triggered a groan from Taehyung. Making a sound like that with his voice should be illegal. It did things to you, things you didn't want to confess. But the box of secret confessions was torn open within seconds as Taehyung, a heavy breathing mess suddenly pulled away from your lips and landed by your ear, exhaling deeply. "Fuck, I'm hard." He groaned and you knew the box was flying out the windows with your filthy confession floating aimlessly around for him to hear but all you managed to stutter out was a choked "huh?" "If you knew how long I've wanted you for." He whispered. "How scared I've been of being rejected because I knew it'd shatter me." The hopeless romantic you knew he was made his attendance known. "A friend?" You chuckled. "Maybe I set myself up with that one, I admit. But I was hoping you'd catch on." He chuckled, still breathless. He planted a kiss against your neck. Were you about to have sex? Would it lead to that? Did you mind? Certainly not... Taehyung pushed up slightly, looking down at you. "May I?" You nodded and he smiled widely, pressing a kiss to your lips. Shifting, he easily found his place between your thighs and grinded up against you slowly with pressure, causing both of you to exhale into a sweet needy moan. Your feelings felt scattered all over the place but this wasn't the time to pick them up. You wanted to let go, to surrender, just for this moment. Let go of everything clawing at your back, clouding the sunny skies and draining you. There is nothing more exhausting than smiling pretending everything is ok while whatever inflated issue in beast form is clawing its nails across your back and the scars sting like lemon juice was just rubbed all over you, feeling disgusting and sticky, let alone in pain and with a sore back from the held tension. He grinded again, sensually this time as the tip of his nose travelled up your neck, inhaling your sweet scent. "Mmm" he hummed softly. Your hand made its way to his nape as he settled by your neck. "I could fall asleep here." He chuckled. "Right here in your neck, it's so warm and smells so nice. It's more effective than lavender." "Are you enchanted by my odor?" He laughed his trademark bubble laugh. "I wish you knew how much fun you are." He squeezed you, rubbing up firmer to you with a desperate grunt. "Fuck I can't take it anymore." He stood on his knees, crossing his arms in front of him and grabbing the hem of his sweater, pulling it up and off, exposing his soft skin and toned chest as it fell to the floor. His hand reached for the button on his pants but before making it to the zipper his attention returned back to you with his hands sliding up under your top and pulling it up over your head. "I just want to make sure again... is it ok?" He asked, eyes big. "Yes, touch me, kiss me, do whatever you want just don’t leave the couch. At least not without me." He smirked at this, finally able to surrender to his greed. Taehyung reached for the waistline of your pants, unbuttoning, unzipping and pulling them down your hips with your underwear going off with them. His fingers softly rakes over your skin as he travelled down your legs, your hips lifted to assist him and then they were tossed onto the floor. He reached for his own zipper again but you sat up, quickly swatting his hand away and reaching for it yourself. He was on his knees between your thighs. You pulled them down, sliding your hands over his soft curved hips, revealing his tight fitted boxers with little to any space left for his hard on. You swallowed. He blushed. Relieved that Taehyung took over the lead again you lied back down as his hands gently pushed you back, slipping the bra straps off your shoulders and reaching behind you to unhook and free you from your final piece of clothing. But with this one he wasn't in a rush. He slowly tugged at the lacey fabric, revealing your chest to him as he bit his lip. "Wow." He mumbled and his patience was gone. One hand grabbed your left boob, feeling it and squeezing it softly as the other slipped into his boxer to touch himself. He whimpered, seemingly trembling as a result of his desperation and the discomfort he must be feeling in those tight pair of... he let go of your boob, quickly pulling his boxers down and himself out. You felt your core twist and ache and his boxers joined the pile of clothes on the floor. Taehyung fell forward onto all fours on top of you. Fully exposed, fully erect and a full sight to take in in the dim light in the dark. Distracted and eyes travelling all over him, his hand suddenly cupped your chin, tilting it up for you to face him. His nose graced over yours in a sweet eskimo kiss before his lips, just as gently pressed to yours. Taehyung's hand slid down your neck, your chest and down until he found himself. Your toes curled as you felt his touch where you wanted him the most in this moment, the tip of him slowly sliding up and down your slit, triggering your need even more. Taehyung let out a shaky exhale. His lips were parted and eyes staring right down at your exposed curves. He positioned himself, slowly sliding the tip in, just to feel... just to get some urgent relief... he leaned his head back and his hands landed a tight grip of your waist. He couldn't take it anymore. Slowly and carefully he began to push. Making sure by studying your every expression that he wasn't hurting you and that it felt good. A sweet whimper escaped you, causing him to grin in delight as he pushed in deeper. He was thick... the gentle stretch he caused felt amazing and you couldn't stop yourself from clenching around him, making him moan and managing to make you even wetter just by the sound. With a soft grunt he slipped in all the way. Giving you a moment to adjust to his size, he moved his hand up to caress your cheek with the back of his hand. His touch felt like magic. Like a gentle feather smoothing over your cheek, but slender and strong, with long dainty beautiful fingers. You leaned into his touch. "Does it feel ok?" He whispered. You gave a reassuring nod. He pulled his hips back and thrusted back in, not too soft and not too hard he picked up a slow but deep rhythm for his movements. Your hands felt their way up and across his back, studying every curve and where he naturally flexed as he moved. His hands were firmly holding you in place at the waist, every desperate exhale and every shaky inhale sending almost an ASMR like tingle down your spine via your ear until your name suddenly slipped his lips. Most people feel a fuzzy like feeling inside hearing their proper name be called but this... this was unlike no other time. His deep voice, following a whimper, exhaling your name like a magic spell and it fading into a shiver-causing moan. To put it simply it was the sexiest thing you've ever heard and it activated a whole new part within you that felt foreign but so so so good. Like your blood had suddenly turned into liquid gold, all happy hormones releasing in a firework spelling the world "nothing else matters" in an imaginary sky. You wrapped your arms tighter around him, moaning his name out felt liberating. And it clearly triggered an equal reaction. His cheeks were already flushed and his eyes went wide. He smirked, growing more desperate, fucking your harder and deeper, chasing release. "Please cum for me." He whispered, pleading. "Please." He didn't need to place a formal request, you were already loosing yourself. The only sound echoing in the darkness being the roaring wind and rain along with your breaths and groans and the sound of his hips and your thighs. Wet, heavenly sounds to you. His sweet moans, his broad back, his dick... everything about him made you feel euphoric. The ever building tension below, the sweat forming on his forehead... "I'm gonna cum" he whimpered. Thinking your body couldn't possibly react stronger to him than it already was, it did. The thrusts grew faster, grunts louder and you could feel yourself leak even more. Back arching, tension growing... it felt even tighter now... you could feel him so well, every movement until you suddenly came un-done with a loud whimper to his ear, setting him off into his own orgasm, cumming deep inside with a string of "oh"s and groans, gritting his teeth together and tensing his face in a greedy expression. He slowed down to a halt, remaining inside, breathless on top of you. The light on the sofa table had reached its end and the faint scent of smoke filled the air as the flame went out, making the room completely pitch black. Taehyung's face nuzzled softly against your neck, inhaling the scent of you deeply  and being soothed. "Wow." He coughed, followed by a groan. "Wow." You repeated, happy that the light went out so he couldn’t see your flushed face. "You ok?" He whispered, vulnerability present in his voice. "I didn't go to hard right?" "It was amazing." He let out a breath of release and an awkward chuckle. "I'll pull out.." he said shyly, moving his hips back slowly and gently, slipping out. To your surprise, Taehyung climbed off of you, standing on his feet. The cold air made your nipples ache and your skin shiver. You wanted your human blanket and source of heat back. But you didn’t have to wait for long. A pair of strong arms slid in under you, lifting you up with ease. "The sofa is too tiny." He carried you into your bedroom, gently putting you back down on the bed and laying down on his side next to you, pulling you close to his chest where his heart was still pounding hard. He hugged you tight, caressing the back of your head. His lips pressed against the crown of your head gently. "My good girl." He whispered, sounding almost proud. Your cheeks burned and a weird sense to cry bubbled up but you quickly swallowed it and hugged him tighter, burying your face against his chest. Never had you thought being called a good girl, specifically "Taehyung's" good girl would be able to move you to tears. But maybe it's what you needed to hear, mixed with the hormonal serotonin cocktail your body just released upon you. "You'll always have me." He nuzzled his nose in your hair. With a click the power came back on, including your pink hue nightstand lamp next to the bed. Taehyung's cheeks were deeply flushed, amplified by the flattering pink light cast over him. You giggled.   Had this really just happened? Because it felt so right. Or was it just the relief of sex? But masturbating had never made you feel this emotional before... You looked up at Taehyung's face again and he smiled softly, his hand caressing your bare back up and down. It was definitely him.
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whump-a-la-mode · 3 years
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Would it be possible to get the aftermath of a heroic whumpee who went up against someone incredibly far out of their league? Kind of along the lines of that one time Dazzler went up against the Juggernaut on her own (A heroine with light projection powers vs a villain with the power of unstoppable force) and ended up being beaten to the point where she was too weak to move. The other heroes become her caretakers for a little while. I loved that arc and could really use something similar.
I can hardly describe how much I love this prompt. I absolutely adore it, and I can only hope that you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! I think I’m somewhat familiar with Dazzler, though when I looked through the wiki, I couldn’t find anything about this story? The wiki may just be incomplete, though. It reminds me of a story arc of the original ms. marvel, too!
This is absolutely one of my favorite kinds of whump, and I really hope that I did it justice. Thank you so much for the ask!
CW//Medical settings, poison, therapy, paralysis, inability to speak, self-hatred, low self-esteem, hair-pulling
The metal doors at the entrance to the Metropolis General Emergency Room swung upon with the force of a thunder clap. And, just as thunder, they too heralded lightning.
Or, at the very least, light.
A pair of lab-coats pushed forth a gurney on ratta-tatta-tattling caster wheels, footsteps crashing on the floor in even rhythm. Close behind, an entourage of two sprinted in close pursuit: A pair of heroes in civilian clothes.
“Lux!”
To the person laid upon the gurney, the voice felt to be emanating from a thousand miles away. Or more. Maybe a couple thousand, or a million... It was hard to think about numbers when their mind was stuffed with cotton, and their vision was dominated by blurry white ceiling tiles.
“What in the world happened to them?” The doctor that spoke had had all sense of clinical professionalism drained from their tongue.
“We don’t know.” A hero, outfitted in jeans and sweater, replied in a single, slurred sound. “We just found them, and-”
It was too loud. Far, far too loud-- Lux felt as though the full force of the ocean had made the sudden decision to crash into their eardrums. And, beneath at all, the caster wheels refused to stop their clitter-clatter. Spikes piercing their temples, they let out the tiniest of cries.
A tiny sound, and all eyes were on them.
“Lux!”
“Lux, what in the world happened to you?”
“What the hell did you do?”
“Talk to us!”
“Wake up!”
“Wake up.”
“Lux. Lux, what did you do?”
Lux, what did you do?
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The support beam shook against the force of the body, hurled at it. Shudders rocked from the base to the top, threatening for the thousandth time the structural stability of the building.
And the structural stability of Lux’s ribs.
With several hoarse coughs, the hero struggled to hands and knees, joints wobbling as though the ground they were braced against were the epicenter of an earthquake.
They could taste it.
They could taste what they had been inflicted with, more than they could feel it. The wound upon their side had long since gone numb-- at the very least, the poison had that benefit to it. Now, the sensation had migrated to Lux’s tongue. A bitter flavor of burnt coffee.
Even if they had the chance, they had no desire at all to examine the gash that had been torn across their side. They’d heard the stories, seen the headlines.
Lux knew what happened to Mercury’s victims.
That was why they were here, after all.
“Had enough yet, kid?”
The voice was booming, sounding from the other side of the half-toppled warehouse. In their weakened state, Lux could barely raise their head high enough to meet the eyes of their foe.
Mercury’s height was unimportant, as was their general stature. After all, it was hard to focus on his body. It was hard to focus on anything but the claws-- terrible, wicked things curling outwards from his knuckles.
A single slash from them, and flesh would begin to curl away, to rot. To necrose.
The wound they had been inflicted with was already a death sentence. But, not an immediate one-- Lux had a bit of time left on death row.
A bit of time to make this right.
Shivering, the hero stood to their feet, facing their opponent from a hundred foot’s distance. It was the most ridiculous of match-ups. A chihuahua against a pit bull. A garden snake against a cobra.
That didn’t mean that Lux couldn’t try.
“Firefly wants another round, then?” The villain’s voice curled, almost as venomous as their blades. “Try me, kid.”
And try they did.
Hands balled to fists at their side, Lux took one, single step forth, stomping onto the warehouse’s concrete floor with a decisive strike.
It was as though a bomb had gone off.
The world was swallowed, all at once, by white. Light engulfed each shadow, each color, until the universe was as blank as unexposed photo paper.
It was merely a distraction, a smokescreen. But they needed time to recover. Time to catch their breath.
Time to remember why they were doing this.
In the world of heroes, Mercury had a particular nickname-- “The Untouchable.” He was the lion in the zoo. No one dared get near him, much less touch him. It was a death sentence, to be slashed by his claws. The heroes were terrified of him, and that gave him a free license to tear the world to shreds.
It was from one of their villainous informants that Lux had heard of the plan initially. The water supply. Mercury had found a way to distill the poison held within their claws, and they intended to release it into the city water supply.
To kill every last citizen of Metropolis.
But the others turned merely a blind eye. No one would touch the villain. They had resigned themselves to dealing with the aftermath.
That would mean deaths. That would mean ‘acceptable causalities.’
To Lux, there was no such thing as an acceptable causality. Only a problem that needed to be solved.
Their teammates had insisted, begged, nearly, that they not be so careless. But, when had Lux even been known as the careful one?
Not once in their life.
“Stop this, Mercury!” The hero snapped into the expanse of white. “Just-”
Lux did not so much as see the fist before it connected. Did not so much as feel the claws, raking their neck.
Not before the world went from black to white.
Lux, what did you do?
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“You did it.”
Those were the first words that Lux heard clearly, after escaping from their haze. Consciousness teased them as the world above turned from colors to shapes to vision.
White tiles, spotless and all in a row. Their perfect nature was threatened only by an out-of-place beeping that nearly forced the hero to once more fall to sleep.
But, they managed to cling to consciousness as they turned their head to the side, revealing a figure, interrupting their view of the tiles overhead.
A figure. A person. A-
“You did it, Lux.”
Nora. Nora, their friend, their teammate, their comrade. Not Mercury. Not a villain. If Nora was here, then they were safe. The hero had an almost supernaturally calming way about herself, located somewhere between her wispy tangle of black hair and the way her movements imitated the performance of a dancer.
But, wait- Why wasn’t she in uniform? No, now she bore only the clothes of a civilian.
No. No, of course she wasn’t wearing a uniform. Lux had gone on a mission, yes. But it hadn’t been with their team.
They’d tried to stop Mercury, and-
“The water’s safe.” Nora’s voice was only just as smooth as her movements. “Mercury’s been contained. You did it.”
“And by god, what were you thinking?!”
The shout sent a stabbing agony through the side of Lux’s skull. That was more so the reaction they had expected.
Nickel. The most paranoid superhero on planet Earth.
Lux struggled to open their lips, to bring forth an explanation. To state that they had been doing what was right. That they had been doing what a hero should have done.
And yet...
And yet, their lips refused to so much as twitch. Too, their tongue sat dead in their mouth, numb and useless.
The only muscle in their body that functioned was their heart, which in that moment began to race.
“You could’ve died!” Nickel’s tirade continued, despite the fact that the target was showing not a single reaction. “Or worse! You could’ve died, or worse, or both! That was so stupid.
Don’t give me the silent treatment, dammit. Explain yourself!”
Lux wanted so desperately to do so. Their heartbeat turned, now, to a pounding tattoo within their skull, the pedal of a bass drum, slamming against the inside of their cranium.
They couldn’t move.
A twitch of the head. A blink, maybe. That was all. That was all they had left.
Lux had saved the world.
Their vision began to swirl.
Lux had saved the world, but what had they given up in exchange?
Telling when the hero fell unconscious was nearly impossible. Yet, when their eyes at last drifted closed, it became clear that whatever wakefulness they had had was now extinguished.
That left two heroes, one proud and one paranoid, leaning over a hospital bed. Shivering both in their own rights, Nickel and Nora stood. It was with great care that the room’s entrance was pushed open. The doctor that did so walked backwards-- their hands were quite thoroughly occupied by a clipboard.
Nickel and Nora said not a word, as speechless as their teammate. They both knew that this was the bringing of news.
This doctor was the bearer of their friends fate.
“They’re going to live.”
That was what they started with. 
“With medical care, Lux will survive this ordeal. However, they will need to stay under intensive care until their immediate symptoms subside.”
Nora stared blankly for a long moment, before whispering:
“They aren’t moving. They aren’t talking.”
The doctor could manage only the more sympathetic of nods. Again, they repeated themself, but, this time, with an addition:
“Lux is going to live. But, most likely, they will never be the same. The poison has taken its toll on their system. There’s no cure. No antidote.
One day, they may be able to move, or speak. But, they have a very, very long road ahead of them.”
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Very, very long was an understatement.
No, the doctor would have been better have describing Lux’s journey as a highway from Moscow to Las Vegas.
“The rains in Spain fall mainly on the plain.”
“Da ra’zz spa- ff mm a pla.”
“The rains in Spain fall mainly on the plain.”
“Za ree z’pa fa ma- play.”
“One more try. The rains in Spain-”
“Nnn- oh! No!”
The lab-coated doctor sitting before Lux set down their clipboard with a heavy sigh, sending only another bubble of rage rising in the hero’s chest. They balled their hands into fists, shaking them furiously before placing their open palms upon their temples.
Lux hated this. Lux hated every last minute, every last instant of this. They hated the doctor. They hated the doctor’s office they had to sit in, walls covered from floor to ceiling with charts of vowels and consonants. More than anything, they hated their exercises.
It should have been simple! Eight words. Eight simple words. If they could repeat them properly, then they would never have to go to one of these stupid appointments ever again.
But, they couldn’t. They couldn’t say eight simple words. In fact, they couldn’t even say one.
A month in the hospital, and Lux could not so much as speak. It made them want to tear their hair out! In fact, they would do that, had they had the motor control for it.
But, they didn’t. They didn’t have anything.
The last month had been the longest of the hero’s existence. Hell, those thirty days had felt to be longer than the rest of their entire life, put together! Thirty days and thirty nights of utter hell.
When they had gone off to face Mercury on their own, Lux had been very well prepared to die. They had not been prepared for this.
From the outside, the progress that the hero was making was undeniable. They had begun in a state of complete and utter paralysis, able to move their head, their eyes, and not a thing else. It was only with thrice-a-day physical therapy that they had begun to move. First, it was only moving their head. Then, their arms. Their legs. By the end, they could even sit up, with the help of a helping hand.
Every day, Lux’s teammates visited. And, every day, they congratulated their friend on their progress.
But, as far as Lux was concerned, it had been a month, and they hadn’t made an inch of progress. As hard as they tried, they were still laid up in a hospital. Still broken. Still useless.
They knew that their friends were trying. They knew-- it was evident on their expressions. Those constant, stupid looks of pity. They would never speak about their own lives, about their missions. The villainous plots they’d stopped, the battles they’d won. No. They focused only on the mundane: Where they’d gone for lunch, how they’d spent their evening.
It was out of pity. Lux knew that. It was all pity. But, in all truth, those were the only moments during which they ever felt, truly, like themself. Like Lux.
Like a hero.
So they’d heard, the media had praised them, lauded them for their victory. But they never spoke of the sacrifice it had taken.
Their friends’ visits were the only parts of the day that Lux had to get forward to. The rest of their life was filled with... this.
“Lux.” The doctor coaxed. “You need to do your exercises. You’re already getting so much better! But you won’t make any progress if you don’t try.”
“Don’ thwaa ex- thwaa ta.”
“Don’t want exercises, want talk?”
Lux narrowed their eyes. But, that had been what they were trying to say. The fact that it needed to be repeated, interpreted, however, made them feel sick.
“You need your exercises, Lux. How about we just try one more time? I know you can do it. You’re already doing so well!”
Eight simple words. Eight simple words, and Lux could be a hero again. Eight words, and they could be a person again.
“Okay, Lux. Repeat after me: The rains in Spain fall mainly on the plain.”
“Tha ran-”
Yet, that was all they could make out. Lux’s throat ran dry of words, void of syllables. They couldn’t speak before, and now, they couldn’t so much as make a sound.
They never cried in front of others. Never. Yet, that rule had been broken in the hospital already a dozen times. And, so it seems, this would make thirteen.
Lux’s chest was wracked with heavy sobs as they buried their face in their hands. Soon, tears leaked from beneath their shaking fingers.
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“I’m right here for you, Lux. Lean on me all you need.”
Nora’s voice carried the same cadence as water, meandering through a stream. Too, of course, did her gestures. A gentle, yet firm hand took Lux by the wrist, wrapping their arm around their comrade’s shoulder.
“It’s going to be hard, okay? It’s going to be hard. It’s okay to get tired. And you don’t have to get it on your first try. Or your fifth. Or your hundredth.”
Lux stopped listening on the last part.
This was it. The final gauntlet. Nearly an entire season spent within hospital walls-- now came their test. Everything counted on it. As far as they were concerned, it was a matter of life or death.
If they succeeded, they were home free. They could be brought home by their teammates-- of course, while still attending outpatient physical therapy, but still! They would be home.
And, yet, if they failed? They would be placed back in their hospital room. They would continue to be useless, a burden on both doctor and friend alike.
Everything was riding on this. Lux took a deep breath, and opened their eyes to face their challenge:
A hallway.
They had studied it extensively. Seven feet in width, and perhaps twenty in length. A tiny little thing, used only to get between two particular rooms. It was in the very depths of the hospital; that was why they were using it. There was no chance of distraction, of interruption.
“Are you ready, Lux?”
“Yesthh.”
“Okay.”
Their weight was leaned, nearly entirely, upon Nora. But, that didn’t matter. It wasn’t a test of standing on their own. If that was the test, they’d never get out of this hellish place. All they had to do was make it to the end of the hallway, with help. They could go slowly. They could lean. They could rest.
They only had to make it to the end.
Nora placed one foot forward, waiting for Lux to do the same, which they did, slowly and shakily. It was in this manner that they moved. One foot, one foot, staying always in the slowest of locksteps.
For Nora, it was simple.
For Lux, it was agony. Their knees felt mere milliseconds away from buckling, legs straining under the weight of the rest of them, even as the vast majority of it was leaned onto their friend.
Five feet. Five tiny, minuscule steps. That was how far Lux made it.
And then they were falling.
They did not remember the fall, not really. One moment, their knees had given out. And, the next, they were on their side, on the carpet.
Shaking.
This had been it. This had been their chance. All they had to do was walk down a hallway, that was it! Then, they could have gone home. Then, they could have been with their friends.
Then, they could have finally been a hero again.
And they’d failed. They’d failed the simplest of tasks.
In that moment, a certainty struck Lux like a dagger to the chest: They were never going to get better. Never. It didn’t matter how many exercises they did, how many doctors they saw. This whole thing was pointless! They were going to be worthless until the end of time.
On the floor, Lux screamed. It was a babbling, incoherent thing, as most sounds they made were. Too, they began to thrash, slamming their fists into the floor as they howled in anguish.
Then, they weren’t thrashing anymore. They couldn’t.
Lux had no need to open their eyes to tell what was happening. They knew Nora’s footsteps, knew the sound of her racing over. The feeling of her, hauling them into her arms. Holding them close.
They knew, also, the sounds of doors opening. Of more footsteps, familiar footsteps. Of chattering voices. Their friends’ voices.
Their whole-
Lux’s breath caught in their throat.
In order to avoid distraction, it had only been them and Nora in the room. They had assumed that it was only Nora who had visited that day. And, yet, they knew these voices.
Their whole...
Their whole team. Their whole team had come to watch. They counted every voice, every pair of footsteps. Every last one of their friends had come to watch them succeed.
But, they’d only watched them fail. Lux expected heckling, expected to be berated.
They did not expect the half-dozen pairs of arms, wrapped around them. They didn’t expect to be the center of a group hug.
“You’re doing so well.”
“You got so far!”
“Just a little more practice, and you’ll be back out there fighting crime in no time.”
“You’re almost there!”
“That’s the furthest you’ve been able to walk yet!”
“We’re proud of you.”
Lux’s tears did not stop.
And, yet, they realized something:
They were no longer tears of sorrow.
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