#everything else.... well that would have to be left behind to burn if it came to it.

[thatrandombystander]

Australia's not even into the second month of Spring yet, the firies are way behind schedule on backburning cause of wet conditions having made it difficult, it's too unseasonably warm right now and a whole bunch of schools waaaay down the bottom of the NSW South Coast were shut down as a precaution because there's a Catastrophic level fire warning for the area there.....

Bruh this Summer is not gonna be good 😬😬😬

Edit:

Why is Auspol trending and why is this post right there. Is everyone just that concerned about the fires or what's going on.

[lovebugism]

omggg im craving a halloween themed , rockstar!eddie x shy!reader at a halloween party , matching costumes and everything & he sees a ton of guys hitting on her & is like ???? my baby?

here you go lovie! hope you like it! — eddie takes his girl to a bar on halloween and gets jealous when guys hit on you like you're not already his (shy!reader, rockstar!eddie, established relationship, 1k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

The world didn’t know you before today.

You’ve been just Eddie Spaghetti’s girlfriend for so long — but now you’re Eddie Munson, up-and-coming rockstar and lead of Corroded Coffin’s girlfriend. The title carries a certain weight with it. You wear it with pride, but it weighs you down just the same. 

What’s weird about tonight, though, is you’re not sharing Eddie with the rest of the world like you thought you would. He’s having to share you, because everyone and their goddamn brother’s been all over you all night. 

Apparently, your coquettish rendition of The Bride of Frankenstein is making everyone else as crazy as it’s making him.

“God, go save your girlfriend, Munson,” Gareth jokes across the booth, laughing into his drink as he watches yet another guy stop you at the bar. “At least one of these assholes is gonna steal her from you.”

“She’s not property, dude. She can’t get stolen,” Jeff scolds from beside him, then flashes Eddie a sheepish glance. “But, yeah, the odds aren’t in your favor, Eds.”

Eddie pays no mind to his friends’ teasing — or the anger swirling like fire in the pit of his stomach. 

“Nah. She’s alright…” he mumbles into the rim of his glass. The whiskey burns his throat going down. It doesn’t match the flame rising in his chest at the sight of his precious girl talking to some douchebag dressed like Elvis Presley.

He wouldn’t say it if he didn’t think you weren’t a hundred percent fine. These bozos aren’t trying anything with you — hell, they can barely make conversation with you. You’re just entertaining it because you’re the sweetest thing on the earth.

It’s laughable more than anything.

He’s humored by it all. Not jealous. Definitely not jealous.

“Yeah, who’s the famous one here, again?” Jeff’s girlfriend jokes. She’d left to go to the bathroom with you but came back alone when you got stuck with dollar-store Elvis. She points to the rest of them with a long, manicured finger. “It’s you guys, right? Because I can’t really tell.”

“Fuck off…” Eddie grouses, forcing a grin while the rest of them laugh.

You return then, with a drink in hand and a frown on your face at the sight of your suddenly grumpy boyfriend. “You okay?” you wonder quietly, smoothing down your skirt when you slide into the booth.

The boy moves over to make room for you. “‘M fine,” he answers with a mumble that makes you assume otherwise. 

You reach a hand to his face, smoothing fluffy curls behind his ear. His cheek is warm against your palm. His faded seafoam Frankenstein paint job smears on your wrist.

“‘M sorry for taking so long. Some guy stopped me on the way over. I didn’t wanna be rude.”

Eddie shakes his head. Not a single part of him blamed you.

“It’s okay, babe. Not your fault.” 

He’s full-on beaming now. Just because you called that asshole “some guy.” It feels good to hear you say that, to know that that’s all he is to you — just some fuckin’ guy. You won’t remember him later, if you still do even now.

Honestly, you’ll be lucky to remember your own name at the end of tonight.

“He get that drink for you?” Eddie asks, nodding to the frosted glass in your fist.

You shrug. “Yeah. He bought it, but I watched the bartender make it, so it’s fine.”

He nods, proud and sparkling with it. “Good.”

“What is it?” Gareth wonders, squinting across the table.

“An Old-Fashioned.”

“You hate whiskey,” Eddie laughs, licking the alcohol from the plush of his bottom lip.

“Well, yeah, but he asked what I liked, and I didn’t know what to say, so I just told him your favorite drink,” you ramble, all mousy, as you drag the falling sleeve of your corset back up your shoulder. 

Your cheeks heat with embarrassment, still a bit overwhelmed by the attention.

Eddie’s grinning something fierce beside you. His chest swells with so much pride he thinks he might burst.

“Aren’t you just the sweetest fuckin’ thing?” he singsongs with a rosy grin, wrapping the ripped sleeve of his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer. 

Then he kisses you. Like, really kisses you. 

It’s deep and intimate and sloppy. He opens your mouth with his and slithers his tongue inside. He tastes like bitter-sweet alcohol. You get drunk on him accordingly. 

The rest of the table gags.

Your lips click audibly when Eddie pulls away. His smile glistens with a mixture of your saliva, lips a deeper shade of pink and slightly swollen. You wipe your chin with the back of your mouth — some of Eddie’s face paint comes with it.

“Where’s he now?” the boy asks with a mischievous squint in his deep chocolate eyes.

You shrug, totally uncaring and just wanting to be kissed. “I dunno.”

“Still at the bar,” Gareth answers for you, snickering to himself. “Giving your girl the sex eyes.”

Your face screws up in disgust. “Sex eyes?” you repeat, nose scrunched.

The group laughs.

“Think you can get him to buy you a round? You know, for the table?” Eddie asks you. His fingers trace shapes on your bare shoulder. You have to fight back a shiver.

“You want me to go talk to him?” you gape, like you must’ve heard him wrong.

“I want you to go get us drinks, sweet thing. Work your magic, you know?”

He’s not in the most right headspace right now. You know this. He’s still high on the post-show adrenaline and mellow on the alcohol.  He’s jealous and in love with you and aflame with hatred for bootleg Elvis Presley. He gets rash when he’s raging, risky and unpredictable — a deadly concoction.

“Eds…” you hum quietly, brows scrunched like the idea pains you. “I don’t wanna make you mad…”

“You won’t make me mad, sweet thing,” Eddie assures, squeezing your shoulder. He presses a sanguine peck to your waiting mouth, then his voice gets all low. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll reward you after.”

He smacks one last kiss to your buzzing lips.

You blink at him until your senses return to you. You slide out from the booth and saunter back to Some Guy, who’s seemingly been waiting on your return this whole time. 

There’s a sudden sway to your hips now, but it’s not for him. 

It’s for Eddie.

The boy with the wild hair back at the booth, missing splotches of his face paint and wearing your lipstick knows this too.

[klausysworld]

I don’t know why but I really want something with Klaus breaking reads heart.

Maybe…. Reader and Cami have been kidnapped and Klaus has to choose who to save. He chooses Cami but before reader can be killed Elijah saves her.

Left for dead

Living with the originals was hard enough. Between the betrayals and the wars just within the family was overwhelming let alone outsiders going out of their way to destroy each of them.

Being with Klaus was already difficult, between his mood swings and temper tantrum’s he wasn't an easy person to love and yet I did.

Even when I realised he was in love with someone else, even whilst knowing he was kissing someone else, I didn't leave him. I loved him with everything in me whether it was killing me or not.

I had offered my life for his, I took life for his and I ruined my own life for his. With Klaus came his family and I did everything I could to welcome them as my own. Even after I found out that his sister knew that he was seeing someone else.

Hope was treated the way I would treat my own daughter and I loved more than anyone else to walk the planet. Maybe that was why I stayed, for Hope. Or maybe that’s what I tell myself because how could I have been pathetic enough to stay for a an who only saw me as a warm body.

For some reason I had it in my head that perhaps he loved both me and Camille. Maybe he thought I wouldn't accept it and so he kept it a secret but surely after everything he should know that I would never try to change him or invalidate his feelings. It was stupid to be okay with him seeing Cami behind my back, I was blinded by something I had created in my mind.

I would smile when Cami was near and I tried to talk to Klaus but he labelled me paranoid and brushed it off. So I thought maybe he regretted it and he didn't want me to know because he wanted to stop. Maybe he did still love me.

This was the ultimate test really.

Both myself and Camille were beaten until black, blue and bloody. A loop of our cries and screams echoed through my mind and bounced against the walls of whatever dungeon we were seemingly chained within. I had no way of knowing how long we had been there but my body and soul felt such a sense of relief when Klaus's voice rang through the building. That feeling only lasted a few seconds before our captures taunting replayed in my head:

"Klaus will choose between you both, he will decide who lives or dies. He may think that he can have it all, have you both but I won't let him well. Whichever one he chooses, the guilt from the other will eat away at him, he won't be able to stay with the other. You will all end up broken and alone." he had whispered cruelly.

Her heart pounded in her throat as she watched Klaus approach them both, his hands coated in red as he forced the bars that separated us apart and went to step through only to let out a gasp and drop to his knees. The with who had tortured us for however long appeared from thin air in front of Klaus and I automatically pulled my legs to my chest to hide in the corner.

"Only one of them leaves" he stated, a grin on his face. "I don't care which but you will choose one or they both die and the next to go missing will be your daughter"

At his words Klaus let out a vicious snarl and attempted to lurch forward at the man but a sharp pain forced its way to his head and caused a loud yell of pain to burst from within him.

I could feel my eyes burning with another flow of tears just watching his pain, knowing what he felt. I could see Cami staring straight at me. Over our time in here together she had often brought up Klaus's ultimatum, I told her that I knew that they loved each other. I told her that he would choose her. She was certain that I was wrong and that Klaus didn't love her but just used her as a release. But I knew what Klaus looked like when he was in love. Even so part of me hoped she was right, it was a dark thought, a horrible hope that I wish I didn't have but I really wanted it to be true.

I looked back to Camille, a tight lipped smile that was probably more of a grimace formed on my lips as I mouthed the words 'it'll be okay' to her and her head shook as tears slipped down her cheeks.

Cami was sweet, she was lovely and I loathed it. She wanted to die instead of me, she said I deserved to live more than she did. That I was Hope's second mother I was apart of the Mikaelsons. She apologised for ever being with Klaus and it just made me feel worse. I thought that maybe they were lies, maybe she secretly hoped that Klaus would choose her and I would be left to die.

I couldn't tell and it didn't really matter anymore. Not when I realised that Klaus was right in front of me. I felt a small spark of hope as his arms wrapped around me and he pulled my close to his chest. A soft sniffle left him and his lips pressed to the side and top of my head

"I'm so sorry" his voice whispered with a crack and I went to tell him it was okay before I felt him pulling away and I realised what he was apologising for "forgive me" he uttered as he made his way to Cami.

My eyes stayed blurry with tears but they didn't fall as a complete feeling of numbness spread throughout me completely. I could hear my captures sickening laugh spin around me and I could hear Camille asking Klaus what he was doing.

"Klaus- go back to her" she whispered but he shook his head

"I love you" he admitted and a bitter laugh left my lips. I covered my mouth with my hands and pressed my forehead against my knees. I shouldn’t have been surprised and I shouldn’t have been so upset. I knew he loved her, I knew he would choose but for some reason it hurt so much more when he actually confirmed it.

I could hear Camille apologising to me as Klaus lifted her up, carrying her to a safety I thought I would never again know.

As soon as they left hands were on me, grabbing and dragging me by my hair to force me to crawl wherever he wanted me. Uncontrollable pain shot through me continuously and I had no time to comprehend the sobs that shook my body. I felt my back arch painfully, almost breaking but not quite, my head was forced back so my neck was bared and a sharp knife went to the edge of my neck.

"it's unfortunate really..." the voice uttered before the blade began to sink into my throat. My eyes closed and I welcomed the quick death but the pressure stopped and a thud sounded from before me.

Fingers pressed to the place the knife had began to cut, a familiar scent engulfed me and an arm circled my waist.

"You're alright darling" the voice whispered, pulling me into an embrace making me grab onto the back of his suit silently. "He's gone now Y/n. You're safe." he murmured softly, rubbing my back before i felt him pull back a little bit. My eyes slowly cracked open to see his face, his deep dark eyes boring into mine with a knowing look of pity. Silently I watched as an array of reds and purples scattered under his chocolate brown eyes and his pearly fangs dipped into the tough skin of his wrist. The fresh wound was lifted to my lips and I accepted the metallic taste with a sigh. I drank for much longer than I needed, I expected he would pull be off but his hand only pet the back of my head gently

"Good girl" he whispered "just heal". His touch made my heart hurt and I didn't bother trying to stop the tears from falling anymore. My hands clutched onto his jacket desperately and I gulped his blood down as though it was water.

Soft touches were given to the skin of my face before his silk handkerchief cleaned at the dirt and dried blood that had dripped down my neck. Reluctantly I pulled away from his wrist and licked my lips clean. He wiped his own wrist and tucked the material away into his pocket. Elijah proceeded to pull the jacket off of his body and instead wrapped it around my shoulders. The inside was warm and smelt of home.

My eyes felt heavy with exhaustion and I gave him a tired smile making him frown.

"I'll bring you home now okay?" he whispered but I shook my head

"I can't go back" I muttered "I won't stay with him anymore. I should have left ages ago" I admitted and his eyes grew glossier.

"Where should I take you?" He asked gently and I shrugged

"Airport? Train station? I don't care just don't tell anyone you saved me? Please?" I begged softly and he nodded.

"I'll give you whatever you need" he promised "anything"

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

Lonely

Paring: Innocent!reader x dads!friend!Nat

Summery: You looked lonely Natasha could fix that

Warnings: SMUT, pervy Nat, innocent reader, (legal) age gap, masturbation, intersex nat, oral, fingering, p in v, slight degradation, pet names, anal play, manhandling, fluff at the end, implied aftercare,

Word count: 1.8k

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional!

AN: @xxforeverinadayxx it’s a bit late but I hope you like it

Masterlist

ꕀꕀ ─── ⋆⋅ ✨🌞✨ ⋅⋆─── ꕀꕀ

Natasha knew very well how morally wrong her behavior was but how could she help herself when you were this cute. She was aware of the fact that Steve had an adult daughter but until this burning summer in Italy she had yet to meet you. But time came and Natasha found herself living with the most beautiful girl alive. Natasha had tried to spend as much time as she could with you, trying to find out everything about you. She’d take you on cycling trips and read to you your favorite novel while laying in the grass. You had been enchanted by Natashas presence. She was kind and yet smart. She happened to like the same authors as you and treated you like an adult, and not like your father who always shielded you. You didn’t want to accept it but you quickly had a crush on the older woman. In your eyes she was just perfect.

Who could’ve known that all of that was just a facade Natasha had put on to hide her true perverted fantasies. She had wanted you from the moment you first stepped down the stairs only wearing a light summer dress who looked so beautiful on you. She couldn’t flirt with you like she would with any other girl. No. Natasha had to be smart about it. She couldn’t risk Steve picking up on her true intentions with you. Natasha also of course didn’t want to do anything to you that you didn’t want. She might have been a pervert but she wouldn’t step over that boundary. Natasha knew exactly what she was searching for when she forged through your drawer. Her long fingers delicately caressing over the light pink cotton fabric of your panties. Her breathing was heavy as she quickly stuffs the the piece of fabric into the back pocket of her suit pants.

She’d do it like she did many times before on her summer vacation at your fathers mansion. Natasha would take the piece of clothing to her room and deep in the night when everyone else would be asleep her hands would find their way into her boxers. Moving her hand up and down her shaft as she whimpers your name quietly wishing it would be your smaller hands instead. She would grunt and moan muffled by her pillowcase. She’d cum into your panties cleaning her seed from the deep red tip of her cock. The next day while you would be in the garden she would put it back neatly folded hoping you would notice the difference which was a false hope. You weren’t aware why your “fresh” underwear had crusty but you chose to ignore it.

She quickly fled the room through the connected bathroom as she quickly hides the panty in one of the drawers of her nightstand. She moved on her turning to her bed as she grabs some book and pretended to read as she hears your light knocking on her door. “Come in Bambi” you could her her mumble as you pushed the heavy wooden door open. Her nicknames never failing to make you want to melt. Your feet make their way across the floor before you take a seat on the side of Natashas bed. “What brings you here” her voice was husky coming out almost as a whisper. You had your eyes located on your lap as you could hear Natasha move behind you. “I felt lonely” You could hear her chuckle in response as she moves beside you. “Is Steve home” You shook your head “He said that he won’t be home till late at night today”

Natashas smirk was devilish as she knew now was the time she could finally shoot her shoot. “And he left you all alone with me?” You didn’t answer her. The question was more rhetorical than anything. “Tell me pretty girl” her hands moved to your chin making you meet her lustful gaze “Do you feel something 'down there' when I touch you” Your cheeks turned a light shade of red. You were too embarrassed to say it but she was right. You slowly nod and making Natasha the happiest woman alive. “What do you do then” “W-Well I-” Natasha cut you off “No Олененок I want you to show me. Show me what you do to make those feelings go away” Your movements were shaky as you laid your fragile body on her kingsized bed. Your hands had found their way towards the waistband of your shorts as you slowly dragged them down your feminine legs. You had revealed your undergarments, a white pair with flowers on them. Natasha smirked as she saw the pair. She was familiar with it once having right her under her hips as she wished she had you instead. However her time had come, she had finally had you all to herself. You disposed of your panty too as you left your dripping cunt on full display for Natasha who was sitting between your spread ankles. Her breathing got more rapid as she could feel herself het harder and harder. Your hands had found their way towards your clit rubbing the bundle of nerves in tight circles as you kept releasing moan after. Natasha looked at you with a pitiful expression it was clear that you didn’t really knew what you were doing. The older woman highly doubt that you’ve ever managed to made yourself cum judging by your inexperienced movements.

“Let me help you pretty girl” Natasha was fast to strip from her shirt throwing it somewhere behind herself as she moved between your legs. Your legs were thrown over her shoulder as she took a long lick from the bottom of your cunt right up to your clit. Your hands carefully grabbed Natashas hair not wanting to hurt her. Natasha kitten licking between your folds, the taste making her hum deeply. The vibrations making you release soft moans. You tried to buckle your hips making the release seem closer. Natasha responded in slamming her forearm down on your hips grounding your hips. You whimpered and Natasha just laughed “Have you ever tried to you know use your little fingers Зайка” she mumbled against your puffy cunt. Forming words seemed incredibly difficult even through Natasha hadn’t really done anything “N-Never” you managed to get out. Natasha gave you a fake look of pity between your legs “Let’s pop that cherry shall we?” It was again a rhetorical question, how could you ever say no to Natasha. “Will it hurt” I whimpered looking at Natasha through hooded eyes. “Зайка, I’m not gonna lie it will hurt a bit but you will feel so good” She rubbed my thighs trying comfort me into believing her and I did.

“Do it… but be gentle… please” the last part came out mote desperate than you had intended to. “I’ll try Зайка” she whispered against the soft flesh of My stomach kissing her way down again. She carefully inserted one of her long fingers making me groan in pain as she ripped my hymen even drawing a few drops of blood on the white sheets. Natasha groaned as she saw and felt it. She knew it was wrong being obsessed with taking her friends daughters virginity but she couldn’t help herself. “Fuck baby you’re so tight” he breathed out as she can feel your walls clenching around her finger as she pushed it in and out. The pain of her fingers soon turned into pure pleasure as you moaned like a whore in a brothel. She added a second finger on which you clench down even harder sucking her in. “Fuck you’re even tighter then you thought you little slut.” Her movements got faster and rougher having me moan louder as you climax all over Natashas fingers and hand. You eyes are glued shut as you try to calm yourself.

You can feel Natashas strong hands on your hips turning you onto your stomach. Your face is pressed into the pillows as she pushes your hips up your knees touching the soft fabric of the sheets. You can hear the sipper of her pants followed by the sounds of her undressing. Natasha was painfully hard, her large member standing proud as she places herself behind you. Her tip pressed against your clit as you whimpered for her. “Are you ready for the real deal Зайка” She didn’t give you much time to respond as she pushed inside your hole making you scream out only for it to be muffled by the pillow case. She bottomed you out giving you some time to adjust to her girth. She whispered sweet nothings against you back until you gave her the go to go further.

Her pace started out slow not wanting to make you uncomfortable as the wet sound of skin clapping against each other filled the room mixed with both your groans and moans. Natasha pace was steady as the moans you released got louder and louder. Natashas hands gripped the flesh of you ass kneeling it before she got an idea. She spread your cheeks giving her the perfect look at your muscle ring. She spit on it only making you consciously of her actions. “Natty what are yo-” you got interrupted by your own scream as Natashas finger pushed past the ring the spit and your cum making a perfect lube. You clammed down hard in Natashas shaft as you were unexpectedly an anal whore. Your moans turned into screams the mixture of both penetrations making you climax in recored time. “Fuck you dirty slut you can deem yourself lucky I haven’t made you my breeding bitch yet” she mumbled pulling out of both holes before roughly throwing you to your back again. After a few more pumps with her large hands she came all of your stomach before laying down next to you.

She didn’t need long to recover from her high as she pushed some sweaty strands of hair behind your ear smiling like she didn’t just turn you into her whore. “Are you still lonely” you shook your head being too tired to even speak. She finally kissed your lips before picking you up bridal style and caring you into your shared bathroom. “Let’s get you cleaned up in a nice and warm bath shall we baby” she was just the woman for you.

:)

[jaehunnyy]

time's the charm | cs

Genre: 'hate everyone but you' trope, angst, fluff

Word count: 2.3k

Pairing: quiet-boy!San x fem!reader

Warnings: San has a sad past (nothing triggering mentioned tho), mentions of running from home, sadness, toxic men, crying, some harsh words, misunderstandings, happy ending tho!!, possible grammar mistakes

Taglist: @shakalakaboomboo, @pocketjoong-reads, @nebulousbrainsoup, @justhere4kpop, @bluisheye93, @i-luvsang, @ad0rechuu, @starillusion13

You had no idea when the quiet, ebony haired guy’s eyes started to form red hearts whenever they landed on you. You had no idea when he gathered the courage to look away from his phone, just so he could get a glimpse of your outfit that day, or your hair, anything when it came to you. You also had no idea that Choi San was capable of having feelings, and neither did he. That was the first time San pleasantly surprised someone.

There wasn’t much he knew about you. Aside from your not-so-good reputation around the campus, he also found out that you held the power to make his heart jolt in happiness, or whatever that feeling was supposed to be. The lingering feeling of warmth whenever he saw you was burning his skin, along with the electric arrows piercing through his spine—and he hated it. He hated that he couldn’t hate you, just like he did with everyone else around him. But he knew he brought it upon himself, and maybe this one time, he was willing to try and risk some things.

You, on the other hand, knew what the people around you wanted you to know about him. San didn’t talk to anyone except one person (the only person he called a friend, just because they were roommates), which is why you just let the guys in your class spill whatever harsh things they dreamt up whenever his headphones were covering his ears; except he wasn’t always listening to music, but also to the things they were saying about him—because what’s so great in lying is the not knowing.

Little did they know that instead of making you stay away from him, it intrigued you. You wanted to see behind the fluffy halo of black surrounding his head—you wanted to know the story of the blue streak that blended in between his black hairs, what music resonated through his ears every break, or what shop he preferred whenever he went shopping. Something told you there was something special about the guy. He was different from all the other ones you messed with, and as much as you didn’t want to hurt him, you were selfish enough to want him for yourself.

Love did its wonders in the last few weeks, cause San didn’t know what had gotten into him when he grabbed the smallest piece of paper he eyed and a pen, writing a short note and putting it into your locker. It was like Cupid was controlling him or whatever, and as much as his nose scrunched at the thought of those lovey-dovey things, his heart swelled with pride. He just wanted to be looked at from a different point of view, he thought that maybe, you would look at him differently.

“San? Did you just put something into y/n’s locker?” his only friend, Yeosang, asked him with a frown on his face.

San looked at him with puppy-like eyes, as he was caught red-handed.

“San… what did I tell you when you transferred here?”

The black haired guy looked at the older boy, whispering in a tiny voice: “To stay away from her.”

“Well, it definitely doesn’t seem like you are too great at it.” His friend snapped, dragging him along the hallway.

“Yeosang, she makes me feel things no one else has, I don't even know how to describe it.”

“She will make you feel some unique things when she will break your heart too.” The blonde haired guy said and left, not in the mood to argue with his friend.

San felt small again. He hated everyone for the way they treated him—for seeing him as nothing less than a fragile thing who could break in any second. When he ran away at the age of fourteen, everything changed inside the once bubbly guy. He became quiet, indifferent even, or that was just the wall he built around him from broken memories and dirty past; cause deep down, he just wanted to be loved, despite hate being the only thing he knew how to offer.

You truly wanted to get closer to him. You admired how his head bobbed to the beat of the music he was listening to, or how his lips would form a pout when he got out of words when writing a note—the same love notes that continued to grow into a pile on your desk, bringing a lopsided smile on your face whenever you thought about the dimpled guy who sent them. You saw him sticking one of them a few days ago, yet you had too much fun seeing him like this—as the cold boy who had a soft spot for you; so you acted a fool.

You weren’t as bad as everyone claimed you were; you were just giving nasty men a taste of their own poison. Call yourself a femme fatale or whatever, but you just enjoyed seeing them crawl for forgiveness after what they did; yet your little act of service brought you a title as dirty as your actions, so you could just bear it in exchange for some healed hearts. You grew tired of the brokenhearted girls around the campus, so you just made their exes approach you enough so you could break their heart; you would call it playing the hero; except it wasn’t seen the same by the ones who sided with the villains of the story.

The more time passed, the more you were getting infatuated with the quiet boy, as much as he was getting addicted to your intoxicating presence. You could say you two fell in love with the help of the innocent notes, hiding behind the sweet nothings plastered on the pieces of paper; and this little word game of yours gave San enough confidence, the moment he decided he was ready to ask you on a messy date. That was the second time he pleasantly surprised someone with his efforts.

You might be curious about who I am. Meet me today at 7pm in the park? ♡

You would have said yes, if only someone didn’t have a trump card. The moment San turned his back away from the lockers, the boy who had other plans for you took the note and stamped on it, before throwing it into the closest trash bin he found. He couldn’t let this date happen, and it sadly didn’t—which is why you weren’t aware of the guy waiting for you in the cold, tears threatening to stain his cheeks with the salty taste of loss. Was that all he was destined to? Pain? Where did he go wrong this time?

He waited and waited, and when the clock hit 9pm, he realized he should have probably listened to his friend. He was way out of your league—and still, your responses to his texts (though he supposed you didn’t know it was him), and the subtle smiles you threw in his direction, he thought that maybe, just maybe, in his world full of darkness and bad luck, you would be his lucky charm. He let out a bitter laugh the moment he felt the familiar wetness on his cheek, making him remember that instead of hating everyone but you, he should have stuck to hating everyone, including you. That was the moment he swore he would never waste his feelings on anyone, deciding that he was made to wallow in self-pity forever.

And as expected due to the circumstances, the notes stopped—and you were sad; that sad that you distanced yourself from your heartthrob activities, just to focus on the boy you grew to adore. But things changed—San changed. He didn’t look at you anymore, his once fond look turning into painful daggers whenever your eyes laid on him. His dimples were hidden deeply in his soft cheeks, making you wonder what happened. If it was your fault, if it was a false hope you had, if he was like the other ones. While you two were hurting each other with the lack of affection, the tragedy was happening under the eyes of the person who screwed it all.

You endured, and endured, until one day, you couldn’t endure anymore. When you finished your lectures, you followed San, stopping him at the nearest wall of the school and looking into his eyes.

“Why did you stop sending me notes? I liked them, San.” You whispered, looking for any sign of emotion on his face.

To say he was surprised that you knew it was him was an understatement—though it didn’t matter anymore. You were probably just trying to fool him again.

“I never sent you any notes. You must be mistaking me for someone else.” He said coldly, not even looking into your eyes. He was lying.

“I saw you sticking them to my locker, San. Please, tell me.”

He let out a scoff, followed by a mocking laughter.

“Why do you even care now? Are you going to tell the whole college now? That I am such a pathetic guy?”

“San, please!”

He looked at your pleading eyes, debating if he should give you an explanation or not. You didn’t deserve it, but his feelings made a step forward.

“Why would I try to hit on someone who would only laugh at me? You broke my heart—gave me hope, and then stamped on all my efforts to ask you out the moment you made me wait for you for two hours. And this isn’t even the biggest problem,” he paused, his sharp eyes laying on your confused face: “The problem is I can't even hate you for it. Because I know you deserve better; yet I still had some hope.”

Your eyes widened. What was this man talking about? While you were engulfed in your thoughts, he was ready to leave, but you were quick to grab his wrist, making him turn back to you, an annoyed expression on his face.

“San, let me talk.”

“About? I already know you don’t do relationships or anything, kind of learned it the hard way.” He said sarcastically, yet you knew he was as hurt as you were.

“If you truly like me, give me a chance to speak,” you begged, and you saw his stiff expression relaxing just a bit, a small nod of his head encouraging you to continue: “I don’t understand. What did you expect from me? You never asked me out!”

San frowned, knuckles so tense from the way he was clenching his fists.

“I literally did a week ago?”

You don’t recall receiving a note a week ago. You thought hard, but the last time you got a note from him, he asked you to expect something later. So, what if someone was sabotaging you, stealing the chance you had away?

“San, I didn't find any notes a week ago. I can show you all the notes I have if you want, I… kinda collect them.” You said, a small blush on your cheek—only that he wasn’t buying it this time.

And that’s when it hit you.

“San, wait—what if I never got the note? What if someone didn’t want us to happen?”

“Stop finding excuses to play with me.”

“San, I'm not, list—”

You were interrupted by a shuffling sound behind you, and that's when the culprit who was eavesdropping all this time appeared, a halo of fair hair surrounding his head as he looked down, drenched in guilt.

“It was me. I didn't want you to happen, because I was scared you would hurt my friend.” Yeosang whispered, head hung down in shame.

He never felt that small in front of San; it was always the other way around. But now, he felt like he did the wrongest thing ever, and he didn’t think he had any right to look his friend—or you, in the eyes.

“Yeosang…? Why would you even? You—you knew I was so into her, so… why…?”

“I know she hurts everyone she gets with. I wanted to prevent you from heartbreak.”

“I don't hurt anyone who doesn't deserve it. I just get revenge for my friends’ broken hearts by messing with their exes’ minds, and this might make me look like some sort of fuckgirl and whatnot, but this time, I fell in love. For real.”

San looked at you in awe, the light in his beautiful eyes shining again.

“Did you really?” he stuttered,

“I… I think I did, yeah.”

San wondered if it was too late to ask you out, again. And, as the invisible red thread of fate tied you to one another, you kinda read his thoughts.

“If you still want to, I would love to go out with you, Sannie.”

Sannie. The first nickname that got his heart running laps, along with the butterflies dancing a sweet dance of victory inside of him.

Yeosang’s eyes filled with hope, and he looked up at his friend, who gave him a small smile and patted his shoulder.

“Thank you for caring, Yeosang. But I am on my own now.” He said, before grabbing your hand and leaving with you.

This was San—the quiet guy who was pretending to hate everyone while waiting for the person who would look behind his intentions, who would see how much he craved to be loved and understood. He improved so much, and that was the third time San had pleasantly surprised someone—but this time, it would definitely not be the last.

After everything he had been through, he felt like the sun had finally risen on his street, the moment he first woke up with you in his arms. This was only the start of his journey to happiness, and he hoped it would last more than the suffering he went through in his twenty years of life.

Time’s the charm, and despite the hardships you two faced, he wouldn’t want it any other way. He felt invincible when he held your hand, happiness written all over his face, and he was sure that he wasn’t meant to cycle this beautiful trip alone, but with the love of his life by his side.

[ijuststareatstuffhereok89]

Hi

Can I request a Loki× asgardian!reader where she thinks he died on svartalfheim and is grieving but then he reveals himself and it gets a little spicy?

Hello! Thanks for the request. I hope it satisfies!

"Return of the King"

Pairing: Prince!Loki x Asgardian!Reader

Content Warning (18+): mourning/death, smut-adjacency (some breeding kink, grinding, and finger-licking)

Word Count: 1.4k

The flood of candle glow nearly blinded you, now that there were no more tears left to protect them from the extreme light. Crying for days really did dry one’s eyes out. You’d always thought it was a metaphor, but now you knew the miserable truth. 

It was the final night of your seclusion, a tradition for new widows in Asgard. Once one’s spouse departed this existence, the surviving lover was confined to a shrine deep within the bowels of the palace (or within a public temple, for commoners), where they meditated for forty days, subsided on basic fare, and had no connection with the outside world. Upon emerging, a new widow was expected to be available for remarriage. Asgardians considered forty short, worthless days sufficient mourning time! What a joke! 

The events of his last days were a blur to you. He returned in chains from Midgard, stood before Odin with very little contrition, and you’d wept at his feet. Even as he languished in the prison cell under Odin’s sentence, you visited, his one true comfort. Then, the Dark Elves had attacked. You’d insisted upon following him and his older brother Thor wherever they were planning on going to defeat Malekith, but Loki had left you behind, swearing that your death on Svartalfheim would kill him in turn. 

Well, something on Svartalfheim certainly did in the end. 

Here you were, alone and in constant pain from the emptiness both within and beyond your heart. Rumor was that even the King himself seemed remorseful upon Thor’s return without his brother. The King, who had once said that Loki’s own head remained on his shoulders due only to the pleas of yourself and his mother. 

Loki’s portrait stood in the middle of the candlelit altar where you prayed, burned incense in his favorite pine scent, and wept dryly. Before everything began twisting and falling apart around you, Loki had been adamant upon conceiving a child with you upon his return…but these words were spoken long before Svartalfheim, even long before Midgard. He’d been preparing to follow Thor and the Warriors Four to Jotunheim at Thor’s insistence. Loki had promised you they’d all return after an uneventful meeting. 

Such was not to be, and you’d barely even seen your husband since. 

You missed everything: how soft he was with you compared to everyone else, how gentle his touch was when you made love in the large canopy bed in your shared chamber, even the simple way he fed you grapes and bread afterward, always saying “you need to keep your strength up, for it won’t be long before I’m needy again.” 

You found tears again as you realized your mourning period was only hours from ending, and you felt no more ready for remarriage than you’d been when Thor brought you the news. 

Oh no, you thought, will Thor ask for my hand? What Midgardians referred to as a 'levirate marriage’ was incredibly common among widows and widowers, especially younger ones like yourself. You cringes in the midst of your sobs. Thor was, to put it bluntly: not your type. 

He’ll probably be the one to fetch me from here, you added to your inner monologue. He may propose before we go upstairs…

You wanted Loki to gently feed you grapes. You wanted to bear his son. You wanted long, endless days of boredom lying in his arms and staring at the ceiling. If he came through the door and promised you that he was home to stay, you’d have no choice but to fall into his arms naked and hold on to him for dear life. If only! 

Resigning yourself as much as possible to the prospect of a levirate match with Thor, you sucked in your breath, your heart pounding painfully as you heard the door at the top of the staircase open. 

A deep voice you couldn’t place right away spoke the traditional words that ended your confinement: “The light will shine on you again this morning.” 

It had to be Thor. You bit your lips before reciting the well-known reply. “Then bring me out into the sun. I am ready and new again.”

However, as you rose from your knees and went to grab the brass snuffer on the wall (it would undoubtedly take several minutes to put out the traditional 500 candles you’d been burning the past forty nights), the caller dared to break from tradition. 

“Walk tall, for you are emerging from here a Queen.” 

Your skin went cold. Even as you weren’t sure the voice was his, it had to be Thor, and your suspicions about his intentions were legitimate. 

“Very well,” you said, holding back another sob. 

“Dearest!” called the voice as the source reached the bottom of the stairs. Was it possible for your skin to grow even colder? Only one creature ever dared to call you ‘dearest.”

“No…my ears deceive me, I’ve been in here too long…” you said in short, gaspy breaths, daring to turn around. 

In kingly furs draped nobly over his shoulders, Loki stood tall and alive, bearing a tray of bread and grapes. Your jaw fell open. 

“But…how?” you managed to get out. 

“Trickery…luck…and a beautiful, loyal wife awaiting my homecoming…” he answered. 

“You made me think you were dead!” you answered a little more angrily than you thought you’d sound. “And a Queen? I don’t understand.”

“Thor is elsewhere in the cosmos, thinking Odin is still around.”

“Then the King is dead?”

Loki smiled and shook his head. “Regicide isn’t an oil I would willingly wash my hands with. It’s too messy. Odin is…on sabbatical. I have the throne, as do you, dearest.” 

He held out the tray. “I thought you’d need sustenance if we are to pick up from where we--”

You forced an “oof!” from him as you ran full-force into his arms. The tray went crashing to the ground, scattering food everywhere as you pinned him against the wall, grabbing his hands and slipping one under your corset, the other you brought up to your mouth, kissing the digits before beginning to roll your tongue over them. 

Loki moaned in pleasure. His fingers tasted the same as those hot nights early in your marriage, where you’d spend hours nursing them as Loki rode you late into the night. The flashback, combined with the very real sensations of his digits in your mouth, flooded your cunt and thighs with instant arousal. 

“You really…missed…me…” Loki said between groans. 

“I need your baby…” you mumbled. “Loki…please…now…right…here…”

Loki took his hand from your mouth to lift your chin upward, forcing your eyes to meet his. “My little Queen wants my heir, does she? It isn’t often a mourning lady emerges from  seclusion with more people in tow than when she descended.”

“Never part from me again!” you pleaded, refusing to release Loki from the wall. “Just use me until I’m full of you, Loki! Your body is the only temple I need to pray at.” 

Loki purred like a cougar in heat as he nuzzled the base of your neck affectionately with his nose, taking a moment to flick at the skin there with his brilliant tongue. You couldn’t keep your hands off of him, nor could you possibly pull his body any closer. Loki hooked a hand under your buttock before running it down your thigh, lifting it up and pulling it over his hip, coaxing you to straddle him while standing, your groin firmly pressed against his hardening cock. 

“Maybe we should adjourn upstairs to impregnate you, dearest,” he whispered softly in your ear. “This room has dark, somber energy, and I want to hear you scream with ecstasy while your King indulges you.”

“I’m not sure if my legs can carry me. They want to stay wrapped around you…” you answered. 

Loki chuckled. “Then allow me to assist you!” 

He swept you up into his arms in one graceful move, causing you to give a joyous yelp as he spun you around. You wanted to cry with happiness, it was such a foreign sensation! 

He was red-faced and beaming, as thankful to have you in his arms as you were to have him there. “And as we make our way towards our chamber, allow me to share with you this idea I had for a play…”

Please visit my MASTERLIST for more!

Random tags: @acidcasualties @queen-paladin @lokischambermaid

@lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @mochie85 @fictive-sl0th @loopsisloops @foxherder @simplyholl @joyful-enchantress @fandxmslxt69 @glitchquake @gruftiela

[redrobinhoodrat]

Damian

“Damian, don’t you want to see your surprise? I think you’ll love it.” He grinned maliciously as he gestured for someone to step forward.

Damian’s breath was caught as one of the ninjas from grandfather’s guard stepped forward and crouched into a fighting stance. Everything about them was entirely too familiar. Grandfather was saying something but the ringing in his ears was making it hard to understand.

“— happened? We found him and now he’s back home. Don’t you want to come back and see him Damian?” Grandfather had walked up to the figure as he was talking. Reaching a hand up, he pulled the half mask down to reveal their face. “He’s excited to see you.”

His chest was aching now as he listened to his family behind him taking in the scene. Even as he shifted into his own battle stance it felt like his face and hands had been dipped in static. He was sure he wasn’t getting oxygen adequately but still he couldn’t take his eyes off what could have been a mirror image of himself if he’d never left the league. From the hair and the outfit, to the burning green eyes glaring back. He knew however, he wasn’t looking at a clone. He was looking at his worst nightmare, something that the pits had brought to life.

He felt a hand drop down on his shoulder and he flinched. A quick glance at the blue stripes give the culprit up as Richard but the familiar comfort he usually got from his adopted brother never came. He clenched his jaw to steady himself. There was no way grandfather had done what he was thinking. This has to be a clone or something else being used to entice him back to the league.

“Grandfather, I fail to see what use another clone could be. I would think that after the first attempt of using clones failed you would try a different method.” He made sure to sound as bored as possible, knowing how his grandfather played with emotions. His grandfather seemed to be amused if anything, a cruel smirk settling across his face.

“I would not bring you a mere clone Damian. Is it the green eyes throwing you off? It’s merely a side effect of the pits as you well know.” Here he shot a pointed look towards Redhood before glancing back. “Don’t you recognize your own twin?”

The ringing was back.

“He simply needed a quick dip in the pits before he was willing to listen. Here lately the aggression has been quite handy.” Grandfather stepped back at the same time he let go of the figures shoulder. “Cosmas, why don’t you go ahead and show your brother what he’s missing out on?”

Damian’s eyes quickly snapped back to the boy as he started moving. Pulling out a blade that looked shockingly similar to his brother’s—his real, dead, twin brother’s—sword. With the way his eyes were glowing, Damian couldn’t tell any emotions coming from him. He quickly unsheathed his matching sword as he watched the figure—supposedly his brother— smirk.

Danny POV

Danny was shocked.

Surprised.

Absolutely flabbergasted.

Never had he imagined this scenario for himself, and he’s been through some pretty wild shit!

Okay, so to start out his eyes are glowing green due to being literally dunked in rancid ectoplasm like ten time. Which is just ew. He was also forced to change into an old league uniform, given his old sword, and then pretty much pushed out in front of the bats of Gotham within a day of him being taken.

…WAS GRANDFATHER CRAZY??

Obviously grandfather didn’t know about Phantom or he’d be in a lot deeper shit. To be completely honest, he just wanted to go along with this to see Damian again but now he’s supposed to fight the bats? That’s so not happening, Danny enjoyed his half-life. Sure it was overrun by beings trying to kill him but when was that any different than what it was in the league.

Obviously, grandfather just wanted him to die again—

“—recognize your own twin?” Danny’s ears twitched as he heard that, snapping his gaze to the figure squaring up across from him. That was Damian? He looked so…calm. The Damian that Danny was used to had an eternal stick up his ass that made his face look like he was scowling 24/7. Maybe the mask helped with that? Huh. Interesting.

“Cosmas” Ancients he hated that name. “Why don’t you go ahead and show your brother what he’s missing out on?” He felt grandfather taking a few steps back.

Danny internally scoffed as he went to take out his sword—HIS SWORD!!—that had recently been given to him.

‘Like I’ll ever help you out you senile fruitloop’ Danny smirked as he thought it ‘You just made yourself useless.’

[norizz-nation]

Ride it 🧡

Summary: Lando started to tone his abs a little bit more, which made you practically drool. So he kinda puts you in your place

Warnings: nsfw, daddy kink, blowjob, face fucking, spanking, pillow humping, spit kink, face slapping, light bdsm, choking, dacryphilia, 18+, age gap (reader is 19)

Lando and you were always the kind of couple who would fuck 7 times a week. There was no doubt to it. But nowadays it was more of a difficult game cuz Lando have been working out a lot, which made his abs even more toned. And u were loving it.

It was currently a lazy evening and u were on ur phone just scrolling. And lando was away from you, doing his work. He texted u saying that he will be back home in an hour but u didn’t check the message becuase u were too busy laying on ur bed with lights dim. Closing ur eyes and thinking abt lando. His hands all over ur body, his lips between ur thighs, his fingers spreading ur lips apart. Every single thought made u squirm more and more. With no other thought u started to touch urself. You pushed ur satin shorts down and dropped them to the floor and began to rub ur pussy in a slow pace. U closed ur eyes and imagined ur fingers as landos as u started to circle ur clit in a bit fast pace.

After circling ur pussy for a while u looked to ur side and grabbed lando’s pillow and sat on it. U could already feel ur heartbeat inside ur mouth. You threw ur head back as u kept on humping. The thought of landos thighs being the pillow made u wanna cum uncontrollably. You started to hump as fast as u can and grabbed the headboard for support. You were so close to cum. Your whole body starting to sweat. You were so caught up thtu didn’t even notice lando opening ur shared bedroom’s door. You kept on humping as u started to feel a knot inside ur stomach. You started to hump even more faster as u came on his pillow leaving white cum stains on the white pillow case.

You were abt to get down from ur high but u heard ur boyfriend from behind say “tht was good welcoming show, wasn’t it?” As he leaned on the doorframe looking at u with a smirk on his face. Although u guys were really comfortable with everything, still u were really embarrassed as ur face turned red. “Baby, how come u’re home early?” You rlly dont know why u asked him tht question.

“Just missed being with you” he said as he walked over u, standing on the edge of the bed. “But didn’t expect to get a show in front of me, didn’t i tell u to not touch urself when im away?” U were to dumbfounded to say anything so u just nodded. He came closer to u squeezing ur face to look at him. “What is it? Dont just nod ur head. Say words. Use tht pretty mouth baby” the way he was looking at u, u could tell tht tonight was gonna be long. U gulped before saying “yes daddy, u told me not to touch myself whn u’re away.” “And wht did u do?” His grip was getting tighter. U were just silent and he placed a tight slap on ur cheek which burned ur skin. “Wht tf takes u so long to answer huh? Are u trying to test my patience? Answer me. Wht did u do?”

U could feel tears forming and u said “i touched myself evn tho u told me not to” u couldn’t evn look at him. He thn cupped ur face and made u look at him and said “and u even humped on my pillow, ure not evn wearing any bra.” As he grabbed ur left tit and pinched ur nipple hard tht made u squeal. “Tell me wht were u thinking abt?”

U could feel ur whole body burn “i was imagining riding u.” Hearing tht he raised an eyebrow and smirked. “What else?” U barely managed to say “ur abs makes me wanna ride u for hours” he thn smirked again. “Well thn ride me.” Ur eyes widened. Not sure wht to say. Lando removed his t-shirt and jogger and layed comfortably with just his boxers. Tht sight made u wet instantly. The view in front of u was everything u wanted. “Remove tht top baby” u did as he said and dropped it on the floor.

U started to palm his dick but he grabbed ur wrist and said “use ur pretty mouth baby. without ur hands.” His words made ur jaw drop. He then spread ur mouth more with his fingers.

U were trying ur best to suck him without ur hands. But it was quite hard. And ur mouth was getting dry and u sorta chocked. Thn he grabbed ur face and said “open it more” and spitted inside ur mouth and now it was kinda easy for u. U started to bop ur head more faster as he grabbed ur hair and started face fucking u which made ur eyes teary. U were tugging ur nails on his thighs bec it was too much for u.

“Just breathe trough ur nose, ik u can take it baby. Be a good girl, okay?” He thn continued face fucking u. Just whn u felt his dick twitching he pulled u away from his dick. “Come on baby ride me. Fulfill ur fantasy.”

U slowly place urself on top of him and started touching his toned abs. Running ur fingers over thm. Practically drooling. U started slowly moving up and down his dick feeling so full. Tears rolling down ur cheeks. His one hand was choking u and the other one was on ur waist guiding u. “Thts it baby, dont stop okay?” U could just nod. “I feel so full daddy. Im g-gonna c-cum” he then spanked ur ass and said “oh yeah? Already? But we just started”

U we’re literally crying atp. “Please daddy let me cum, i cant hold it any longer.” He started guiding ur ass as he said “cum baby, cum all over my cock” u were literally seeing stars in front of u as u came all over his dick. “Who do u belong to huh?” He asked grabbing ur face placing a light slap. “You daddy, ofc u.”

“Thts a good girl, now get on ur knees.” U got on ur knees as he face fucked u. “Oh baby im gonna cum.” U were looking up at him with heart eyes as he came inside ur mouth and u swallowed all of them. “Such a good girl.” He said as he brushed his thumb on ur lips, as u smiled.

“I love u baby”

“I love u too daddy”

A/N: requests are open! feel free to ask what you want me to write! luv you ❤️

[venus-haze]

Pretty Tied Up (Otis Driftwood x Reader)

Summary: Or, the perils of working at Red Hot Pussy Liquors.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. This takes place between House of 1000 Corpses and The Devil’s Rejects. Based on the Guns N' Roses song. Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Armed robbery and implied kidnapping. Sexually explicit content that involves extremely dubious consent and sadism, gags, bondage, groping, and gunplay. Otis is pretty much his own warning. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

Having regulars at a liquor store was a double-edged sword. You got to know some customers well enough to like them, but over time you’d notice they looked increasingly worse for wear as they came up to the checkout with their usual purchases. The exception, of course, were the Fireflys, who you always found unsettling, despite Baby’s attempts to seem affable. 

“My brother likes you,” she said one day, leaning against the counter as you rang up three bottles of vodka and two six-packs of beer.

“RJ?” you asked, glancing at her brother standing a few feet behind her.

RJ was always nice enough. Didn’t say much. Tall. Burly. Strong. Ruggedly handsome. You’d be open to going out with him.

She laughed in her usual high-pitch that always toed the line of being spine-chilling. “No silly! I’m talkin’ ‘bout Otis.”

You stared at her blankly. “Who’s Otis?”

“You know, long hair, blue eyes, scruffy ol’ beard. He came in here the other night. You must’ve made one hell of an impression. He won’t shut up about ya.”

Oh yeah. Him. Bought a bottle of whiskey and a stack of hardcore BDSM porno magazines. ‘You ever look at this stuff?’ he’d asked, eyeing you as you put a magazine with a nude, distressed-looking woman suspended by intricate ropes on the cover into a brown paper bag. When you first started working there, you could hardly stomach the sight of the rougher fare. As time went on, you found yourself hesitantly intrigued. ‘Gotta have something to do besides go to church on Sundays,’ you replied, earning a wicked grin from him. 

“That’s nice,” you said.

She snickered. “My brother’s not nice.”

“Is this everything?” you asked, hoping to move the interaction along.

“Hey RJ, you gettin’ anything else?” Baby asked over her shoulder.

He shook his head, approaching to pick up the crate you put the bottles in.

Baby handed you a wad of cash. She almost always overpaid, letting you keep the change, which was most of the reason you humored her antics in the first place. “Thanks darlin’! See ya real soon!” she said, wiggling her eyebrows, keen to something you were yet to be aware of.

Two nights later you were working the store alone. Your coworker Billy didn’t even have the decency to call and let you know he wasn’t coming in–or quit. He just didn’t show up at 9:30 when he was supposed to, and your phone call to his house was met with a busy dial tone. Asshole.

It’d been a slow night anyway, but you would have appreciated the heads up, or at least another body in the place when the front door was kicked open.

“This is a robbery! Don’t fucking move or I’ll shoot!”

Despite the bandana covering the bottom half of his face, you knew who it was right away. Long, graying hair and piercing blue eyes that were burned into your memory from his last visit to the liquor store.

You lifted your hands in the air. Your manager had told you on your first day that there was always a possibility of this happening. Better to just let them take whatever cash and booze they wanted and report it to the police once they left. ‘Don’t go playin’ hero. We got insurance.’

“Keep those hands up,” Otis said, slowly approaching the counter. “I’m gonna walk back there, and you’re gonna open the register for me.”

You nodded, eyes glued to him as he slithered around the counter like a snake, gun steadily pointed at you. 

“Go on,” he said.

With a trembling hand, you opened the register, the cash-filled drawer popping open for him. He pressed the gun to your temple, instructing you to put the cash in one of the brown paper bags by your side. You tried not to glance at him too much while you stuffed the paper bag with the money, finally pushing it toward him and sticking your hands up again.

“Alright, now turn around.”

“Wh-What?”

“I ain’t got all night.”

You glanced at the door. No way you could make a run for it, but maybe someone would walk in and be able to do something.

He followed your gaze and let out a cruel scoff. “Ain’t nobody coming through that door who can save you. I’m the closest thing to salvation you’ll ever get. Now turn the fuck around.”

With a shaky breath, you did as you were told, freezing when you felt the barrel of the gun press against the back of your head. His free hand grabbed your ass through your jeans, his strong grip almost painful as he squeezed each cheek. “Wonder how much it’d take to make you bruise?” he mumbled, almost to himself. He squeezed again, harder this time, as if he were trying to dig his fingers into your flesh. “Too much work when I can just cut into ya.”

“Don’t hurt me,” you pleaded, though hearing your own voice, you weren’t quite sure how convinced you were that you didn’t want him to do his worst. Knowing what you did about the Firefly clan, the rumblings around Ruggsville about the strange family–it would be pretty damn bad.

“C’mon now, mama. You led me to believe you liked it rough,” he said, voice gravelly and low as he slipped his hand between your legs from behind, rubbing the rough denim material and your cotton panties against your pussy, the friction hitting your clit in just the right spot for you to let out a shameful moan. Your hand flew to your mouth, the other clenched in a fist as you tried not to give him the reaction he wanted. Didn’t want to prove him right. Show him how curious you were. You didn’t even have it in you to fight back, not when you were on the edge, so achingly close until suddenly you weren’t anymore.

You nearly whined when he pulled his hand away, horrified at yourself, your reaction to his groping you. He grabbed each of your arms, roughly pulling them behind your back and tying your wrists together with something itchy and uncomfortable that dug painfully into your skin as you fruitlessly tried to free yourself from the secure knot he made. What the fuck did he use? Your eyes widened at the carpet burn-like sensation that’d begun to sting your skin. The roll of twine beneath the register. You used to secure some customers’ more sensitive purchases sometimes. 

Fingers and cloth forced their way into your mouth until you were gagged with the bandana Otis had pulled off of his face. He turned you around, looking you over with a slow, satisfactory nod. “I was having trouble getting over this mental block in my art. Started drivin’ me crazy. Y’know, they showed this nature documentary about a group ‘a lions a while back. How they protect and provide for their families, stalk their prey and go in for the kill–do you ever think about how we’re the only species where killing is taboo? For the rest of the animal kingdom, it’s just nature, part of the circle of life. There was a scene where the lion saw a gazelle from way across the savannah, and it was like nothing else existed except for its prey. It couldn’t rest until it tore that damn thing apart. That’s how I felt when I saw you.”

You shook your head frantically, your pleas of mercy muffled by your gag. Fat tears blurred your vision until he morphed into something monstrous, straight out of a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from. 

“I ain’t gonna kill ya,” he said, roughly petting your head, “not yet anyway, that’d be a waste when I’ve barely even started.” He gave you a mean grin as he grabbed a hold of your hair by the roots. “I got a lot planned for you. Those magazines gave me a lot of ideas too.”

He lowered the gun, dragging it between your breasts and further down your abdomen until he reached the waistband of your jeans. Using his other hand, he unbuttoned and unzipped them with alarming ease, pulling them down until they fell to your ankles. Your breath hitched as he pressed the barrel of the gun against your cunt, the thin fabric of your panties the only thing stopping him from being able to slide it inside of you. 

Still, the cool metal sent a shiver through you as he rubbed it against your clit, black spots creeping into your peripheral as you hyperventilated through his sadistic experiment. He was hard. That much you knew, but what frightened you, perhaps most of all, was how wet you had become since he tied you up. Your skin still screamed against the rough twine that’d been cutting into your flesh, soon to draw blood as you kept struggling.

Your hips jerked, pressing the gun barrel closer to your pussy that was eager to betray you and clench around it if he just pushed past your panties and shoved it up there. You didn’t want him to do that, not in your right mind. But no one in your situation could be considered in their right mind, could they?

“Don’t fight it,” he encouraged gruffly, blue eyes piercing through you as he watched your knees threaten to give out as you neared orgasm. “Give the devil his due, mama.”

Your hands curled into fists, nails threatening to break through the skin of your palm. Then he did it. Slipped the barrel of the gun past your soaked cotton panties. Your brain short-circuited in a rush of terror and thrill at the sensation. You came, eyelids fluttering shut, a guttural moan tearing from your throat and pushing through your gag. Your limbs felt like ghosts, incorporeal parts of you that could only offer a vague sense of feeling compared to the sensation that overwhelmed your body, pleasure and adrenaline coursing through your veins all the same.

Gun be damned, you collapsed against the checkout counter, unable to support yourself any longer. Your chest heaved, unable to catch your breath with the now saliva-soaked bandana still shoved halfway down your throat. An astounded whine escaped your lips when he brought the gun up to his nose and sniffed. “This is it, mama. This is the devil’s salvation.”

He wasn’t making any damn sense, or your brain was too fuzzy to comprehend what he was saying. All you knew about the devil was from the Bible and that stupid Dr. Satan story people regurgitated like spoiled food. If Otis was the devil, you’d believe it, though.

The sound of a car door slamming shut made your eyes widen, and you glanced over your shoulder, your muffled screams of either help or warning to however was approaching.

“Sorry about this, darlin’. We’ll have a lot more fun later,” he said, hitting you across the face with the gun, sending you to the brink of consciousness. 

The bell on the door faintly jingled, and the last thing you remember seeing was a large, familiar figure walking towards you.

“C’mon and help me get ‘er in the car,” Otis said just as you passed out. "Don't forget the cash."

[wholoveseggs]

hi! I see you have a bunch of requests so I’m sorry to request but do you think you could write an Elijah angst with fluff ? Like y/n is upset because she thinks that elijah likes Hayley but he’s actually in love with her and has been for centuries but has always been too scared to tell her.

Always

18+ ---- {Masterlist}

Upon your unexpected appearance at the compound, centuries after being presumed dead, Elijah has to grapple with feelings he long buried and the consequences that come with it.

~♡♡ Thanks for the request anon(s) & @vervain3 ♡♡ - I combined all three ideas and made a jealousy triangle {square? circle? idk}~

3k words - Warnings: a little smutty right at the end, drama, angst, jealousy... vaguely refer to events from season 2 & 3... Klaus interfering & loving all the drama (Regina George energy)

It was a rare thing for Elijah Mikaelson to fall in love, but when he did, it was forever. In his one thousand years of living he could count on one hand the number of times his heart had truly belonged to someone else and he could recall, with exact detail, everything about them.

There was Tatia, the first woman he ever fell for, and then there was Katerina, or Katherine, who was a thorn in his side and a constant source of regret.Then Celeste came into the picture, a beautiful and powerful witch, her loss and betrayal still a bitter taste in his mouth.

And then there was you, the brightest light in his dark life. Your face still burned brightly in his memories and your name still danced on his tongue like the sweetest melody. You did things to him that no one else could, dissolving his burdens with just a smile.

You had captured his heart with just one look and he had been yours, mind, body, and soul. He was so in love with you, it hurt.

So when you died, he was shattered, torn apart and left to deal with the pain alone. He would see your face everywhere, haunting him and reminding him of his failure to protect the one he loved. To never be able to tell you how he felt was the most painful thing of all.

Centuries had passed since he lost you, his grief now a dull ache in his heart, but nothing had ever truly made the pain go away.

Hayley's presence in his life mended the broken pieces somewhat, but they were still damaged. His feelings for the hybrid would never be enough to erase the ghost of his love for you.

He accepted being content with what he had, knowing he didn't deserve anything more. That he was lucky to have met his soul mate, even if you were never truly his. To know that true love was real, if not fleeting.

So when he saw you, sitting on the sofa in the courtyard, laughing and chatting with Klaus, his heart stopped. He wondered if he was imagining you again, if his mind was playing a cruel trick on him.

But you turned, your gaze meeting his and the world stopped. He felt his knees grow weak, and his heart race.

You were real, you were here, you were alive.

And you looked just as beautiful as the day he last saw you.

But there was a bit of a problem, he was with Hayley now. You were back and he didn't know how to feel about that.

"Elijah, how long has it been? You look well." You greet him with a smile, pulling him in for a hug.

Elijah hesitated before wrapping his arms around you, inhaling the scent that he had thought he'd never experience again. He couldn't help but hold you a little tighter, afraid that if he let you go, you'd disappear.

"Y/N," he whispers softly.

You pull back, noticing the way his eyes seem to burn brighter, full of emotions you couldn't read.

"How are you? I haven't seen you since..." you trail off.

"Since you died," he finishes, his eyes looking at you curiously.

"Since you left me behind," you corrected him.

Elijah frowned, not understanding what you were talking about. The night Mikael returned, you were killed and your body burnt, at least, that's what Klaus had told him.

"Klaus said you were killed, we didn't have time to retrieve your body."

You shake your head. "That wasn't me, he was mistaken."

"So where were you?" he asked, still unable to believe you were really here.

"Here and there," you said with a smile, none of that mattered now.

You always had a soft spot for Elijah, when you first met him and his family, you found him to be so stoic and melancholic. You delighted in making him laugh, his smile lighting up his whole face and giving him the air of youth and carefreeness that you knew he had buried deep within him.

Nothing ever happened between you, he tended to fall for more serious types. But you never stopped loving him, he was always going to be the one you couldn't forget.

"You're as bad as Niklaus," Elijah said, chuckling lightly.

"I'll take that as a compliment," you grinned.

You were interrupted by a beautiful brunette with stunning hazel eyes, she walked up and placed her hand on Elijah's shoulder, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"Y/N, this is Hayley," Elijah introduced, his hand going to rest on her back.

Of course, you thought. She was exactly his type, beautiful and fierce.

You gave her a small smile, shaking her hand.

"How do you know Elijah?" she asked, curious.

"We met a very long time ago, in another place," you answered, giving Elijah a sidelong glance. "In another life."

Hayley looked between the two of you, sensing there was more to your relationship than you were letting on. She wasn't going to let you anywhere near what was hers.

"What brings you here? To New Orleans, I mean?"

"I heard the original family has settled here and I wanted to catch up with old friends," you replied. "But mostly, I'm just passing through,"

Hayley frowned, "old friends," she repeated, her hand tightening around Elijah's shoulder.

She had only just met you, but already, she knew she didn't like you. You seemed to have a permanent smirk on your face that reminded her of Klaus, and that made her distrust you instantly. And the way Elijah was looking at you made her feel uneasy, she had never seen him look so...happy.

"Oh," Elijah's expression faltered, his disappointment barely noticeable. "You're leaving?"

"Well, I don't want to overstay my welcome," you joked, your eyes flickering to Hayley's.

"How about you join us tonight for dinner," Klaus said, walking up and joining the group, he always knew exactly how to make an awkward situation worse. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."

You gave him a small smile. "Sure,"

When you arrived for dinner, you were surprised by the amount of people Klaus had invited. It was a bit of a relief, it would mean that you didn't have to be alone with Elijah and Hayley.

Klaus stood at the head of the table, making introductions, there were a number of vampires and werewolves present, including a werewolf alpha named Jackson and a handsome vampire named Marcel.

You greeted them all politely, before taking a seat next to Marcel.

"Y/N, this is my dear friend Marcellus," Klaus greeted, "you two have a remarkable amount in common."

Marcel smiles, "hello, beautiful."

"Hi," you smiled back, your eyes lingering on his, he had a killer smile and a charm to him that was difficult to resist.

You were glad to have someone to talk to, you could tell Marcel had a great sense of humor and you enjoyed his company. You also found yourself attracted to him, he was definitely your type.

"So, how do you know the Mikaelsons?" Marcel asked, a little confused. "I didn't think they had any friends outside their family,"

"Klaus turned me centuries ago, when they were hiding out in my town." You explain, taking a sip of your wine. "They needed allies, so he made some of us into vampires."

"Ahh, been there, done that." Marcel replied with a smile, leaning in closer, his hand brushing against yours.

Elijah watched from the other end of the table, his eyes flickering between the pair, his stomach knotting with every touch and look exchanged between you.

You didn't miss his glances, or his frowns, and you wondered what his problem was. He had his gorgeous girlfriend by his side, why was he looking at you this way?

Klaus delighted in the growing jealousy he could see bubbling up inside Elijah. He knew his brother had always loved you, but never made a move. And now, he was paying for it.

Klaus watched as you flirted with Marcel, enjoying the sight of Elijah growing increasingly frustrated.

"They seem cozy, how cute," he mused, his eyes gleaming.

"Yes, it appears that way," Elijah replied, his jaw clenching.

Hayley smiled at you and Marcel, "they’d make a good couple,"

"Would they?" Elijah asked, a hint of irritation in his tone.

Hayley didn't notice, she was too busy watching the way your eyes lingered on each other's and the way Marcel leaned in close and whispered in your ear, making you laugh.

Elijah didn't miss the spark in your eyes as you spoke with Marcel, the way your face lit up and the way his fingers traced patterns on your skin.

He wanted to rip his heart out.

He felt himself growing angrier by the minute, his hands clenched and his jaw tight. He could barely keep up with the conversation, his attention focused on you, his jealousy eating away at him.

There you were, so close, your laughter filling the air, the sound he had been longing to hear for so long. And he was stuck sitting across from you, watching you get closer to another man.

"Jackson, tell me about this ritual you mentioned earlier," Klaus said, interrupting Elijah's thoughts.

"Well," Jackson began, looking between Hayley and Elijah awkwardly. "It could possibly give the pack hybrid-like abilities,"

Hayley smiled, "that's exactly what we need Klaus, an army to protect our child."

"What would this ritual involve?" Elijah asked, trying to distract himself from the sound of your laughter.

"A marriage," Jackson answered. "Between myself and Hayley,"

"A marriage?" Hayley asked, confused. "I thought this was just a ritual?"

Jackson shook his head, "in order for it to work, we need to marry,"

Hayley frowned, looking between Jackson and Elijah. She wasn't sure how she felt about the idea of marrying anyone but Elijah, but she had no choice, she would do anything for her daughter.

"It would give us the power and numbers we need," Klaus agreed. "We could protect Hope from anyone who wished her harm."

Elijah felt strangely relieved, despite knowing how selfish it was. He thought he loved Hayley, that her marrying another would bother him, but he was more bothered by the way Marcel was touching you, he realized that his feelings for Hayley weren't enough.

He still loved you, and he always would.

"I guess that's it then," Hayley sighed, glancing over at Elijah, wondering what was going through his mind.

"We can discuss it further tomorrow, but I'm sure it's something that would benefit us all," Elijah said, his voice steady.

Hayley nodded, her heart breaking at his indifference. She didn't understand, she had hoped he would argue against it, at least a little bit, but it appeared she was mistaken.

She glanced over at you, seeing the way you kept looking at Elijah. She realized that your presence had shifted something in her relationship, and she couldn't help but feel a twinge of anger towards you.

After dinner, everyone had a drink or two and mingled. Elijah and Hayley found a private corner to chat about her wedding, their conversation awkward and strained, filled with hidden meanings.

"Are you alright?" Elijah asked, noticing the pain in her eyes.

"Yeah, fine." Hayley nodded, taking a sip of her drink. "I just thought you would... I dunno... Protest the wedding more."

Elijah hesitated, "we need to do whatever we can to bring home Hope." He spoke carefully, "you know that I... care for you."

Hayley looked away, trying to hide the hurt on her face. He 'cared for' her, but it wasn't enough.

"You care for me," she repeated, her voice lacking the inflection of surprise. "But you don't love me, do you?"

She looked up at him, their eyes locking. He looked at her sadly, the regret in his eyes telling her all she needed to know.

"You'll always have a place in my heart, Hayley," he said. "It's just-"

"She's back," she finished, nodding sadly. "You've always loved her."

Elijah didn't respond, instead he simply stared at her, their eyes full of unspoken words, unshed tears and the promise of a life together that would never be.

Hayley took a breath, blinking back her tears.

"I should probably go and join the others," she said, turning to walk away. "I'll… see you around,”

Elijah released a breath, running his hand through his hair. He stood there, debating whether he should go over and talk to you.

Hayley could tell from the way you'd been looking at him that your feelings for him were the same. She was hurt, and a little drunk, and a more than a bit angry.

Her eyes narrowed as she saw Marcel whisper something in your ear, his hand resting on your shoulder. You seemed to have every man here wrapped around your finger instantly, even Elijah.

Hayley walked up to you, her eyes flashing. "It's incredible how you just return out of the blue and have every man here panting at your heels."

You raised an eyebrow, not expecting the hostility.

"I'm sorry, have I offended you in some way?" You asked, giving her a confused look.

"No, you're just a slut who can't seem to keep her hands off the men around here." Hayley snapped.

You looked at her in surprise, a small smirk tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, Marcel and I were only flirting," you replied.

Hayley glared at you, her fists clenching. You could see the rage burning in her eyes, and you were tempted to push her further, just to see how far you could take it. But before you could, Jackson was by her side, a worried look on his face.

"Come on Hayley, let's get some air," he said, pulling her away from you.

Marcel watched as they left, his arm draped around your shoulders.

"What was that about?" He asked, glancing down at you.

"Your guess is as good as mine," you shrugged, your gaze drifting over to Elijah.

He was looking at you as well, his eyes wide and searching, as if he couldn't believe you were really there.

"I'm sorry Marcel, I think I'm going to turn in early," you said, smiling apologetically. "It's been a long day."

Marcel nodded, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"Call me sometime, if you're interested," he said with a grin, winking playfully.

"Sure, thanks." You nodded, returning his smile.

You made your way over to Klaus, thanking him for the dinner, and bidding him a goodnight. You then approached Elijah, a small smile on your face, your heart pounding.

"It's wonderful to see you, after all these years," he said, his voice a little hoarse.

"You too, Elijah." You said, giving him a genuine smile.

"I want to show you something, before you go." He said, extending his hand out to you.

You hesitated, glancing down at his hand, a part of you afraid to get your hopes up, to believe that he saw you as more than a friend. But when your eyes met his, you could see something in his gaze, and it gave you the confidence you needed to take his hand.

"Lead the way,"

Elijah gave you a small smile, leading you to his study. He walked over to his desk, searching around until he pulled out a wooden box.

He placed it on the desk, opening the lid. Inside was a pendant necklace, a gold chain with a small emerald medallion hanging from it, with your initials engraved.

You hadn't seen it in centuries, not since the night you parted, and the sight of it brought a flood of emotions crashing down.

"You kept it," you whispered, your eyes stinging with tears.

"Of course," Elijah replied, his voice quiet, a smile playing on his lips. "It was yours, it belongs with you."

Your fingers gently grazed the pendant, the cool metal a reminder of your human life. It was given to you by your mother, the only thing you had left of her. You had treasured it, and when it broke, Elijah had offered to get it fixed for you.

But when Mikael arrived and you were separated, you thought it was forever lost.

"You got it fixed," you whispered, a tear rolling down your cheek.

"Yes, it was important to you." Elijah replied, his voice soft, a smile on his face.

"After all these years, after everything, why did you keep it?" You asked, confused.

"It was all I had left of you," he replied, his voice barely audible.

You swallowed, unable to speak, your throat tight and your chest aching. You'd never imagined he'd held onto such a keepsake, a reminder of you he held onto for centuries after he believed you to be dead.

Elijah gently picked up the necklace, placing it around your neck, his hands lingering.

"I'm happy to return this to you," he whispered. "It's where it belongs."

Your hand went up to the pendant, tears streaming down your cheeks. You turned to face him and his hand cupped your cheek, wiping away the tears. You leaned into his touch, his skin warm against yours.

He stared into your eyes, his expression filled with emotion, his heart beating erratically.

"I want you to know that I..." his voice trailed off as he struggled to find the right words. "That I have never forgotten you."

"I never forgot you either," you whispered, your gaze dropping to his lips, your own parting.

He leaned in slowly, closing the gap between you. His lips were soft, gentle, as they pressed against yours, you both sighed, melting into each other. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close.

He moved you back until you hit the desk, his lips moving down your neck, nipping and kissing, causing you to moan. Your hands grasped at his clothes, tugging him closer, desperate for him.

Elijah lifted you onto the desk, pushing his body between your legs, his hardness pressed against you. His mouth was on yours again, his hands roaming your body, exploring every inch.

"Wait, wait," you panted, breaking the kiss. "You are with Hayley,"

Elijah paused, his eyes locked with yours, his chest heaving. "Not anymore."

You stared at him, confusion and desire muddling your thoughts.

"What?" You managed, still struggling to catch your breath.

"We broke up, tonight," he explained, his voice husky, his hands caressing your thighs.

You shook your head, trying to clear your mind, but his closeness and his hands on your body were making it impossible to think. He kissed you again, his lips hungry, his tongue delving into your mouth, tasting you.

You moaned, arching into him, your hands roaming his body, pulling him closer. His hands tugged at your dress, hiking it up your thighs, moving your panties to the side.

"I want you," he muttered, his eyes dark, filled with lust.

You whispered his name as his fingers slipped inside you, his thumb rubbing your clit. His mouth was on your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, nibbling softly. You gasped, your hands grasping at his belt, trying desperately to undo it.

He pushed his pants and underwear down, his cock springing free. He positioned himself between your legs, easing into you slowly. Your eyes locked, both of you filled with an intense, desperate need for the other.

Elijah groaned, gripping the desk, his knuckles turning white, as he began thrusting into you, slow and deep. You clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders, your moans filling the room.

His movements became faster, more frantic, his cock hitting that spot deep inside you. You felt yourself getting closer, your muscles tightening, your breathing becoming shallow.

His lips crashed against yours, his hands gripping your thighs, holding them open. The desperate way he was fucking you was a testament to the feelings he held for you, and it only fueled your desire for him.

You moaned into his mouth as you came, your orgasm hitting you hard, making your body tremble, your muscles spasming.

Elijah buried his face in your neck, sinking his fangs into you as he let go, his body shuddering. You held him, stroking his hair, feeling his body relax.

"I've always loved you," he whispered.

"I love you, too." You replied, kissing his temple.

He kissed you again, his hands cradling your face. He smiled at you, his eyes filled with warmth, and a deep love that was reserved only for you.

It felt like coming home.

♡♡ Hayley is jealous of you -> you are jealous of Hayley -> Elijah is jealous of Marcel... & Marcel is too cool to care. ♡♡ ~What kind of jealously geometry is this??? I'm a writer not a mathematician lol~

[dinneronvenus]

Doesn’t Matter Now

⭑ Gojo x fem reader

⭑ inspired by the song “doesn’t matter now” by flyingfish (listen to that while you read for max effect)

⭑ tags: ANGST ON 100, description of a jujutsu technique that forfeits the sorcerer’s life, death, a funeral, a hopeless and depressed Gojo goes to a medium, hinted reincarnation

⭑ synopsis: Gojo already lost his only true friend, so he never thought losing a woman could hurt him so badly

“There’s nothing you could’ve done, Gojo. You didn’t even know.” Utahime spoke softly, her own pain wanting to break through in her voice. “Nobody did.”

Gojo remained silent, eyes glazed over, a cocktail of negative emotions mixing in his mind. He couldn’t even look at Utahime, whose outfit would remind him of you. They stood in the ruins of the shrine your family had built and ran for generations. It had come under attack by many cursed spirits and you had fulfilled your duty to protect the people who lived and worked there, as well as its secrets. With everyone else safe, it would be rebuilt and restored to its original glory, something that should have been a silver lining.

“It is not uncommon for a high priestess to give her life for her people.” Utahime said, voice breaking at the end. This brought Gojo even less comfort.

“You think I don’t know that? You think I hadn’t heard her say those exact words to me before?!” He snapped, still not able to take his eyes off the scene in front of him. It was Utahime’s turn to stay silent.

In the middle of the leveled temple, there was the evidence of your bravery. A set of heavy stone doors bearing an ancient inscription, left open by whatever you had summoned to walk through them, loomed over the two sorcerers. Gojo already knew they’d be used as a gate to honor your memory and remember your sacrifice. His eyes begged to see any scrap of you in the rubble. Maybe this was just a trick, and you were hiding behind one of the doors.

“What could her technique have been to have killed her in the process?” He whispered to the open air, not thinking anyone could’ve heard him.

“Gehenna Gate, it is a technique with the highest of costs,” A raspy voice broke the unbearable quiet. It was your mother, who despite everything, managed to keep a small smile on her face for your surviving friends. “I am sorry she never told you that properly. She wanted to protect you, in her own way.” Her hand came down on Gojo’s shoulder and the kindness in her touch almost burned him alive.

“I didn’t… I wish she…” Gojo stuttered out, hot tears stinging his eyes. Your mother pulled him into a hug, shushing him like a child.

Five days later, your funeral was to be held at your family cemetery in the mountains overlooking the temple. Gojo had no idea how he would survive that. He spent the time until your funeral looking for someone who could communicate with the dead. Thanks to his power and connections, he found one the night before and prepared himself to have one last conversation with you.

“Welcome, sir. I assume you’re here to see Mistress Takemi?” The young man spoke just loud enough to be heard over the jingle of the bell from the door shutting behind him.

“Yeah, and she knows already so I’m just gonna head back there,” Gojo sauntered through the foyer and down the hall to the back room where a woman in black and purple robes standing over a large glass table was waiting on him.

“Welcome Satoru,” she spoke cheerfully with a deep voice that echoed her years of life.

“Don’t call me that. Can we get started?” The overly familiar attitude irked him. The woman cleared her throat and dropped her cheerful act.

“I suppose we can get right to it then.”

The woman had a technique that essentially made her into a human ouija board. Her hands rested on the glass table and it began to glow a soft greenish-blue. Gojo could see the dark circles and puffiness of his eyes in the reflection, suddenly feeling ashamed of himself for being this unable to accept that you were gone.

“Satoru?” His name again, but this time he could hear your voice mixing with Takemi’s voice. He said your name in disbelief, tears of joy in his eyes.

“Yes, yes! It’s me, I wa—”

“You can’t do this, Satoru. It’s against the laws.”

“Please, don’t tell me that right now. You hid so much from me, please just let me ask you one thing.”

Silence. Fearing he’d miss his chance, he went ahead with his question.

“Did you ever really love me?” The depth of sadness and desperation in his voice was unbearable to you, even in your disembodied state. “Why couldn’t you have told me? I could’ve helped you, I would’ve done anything to have saved you.”

“In the mountains where they’ll bury me, follow a trail that begins with pink and white flowers. You’ll find everything you want to know at the end. Goodbye, Satoru.”

“No, no, no,” He wiped the tears from his face and gripped both of Takemi’s shoulders, shouting. “Please come back! I can’t do this again!”

Regaining full control of herself, Takemi pushed Gojo off her and had him escorted out of her shop. The whole world was one hideous shade of grey. He walked for a while with no destination in mind but the grave. He wanted to go find that trail right now but he didn’t have anything else left in him. He wanted to sleep for the rest of his life. Returning home, he set his alarm and went to bed with your instructions in mind.

Utahime and Gojo walked with each other up the mountain to the funeral site. Utahime thought it was odd but refreshing to see him dressed in more traditional clothing. Just one more thing that only you could get him to do.

Everyone took their places, and your father stepped up to the podium. “We are gathered here to send our beloved high priestess to her place of final rest with her ancestors…”

Once the funeral was complete, no one but Gojo, Utahime and your mother lingered too long.

“I’m sorry again for your loss, ma’am.” Utahime said, bowing deeply. Your mother gave her another one of those wise, otherworldly smiles.

“I don’t think I’ve really lost her.” She said before taking a last look around the cemetery and turning to leave. “Why don’t we give him some space?” She motioned to Gojo and Utahime followed her.

Now alone with your memory and your ghost, Gojo began to look for this trail you had mentioned. It took him a while to find it but when he did, his path to the end was quick. It led to a small clearing where the grass was lush, and he was consumed by the smell of many different kinds of flowers and plants. The sight of the small garden was as beautiful as you were to him.

Looking around for anything that could be the answer you spoke of, he saw a faint bit of energy coming from inside a tree. When he got close to the tree, he found it had a hollow spot in it where you’d left a diary. He fished it out and walked to a shaded place in the clearing to begin reading it. Every page was an entry about the two of you together. All of your private feelings from when he was just a crush, and once you had gotten closer, you even glued in pictures you’d taken together.

Gojo couldn’t control his tears or hide his sobs. His body shook against the tree as he held the diary close to his chest. He calmed down enough to continue reading it, with the last entry being dated a week ago.

She knew she was going to die… He thought. You had written about the rise of cursed spirits in the area of increasing numbers and strength and how you felt like it was time for you to fulfill your duty to your people. More than that though, you wrote about how you wished you could have told Gojo. How you wanted to stay with him forever, how he was the only thing you’d ever loved as much as you loved the Gods, and how because of that you wanted to make sure he was safe and didn’t have to fight for once.

It was all too much, Gojo swore he would drown in his own tears right there. The wind picked up and blew the diary’s pages, landing on entry from before you two had met.

6.25 — Training Notes: after a long session of training and studying my technique’s history in my family. I have learned of a way I might be able to circumvent its cost. If I summon a deity of destruction that has the ability to reincarnate, then I will reincarnate too! One of my ancestors did that long ago, although it took 59 days for them to come back.

Gojo couldn’t believe what he was reading. He wiped his eyes on his sleeves furiously and scrambled to his feet. He stored your diary in an inner pocket of his kimono and made his way down the mountains to the temple ruins.

He inspected the gate and found exactly what he needed to be able to accept the loss of the only woman he’s ever loved. Utahime was strolling the grounds when she noticed him in the air, getting a close look at the doors.

“Gojo, what do you think you’re doing? Get down here!” Utahime found his behavior so disgraceful. He chuckled on his way back to earth.

“I was just checking on something. Had to be sure that I wasn’t seeing things.”

His eyes were red and puffy, but his annoyingly cheerful attitude was starting to return. Utahime couldn’t tell if she was relieved or annoyed.

“Checking on what?”

“Eh,” Gojo put a hand over the diary in his pocket.

“Doesn’t matter now.”

[exrellian]

Replaced MC AU

Three parts in one day! This part gets a lot more serious and where the drama really starts!

TW: Descriptions of pain/burning, the brothers being assholes to MC, manipulation.

Could things get any worse?

The rest of the day came and went, MC just stayed in his room, holding the tears from overflowing. MC didn’t sleep a wink that night, instead deciding to clean his room and organize all his things… just in case. Luckily for him, Amelia must have spent the night in someone else’s room so he didn’t have to worry about being suspicious or having Amelia find where his valuables were.

When it become morning MC made his way to Lucifers room. Raising his hand to knock on the door, he stopped, hearing voices from inside.

“Don’t worry Amelia. We will make sure he will never hurt you again.”

“Please don’t be mean to him! I don’t think he is a bad person, he might just be jealous! You and your brothers seem to like me more so I can see why he is bothered!”

“That is no excuse for him to attack you and hurt your beautiful face. He will not bother you any more.”

‘Did someone attack Amelia? Was it a demon?’ The door opened, interrupting MCs thoughts, he was now face to face with an injured Amelia and angry Lucifer

“Hey, sorry for eavesdropping but was Amelia attacked? Are you okay Amelia?” He asked, inspecting the wounds littering her face, it looked like a pretty bad attack

“Don’t play dumb MC. Are you trying to completely ruin the exchange program?” Lucifers voice was filled with a poorly restrained rage, as if he was about to unleash “All of my brothers have told me of how mean you’ve been to Amelia and it is unacceptable.” He continued, pushing Amelia behind him as if to protect her

“What? I’ve been nothing but kind to Amelia! She is a human and I know how dangerous the Devildom is!” MC tried to defend himself, unsure why he is being blamed for the attack on Amelia when he hadn’t left his room all night

“Stop talking. Your excuses will not work on me. Now Amelia insists on not sending you back to the human world like I had originally intended, so, we will be separating the two of you for her safety and you will be staying at Purgatory hall for the time being, at least until you have learned how to be a decent human being. I have already discussed this arrangement with my brothers and lord Diavolo and we all agree this is the best course of action. Be better, MC”

MC walked back to their room in deafening silence, what was happening? Why was everyone turning against him?

Amelia’s POV

“Thank you Lucifer! I actually wanted to ask you and the brothers something at breakfast, but MC can’t be there so let’s get going!” She giggled, dragging Lucifer to the dining hall, him following with a small smile, what an adorable human.

When the two got to the dining hall the other six were already eating

“Everyone, Amelia has something she would like to ask so pay attention.” Lucifer drew all eyes to him and Amelia

“Where is MC?” Satan asked, growing more concerned when a chorus of scoffs and groans came from his brothers “What happened!? Is he okay?”

“He will not be living here anymore. He has crossed the line by attacking Amelia and has been moved to Purgatory hall, he is up packing his belongings this moment.” Lucifer explained, rolling his eyes at his younger brother

“What!? He attacked Amelia? He would have no reason to do that though, they have been getting along well and MC is absolutely not the type of person to attack someone without reason.” At this point Satan had stood from his seat and completely disregarded his book. “Has MC not saved this family on multiple occasions? Has he not sacrificed everything for us? Why are all of you suddenly turning on him!?”

“Satan. Sit down. The decision about MC has been made.” Lucifer scolded, his demon form emerging

“Satan… I also have faith in MC! I was the one who convinced Lucifer not to fully kick him out of the exchange program! Please Satan, just listen to what I have to ask” Amelia spoke, not breaking eye contact with Satan. Satan sighed and sat down, attention still on Amelia “please, I want all of you to do me a favor, break your pacts with MC.”

MCs POV

As he was packing his belongings into his bags, MC felt a scorching pain flowing through his body, like someone had replaced his blood with molten lava. He screamed in pain before collapsing to the ground, seeing the pact mark on the back of his hand burn and fade away

“Why… why did Satans pact mark… burn off?”

He had no clue what was happening, he couldn’t even think due to the pain coursing through his veins. After a few minutes the pain dissipated, leaving him with just an ache through his whole body as he lay on the ground, curled into a ball beside his bed. With that, the boy lost consciousness.

When he awoke, the pain was only faint.

“Oh dear, why are you on the ground? Have you really stooped so low you would do anything for attention?” A slightly feminine voice spoke from above him, looking up he locked eyes with Asmodeus

“Asmo… why did my pacts burn away? What… what happened?”

“Is this really ok because we broke our pacts with you? You being this dramatic for something as minuscule as that? Foolish human.” He scoffed at the boy on the ground before leaving the room.

‘They broke their pacts with me? But why? What did I do wrong?’

His mind was racing, he knew he had to finish packing and get out as fast as he could. That task seemed to be easier than expected, seeing as his side of the room was suddenly stripped empty, none of his belongings anywhere to be found, even his DDD which was previously in his pocket was missing.

MC wasn’t stupid, he knew exactly what happened and that he had zero chance of getting any of it back. He had one more place to look, where he had previously hidden some spare change, just about 50 Grimm in case of emergency. He lifted his mattress of the bed frame and looked for the small tare in the fabric, finding the Grimm he had hidden… thank god they weren’t smart enough to check here.

He left the house in silence, noticing a note on the door that was addressed to him

“To; MC

I am extremely disappointed in your actions toward Amelia, it is shocking to see someone as kind as you give into your emotions so easily. I expected better from you. Due to the recent events you will be suspended from RAD for the time being, I will reach out when you can come back.

Sincerely;

Lord Diavolo”

MC didn’t even react to the letter, just shoved it in his pocket and left. Not going to Purgatory Hall, he couldn’t trust anyone anymore. He had no clue where he was going.

MC found himself in an alleyway, tired and hungry, unable to go buy himself food without wasting all of his emergency money. As if the world just wanted to make things worse, he felt a few drops of rain turn into a downpour. Could things get any worse?

[writeforfandoms]

Waking Lions 20

Find the series masterlist

We're changing things up a little this chapter! I felt you guys needed a POV switch to really get a better picture of what's going on.

So, let's check in with Price and see how he's handling this, shall we?

Warnings: swearing, yelling, game typical violence, war crimes probably, Price needs his own warning, canon typical violence against nameless goons.

Word count: 2.3k

In his defense, Price had a lot on his mind. 

But no. That was no kind of defense. 

Especially not when it came to you. 

He'd sent you away because he had to, because otherwise you'd be too distracting. He had to focus on the task at hand. 

Not on thinking about everything he'd just learned about you. Everything you'd let slip in your fluster. 

He knew you well enough to know that you'd be mortified, later. You kept so many things to yourself that knowing an entire room full of people had heard that would probably send you into hiding. 

From the way Laswell glanced at the door after you left, Price knew that she was thinking the same thing. 

But there would be time later to console you, to apologize for being an ass, to make sure you were alright. 

For now, he had work to do. 

Now that there were three groups involved, it was easier to split up the targets. Easier to send Soap with Alejandro and Rodolfo, to keep Ghost with him and Gaz, to let KorTac keep to themselves. This wasn't the kind of mission he wanted to test by putting together potentially explosive personalities. 

(Price could admit, if only to himself, that he didn't trust himself to work with those three. Not right now, not with the new intel still so close to the surface, not with his own curiosity burning a hole in his stomach.) 

The three targets were, of course, not near each other. 

“I can arrange transport,” Laswell said. It was not an offer for the 141 or the Vaqueros, but it was an offer for KorTac. 

“We've got our own,” Declan said, a relatively gentle refusal. “Timing will be tight.” 

“Just have to coordinate,” Alejandro said, unbothered. “We won't give them a chance to warn each other.” 

“Give me a little time to coordinate the flights,” Laswell said, stepping closer to Declan. It was as close to a dismissal as the rest of them would get. She didn't need them hanging over her shoulder while she worked her magic. 

So Price stepped out of the room, his boys behind him. 

“Think Ace is alright?” Gaz asked softly. He was a smart, perceptive lad. Cared so much still. Probably too much, sometimes. 

“I'll check in on her,” Price murmured. He still had one phone number that worked for you, fortunately. 

It rang through to voice mail. 

Okay. Not to panic. Didn't mean anything. 

Soap and Ghost ran off to get lunch for everyone, since planning was best done on a full stomach. 

Price tried calling again. No answer again. 

It could be a thousand things. You could have your phone on silent. You could be mad at him and ignoring his calls. You could be busy with something else. 

But his paranoia was rearing its head, undeniable and ugly. 

You were right in the middle of all this, of course he was going to be concerned about you. 

So he went on a little walk. To help clear his head. 

He didn't see any sign of you. Every bit of his hard-won paranoia was screaming that something was wrong. That this wasn't like you. 

One more phone call. One more. 

Then he'd move on to more drastic measures. 

The third call also went to voice mail. You weren't picking up. One he could excuse, two was iffy. But three calls?

Something was wrong. 

“Gaz,” he called as he strode back into the building. “Need the laptop.” 

Gaz was quick to produce it, giving Price a curious look. “Need any help, sir?”

“Maybe.” Price pulled up one of the programs Laswell had given him. Normally this kind of work was more up her alley - CIA shit, as Simon more or less affectionately referred to it. But Price wasn't clueless, or useless. 

Gaz behind him, watching over his shoulder. Price didn't discourage him, focused on putting in your number and letting the program do its job. 

Let this be nothing. Let him be paranoid. He could handle your temper, your hiding, your embarrassment. 

So long as you were safe. 

The tracker put your phone in a mostly residential area, well out of the way. Not near the hotel, not near anything the two of you had talked about. 

Something was wrong. 

It didn’t take him long to pull up CCTV in the area, flipping through them. There wasn’t a lot, and his jaw tightened in frustration. 

“Wait,” Gaz said over his shoulder. “Go back one.”

Price obliged, going back to the previous angle. 

“There, in the grass on the far side of the street.” Gaz pointed, shifting closer. 

Price’s heart sank right down to his boots. A cell phone lay in the grass, abandoned. He knew you well enough to know that you wouldn’t just leave your cell phone. Not without reason.

Wordlessly, he backed up the footage until he found you. He paused for a moment, taking in the scene. The car. You, standing back just a little. The man clearly encouraging you in. 

He backed up until you came into frame. 

But you weren’t alone.

“Laswell!” 

The door slammed open and Laswell was at his elbow moments later, leaning over his open shoulder. “Fuck,” she hissed, which was all the confirmation Price needed. 

The man with you was Gray. 

“How did he get her into the car?” Gaz, quiet and reasonable. 

“Threats,” Price grunted. 

“Me,” Laswell added, lips tight, fury in the crease of her brow. “He’s using me against her.” 

Price scowled. Gray needed to be taken out. Immediately. But they couldn’t give up the mission, either. 

“Track the car,” he told Gaz, pushing the laptop to his sergeant instead. “I need to know where they’re going.”

“Sir?” Gaz blinked at him, even as he pulled up the program. 

“I need some supplies.” He looked to Laswell next. 

“I’ll have them for you.” Laswell glanced back at Gaz, putting things together a little faster. “The op?”

“Needs to move forward.” Price shook his head. “I’ll be back in time, or I won’t. Gaz, you and Ghost are still on.” 

Gaz frowned but didn’t object. Good lad. “Car’s left the suburbs,” he reported, a map pulled up on his phone. “Heading south.” 

“We’ll find it again,” Laswell said, nodding to Price. “Here. Go here, take whatever you need.” She handed him an address scribbled on a piece of paper. “I’ll update you when we find the car.”

Price took the note with a nod and strode away. He didn’t wait for the elevator, hitting the door to the stairs hard enough it bounced off the wall of the stairwell. He didn’t slow, even as he hit the front door and just sidestepped running into Soap.

“Captain?” Soap called.

“Ask Laswell!” Price called over his shoulder, car keys in hand. He didn’t have time to stop and explain. 

It took very little time to get to Laswell’s supply stash, and he took what he needed. Fortunately, she was well supplied, and he made a mental note to thank her for it.

But for now, the only thing on his mind was you. 

You’d been gone for hours by now, and from the time stamp on the CCTV, you’d been in the car with Gray at least an hour. 

He stopped at the curb next to where Gaz had spotted your phone, getting out. And there it was, still sitting in the grass. 

Still open to show a new recording. 

Price listened the whole recording, jaw clenched tight, fingers gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. 

Gray knew more than he should. He had sources, clearly. 

But Price couldn’t bring himself to care much about that. No. 

He cared about the little waver in your voice, the way he could hear you putting up a brave front. 

You were terrified. And he wanted to rip Gray limb from limb for making you so scared. 

Gaz called. Price barely glanced at the phone before he connected the call. 

“We’ve got a location,” Gaz reported, voice even. Almost too even. Price could hear the stress he was hiding. 

“Tell me.” Price didn’t even pause as he memorized the address, just in case. “Picked up Ace’s phone.” 

“Anything?” Gaz tried not to sound hopeful.

“Ace got a recording before she got in the car.” Price had to pause for a moment, clenching his jaw. “He knows too much. Knew about us, said he’s got something planned for Laswell, too.” 

“Fucking hell.” Gaz drew in a deep breath. “Sure you don’t need backup, sir?” 

“I’ll keep you updated.” Price barreled through a yellow light, ignoring everything not an active danger to him. “How are your preparations going?” 

“Laswell’s got the flights arranged,” Gaz said, a little reluctantly. “Timing is coordinated. We’ll be leaving in a few hours.”

“Rog.” Price doubted he’d make it back in time. And if, by some miracle, he did, he didn’t know if he’d be in the correct frame of mind to be on mission. 

“Take the next left.”

Price obeyed without question, only breaking one or two traffic laws. (It was fine, Laswell would clear it up later.) “The others?”

“Up to date,” Gaz reported. “Had to talk Soap out of going after you.”

Price snorted. Surprising - he hadn’t known that sergeant had much fondness for you. Then again, Soap could just be reacting because Price was fond of you. Sometimes that was enough. “I trust Ghost is behaving.”

Gaz huffed. “Define behaving,” he grumbled, overly dramatic. Breaking the tension a bit. 

“He hasn’t killed anyone yet or there’d be a lot more yelling.” Price scowled at the driver ahead of him, who was going exactly the speed limit. 

“Laswell’s on top of everything,” Gaz assured him. “Go right, cut up two streets, and then left.”

Price grunted as he followed Gaz’s directions, pushing his foot down as soon as he was out from behind the slow driver. “How far?”

“Rate you’re going? Fifteen minutes.” 

Price breathed slowly. You’d have been alone with Gray for near two hours by that point. He had no idea what condition he’d find you in. If you’d even be alive. The thought sent pain through his chest, clenching and sharp, but he forced himself not to shy away from it.

It was a possibility, even if it was one he did not want to face. 

If it was true… if you were already gone…

He’d burn Gray alive. 

Price switched from the call to a comm unit he tucked in his ear before he headed out of the car. He’d parked a little ways away, just in case. The abandoned hotel was in clear sight, fortunately no taller than the surrounding buildings. Still too many hiding places, sniper spots. 

That was fine. Price would just clear the entire fucking building room by room until he had you back.  

“Careful, sir. I count six outside.” 

“Together?” Price crept forward, using a parked van as a hiding spot. 

“Spread out. Three teams of two.”

Price’s lips thinned. Time to thin out the herd, then. 

The first two fell so quickly they were almost simultaneous. Price moved around the van, keeping low and creeping towards the next pair, the silenced pistol firm in his grip. This was normal, easier. It was easy to view these people as the enemy, easy to clear them out systematically, coolly, silently. And they were the enemy - they were working for Gray, who had clearly allied himself on the ultranationalists and terrorists.  

Which all meant that Price felt no guilt, no remorse, not even a flicker of hesitation in taking down every single man between him and you. 

“I have no cameras inside,” Gaz told him as Price finally approached the door. 

“Copy,” Price grunted. “Going dark.” He breached the door as quietly as he could, looking around. 

So far, so good.

The ground level of this building was an absolute wreck of furniture, graffiti, and rubble. Dust, dirt, and debris covered most of the floor. The main area was a mess of footprints and an open crate of supplies.

No good hints as to where Gray had taken you.

Price cleared the ground floor methodically, cold rage spurring him on. He didn’t spare any of the bodies that hit the ground a second look.

They were nothing more than obstacles. 

The last door was more than just a room, though. There was a half-open door, with a staircase going down. Maintenance, at a guess. 

And soft voices from down there. 

Too far away to tell if you were down there. But if Price had to bet, he’d guess that you were. Gray would keep you contained and out of danger, at least until he got what he wanted from you. 

“John,” Laswell said over the comm.

Price paused, pulling back from the open doorway, pitching his voice low so it wouldn’t carry. “Laswell.”

“I found some backup for you. You’ll recognize him.” 

Price blinked but didn’t allow himself any other sign of surprise. “Copy that. I’m headed downstairs - room near the back of the building has stair access.”

“I’ll pass that along.” Laswell drew in a breath, and Price waited. “If you can, bring Gray back alive.”

His lips pulled back from his teeth. “No promises.”

“Good hunting, John.” Laswell clicked off the comm. 

Price breathed in deep. Someone would be coming behind him, backup. He just needed to not shoot his backup. And possibly not shoot Gray. 

That would depend entirely on how you were when he found you. 

Price nudged the door open enough to slip through, descending silently. 

The first guard went down silently, and Price dragged the body out of the hallway and into a closet. That would buy him a little time if any other guards came through. 

A double tap through the com got his attention, and Price half-turned to find a familiar face walking down the corridor towards him. 

Price grinned, probably showing a few too many teeth. “Good to see you again,” he murmured. “Let’s get on it, sergeant.”

[slipperzipper]

Rescue (Heimdall x Reader)

| Pairing: Heimdall x Reader

| angst turned to comfort/fluff? Reader saving Heimdall from his canon ending, established relationship, Could be seen as romantic or platonic, Let me know if I need to add other things to this as well!

| wrds: 4.1k!

| Disclaimer!: Descriptions of Injuries and Blood (burns, missing limbs, etc), minor Grammar and Spelling mistakes so apologies, Kind of weird start

You wouldn’t have expected to be here, but yet here you were. 

Kratos and Freya venturing to Vanaheim to retrieve her brother was the goal, as long as stopping Heimdall from potentially killing Atreus. Gjallarhorn was the only thing needed from the Aesir. You thought you could come and help in case anything else had gone wrong.

 

But when Kratos turned back from his promise and started strangling the weakened god, you followed them just in time to hear Mimir shout out pleas for the god killer to stop and think. Fortunately you barrelled straight into Kratos, sending him tumbling before turning around and traversing to the side where his arm was missing.

You fell on your knees. Wrapping an arm behind his shoulders, forcing him to sit up, while you grabbed his free hand and grasped it as a sense of comfort in his near death state. His blood started to stain your clothing but that did not bother you right now, right now the only concern you had was Heimdall. 

You didn’t fail to notice how Heimdall’s left hand came to his throat, as if to feel how bruised and put a barrier between him and anyone else that might try to strangle him. His harsh breathing could be heard through short wheezes and gasps. 

You could see Kratos grabbing Mimir’s head before standing tall. You heard Mimir quip about how if you weren’t here it would’ve been a lot worse, you couldn’t help but agree.

You rip a spare sheet of cloth off of your own outfit, using it to clear the blood of the golden god’s face, now his eyes didn’t seem as pink as they were. His face wasn’t perfectly cleaned but it would have to do. 

“Do you plan to come with us to retrieve Freyr and his camp?” Kratos’ voice rumbled out from his chest. 

“Do you mind if we do?” You reply with a much quieter tone, only for him to ‘Hm’ out before he stepped away. Only to wait for you when he finished busting a wall of various spears and long logs of wood. 

You redirected your attention to Heimdall, he was staring up at you. “Are.. are you really going to make.. me go with you?” His voice was slowly gaining back its usual tone and sound, but not as quickly as you liked. 

“We’re going to make things better. Better for the both of us, and if we don’t start now..” You trailed off, trying to think of the right thing to say but everything you thought would result in him being less than pleased with you, but you had to do the right thing.

“Heimdall, your father has made everything miserable for everyone. He makes you miserable. The sooner you realize that, the quicker we can make our lives better. We can make Asgard better” Brushing a strand of hair from his face, you looked at all his features.

His eyes were definitely the first thing people would notice about him, if not his intricately done hair, and how messy it was from normal. His hand was gripped towards yours like it was his lifeline and you couldn’t help but feel how textured his hands were. Not as rough as a warrior’s usually was around the nine realms but detailed enough to know the difference.

You soon tore a strip of fabric off yourself and wrapped his stub, to prevent any more blood loss. It wouldn’t do much but for now it’s all you could do. All he did was stare, stare at you with beautiful magenta eyes. After ‘fixing’ up his arm, you could only stare back. 

Heimdall was slow to respond but he eventually replied in a way you didn’t expect. 

“You should’ve let me die.”

It took you moments until Kratos grunted again to let you know it was time to go. You sighed before getting and pulling Heimdall up with you. 

He stumbled when he stood up but with little stability in his legs, he decided to tough it out. You wanted to argue that it wouldn’t do him any good, but he only insisted. 

You held his shoulders with an arm as the two of you ventured forward, only being a few short feet behind. The natural flora and forestry did not help distract from both Heimdall’s injuries and the burning building that only burned brighter the more time passed. 

Once you found Kratos standing near a ledge, you parted from Heimdall for a short moment to see what the god of war saw. You saw Atreus, the sweet young boy you’ve grown to know through various interactions, letting Hildisvini lead the way as Freya helped Freyr escape.

It reminded you of Heimdall’s condition, but you couldn’t help when Atreus waved at you, you waved back. 

“Hey, a little help?” The young god proclaimed before following after the three more experienced warriors alongside him. “At least the rescues going well” Mimir’s accent was heard, following that up was Kratos’s grunt.

You looked back to Heimdall and fortunately he was still standing and he was right behind you. Grabbing his shoulders again as you followed Kratos more under flora and alternate paths that ultimately lead to the same place. You heard the voices of the rescue team explain how Freyr was hurt in the wreckage, you heard Heimdall wheeze a little bit at it. The two of you continued to venture

You noticed how much strength he was losing by the second. His steps were getting slower and slower and you knew if he were to continue like this then he wouldn’t get anywhere. 

“Heimdall, you and I know you can’t continue like this.” You speak out, stopping Heimdall in his tracks by walking in front of him and planting your hands on his shoulders. Making him look at you. 

“I can continue- now let me.” The golden god spoke before trying to step to the side of you. You didn’t let that happen, instead you forced him to piggyback on you. Getting comfortable while grumbling quietly, Heimdall sat his chin on your head and locked his arm around your neck for security. 

You started walking with the newfound weight on your back. Venturing further, You heard Heimdall small moans of hurt every few times you stepped. Eventually you heard the god of war shout ‘TO ME! FOLLOW!’ and the constant quips of the Vanir God or “Sizzles” as Heimdall liked to call him.

You immediately picked up your pace and started running towards them. You demanded that Heimdall hang tight as you started to move your legs faster and quicker to try and reach them. You can hear the sounds of the wild Gulons chasing after them, You were only a few feet above them, you could easily hop off the terrain but the wild dogs were in the way. 

You noticed that Kratos was swinging his axe with one hand and holding Freyr with the other. Once Kratos slashed the last Gulon you’ll hop down. 

“Oh, hey up there!” Atreus called out your name, effectively letting everyone know that you were ,in fact, here and carrying the injured Aesir god on your back. 

“What are you doing with Heimdall?” Freya shouted as she shot an Einherjar in between its eyes, effectively putting down the reanimated corpse. You explained that Kratos spared him and that he was coming back with them. Only to hear a groan from Freyr.

The wild dogs were eventually cleared out of the way and you jumped off the ledge, almost breaking your ankles in the process but that would be a problem for later. You joined the group and were right behind Kratos.

“Well looky here! The famous Heimdall on the back of a ‘commoner’, who would’ve thought?” Freyr jokes after he glanced up at both you and the mentioned god.

“yet here you are, on the shoulders of a brute.” 

“The brute that kicked your ass. Ha!” 

“Then let’s see you challenge him, hm?”

“Can you two quit talking?” Freya asked, but it was more of a demand than anything else. You couldn’t help but agree. Atreus then pointed out the Archer Towers in which the boy’s father quickly disposed of them. Heimdall did a small eye roll at how quickly the action was taken.

Atreus eventually ran ahead of his father to take out the further Einherjar. 

“Hi! I’m Atreus, are you okay?” As the two weaved in between each other, Frey responded with a ‘Hi! No!’ 

“Hi Heimdall!” Atreus greeted as he struck a couple of Odin’s army with arrows. Heimdall couldn’t help but mutter under his breath and reply with a dry ‘Hello’ after you weakly elbowed him.  

“How much farther do we have?” You shouted before readjusting your hold on Heimdall’s legs, soon stomping on the head of an Einherjar and heard a sickening crunch. You heard Heimdall give a curt pat as a small ‘good’ 

“That’s what I’m asking!” Freyr quipped with a small laugh. You saw Kratos slam his body and crushed a wild Gulon into a tree and effectively murdered it. The blood stained the tree but there was no time to look further at it as you saw Hildisvini ahead.

Freya as her hawk form came flying by as vines wrapped around the surrounding trees. The dark elf known as Beyla came zipping past you and Kratos, her husband was nowhere to be found. 

“Watch your right!” Heimdall yelled in your ear as he directed his body mass to the left. He was trying to help you redirect yourself out of harm's way. You merely dodged the incoming tree thanks to the partner on your back. 

“Just a bit farther!” Freyr gleefully announced with a raised fist. He seemed the only one to be happy right now.

“Finally, we’re almost there.” Heimdall spoke only to you since you were the only one to hear him. You couldn’t help but agree with him. 

“Hang on just a little longer-” You say but unfortunately luck was not on your side. The extra trees Freya managed to knock down blocked your way, the first tree that slammed down in front of you was twice your size with just the width alone.

“Father!” Atreus then called out your name, catching the attention of the aforementioned god. Panic started to bubble up, your eyes frantically searching for another possible exit. The only way out seemed to run through the wild woods. 

“Go on without me! I’ll find another way!” You informed them with a raspy voice. The air pumping through your lungs made your throat dry, but that didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was getting out of this damn place alive. 

You turned your body so quickly you almost gave yourself whiplash. Sprinting through the trees as angry Einherjar follow so closely, their loud yells of speech and the arrows whipping past you and hitting into trees

The trees were blending together, the wildlife seemed the same. The once (somewhat) familiar area was now unknown as you ran in an unpredictable pattern. Your feet crushed anything that dared to be under it. Whether it be snapped twigs, tiny animals that you failed to avoid, or failed arrows that tried to impale you. 

One of the arrows managed to scathe your leg. Causing a gash to start bleeding as soon as it made contact with your skin. Another arrow made a nice slice into your other leg as well, nearly giving them matching marks. Now your legs were burning even worse from all the running and now the incoming scars. 

“Keep going! There’s a river up ahead!” Heimdall ordered in your ear. His legs wrapped tighter around your waist while you readjusted your grip on his legs. Getting him up higher so that your legs had more room to move. 

As you tried to hurry yourself forward like what Heimdall instructed, you felt a blast of Bifrost explode near your feet. You panicked and quickly swerved, fumbling your feet before you corrected yourself. Only to be shot at again and again. This time it was at your back and arm. 

You cursed to yourself while you tried to move unpredictably. The Bifrost blasts that had missed and hit the surrounding environment were actually proved in your favor when they slowed down the Einherjar with fallen trees and plants uprooting and causing a tripping hazard. 

At the end of the tree line you saw it, the river. You would have to jump the rushing, turgid currents and then you have to continue running until you found a safe haven or somewhere the undead army couldn’t get you and Heimdall.

“Watch out-!”

The previous plan was thrown out when at the river’s bank, your leg was suddenly in the blast of Bifrost, causing it to shake in an untrained way and make you fall forward. Falling into the water and not too long after you and Heimdall were trying to swim, Your arms climbed upward in the water before breaking through it and gasping for sweet, sweet air.

You soon found Heimdall gasping like you. Although with less buoyancy due to a missing body part. You managed to grab hold of him as the rushing river took you down faster than you realized.

What made the situation worse, was that there was a dip in the  water. It was a damn waterfall. As soon as you felt your body slip down you started to scream, your grip tightening on Heimdall as you fell to your inevitable death. 

__________________________

The first thing you felt was sand. 

Sand? 

You flexed your fingers along the sand, soon pushing your head up to see that you had washed up on a shore. The river was just at the edge of your feet, and your clothes were soaked beyond drying soon. You also happened to notice that the leg closest to the bifrost blast that caused this predicament was almost entirely exposed and very much damaged, you internally groaned at having to deal with this.

You picked yourself up with a slight wobble in your legs, your legs felt like bloody, poorly, bundled twigs as you took your first steps. You felt alarmed as Heimdall was nowhere to be seen. You started calling out his name before deciding to look around.

Based on the setting, you were still in Vanaheim and luckily weren’t kidnapped and/or murdered by the Einherjar. You were just fortunate that you didn’t drown in the initial waters. As you ventured, you soon heard a groan. 

You soon hustled to see who it was, avoiding some of the random items that float onto shore. Weapons, shields, parts of barrels, and body parts. Carefully avoiding the dismembered parts and debris, you managed to get to your person.

Heimdall face down into the sand just like you were and a small blood pool under his ‘arm’. Hustling over to him you help him up. 

“Do you happen to know where we are?” Heimdall asked with a cough, previously covering his mouth. 

“I have no clue, I was hoping you had an idea.” You admit. You slipped your hand around his and gripped. You felt a grip back, and it gave you a little smile on your face.

“But first, I think we need to stop your bleeding.” You mentioned, you can see a small scowl on Heimdall’s face before continuing to follow you. 

“I can heal it with Bifrost. Don’t insist on collecting miniscule plants to help me.” 

“Then how come it hasn’t stopped bleeding yet?” You ask curiously, you didn’t want to sound sarcastic but some of that unwanted tone slipped out. 

“Because it requires my full attention and concentration.” You released an audible ‘oh’ at the very simple explanation, Heimdall only rolled his eyes in what you hoped was a playful way. 

“How come your bleeding hasn’t?” Heimdall sarcastically countered. You had almost forgotten about it, if it weren’t for the pain every time you stepped. 

“I don’t have any bifrost powers like you do, nor do I have anything on hand to heal myself.” Heimdall was uncharacteristically quiet after that.

You sighed before trying to think of something. How were you possibly going to reach Freyr’s camp? 

It was at least multiple days of walking, and that was without break. Maybe there was a sign of Freyr’s camp somewhere? Some old structures to help you have an idea of where you were. 

Freyr’s camp was in the direction the sun set. The sun was already setting and traveling at night was not the best idea. So the best idea was to set up your own, albeit small, camp. First thing you did was gather stones, placing them in a circular pattern. 

You had set the stones on a dry, grassy patch just shy of the beach. It would be better instead of sitting on the grainy sand. 

Then you ventured towards the nearby woods, Heimdall didn’t seem to mind as he observed more of his surroundings, copying what you did previously. 

The woods were packed. Thick trees every couple feet apart from each other, the wild flora captivating your eyes while you collected specific plants and organisms for your injuries and small pieces of wood for a fire. Although one flower caught your eye. 

A bright purple one with glowing spores. It was much like the bright red ones you have seen exploring Vanaheim but this was so clearly different. It called out to you. You figured it could be a decent gift for Heimdall to maybe brighten his mood. 

Pulling your knife out, you quickly snipped the flower’s stem. You had dropped the bundle of wood in your arms just for it, and having no other place to put it, you slid it comfortably behind your ear before returning to the camp. 

“There you are, I was starting to worry you got eaten by something.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the assumption, it was possibly one of the more funnier things Heimdall has said to you. 

“I wouldn’t die that easily, or at least I hope so.” Your hands worked in order to prepare the fire. You searched yourself for anything to make starting a fire easier, but with no luck, you decided to start hand drilling.

It took a while and your hands were sore but there was fire going and you and Heimdall were warm. 

“What is that behind your ear?” Heimdall’s voice curiously asked. The question reminded you of the original intent. Sitting somewhat next to each other, you sat while you nervously prepared yourself.

“Oh!” You removed the flower before gesturing for him to take it. “It’s for you, it reminded me of you anyway so I thought-” You stammered your way through the conversation, flirting with the infamous golden god was extremely harder than you thought. 

Instead of flat out rejecting you like you kind of expected, he gently took it from you. He quietly observed the pretty petals you gazed upon earlier. The pistil still glowed brightly as it did before. You were still glad the flower looked as pretty as it did earlier. 

Heimdall slowly rolled the stem in between his fingers, looking at the pretty plant plainly with what seemed to be little care. 

“So you thought to give me a mutated flower?” He inquired, and your heart had immediately dropped. Of course he wouldn’t like the flower, of course he’d think it was a weak attempt to flirt with him. Of course-

“It’s a beautiful gift, thank you.” His tone was tender and it made your tender heart stutter. Soon silence comfortably blanketed over the two of you. The environment provides a comfortable background echo throughout the spot from the crackling fire to the sound of calm waters. 

You couldn’t help but stare at Heimdall’s once-arm, (the god had his eyes closed so he could probably still read your thoughts but you hadn’t remembered that) the mostly reddened stump with only the top of his tricep and upwards remaining. 

You wanted to so desperately help the healing process. You also noticed the long cut on his cheek, he was just a mess in general. 

His hair was also not in his preferred style, some strands coming loose while some braids remained surprisingly. His hair was still beautiful, and the flower behind his ear accentuated that fact. You can’t just linger around while Heimdall had to slowly recover. It didn’t feel right. 

“Heimdall, please, let me help you.”

Heimdall had broken his concentration to look at you, he was silent until he shook his head. “I told you that you do not need to help, I can heal it on my own-”

“But wouldn’t it heal faster if I added a remedy or two in it?” Quickly interrupting the god, Heimdall sighed

“It would but it wouldn’t be necessary, and no, just because you have the means doesn’t mean you can” 

“Heimdall, let me help please, it's only fair after you saved me from getting crushed and blown up by Bifrost!” 

Heimdall could only rub his eyes with his hand before replying a meager ‘Fine’, You got up as quickly as you could without hurting yourself to find something that could resemble a bowl. It didn’t take long before you found something.

An Einherjar helmet, the eye holes were fortunately before the helmet formed instead of just being holes in the strong metal. You washed it in the shore’s bank thoroughly before returning to Heimdall. 

Sitting cross-legged, you start mixing flora such as Lamb’s Cress and Red root. Mixing it with two of your fingers so that you could carefully apply it, you wouldn’t want to miss a spot. So the helmet glowed on the inside, a bright yellow one to be exact.

“I’m going to lift your sleeve, you ready?” With a quick nod, you lifted his posh sleeve and quickly got to work. Slathering the medicine on the trauma, you could hear Heimdall hissing and groaning and trying not to move in place, you definitely knew how awful it was. 

It was over before both of you knew it. You slipped his sleeve back down and set the Einherjar helmet down, “Now you can concentrate on using Bifrost.” You smile before moving yourself further so you could have room.

Heimdall only rolled his eyes and reciprocated the smile. 

You soon pulled your pant legs high up to tend to your wounds. Heimdall was quietly watching as you analyzed your injuries. 

The first thing you noticed was the Bifrost burn on your mid calf and downwards. The flesh there was stingy and hurt to touch or even look at. It spanned out in sharp points and then round points, it still bled every time you flexed your leg as well. The cuts you had gotten from the arrows were deep, they tore the skin there with ease.

Maybe you could borrow some of the Aesir arrows sometime, they were mighty harmful. The gashes were still relatively okay, you wouldn’t be getting an infection anytime soon. 

You released an annoyed sigh as you prepared the ingredients to help mend the burn. Adding more of Lamb’s Cress and Red root to the concoction. “I could hold the helmet for you if it would make this,” He nonchalantly gestured to your burn ”easier.”

 

You thanked him by handing him said helmet. The golden god merely held it as you worked your ‘magic’. Gracefully dumping some of the product on your wounds, wanting to jump away from it while you applied it with either a hiss or curse. 

As soon as you were done with the helmet, you threw it far. Or at least as far as you could from your position. Finally, you could rest without worrying about anything right now. Worrying was for tomorrow. Laying down on your back you started to relax.

The sun had set and night could be fully seen. The stars above twinkled like they never have before, maybe you should come to Vanaheim more often. The fire crackled every few seconds just to add onto the effect and you loved it, despite the situation you could still see the beauty in it.  

The sound of shuffling and you found that a new weight was on your right. The watchman of the Aesir had lain beside you. You could feel his fingers ghosting yours as if he wanted to hold your hand. You decided to take the initiative and interlock fingers with him.

“Any particular reason why you decided to lay with me?” You ask, tilting your head to look at Heimdall. The Aesir man only turned to you, stared you in the eyes, then turned his back to staring upwards.

 

“I like your company, that is all.” 

The response made your heart grow warmer, so you weren’t all too bad in his eyes. (Ignoring the fact you saved his life of course) You whispered a goodnight to him before shutting your eyes, you hadn’t realized how heavy they felt until you’ve closed.

The last thing you remember was Heimdall gently squeezing your hand before you drifted asleep. 

[softgreengrass]

Gone Bad

Natasha Romanoff x reader

Summary: You're a SHIELD agent on a mission gone bad.

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: blood, getting shot, f!reader

Author's Note: hurt/comfort ig? FLUFF. soft natasha :)

You weren’t sure where exactly you went wrong. You had gotten the mission assignment from Fury, done the required research, made sure you were properly trained, and left quickly. Everything had been going exactly to plan — you snuck in through the roof, incapacitated a few guards, and maneuvered to the underground vault that held the top-secret computer chips you were after. The security system was easy to freeze. The vault was easy to crack.

Only, at some point during your exit, you made a mistake. It could’ve been anything: tripping a sensor, or leaving a guard slightly conscious, or, hell, you could’ve taken a wrong turn and walked right in front of a camera. It didn’t matter. The point was, you had fucked up, and now you were getting shot at.

In the midst of the panic and rush, all that was on your mind was how disappointed Fury would be. This was only your fourth solo mission, and sure, the first three had gone off without a hitch, but agents weren’t supposed to make mistakes. If you managed to worm your way out of this with the chips—and that was a big if—would he even trust you to go on another solo? It didn’t seem likely. This operation was supposed to be a secret, it was supposed to happen completely under the enemies’ noses, but that was all hopeless now. They knew that SHIELD was after them. Shit, they knew that SHIELD was after them.

In all of your spiraling, you didn’t notice the hostile sneaking up behind you and cocking a gun. What you did notice, however, was the sharp, burning pain in the center of your stomach. The agony and blood quickly blooming across your torso. The terror that instantly compounded into a heavy sludge in your gut.

In an instant, fear snapped into focus, and you swiftly knocked the man out and found your way to an exit.

There wasn’t a moment for you to catch your breath as you straddled your motorcycle and peeled down the road, away from the facility. You ducked and cranked the throttle when bullets whizzed past you.

Embarrassingly, the thought of having to explain to Fury how you fucked up brought tears to your eyes, so you made a split-second decision. You haphazardly swung right at the next intersection, ignoring the honks and shouts that followed you. You sped away from SHIELD headquarters and gritted your teeth.

Maybe it was the blood loss, or the fact that you were numb with adrenaline and panic, but you were headed towards a place you had only been a few times — strictly on invitation. But it was the only place you could think of that would take you in if you showed up verging on death.

“If she’s not here,” you wheezed to yourself, stepping off of your bike and limping through the dark parking garage. “I’ll just check her other place. Yeah. I’ll check the other place.”

No matter how many times you repeated that to yourself, by the time you had dragged yourself to her door, you knew you had no chance of getting anywhere else. You were already dangerously lightheaded, swaying with every knock you landed.

At some point you collapsed against it. You didn’t want to believe that she wasn’t home. You couldn’t.

Your name, foggy and distorted, pulled you from comfortable darkness. Hands shook your shoulders, and someone called your name again.

Natasha’s face blurred into focus. There was a crease between her eyebrows. “What happened?”

The day came flooding back, and with it, the pain. “Mission,” you breathed weakly.

The corners of her mouth quirked up, her eyes brightening. “Mission?”

“Didn’t really go well,” you finished, glancing down at your shirt. It was soaked through with blood.

Natasha’s gaze followed yours, and a heavy sigh escaped her lips. “Why didn’t you go back to SHIELD?”

You swallowed.

After a moment of thick silence, she stood up from her crouched position and grabbed your hands, pulling you to your feet with ease. Your vision immediately went black and you slumped against her.

“Okay,” she mumbled, trying to quiet the fear roaring inside of her. “Okay, let’s get you inside.”

When you came to for a second time, it was nearly sunrise, and Natasha sat beside you on the couch, watching a muted hockey game. Your shirt was off, leaving you in a sports bra, and your stomach was wrapped in clean white gauze. When you shifted, her attention immediately snapped to you.

“Morning,” she said quietly, her expression an amalgamation of amusement and concern.

You forced a small smile. In truth, your head was pounding like it never had before.

As if she read your mind, she reached over to the coffee table and grabbed the painkillers and glass of water sitting, ready. She offered them to you gently.

When you had chugged the entire glass, sighed dramatically, and leaned back, she spoke.

“So are you going to tell me why I came home and found you bleeding out at my door at midnight?”

You didn’t want to, but then again you had no choice. “Got shot,” you grunted.

“Yeah, I noticed that,” she bit. “Why?”

“Mission went wrong.” You screwed your eyes shut, willing the pain away.

“I’m gonna need more information than that.”

“Didn’t wanna go to SHIELD.”

She seemed to realize that her hard attitude wasn’t going to get her anywhere. She took a deep breath and looked at you — really looked at you. The dark circles under your eyes, the sunkenness of your cheeks, the slight shaking of your hunched shoulders. The bruises covering you. Her heart clenched.

“What happened?” she asked, this time softly. It caught you off guard.

“I-” your voice broke, and you closed your mouth before a sob could escape.

“Oh, baby,” she mumbled, pulling you into her arms, careful not to strain your wound. “It’s okay.”

You hid your face in her neck, holding back more tears. Her arms wrapped around you securely, holding you so tightly you didn’t think she’d ever let go. You didn’t want her to let go.

“It’s okay,” she repeated, kissing your hair.

“I messed up,” you whimpered. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I-”

“All that matters is that you’re okay,” Natasha said. “Understand? That’s all that matters.”

You couldn’t stop the hot tears from rolling down your cheeks. “But the mission…”

“The mission doesn’t matter.”

She sounded so sure of herself, you couldn’t even argue. Maybe she would talk to Fury for you. Maybe it would be okay.

White-hot guilt shot through you. Who were you to show up at her doorstep like this? To force her to care for you, and then expect her to save you from Fury’s wrath? Sure, you weren’t strangers, but this was asking too much. You shouldn’t have been making her worry. You shouldn’t have kept her up all night. You shouldn’t have gotten hurt in the first place — no. This was all your fault.

You wanted to act on your guilt, push her away and block her out, but your body wasn’t listening to your brain. Your hands refused to move, except to grip her shirt tighter. All you could manage to do was squeak out another apology. “I’m sorry.”

“Shhh,” she whispered, stroking your back. “It’s okay.”

You couldn’t help but break down sobbing. After a few minutes, Natasha reassuring you and whispering your name like a prayer, you found yourself taking a deep breath.

“I want to take you to headquarters,” she murmured into your hair.

Your breath caught in your throat.

“Just for the injuries,” she rushed to say, quick to continue rubbing your back. You sighed in relief. “It’s okay that a mission went bad. It happens to everyone.”

You shook your head against her. “No, this was, it didn’t go bad, I fucked it up.”

“That’s okay.”

“I shouldn’t have made a mistake,” you croaked, pulling away from her. Your hair stuck to your red, tear-streaked face, and she still placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. She still looked at you with nothing but care in her eyes.

“I don’t care that you made a mistake.”

Yet again, she’d caught you off guard. You couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

“What was the mission?” she asked quietly, slowly moving strands of hair out of your face.

“I had to recover these stupid computer chips,” you scoffed, looking down.

“What happened to the chips?”

You pulled them out of the pocket on your pant leg and tossed them onto the coffee table. Natasha’s eyebrows flew up.

“So you didn’t mess up. You completed the mission.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “They weren’t supposed to know I was there.”

“So what?” she laughed, genuinely laughed, and you looked up. “You still won.”

Oh. Maybe it wasn’t such a big deal after all.

Her eyes softened and she brushed more hair off of your face before kissing your forehead again. “You did good.”

That sent you into another crying fit, but Natasha didn’t mind. She would happily spend the rest of her life drying your tears. She held you close to her chest, lightly scratching the base of your scalp.

You couldn’t believe how soft she was. Soft, and cozy, and you never wanted to leave her arms.

[lina-linny]

summary: One day you meet Yunho in the café where you work and as something develops between you, you wonder if he will still love you if he knows you have a little daughter.

words: 4k

genre: fluff, angst, non idol au

I hastily tied my apron around my hips, grabbed my notepad and hurried behind the counter.

A smile immediately played around my lips as I greeted the first customer. My shift at the café had just started.

The café where I worked was small and inconspicuous. It was in the corner of a small and crowded street and, despite its small size, was always packed with people.

I had lost a little piece of my heart to this place, and to the people who made up this place. I loved smiling at customers when they entered the café or having a regular's order ready before they could even order because I could read what they wanted on their faces. I loved the packed bookshelves, the food and my little daughter when she played with the cats in the café looking like the little angel she was. I also loved a certain person who always sat in a certain spot in front of the window that had always been empty before.

I smiled as this person waved excitedly at me. Just a few months ago, I would never have believed that such sunshine would ever reach my heart or the café.

~☆~

A few months earlier:

I was finishing the order for Mrs. Lee, an older lady who always smiled kindly at me and usally tipped more as appropriate, when he entered the café.

The man was in his mid-20s, with a friendly face hidden under a mask and brown hair covered by a cap. His clothes were neat, simple and black to gray, while everyone else in the café looked colorful and thrown together. He looked like he was from another world, he didn't belong here. Everything in this café was jumbled and thrown together, but he was neat and orderly.

He took a seat at the table in front of the window and stood out among the grandmas playing cards and the small children stroking a cat as much as a rose among daisies.

After bringing Mrs. Lee her muffin with a cup of tea, I walked towards his table. When I stopped in front of him, he looked straight into my eyes and smiled. My heart beat faster against my chest and I had to pull myself together to behave normally.

"Hey… ahm…. Would you like to order something?" I stuttered.

"An iced americano, please." He smiled at me and I nodded before disappearing behind the counter. My cheeks burned when I brought him the drink a little later. He grinned and did something that took me off guard.

"Hey, I'm Yunho by the way. I asked your colleague over there. She said your shift ends in five minutes. Would you mind sitting with me for a bit?"

My face burned and I thought about it for a moment, then I nodded. I looked down at the floor, a little embarrassed, but I could still see his excited glow.

"Well, then I'll see you soon." He said happily and I stumbled away a little confused.

He was right. My shift was over now and I took off my apron and leaned against the wall in the warehouse for a moment.

"Calm down yn." I commanded myself. It wasn't even his good looks that made me so nervous. It was his charisma, this excited, almost childlike and his radiant smile. I took a deep breath and then went to him and sat down at the table opposite to him.

When I went to bed that day, I fell asleep with a smile on my face. We had talked and laughed until my colleague had to kick us out because the café had to close. He made me laugh more than anyone ever had and yet I felt like I could talk to him about the deepest secrets of my heart.

He had insisted on taking me home and gave me a gentle kiss on the forehead to say goodbye. The whole thing was an incredible cliché and yet I left him as a blushing mess.

That was the first time this sunshine entered my heart. He knocked gently and crept further and further in until it felt as if he had always been there.

~☆~

And so the months passed. Yunho came to my little café every day. Almost every day I stayed and we talked together. When I was with him, I was physically unable to be sad. I had never laughed so much in my life. I had learned that Yunho would do anything to make me laugh, to make my day light up at least for a moment.

He made my whole day at the café brighter with our little conversations, his laughter echoing through the room when I said something funny and the little touches we shared throughout the day. A long hug to say hello and goodbye, how he would take my smaller and petite hand in his big one and not let go until I had to leave and how sometimes he would just come up behind me while I was leaning against the counter and hug me from behind.

I smiled. I spent every spare minute at his table, after my shift we often went for walks together or out to eat in restaurants and even when we were already home we texted late into the night.

I was happier than I had ever been in my life and didn't realize how I was losing my heart more and more to this good-natured boy. How I fell more and more, or maybe I did notice it but acted selfishly and allowed my soul to merge more and more with his.

We spent more and more time together after work. We went for walks and resaurants. Deep down, I was aware that we were dating, that we were heading more and more towards a relationship and yet I let it happen. Even though I was worried about my daughter, I suppressed it deep in my thoughts.

And so it finally came to the inevitable situation. Like so many evenings before, we sat on a bench by the river and talked. I held the flowers that Yunho had given me in my hand and pulled my knees to my chest. Yunho rested his head on my shoulder and wrapped an arm around me.

"I have something for you." Yunho murmured, suddenly getting all excited and happy. He broke away from me to rummage in his pocket. He made a cute noise when he finally found what he was looking for and pulled a small box out of his pocket. Excitedly, he placed the box in my hand. I opened it with a smile and my breath caught a little when I saw the contents.

It was a small ring. But not just any ring. It was the counterpart to the gold ring that Yunho wore every day.

"My grandma gave me the two rings once. She told me to keep the second ring and give it to the person I give my heart to. That way, everyone knows that I belong to you and you belong to me." He smiled at me and I couldn't help but look at him, overwhelmed.

I've always been bad at showing others how grateful I was for gifts and stuff like this. How did I show others that it meant so much to me that they had given me this gift? But this time the solution seemed incredibly simple.

I leaned forward and stopped just before our lips touched. Yunho closed the gap between the two of us and I smiled into the kiss. I had to hold on to him because I could literally feel the love sparking back and forth between us. It pulsed between us like a ticking time bomb that would soon blow up.

It scared me and yet I didn't do the slightest thing to stop it. Our souls were one. Two long-lost parts that had found each other again and would always find each other again, through time and space. They could not be separated. They were meant for each other. Destined to perform a tender dance with their lips, to move in unison to a music of heartbeats.

We loved each other and I knew that I wouldn't be able to keep this love with me. He would leave, like everyone before him. Because I was not alone. Because I had a daughter. The bomb would explode sooner or later and blow our hearts to smithereens

~☆~

"What do you mean the kindergarten is closed?" I moaned into the phone. Normally Hannah, my little girl, was at kindergarten until the afternoon. However, I usually worked until then, so my mother looked after my little angel until I got off work.

But then the kindergarten director called me and told me that the kindergarten was closed today due to a flu epidemic and my mother was away today.

I sighed and called my boss's number. Maybe I could take Hannah to work with me. She's always been a quiet child and wouldn't cause any trouble. My boss assured me that it was no problem for me to bring Hannah with me, so I woke up my little angel and told her that she was going to the café with me today.

She was incredibly happy and put on her blue fairy wings and her favorite dress to celebrate the day. I gave her a kiss on the forehead, whereupon she giggled and promised to be very quiet for me while I worked in the café.

I packed her favorite picture books and toys in my bag to keep her occupied and grabbed my little princess to walk with her to the café.

Out of a selfish thought, I hoped that Yunho wouldn't come to the café today. Because by now I had admitted to myself how I felt about him and I didn't want this thing between us to end. Because it would end as soon as he realized that I had a child.

No man in his early 20s wanted to date a woman who already had a child. Everyone wanted their own child or saw the child as a disruption or obstacle and Hannah wasn't a disruption. She deserved all my love and more. I would always choose my daughter over romantic affairs or anything like that. I didn't get my hopes up anymore, even if I loved Yunho, I would end it.

No matter what there was between us. It would end because it had no future anyway. No one had "taken" me and Hannah together, none of the guys I had dated wanted me with a child. And no matter how good-natured Yunho was, I couldn't imagine him doing it. He was young. He had choices. Why would he take me when he could have anyone else without a child or "complications"? I was so sure he would see Hannah as a problem just like the others and was ready to push him away because of it. I would go through any heartbreak to spare my daughter the feeling of constant rejection. My daughter comes first always.

We arrived at the café and Hannah obviously sensed that I wasn't feeling well, so she hugged me as best she could from her height. I hugged her back. Then I disengaged and unlocked the café.

~☆~

That's when he entered the door like every day. Yunho beamed at me, but I couldn't bring myself to smile back.

My heart would break today. He held it in his hand and handled it with care like no one had ever done before. He stroked and caressed it with his loving touch and this time it wasn't my lover who scratched the scratches in my heart and squeezed it until it burst and he could enjoy the shards. It was me. I was the monster who let my own heart shatter piece by piece. Because I didn't know any different.

I had been avoiding going to Yunho's table and taking his order for five minutes. But now I pulled myself together. Yunho waited patiently for me and smiled.

"Hey!" he beamed.

"hi…" I looked down at the floor and tried to be as dismissive as possible.

"Do you want to sit with me?"

"No… There's too much going on. I have to stay at the counter." I said quietly. We both knew it was an excuse. Apart from Yunho, there was only Mrs. Lee and her friends in the café, who were meeting up to play go today.

Yunho looked at me in confusion. I remained silent and looked at the floor until I felt someone tugging at my trouser leg. I looked at my little angel Hannah. She was holding out a picture she had drawn with her pencils and a pretty little bunch of flowers consisting of daisies and some grass. She must have just picked the flowers in the meadow outside the café.

"For you mommy! You looked so sad today. I want you to smile again. That's why I picked you flowers and painted us both with dad." Said the little girl.

Hannah didn't know that her father had left me when she was two months old because he didn't want to have a child yet. I had told her that her father no longer loved me and that was why I had left. I didn't want her to grow up thinking that her father didn't want her.

Hannah had said to me one day that she didn't have a father and so she had decided that someone would be her father one day. She herself would choose who deserved to be her dad and because she wanted a dad, her teddy bear would stand in as her dad until she found a better one. In her little drawing, a stick figure version of me was standing hand in hand with Hannah and the teddy bear was sitting next to us.

But to Yunho it must have looked like I was still with Hannah's "dad" and had a daughter with him. A normal family with a daughter. Whose mother he had flirted with until yesterday and she had flirted with him too.

I looked at Yunho, in whose eyes I saw exactly what I had feared. I had to look away, I could no longer see that hurt expression on his face. Maybe it was for the best. If he thought I was married or at least had a husband, then perhaps he would be able to let go more easily than if I "dumped" him without explanation. I love you. I love you. I love you! I screamed inwardly as I said

"I can't see you anymore." I couldn't look at him without bursting into tears so I turned away without another word, taking Hannah in my arms, who looked back and forth between me and Yunho in confusion.

If I looked back, I would see Yunho with silent tears streaming down his cheeks. He sniffled and hastily packed up his things to rush out of the café.

If he turned around, he would see me hugging my little Hannah and looking at my broken heart. My soul ached as I cried like I had never cried before. No one had ever broken my heart like I had just now.

~☆~

one week later

Yunho 18:32: "Hey can we talk. I know you didn't want to meet me anymore and I'm sure your husband won't be happy about it either, but I need to talk to you one last time. Please meet me at the café at 7pm."

I had been staring at this message for ages. My heart was pulsing. It wanted him. Maybe I should explain everything to him. Like I actually wanted to do. Maybe he would love me anyway.

I shook my head. I couldn't leave. Hannah would be home alone otherwise and my little princess was still scared of being home alone. But my heart cried out for him. I owed it to him. I was responsible for my own pain. I had inflicted it on myself. But he couldn't help it. At least he deserved the truth.

Y/n 6:43 pm: Can you come to my house? I can't leave my daughter alone."

I didn't get a reply to my message, but at 7 p.m. the doorbell rang. I got up from the sofa, but Hannah was quicker. She opened the door and looked up at Yunho. She giggled

"You're so huge." Yunho gave a pained smile.

"Hannah can you please go to your room. I need to talk to Yunho ok?" Hannah nodded and hopped into her room. Then I turned to Yunho. He looked almost as horrible as I did and it was my fault. I hated myself for taking the light from the sun. All joy had disappeared from his face.

"Come on in. I think we should sit down." I whispered. He just nodded and I led him to our dining table. We sat down opposite each other and I looked sheepishly at the tabletop.

"Isn't your husband home?" Yunho asked quietly.

"I don't have a husband." I sighed. I would tell him everything and not because I hoped to get something out of it. But because he deserved to know the truth.

"Hannah's father left us when she was a few months old. I haven't had anyone since then… Hannah calls her teddy her dad. She always says that until she finds a new one, the teddy is her dad…. She drew a picture of us and the teddy in the café." We were both silent and, if I wasn't mistaken, I saw a spark of hope in Yunho's eyes.

"So… why did you say we couldn't meet anymore?" I sighed again and ran my hands over my face a little desperately.

"You know, whenever a guy starts dating me. He might want to date me, but as soon as he finds out I have a child, they disappear again. I'm 24 and have a 5-year-old child. Men my age want to start their own family. They want to father their own child. Or no family at all. All the men I've dated since then have either disappeared immediately or seen Hannah as a burden. But she's not. She's not a burden. She's my little angel and no matter who I'm with they have to treat her as well as she deserves… But the difference with you was that I never really loved any of those men. But you…. Yunho I love you… I'm terribly sorry that I hurt you. I'm not a very good mother, but I'm just trying to protect Hannah as best I can." Tears shimmered in my eyes.

Yunho had been listening to me carefully the whole time and now smiled sadly.

"If you let me into your life, if you give me a chance, I will promise you that I will love Hannah as much as I love you. I…"

I started to cry.

"I don't know if I deserve this." I sobbed and Yunho wrapped me in his arms. He shook his head slightly.

"Of course you deserve this. Please, … let me love you." I buried my face in the crook of his neck and nodded. We stayed like that for a few moments. Then he broke away from me. He looked deep into my eyes and slowly leaned forward towards me.

"Can… I kiss you?" Yunho asked and I nodded.

Slowly he leaned in further and our lips met and immediately we felt that familiar feeling again. We moved in unison and our souls melted together more and more. My skin burned and my lips throbbed. While Yunho kissed me tenderly and caressed my lips, I clung to his arm. Fearful that he would simply disappear again.

But he stayed. He stayed the whole evening. He picked up the pieces of our broken hearts and glued them together into one. My heart healed with every fleeting kiss he pressed to my lips in the weeks that followed, every time I watched Yunho playing with Hannah, watching them laugh.

My mother no longer had to pick Hannah up from kindergarten every day. Yunho did that. He picked up our princess and took her to the café with me. There they played, painted and laughed together. Whenever I had time, I sat down with them and we played together. When I was off, we went home together. We cooked together or had movie nights. We were a happy little family and, as always, Yunho kept his promise. He loved me and Hannah equally with all his heart.

*bonus*

1 year later:

How could I ever think that Yunho didn't belong here? His soul melted into this place. His childlike nature and good-naturedness enchanted me. He fitted in perfectly here. In my café, in my heart, in my little family. He laughed with my princess and I sank down at the table with them. The whole situation was so natural and yet at that moment I felt infinitely grateful for the man who had changed my life for the better.

"Mommy, can we go to the playground?" Hannah asked excitedly. The nearest playground was only 5 minutes away from the café.

"Honey, I still have to work."

"Please, please, can I go with dad then?" My eyes flicked to Yunho and we looked into each other's eyes for a moment. It was the first time she'd called him that, dad… It sounded right. Yunho was her dad. I smiled.

"Sure you can go." Hannah jumped up happily and started packing up her things. It didn't seem like a big deal to her, but Yunho looked like he was about to start crying. I wrapped him in my arms and we hugged briefly. Then Hannah came into our embrace and whispered

"Family hug!" Yunho laughed and gave our little princess a peck on the side.

Then we broke away from each other and Yunho took Hannah on his shoulders. The two of them left the café together, leaving me beaming with happiness. The sun shone straight into my heart, I let it happen and welcomed it.