#he’s SO loyal to a fault he NEEDS to be fucking near someone or he immediately looses it!! Imagine if he’s the one left alone at the end!!

[fantasykiri5]

Honestly I’m REALLY hoping Jimmy’s hunger games sim prediction for the life series is right again, as much as there are a load of player that it would be really cool to see win, if been hoping for a Joel win for AGES like since double life and especially last season so I REALLY hope it’s right again

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: You've been the Twins' handler for years now, and when Tangerine blows up at you one evening after a mission, he apologizes in an unconventional way.

Epilogue

Genre: SMUT (nsfm)

Warnings: implied fuck boy!Tangerine, bitchy!Tangerine in the beginning, reader is named Peach, unprotected sex, passionate sex, not much foreplay (they're desperate lmao), swearing, insecurities, praise kink, degradation, emotional, Tangerine is all over the place and bad with his feelings!

~ i'm so sorry i feel like this took forever <3 enjoy! @j23r23 ~

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

"He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not," you smile, your nails drumming on the desk as you pick at the petals of the roses in the jar near your computer. "Ah ha, he loves me. Knew you were so full of shit," you hum happily. 

"Piss off," Tangerine loudly grunts in your ear and you tilt your head, scrunching your nose. You've told him not to yell like that—you've warned him that the earpiece is sensitive and you'll lose your hearing if he continues like this—but he never listens.

Being the Twins handler for almost four years now you've learned how to deal with their quirks.

Lemon, as ruthless as he is, is too trusting. He's also loyal to a fault and he'd die for Tangerine in seconds; something you've had to account for in your missions so it doesn't happen. 

Tangerine on the other hand? Recklessness under the guise of control. He'd burn the entire world down for Lemon without hesitation, his temper as bright as the flames of a wildfire.

Unexplainably however, you were drawn to him the most.

While he pushes your buttons like no one else, you also tend to push him in ways that leave him wanting—no needing—more.

"Tan," you warn again, "don't talk so loudly, they'll hear you!"

"Stop your yapping in my ear then, luv," Tangerine snaps, his comment snarky and you hear a loud humph as it sounds like someone crashes into something.

Tangerine sounds out of breath and you use your mouse to click on the map on your computer. You zoom in and ask, "Where's Lem? You aren't supposed to meet any security for a while—"

"He's busy, darlin'. And your little shortcut turned out to be not so short after all," Tangerine says and you hear a loud grunt. It's obvious he's in the middle of a fight.

Your blood runs cold as you chew on your lip. Your hands quickly dance over the keyboard as you try and find another way for them—an easier way—

"Hey, Peach, will ya stop breathing so damn loudly, it's distracting me," Tangerine's voice interrupts your worry and you hold your breath when you hear a loud thwap and then a grunt—immediately accompanied by cursing and more hoarse shouts. 

"Tangerine!" his name spills from your lips as you hear louder blows. "Tan?" you whisper when the line disconnects and a low buzz is heard in your ear. You fumble to discard the earpiece onto the desk in front of you and then you focus on finding Lemon. 

If anyone can help Tangerine, it's Lemon.

With a frown, you activate the tracker you'd promised not to slip into Lemon's jacket, and a little red light blinks on your computer screen. He's not far from where Tangerine is. You lean over and connect to the microphone on your computer.

"Lemon?!" 

You hear a crack and then the shuffling of clothes against the microphone in the tracker. "Peach?" Lemon grunts, "Ya cheeky lil' bird, I told ya not to track me," he lets out a breathy laugh, and another smack is heard, "Fuck me, these fuckers just don't die easily!" 

"Lem? Where's Tan?" you ask, seeing that the tracker Tangerine wears voluntarily on his suit hasn't moved in a while. "Is he okay? I think the earpiece broke."

Something must have happened to his tracker too if it's malfunctioning.

"Yeah, which is why I say I should wear it—but he's bossy and he's your favorite," Lemon says. 

"I don't have favorites!" you insist, your cheeks burning.

"Sure, whatever," Lemon chuckles and then adds, "Ah, speaking of the devil—I can see 'im now. Damn, he's beat up ain't he. Bullocks. Y'know your little plan was shit, Peach, security swarmed us almost immediately!"  

You pinch your eyes and guilt settles in your stomach. "I know, I know, I'm sorry,"

You hear Tangerine's voice distantly as he grumbles, "Fuckin' arsehole broke my earpiece when he punched me—I lost contact with Peach," he complains and you hear shuffling. Your stomach fills with unwanted butterflies at the sound of his voice and how your codename rolls off his tongue. 

"She can hear ya," Lemon says, his smirk evident in his tone, "Say hello, Peach."

"She tracked ya?" 

"Yeah, and bugged me too apparently."

 "What the fuck, my tracker doesn't do that," Tangerine says and you hear an infliction in his voice. 

"Yeah, cauz you always have the earpiece."

"Because she likes me better,"

"That's what I said!!" 

"Oi, you wankers, I can still hear you," you interrupt, "Will you just come back to the van now? The mission's a bust," you finish. While they continue to bicker for a moment, Lemon finally shuts down the tracker—by breaking it you assume—idiot—and it isn't until the van door slams open that you hear and see them again. 

"Oi, now you're takin' the piss," Tangerine exclaims, glaring at his brother as he runs a hand through his mussed hair. He enters the van and you stand. Your eyes scan over his appearance; his suit is torn and bloodied and he has a gaping cut on his forehead. His ear is also bleeding from when you assume the broken earpiece had shattered. 

"Christ," you whisper and walk over to him. Lemon smirks as he walks by the both of you and collapses onto the second chair near your desk. He's less beat up than Tangerine—who'd taken on more men you assume—but you remind yourself to check on him later anyway.

Tangerine senses you come up to him and he tenses when you hold his cheeks in your hands and check his wounds. "Tan, this looks bad," you say. 

"Peach, I'm fine," he grumbles and turns his head away. He sounds grumpier than usual.

"Look, I'm sorry—I'm sorry I messed up, I—"

Suddenly, Tangerine explodes. His hand comes up around his ears as he scrunches up his nose. "Will ya just stop talkin' for one fuckin' second?!" he yells and even Lemon, who had been a silent bystander to the conversation, looks up from where he's bandaging his hand. 

Your eyes widen and you blink at Tangerine. "W-what?"

He presses his index on his temple and narrows his eyes at you. "I have a fuckin' headache 'cause of you and you talkin' my fuckin' ear off all the damn time! And now I can barely hear because it's ringing so fuckin' hard!" he points to the blood inside his ear. 

You flinch at his tone and try to control the tears threatening to spill as he harshly berates you. 

"Right," is all you say, "sorry," your voice sounds small and you push by him and out to the front of the van to start the engine. 

* * * 

When you arrive outside their house—well, your house too since you've been living with them for the past three months—you don't talk to Tangerine. You don't even look at him.

Instead, without a word, you walk up to your room, tears still brimming, and slam the door behind you. 

Your stomach hurts and your nails dig into your palms as you run a shower. You desperately want to wash away any memory of what happened tonight. 

It isn't uncommon for you and Tangerine to fight—but he's never shouted like that and never in response to your worry.

Once you finish with your shower and walk out of the bathroom, just a towel wrapped around your body, you jump when you see Tangerine standing in the middle of your room.

He'd clearly freshened up too but, unlike yours, his hair is freshly dried. You aren't surprised—you know he hates sleeping with it when it's wet. 

He's wearing a casual pair of beige slacks and a white T-shirt. The fabric strains against the muscles in his arms as he crosses them across his chest and you look up, feeling a burn in your cheeks.

Tangerine's ear has been bandaged and his cuts and bruises look kindly tended to. Lemon, you assume, he's always been soft on his brother even when he's acting like a jerk. 

Tangerine is staring at you intensely, his blue eyes shining a shade darker than usual. 

"Shit, stop being creepy," you grumble, holding your towel tightly around yourself. "Have you come to say you're sorry for acting like a prick or just stare a hole into my head?"

Tangerine's eyes narrow and he shakes his head. He stalks closer to you, pink lips parted and his hands find your hair near your nape. He pulls you in, seemingly unbothered by the squeal you make or how you're unable to move your hands to push him away. 

Not that you'd want to push him away anyway.

"The fuck you think you're doing?" you hiss, staring at him, "have you gone mad?"

Tangerine just continues to stare into your soul. "You're so damn annoying," he mutters.  

"I'll scream and Lemon will come and beat the shit out of you," you threaten, challenging him. You know Lemon would never do such a thing and you'd be a fool to scream. 

"But, fuck me, I like you so damn much," he finishes his sentence, and then his lips find yours. His hand tightens in your hair as he kisses you. There's no tenderness in his kiss, no hesitation or remorse, just pure passion as he wraps his arms around you and holds your back as he pulls your chest to his. 

You clutch the towel, making sure it feels secure, and kiss him back. You make a small sound behind his lips but you can't deny the heat in the kiss or how badly your stomach tightens just right. The steam coming from your bathroom is taunting as it surrounds you; sticky and warm. 

"Tan," you mumble as his hand comes around your jaw and he turns your head to kiss your neck. 

"Shut up," he growls, "you talk too damn much." He squeezes his eyes shut and the words fall easily from his lips as they press to your skin.

"God, you don't understand how hard it is for me; hearing your sweet voice in my ear while I'm trying not to get fuckin' stabbed or shot to death! You don't know what you do to me, darlin'. You have no fuckin' clue. It's fuckin' torture," he says as his hand tightens in your hair and you whimper.

"Tan, m-my towel," you tell him, struggling to hold it up as his body presses against yours.

This makes Tangerine snap out of whatever trance he's in for a moment and he looks down at you. His eyes have softened just a little and his tone is sultry when he asks, "Let it fall. I don't care. Do you?" His lips quirk up. "I've dreamt of you naked a thousand times, luv."

Your eyes round at the intensity of his words. You want to tell him to fuck off—that you've never thought of him like this. Never imagined his lips on yours or the way he'd feel inside you. But then you'd be a liar, and you aren't a liar. 

Instead, you drop the towel, your eyes still intensely locked onto his. The cold air sends a shiver up your spine and Tangerine's hands find the skin on your back instead of the towel. His eyes haven't left yours and he looks surprised that you'd done it. He hasn't looked down and his cheeks have turned a dusty pink. 

"What?" you move your hands up to his cheeks and hold them, "you said you'd dreamt of this. Well?" With as much confidence as you can muster, tilt his head to your naked body. You can feel your hands tremble against his cheeks, all kinds of insecurities and uncertainties bubbling inside you and just as you're going to pull away from sheer embarrassment, Tangerine speaks; 

"Fuckin' hell, you look so much better than in my imagination," his hands slide up the curves of your hips and breasts. His touch is surprisingly gentle for how passionate he'd been in the beginning.

You watch as his eyes roam around your body and he runs a hand over his jaw, staring at you with pure admiration. "You belong in a fuckin' museum," he whispers behind his hand. 

"Alright, lover boy," you roll your eyes and shift to move away but his hands find your hips and he hoists you up into his arms. You gasp, your arms finding his shoulders and your legs cling to his waist as your wet hair sprinkles water over his face. It's a weird position to be in considering you're naked.

"Tangerine!" you cry as he carries you over to your bed and you squeal when he drops you and hovers over you. 

"Let me worship you, darlin'," he whispers as his knee slides in between your legs and he kisses your lips again. He disconnects them and looks at you seriously, "Please," he pleads and your eyes widen.

Tangerine never says please.

You find yourself nodding, too lost in the haze of it all to hear the small voice in your head screaming how stupid this is.

He'll throw you away after. He doesn't care. He'll hurt you. He'll break your heart! 

You kiss him again, his lips moving against yours rhythmically. You're so lost in pleasure that when he sits up on his heels to strip his shirt, you whine and grasp at his arms. "Shhh, I'm here, dove," he chuckles, enjoying the power he has over you. When he leans over you to kiss you again, this time your hands find his abs and you can't help but explore them. 

"You countin' them, luv?" he chuckles after a moment and his lips find your nipples as he squeezes one of your breasts in his hands. You make an embarrassed sound that quickly turns into a moan when he positions your hips just right so the fabric of his slacks hits your clit. 

"I know, I know," Tangerine teases as he senses how needy you're becoming. "Shit, you're just a little slut, aren't ya, luv? Knew you'd wear those dresses to tempt me—didn't ya?"

You nod. You had. You didn't think it worked—he always played it so cool.

"You should know I would wank one out after seeing you—your thighs so visible and," he pauses and uses his hands to spread you open until he sees what he wants, "and that pretty pussy. So fuckin' pretty—

—you let me have a peek sometimes didn't you, naughty girl? Knew you did it on purpose," Tangerine says. He sounds satisfied with himself that he'd found you out and his grin widens when you nod. 

"Just for you," you whisper, looking up at him with hooded eyes. "Please, Tan," you whine, you're already so wet for him. 

"What do you want, hm? Tell me," he smirks and dips his head down to kiss your neck as his hands wander around your skin. He sits back up and removes his slacks and boxers. Your eyes downturn on his cock and you bite your lip. God, is he really this beautiful everywhere? How fucking unfair. 

Tangerine's hand comes up to your chin, "Where do you want me?" 

You look into his eyes, unsure how to ask him for what you want. Tangerine smiles, his thumb touching your lip. He's gentle, his eyes softer now, "Peach," he leans in and kisses just behind your ear. You shiver. "It's okay. Tell me where you want me," he smiles against your skin. 

"Inside me," you say, your voice small

Tangerine hums and tucks some of your hair behind your ear, "Where inside you, luv? I want to hear you say it for me."

You feel your cheeks warm and you stare up at him. "In my pussy," you say and Tangerine's eyes light up and he smirks.

"My pleasure," he says and shifts his hips until you feel his cock press against your pussy. He feels you tense as your hands tighten around his shoulder.

"Hey, it's just me," he says, pushing in slower now. He looks concerned as one of his hands finds your hair and pushes the strands away from your eyes.

Yeah, that's the issue, you want to tell him but you just nod, squeezing your eyes shut. 

"Look at me," he says as he pushes inside you fully. You gasp, arching into him and your breathing becomes harsh. He's so thick and long. Tangerine doesn't move and you let out a whine, your eyelids fluttering. "I said, look at me. I won't move until you look at me, darlin'," he whispers sternly. 

When you finally look at him he smiles, "Do you trust me? I'm not gonna hurt you—promise." 

You nod, biting your lip. Of course, you trust him. "I trust you," you answer breathlessly. 

"Good girl," Tangerine praises and kisses your forehead. He starts to move his hips, pulling in and out of you with torturous strokes. He feels so good.

As he fucks you, he leans his forehead on yours, occasionally whispering praises into your ear as he tells you how pretty you look with him buried inside you. 

"So fuckin' pretty with my cock inside your pussy, hmm," he grunts, continuing the pounding of his hips. "You close, luv? Already?" He teases you with a smirk and kisses your lips. You let out small moans, skin warm and sticky as you nod. 

"Good," he smiles and uses his thumb to rub your clit, adding pressure as he fucks into you. "So good for me. All for me, hmm?" 

"Y-yes," you groan, squeezing your eyes shut. 

"Open your eyes, Peach," he demands and you do so instantly. "I want to look into your eyes when you come apart around me."

With that, the tension breaks inside you. Your body feels weak from the pleasure and your chest rises and falls rapidly once your high finishes. You let yourself relax into the mattress for a moment, ignoring the sudden stream of thoughts—good and bad—that race into your mind. Tangerine's lips touch your forehead again and then he pulls out, finishing on your stomach with a grunt. 

You blink, feeling the bed dip and then his warmth disappears. You panic a little but you're too weak to move. If he wants to leave, let him, you convince yourself as you stare at the ceiling. However, when you feel something cold and wet across your stomach, you flinch and scramble to sit up. 

Your eyes are wide and Tangerine pauses, removing the washcloth from your skin. He frowns a little, "Hey, what's wrong?" he asks softly. You stare at him. He's still shirtless but he's pulled up his trousers.

"You aren't leaving?" you ask, looking around the room and you suddenly feel very bare. 

Tangerine's frown deepens but he doesn't speak for a moment as he washes away his cum from your skin and, after discarding the washcloth, he reaches behind him to hand you his shirt. You accept it without thinking and put it on, wrapping your arms around yourself as you continue to stare at him. 

He shifts, sitting beside you with one leg off the bed. He still hasn't answered and you start to feel an impending pit in your stomach. 

"Why would I leave?" he asks calmly, his voice doesn't have a hint of concern in its tone. 

You fiddle nervously with the hem of his shirt, looking down. Your hair, now half-dried, is a mess from the pillows and you push it down and around your ears in an effort to compose yourself in front of him. "Well, I- I just assumed that you would—" 

Tangerine tilts his head. "You think I would fuck and ditch, did ya? Ya think so low of me, Peach?" It feels like he sounds almost amused.

You shake your head but your nerves don't stop. "I mean, what do you expect me to think, Tangerine?" you look into his eyes and continue, "You come in here, all pissed at me—you yelled at me earlier and made me feel all shitty about myself—and then out of nowhere you kiss me and then we—"

"Fuck." Tangerine finishes bluntly. 

You narrow your eyes at him. "Yeah, that," you let out a breath, "So, please, tell me. What am I supposed to think? What do you want from me now? Because I can't be one of your fuck toys, Tan. I refuse to be that girl. I- I care about you—" you feel your emotions get caught in your throat and you feel your eyes sting. Furiously, you wipe your eyes with your hands, refusing to cry in front of him. 

Tangerine hasn't said a word. He's looking at you but you can't read his expression. You hate it. You shut your eyes, ready to call it quits, and tell him to leave, but then you feel the bed dip again and you feel his hands cup your cheeks. Your eyes snap open.

"Don't cry," he whispers, his thumb sliding under your eyes and catching your tears, "Please, don't cry because of a stupid bastard like me," he cracks a smile, hoping you'll smile too but when you don't and he sighs, "Okay, I was a dick, a real fuckin' dick, and you didn't deserve any of that. I'm sorry." 

You nod, still listening to him, "You really were a dick," you whisper. 

Tangerine chuckles and nods too. "Yeah. I was," he pauses and moves his thumb across your cheeks as if admiring you some more, "Do ya really believe I'd fuck ya for this to be a one-time thing, luv? That I'd just throw ya away after?"

Your cheeks feel warm. "I- I don't know," 

"You do know. You think I would do that to ya," Tangerine says, his voice low. 

"I mean—that's what you do don't you? I've known you for years, Tan. All those girls—"

Tangerine suddenly laughs and his hands drop from your face. "Peach, you aren't those girls," he says, suddenly serious, "I wasn't just making it up when I said how hard it is for me to listen to you in my ear all the time. Not because you're annoying—which sometimes you are but that's beside the point—but because I haven't been able to stop thinking about you for years. You're all I goddamn think about. Do you understand how hard that is for me?"

You just frown, shaking your head a little. "No. This doesn't make sense. Why now—why not yesterday? Or months ago? Or years ago?"

 Tangerine runs a hand in his hair and lets out a breath. "Because I didn't want to but I snapped, I snapped, okay? I'm not fuckin' proud of it. I yelled at you and I felt so bad after I didn't know what to do with myself anymore—

—you're always there for Lem and me, and I realized, after that fuckin' earpiece broke, that I hated not having your pretty voice in my ear anymore. It felt like I'd lost you—do you have any idea how scared that made me feel, even when I knew it was irrational and that you were completely safe?" His words come out jumbled and strained. "I fuckin' hated it, I hated feeling like that so I snapped," he finishes. 

You stare at him, his words hitting you hard. You've never seen him like this and it scares you, but it also turns you on some more. Why does he have to be so fucking hot? "And I'm sorry. I am. I would never throw you away. I don't want to throw you away after this—especially after fucking you—that's the last thing I would want! I– I-" 

You stare at him some more, your eyes wide, "You what—?"

Tangerine pauses, "I love you," he says, articulating every word so you hear him clearly. 

"You love me?"

"Yes."

"As in love love?"

"Fuckin' hell Peach, ya want me to scream it at ya or somethin'? I'm in love with ya. I love ya more than anythin' I fuckin' have. You're my everything. I love you so damn much."

All your anger, doubt, and shame instantly vanished into thin air. He loves you. All this time he'd loved and he was just shit at expressing his emotions? You laugh, covering your mouth with your hand as happiness overwhelms you. 

"Are ya laughing at me?" Tangerine's voice cuts in the air and you focus on him. He looks surprised and hurt. 

Your smile falters and you shake your head. There is so much you want to tell him that you're at a loss for words. He looks so pretty like this, sitting in front of you, and your hands find his cheek instead of using words.

Your fingers skim the bandage that's still wrapped around his ear and you want to ask him if it still hurts. You want to ask him so many things. He's staring at you, chest heaving, and you don't think as you kiss him. 

It's softer than the previous passionate kiss you'd shared. Only, Tangerine reacts with as much eagerness as earlier. His hands find your back and he presses you against him, your lips sliding against yours. It's intense and lovely all in the same. 

"I love you too," you say quietly between kisses. 

"Say it louder," Tangerine suddenly hums, his eyes shut in pleasure. You think he needs you to talk louder because one of his ears is bandaged and hurt.

So, you do as he asks and it earns you another kiss, however when Tangerine mutters, "I wanna hear ya say it again," you know he heard you fine. His voice is so love sick you just grin and wrap your arms around him, your hands bunching in his curls.

"I love you, Tangerine," you say breathlessly, "I love you."

"You have no idea how happy ya just made ma, luv," he responds instantly, running his hand over your cheek as he looks into your eyes. "God, I'd die for ya," he mutters and you frown, slapping his arm a little. 

"Don't talk about you dying, you git," you reprimand, and Tangerine smirks. 

He kisses your neck and with a teasing tone he reassures you, "Ya have nothin' to worry about, luv. I'd much rather live for you. You have all of my heart, darlin'. It's all yours," he guides your hand to press your palm against his chest and you feel how quickly his heart is beating.

"This beats for you."

You smile and kiss his lips once more as you bring his other hand to your chest too. "And I'm yours," you whisper. "Only yours."

And until then, you'd never seen Tangerine's grin widen as widely as it did when you said those words. 

[unreliablesnake]

Big reputation (Simon Riley x reader)

Summary: You got injured on the field and now Ghost feels bad. Well, maybe it's not just guilt...

Note: The people have spoken. Soft!Ghost. Fluff. Short story.

In your previous team you managed to enrage a general that you shouldn’t have, and apparently kicking you out of your comfortable position was his way of punishing you. So now you came to meet your new team at the base, already having ideas of who’s who based on rumors circulating in the military. 

There was Price who was fair and relatively calm, Gaz who was loyal to the fault and was a surprisingly nice guy in general once he warmed up to you, and you couldn’t forget about Soap–whose call sign you found utterly ridiculous–who was a big mouthed but reportedly funny Scotsman. 

And then there was Ghost, the man who was a mystery to most. No one has seen his face from the people you talked to about the team, and you had a feeling you wouldn’t get to see it either. But that was okay. Him being a big and scary guy wearing a skull mask that every single person was terrified of was more than enough to make you cautious around him.

Fast forward to four months later, when Ghost became your shadow after a fucked up mission where you got hurt. It happened under his watch so he was probably blaming himself, but he never really gave you a reason why he was always near you. Soap was the one who mentioned him possibly feeling guilty, and since you had no better idea, you believed it to be true.

The big scary guy didn’t seem so scary anymore. He was more like a loyal guard dog that followed you everywhere and scared off people you didn't want to be around.

“You should go to bed, it’s late,” he said one evening after a briefing.

It was only the two of you in the room, everyone had left already, but he was going through some reports before taking them to Price. You let out a sigh and leaned forward to rest your elbows on your thighs as you observed him. He had left the room before, but after it emptied and it was only you in there, he came back with the files. Out of nowhere. Without a warning. He mumbled something about needing a quiet place, but that was a terrible excuse considering he had his room to go to.

For some reason he glanced over at you every once in a while, watching you as if there was something he wanted to say to you. But every time your eyes met, he returned his attention to the papers in front of him. He didn’t speak up and you weren’t about to bother him with questions. Ghost was usually pissed if someone asked too many questions, this is how Soap got burned a few times in the past. 

Then something changed. He closed the folder and turned his attention to you again, this time not shying away from making it obvious he was staring. You raised an eyebrow in question, hoping he would say something, but he remained silent. With a groan you stood up and walked over to him, gently pushing the folder away so you could sit on the edge of the desk next to the lieutenant. 

His hand inched closer, just enough to let his little finger brush your thigh. “It’s late,” he repeated his previous statement. 

“I’m not sleepy,” you replied with a shrug. “Why have you been watching me like this? Did I do something wrong?”

“No.”

“Then?”

Ghost sighed under the mask and pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He was toying with it for a few moments, his eyes focused on the item instead of you. “You’re causing me quite a few sleepless nights, Rabid,” he muttered as he pulled out a cigarette from the box. He called you by the nickname that awful general had given you a few months back, and you knew he never did that without a good reason. 

What were you supposed to say to that? I’m sorry? No, that wouldn’t be right. So you chose to be careful with your next words. “You can’t sleep?” you asked him, genuinely interested. 

“Not when all I can think about is you and what I’ve done to you,” he replied quietly. 

“Why, what have you done to me?”

He shook his head, mumbled something like ‘fuck it’, then pulled his mask to his nose and lit the cigarette. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of him getting in trouble for this. Price would be angry, because he believed if he could refrain from lighting a cigar indoors, so could others. So now that Ghost was inhaling the smoke with closed eyes, you didn’t know what to do or say. He would eventually speak up, right? 

Just when you were beginning to think he wouldn’t talk to you, his amber eyes landed on you and he said, “I sent you in there. You got hurt because of me.”

Soap had been right, he really did blame himself. Interesting. “Ghost, that wasn’t your fault,” you assured him. “Shit happens, it comes with the job. Don’t blame yourself.”

His free hand moved to take yours in his, and his long, thick, and gloved fingers wrapped around it gently. “I’m not blaming myself for you getting hurt, I know it comes with the job. I just can’t stop thinking about the what ifs. What if you died? What if you got so injured you would be discharged from the force? What if you were mad at me? What if you left me behind?” This last one made you raise an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you haven’t considered this after what happened,” he told you. 

“Never thought about leaving you behind,” you admitted. “You would mind? If I left and we never met again, I mean.”

Instead of answering, he raised your hand to his lips. “You and me… That would be quite a conversation, wouldn’t it? With your reputation and mine… Well,” he said, and you could see the shining in his eyes that gave away he was smiling. 

It took you a minute to realize he was talking about the two of you being in a romantic relationship. He was right, this would be huge. You were also a lieutenant, he wasn’t your superior, but people feared you both for different reasons. Ghost was… Ghost. All he had to do was stare at someone for five seconds and they would run away screaming. You, on the other hand, were feared because you were unpredictable. One wrong word and you would be at the poor bastard’s throat. 

So yeah. If there was anything to know, people wouldn’t shut up about it. You wondered if he was aware of the bets recruits were making about you. If there was anyone from base you slept with, it would be Ghost according to most of them. Maybe they were right. Maybe that was bound to happen. But maybe Ghost was taking part in the bet for fun. 

“I don’t care about that bet,” he suddenly spoke up. You were terrified for a moment since you had no idea how he figured out what you were just talking about. “I care about you. Would you mind if I kissed you?” 

You were too stunned to respond, all you could think about was the fact he dared to ask you this. You weren’t that close, not with him keeping a comfortable distance all the time. “Right now? Yeah, I would mind. Let’s just get to know each other first, yeah? Maybe over a drink.”

Ghost placed a soft kiss on your hand. “Anything you want,” he told you with a smile before pulling down the mask and getting rid of the remains of his cigarette. 

[maybaenk]

Moth to a flame

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Summary: She always goes back to him, no matter how much JJ hurts her. This time, however, is different and JJ slowly sees that.

Warnings: cursing, smut

Like a moth to a flame

I'll pull you in, I'll pull you back to what you need initially

It's just one call away

And you'll leave him, you're loyal to me

But this time I let you be

JJ had seen this before.

Y/N being sick of his shit. Tired of the way he’d constantly lead her on and then shutting her out completely. He didn’t want to be in a relationship with her, so she’d find someone else.

Someone sweeter, someone who’d want her. She’d find someone who’d give her all the attention she needed.

He watched them sitting on a log, the boy’s hand on her leg. She was smiling at him.

He thought about how she’d immediately go back to him if he called her right now. He imagined the way she would moan as his hands roamed her body, buried inside of her and the way the idiot she was looking at would be nowhere near the back of her mind. His hands hitched to grab his phone and make her leave the poor guy, but he knew it wasn’t right.

Y/N deserved something better, someone who wasn’t as messed up as him.

His jaw was tensed as he watched them, his eyes never leaving the pair. The guy was getting closer, his hand resting on Y/N’s thigh. Her eyes were happy, she was happy, but they didn’t sparkle like they did when she looked at him.

Suddenly, those same very eyes were looking right back at him. Her lips parted slightly, almost in surprise. He didn’t back down, continuing to stare at her.

Y/N knew that look. He was challenging her.

Go on.

He looked so good in his black tank and with his red cap on, she itched to get up and reach him. To touch him.

But then Y/N remembered their last encounter, the things he had said to her.

She was waiting for him, sitting in the porch at the Chateau. The old couch was comfortable and in her anxious state she almost wanted to lay down and let the sleep embrace her, but the nerves were eating her alive and she needed to talk to him.

It was eleven in the night when JJ got back, she heard his bike first. His footstep just minutes after and finally he was walking up the steps of the porch.

“Hey.” He said, surprised to see her, “What’s up?”

She couldn’t even look at him, “JJ.”

Her tone was low, disappointed, but always so sweet.

“What’s got you looking so down, baby?” He walked closer to her, raising a hand to touch her face but she turned it to the side.

“Someone told me about the girl from last night.” She spoke softly, “The blonde one?”

JJ took a step back, a sigh leaving his mouth. Y/N didn’t dare look at him, afraid she would cry.

“Who told you?” He sounded pissed off, and she found herself to be offended.

She finally looked up at him, “What does it matter, JJ?”

“It matters, okay? It’s none of their business, or yours for the matter.” He raised his voice.

Y/N looked taken aback and he almost apologized.

“I thought that— that-“

“What, Y/N?” He groaned, “What did you think? You know we’re not together, we’ve been over this.”

Her lips trembled, but she didn’t show him. She looked down, on the verge of crying. The sigh she let out was shaky.

“You didn’t want me to go out with Sean three weeks ago. I stayed with you. I’m such an idiot.” Y/N put her hands on her face.

JJ knew she was crying. It made his heart fall.

“Fucking doesn’t mean we’re together, Y/N.” He accused her.

“You know it’s not just that for me.” She finally looked at him, tears running down her cheeks, “You were my first time.”

Her voice was feeble, and JJ wanted to beat himself up.

“Why do you keep pushing me away?” She stood up.

He took another step back.

“It’s not like that for me and you know it.” His tone was stern now, “It’s not my fault you keep coming back to me, Y/N.”

JJ would never forget the look on her face.

“Right.” She nodded, head low as she surpassed him.

He watched the girl get on her car and leave, he could see her raise her hand to swipe the tears away before she was driving off.

That was the last time they’d seen each other, Y/N hadn’t been around the pogues since then.

She needed to remember the many times he had done this. He had broken her heart so many times she couldn’t let herself be a fool once again.

Y/N looked into his blue eyes one more time before shaking her head and turning away from him.

It caught him off guard. JJ expected her to shy away from the situation, to come back running to him.

This time was different.

'Cause he seems like he's good for you

And he makes you feel like you should

And all your friends say he's the one

His love for you is true

“It doesn’t bother you?” John B was speaking to him.

The blonde’s eyes were set on the couple sitting a few tables away from them at The Wreck.

The pogues had come in long after the two and found them already eating their food there. JJ didn’t expect Y/N to be still going out with the guy, so his heart missed a beat upon seeing his girl having a date with the idiot.

“He’s temporary.” He gave John B a smirk, although his friend could see the jealousy in his eyes.

“You’re so lame.” Kiara snorted, eyes on her food.

“Agreed.” Commented Pope.

“Just talk to her, bro.” The curly haired girl continued.

“About what?” JJ rolled his eyes.

The girl scoffed, not having the strength to put up with his act. She returned her attention to her food before Pope jokingly elbowed her and the blonde couldn’t help but wonder how good it must feel to be so effortlessly in love, without any problems and doubts in the way.

It didn’t help that Sarah and John B were also sitting in front of him, looking so in love it made him almost sick.

It wasn’t even ten minutes later that he heard a sweet voice by their table.

“Hey, guys.” Y/N was standing beside their table, a smile on her face as she tried avoiding JJ’s gaze. The douchebag was standing awkwardly behind her, waiting for the interaction to be over.

“Hey, Y/N/N.” Sarah grinned up at her, trying to fight off John B as he tried getting ketchup on her face.

The others greeted her too, everyone expect for JJ.

She had a disappointed look on her face as she listened to John B.

“We missed you today, think you’re gonna make it tonight?”

Y/N appreciated how the pogues didn’t mention the distance she had put between them and herself lately. They clearly knew about JJ and wanted to leave her be.

The blond was staring at the boy, so much that he was starting to be visibly uncomfortable. He scratched his neck under the scrutinizing gaze. Y/N noticed.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Me and Jake had planned this days ago.” She felt awkward, he could tell, “This is Jake, by the way.”

The others smiled at Jake, all but JJ, as expected. He just waved, a nervous smile on his face as he noticed.

“Jake, huh?” He finally spoke up, a slight smirk on his face, “Didn’t expect him to be your type, Y/N.” His eyes were finally on her as he blatantly ran them over her figure, especially focusing on the way the dress she was wearing accentuated her breasts.

“What do you mean?” Jake asked, an irritated expression on his face.

“She knows what I mean.” JJ’s eyes never looked away from Y/N’s.

Her cheeks brightened before she looked away.

She wanted to slap him. And then kiss him. But mostly slap that smirk off his face.

It wasn’t her fault he looked so handsome right now.

“Shut up, JJ.” She rolled her eyes, although he could see the way the pink lingered on her cheeks making her all flustered, “Bye, guys.”

She grabbed Jake’s arm and just like that they were gone.

He watched them leave before John B’s voice caught his attention.

“C’mon, man. You know I love you, but either you step up or leave her alone.”

“He seems like a good guy, JJ. I haven’t seen her so at peace for like, I don’t even know.” Kie scolded him, “You always do this, you don’t want her then you get all jealous and weird.”

JJ didn’t respond, instead their words about how Jake was making his girl feel resonating in his head. He thought about it; why was this thing lasting so long?

Was he really the guy for her? The good, well mannered wealthy guy?

But does he know you call me when he sleeps?

But does he know the pictures that you keep?

But does he know the reasons that you cry?

Or tell me, does he know where your heart lies?

Where it truly lies

It was one A.M. and JJ couldn’t sleep. He kept tossing around in his bed and the minute his eyes closed, visions and nightmares of his sweet girl moaning under another man clouded his mind.

What was happening to him? Why was he imagining her fucking the idiot?

He guessed it was his worst fear, her being taken away from him forever, someone else touching her.

He was just about to get up to get a glass of water when he heard his phone ring. He raised an eyebrow, wondering who the hell could it be this late at night.

He reached for the phone on his nightstand and he swore his heart missed a beat when her name flashed upon the screen.

“Y/N.” He answered, he couldn’t help but be worried about the reason she was calling this late when the two of them weren’t even on speaking terms. Had something happened?

“J.” She breathed, her voice a sweet whine.

Was she…?

“Y/N?” He repeated, a small sense of satisfaction beginning to grow in him. He could read her like an open book.

“I miss you,” She whispered, “I missed your voice.”

There she was. Coming back to him.

She always came back to him.

“Yeah?” He smirked, sitting up against the headboard.

“You know I miss you, come over?”

He felt his heart beat faster.

“You’re drunk, Y/N.” He answered.

He heard her sigh and shuffling around on the other side of the phone.

“I’ve just had a couple of drinks with the girls.” She sounded annoyed, her words slurred.

He was glad she was home safe.

“Don’t you miss me?” She countered, and JJ could hear her getting on the bed.

“You know I miss you, baby.” He gave her the truth, “But you’re drunk. You’re gonna regret this tomorrow. What about Jake?”

“As if you could care less about Jake.”

He chuckled, knowing it was the truth. He just wanted to speak some sense into her knowing she was drunk and not wanting to take advantage of her.

“You’re right, you know that?” He heard her humming in agreement, “But you’re still drunk. Are you tired, baby?”

“A bit.” She yawned, and he couldn’t help but feel his heart swell.

“Can you lay down and close your eyes for me?” He suggested, voice low and sweet and she was entranced by his voice.

“Hmm.”

“Did you close your eyes?”

“Yeah. I still wish you were here, though.” Y/N went on, her voice sleepy.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

Yeah

You should be with him, I let you go from time

You should stay with him

Y/N had avoided the pogues like the plague. They hadn’t seen her in almost a week, Kie being especially disappointed in her best friend.

What she didn’t know was that she wasn’t avoiding them to be with some stupid boy, it was because she was embarrassed about her call to JJ.

But he knew this and, although he kept silent as not to expose her, the deep feeling of satisfaction was even bigger in him as he watched Y/N and Jake by his spot on a keg at the kegger.

Y/N had just arrived, she was on his arm but JJ could see she was nervous.

Her eyes were scanning the whole crowd, not sure how to approach her friends. She hoped the blonde hadn’t said anything to them but deep down she knew he hadn’t. She knew him.

She spotted Kiara having a conversation with some people she didn’t recognize and didn’t want to miss the opportunity. She wasn’t with the pogues and she had to talk to her.

She wanted to talk to Sarah too, but she guessed she was with John B where John B was, JJ was too.

“Hey, Jake.” She drew his attention, “I’m gonna head over there to say hi to Kiara. See you later, alright?”

He nodded, plastering a kiss on her cheek before the two parted and she was walking to her best friend.

“Hey.” She spoke up once she got there, “Can we talk?”

Kiara looked at her before a smile took over her face, “Look who decided to show her face.”

“Yeah, sorry.” She sheepishly countered, “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

The other girl nodded, saying her byes to the teens she had just been chatting with before grabbing her best friend’s hand and walking a few feet away from the group.

Then she stood, waiting for Y/N to speak up, “What’s up?”

Y/N looked around her to ensure none of the pogues were around. She had yet to see them.

“So…” She was so embarrassed, “I called JJ when we got back from the bar a week ago, I was drunk — but you know that, and asked him to come over.” She covered her face with her hands as she finished, not wanting to see the amused expression on Kie’s face.

She heard her laugh, “That’s why you’ve been avoiding us. You could’ve told me sooner.”

She removed her hands from her eyes, “I know but it was so embarrassing.”

Kiara chuckled, “God, Y/N, you’re such a simp.”

The girl’s cheek brightened, a laugh leaving her mouth. She knew it was true.

“What about Jake?” Her best friend asked.

Y/N just shrugged.

“Girl.” Kie deadpanned, ready to smack her friend.

“What am I supposed to do?” She sadly told her, “It’s not like JJ wants something to do with me. At least not anything serious. I love him but Jake is a good guy and he treats me well, don’t I deserve that?”

The curly haired girl sighed.

“Of course you do. But you may end up hurting him as long as JJ’s on your mind.”

Y/N knew she was right. She just wanted to forget about everything and not have to worry about anyone.

The two girls continued to chat and laugh while the night escalated.

JJ had watched a bit of the interaction just to be sure Kie wouldn’t lash out on Y/N. He knew she wouldn’t but the girl was unpredictable. He was glad when he saw them laughing together just a few minutes later and returned to his beer and his conversation with Pope and John B.

“Hey, guys, I’m gonna go get a refill.” JB announced after a while, his red cup empty in his hand.

“I’m coming too.” Pope got up with him.

“Be right back.” They told him.

He took a sip of his beer and just as his gaze was about to return on a certain girl, he heard a voice from beside him.

“Y/N told me about you two.”

It was Jake, and the blonde couldn’t help but chuckle. He had waited for him to be alone.

He was clearly intimidated by him and didn’t want him to have his friends as back up in case something had happened.

“That bothers you?” JJ looked up at him from his spot on the log, a small smirk on his face.

“Not at all.” His voice was tense, “I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t get in the way.”

He was already beginning to piss him off and it was the second time he opened his mouth to talk to him. However, he tried maintaining his calm and laid his hands behind him on the log, gaze scrutinizing the other teen who was standing in front of him.

“Sounds to me like it does.” He just answered.

Jake’s jaw ticked.

“No offense, man, but how could it?” He looked JJ up and down, trying to take a dig at him.

JJ laughed humorlessly, it wasn’t certainly the money that made Y/N come back to him every single time.

“I don’t think that what she cares about.” JJ smiled up at the boy, a hint behind his eyes.

“What’s happening?” They heard a voice just as Jake was about to respond.

“Nothing.” He quickly spoke up.

“Just your boyfriend trying to make sure I won’t get in the way of your relationship.” JJ retorted, Y/N could hear the amusement in his voice, “Nothing I can guarantee though, big boy.”

Jake launched himself towards the boy, an angry expression on his face and hadn’t it been for Y/N, who promptly put herself between the two boys, he would’ve tackled JJ to the ground.

But she had, and now he stood up, a new found rage behind his eyes that intimidated even Y/N.

The girl knew about his anger issues, about all the times he’d been in fights. She knew about his dad and the way all JJ waited for was to unleash his anger in these kind of situations. He’d learned how to fight from the master himself; Jake didn’t stand a chance.

“You want to be the tough guy, yeah?” He smiled, it made chills go down the girl’s spine, “I’ll show you how though you are.”

“Stop. What the fuck, guys?” She exasperated, arms in the air.

“You tell your boyfriend to chill before I do it.” JJ snarled.

“Jake, are you out of your mind?” Y/N looked at the boy accusingly.

“Why are you taking his side?” He spit.

“Aren’t you the one who started this nonsense?” She raised an eyebrow.

The commotion was starting to draw attention, and JJ could soon spot Kie making her way over.

“Why are you taking his side?” Jake repeated, an offended look painting his angry features.

“It’s not about sides, Jake.” She crossed her arms, “It’s about you coming here and starting this shit. What the hell are you doing? He’s my friend.”

Jake scoffed, and even JJ was tempted to. But he stayed silent, glaring at the idiot from behind Y/N.

“Friend my ass.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, pushing a hand through her long locks.

“What’s going on?” Kie’s voice resonated in the air.

“Yeah, what’s going on?” John B and Pope were there too and Y/N just wanted to be home and away from everyone. Sarah, who’d been with some of her old friends from the kook academy until now, was there too now, her hand in John B’s.

“It’s me or him right now, Y/N.” Jake spoke up, completely ignoring the girl’s friends.

JJ chuckled, although he could feel the nerves starting to form. What if she left with him?

“Oh, so that’s what’s going on.” John B’s amused face was making Y/N want to smack him too.

“What?” There was an expression on disbelief on her face and JJ wondered how she didn’t see this coming. He was an idiot after all.

“You heard me.”

Y/N looked back and forth between the two of them, and she knew it was time she made a decision.

She knew where her heart laid. A golden boy with hair the color of the sun and eyes the color of the sky was who her heart would always belong to. She thought about his touch, his scent, his kisses. She thought about the way he would make her feel beautiful and loved. But then she thought about the way he would make her feel so worthless she had never felt so alone. She thought about the days she couldn’t get a hold of him, or the times he’d been with others and she’d wondered why he couldn’t love her.

It’s not like that for me and you know it. He’d said to her.

So she chose her mind. She chose the boy who’d been nice to her all along. He’d took her on dates and bought her flowers and although he didn’t make her heart beat faster she knew he was the one who made her warm and safe.

She made a step towards Jake and without ever looking back, she said her feeble byes to her friends and walked away.

JJ felt his heart shutter. He didn’t think it was possible up until then.

He looked at Jake and felt the rage swirling in his veins at the grin he was giving him. He thought about tackling him to the ground and beating him up but what would the point be? Y/N had made up her mind and she’d chosen him.

He watched them walk away before he turned around and stormed out of the beach.

He didn’t stop when his friends called out his name, nor when he heard Kie beg him to stop.

But what did he expect? He knew what he’d said to her that night. He knew.

As Y/N left the party in Jake’s car, all she could think about was how JJ hadn’t mentioned their call to the boy.

'Cause he seems like he's good for you

And he makes you feel like you should

And all your friends say he's the one

His love for you is true (hey)

Y/N felt suffocated in the tight dress she was wearing.

Smile and introduce yourself to everyone. Jake had told her and she did just that, wanting for this to be over.

It was Midsummer’s and he’d invited her to attend with him and his family. She guessed this would make things official.

She felt uncomfortable the whole time, this was not her habitat and everyone knew that.

Kie was there, too, forced by her parents, but Y/N didn’t find it in herself to find this of any comfort. That was how sad and lonely she felt these days.

It had been a week since the kegger and things weren’t great for her. She hated herself for this but she missed a certain blond and nothing could take him off her mind no matter what.

She’d seen Kie and Sarah two days ago but even her best friends hadn’t been able to cheer her up.

“I can’t fucking believe it.” She heard Jake growl from beside her.

“What?” She looked up.

She saw him looking at something in front of them and she followed his gaze and there, all the way across the room, was JJ, clad in a waiter’s uniform and serving drinks.

She couldn’t explain the way her heart reacted upon seeing him even if she wanted too. She felt alive for the first time in a week.

“Of course he’d be here too. The guy’s everywhere.”

“Stop.” She deadpanned, giving him a nasty look.

But when she returned her eyes to the boy, her heart made a leap when noticing those same eyes she’d been dreaming about all week, were looking right back at her. There was a strange emotion behind them, one she’d never seen before. She wanted to run over there and hug him and kiss him, but knew she couldn’t.

JJ, on the other hand, didn’t expect her to be there either. His heart felt like it was breaking even more upon seeing her there with him, but then he noticed her sad eyes and all he wanted to do was get to her and make everything that was hurting her go away.

The exchange of longing looks was quickly interrupted by Jake who hooked their arms and pulled her away to go meet yet another disgusting kook when his parents called him over.

She looked back at JJ while Jake dragged her away and her heart missed a beat when she noticed his eyes following her.

The night passed quickly, JJ couldn’t wait to get out of there and get wasted to forget the way she looked on his arm, with his family and dressed like one of them.

He guessed it was his own fault. He’d been the one to push her away, so why was he so angry? He’d seen the way Jake tended to Y/N all night, the way his attention was constantly on her. He behaved like a gentleman and he knew then why she’d chosen him.

He gave her everything he couldn’t.

Maybe it was for the best.

But does he know you call me when he sleeps? (No, no)

But does he know the pictures that you keep? (Oh)

But does he know the reasons that you cry?

Or tell me, does he know where your heart lies?

Where it truly lies

He didn’t know she’d be laying in her bed just hours laters, tears running down her cheeks. She felt so lonely, it was breaking her heart.

She had everything she wanted in a relationship so why was she feeling this way?

It was the pictures on her phone.

The one where JJ stood behind her, his arms around her frame and his head on hers.

The one where he kissed her cheek.

The one where they laid naked in bed, her arms around his neck.

The one where they smiled at the camera.

The one where they slept on the hammock entangled in each other that JB had taken.

Her favorite was one Kie had taken; it pictured them sitting on the couch, her legs thrown over JJ’s. She had stolen his cap and she was putting it on her head. The thing she loved was the adoring look he had on his face as she looked at her, a small smile on his lips.

There were so many she couldn’t even scroll through all of them because she felt her heart shutter at the thought of never having him this close again.

Right here with me, babe

Where it truly lies

My bed, babe

Where it truly lies

In my arms, babe

Where it truly lies

It was two days laters when Y/N decided she’d had enough. She’d been spending her days crying at home, avoiding Jake and never answering his massages nor his calls.

She missed her friends and wanted to bask in the comfort of their presence and this was the only thought in her mind when she showed up that night at the Chateau after meeting up with Jake to end things. He hadn’t taken it very well.

“Look who’s here!” John B had announced.

Seconds later she was engulfed by the comforting embrace of Sarah. She’d almost tackled her to the ground with her hug but Y/N didn’t mind, the familiar touch and perfume of the bubbly blonde almost enough to make her cry again.

She said hi to everyone before she sat down by the fire with them.

She couldn’t help but notice the absence of JJ, and although she was a little disappointed she thought it was better this way; she actually felt relieved.

She was grateful when none of her friends asked her invading questions. They just let her be and enjoyed her presence again, making her feel part of the group again immediately.

She tried keeping up with the conversations and jokes but her mind was very tired. She hadn’t slept in days and now that she felt this much comfort again she just wanted to lay down and rest.

“Hey, John B.” She called for his attention, her voice sweet as always, “Do you think— do you think JJ would mind if I used his bedroom just for a bit? I haven’t slept in days and I feel really tired.”

Sarah threw her a sympathetic look from beside JB, who answered immediately, “Yeah, go ahead. I haven’t seen him all day, I don’t think he’s gonna show up tonight.”

She felt content and at peace in the Chateau. The pogues were her family and she couldn’t love them more. She smell of JJ’s cheap cologne surrounded her and relaxed her whole being. It didn’t surprise when she felt sleep embrace her.

That was until she felt a familiar bike approaching the house before pulling up.

She felt panic rise in her chest as she sat up. Her heartbeat accelerated. What would she say to him?

Too late, the bike had already stopped and minutes later, she felt the door of the Chateau open. She guessed the others told him she was in there.

She scrambled to get up in time and made her way to the door, opening it.

There stood JJ, his hand raised to open it too.

She took a step back, redness exploding on her cheeks and she started stuttering.

“Uh, sorry— sorry J. JB told be you probably wouldn’t be here tonight and I was just trying to sleep but I heard your bike.” She rushed, “I’ll go.”

She tried making her way past him but he grabbed her arm. She shuddered under his familiar touch.

“It’s fine, you can stay. I’ll sleep on the couch.” His eyes never looked away from hers, making her all the more a blushing mess.

“Okay, thanks.” She agreed without even thinking.

What?

They stood there, looking at each other. So much was on their minds they wanted to say, but neither spoke up.

“Okay then, goodnight.” She ended the awkward moment.

Y/N tossed around the bed all night. The thought of his presence just mere meters from her made her heart go crazy. She craved his touch, his presence. But she couldn’t so instead she resoluted to turning around every now and then in hope of sleep engulfing her again.

At four A.M., she decided to get up and get something to drink. JJ would surely be asleep by now.

Her feet carried her to the kitchen lightly.

Her heart jumped to her stomach when she noticed the light of a phone where the couch was. JJ was awake and scrolling through his phone. His raised his eyes from the phone to look at her when he noticed her presence, a surprised look merely taking over his features.

“Oh.” She mumbled, “Sorry, just wanted a glass of water.”

He watched her as she opened the refrigerator and poured herself some water, then quickly drank it. It looked to him as if she wanted to be gone as soon as possible.

“C’mere, Y/N.” She suddenly heard his voice just as she was about to walk back to JJ’s room.

“What?” She whispered, heart thumping against her ribcage.

“Come here.”

She did. She didn’t know why, but she had stopped questioning herself around JJ. It was as if his mere presence made her drunk, her mind never properly working.

She stood in front of him, hands fidgeting at her sides.

JJ grabbed one of them, pulling her towards him. He dragged her down on him until she was straddling him, she gasped as her hands came up to his shoulders for support after the sudden movement.

“What are you doing, JJ?” She asked, panic in her voice.

“I miss us, Y/N.” He simply said, making her heart stop beating.

How could he say something like that so easily?

She wanted to slap him.

“We can’t.”

“I say we can.” He whispered as he got closer, lips millimeters from hers.

She lowered her hands, now pushing back against his chest. He sighed, sitting down against the couch and looking up at her. There was a longing look behind his eyes.

“I can’t.” She repeated, this time making herself very clear.

It was as if Y/N had just thrown a bucket of cold water on him, he looked as if he had sobered up.

“Jake’s an idiot.” He whispered, even the mention of his name irritating him.

“He’s not. He does everything a boyfriend is supposed to.”

He scoffed.

“That’s the only reason you like him for?”

She tried thinking of anything else, but she ended up lying to herself over and over again, for every reason she came up with. Was that really the only thing he liked him for?

Sure, he was a good looking guy, but that wasn’t a reason. He was nice, but a lot of people were. He treated her well. There we go again.

“I deserve to be happy, JJ.” She sadly said.

He knew she was referring to him, his hands itched to grab her, to comfort her.

“I know you do, Y/N/N.” He said.

“Then what is it that you want?” She angrily asked, her hands pushing him again.

Suddenly she was angry, not understanding why he couldn’t let her be. Why he couldn’t let her be happy.

She knew that if she really stopped to think about it, she would have realized what she was feeling now, with Jake, was far from happiness, but nonetheless she took out her anger on him.

And JJ, who couldn’t help but feel like an idiot, couldn’t really answer her question.

What do I want?

“Y/N I-“ She was already getting up to leave when he couldn’t even finish the sentence.

JJ didn’t let her leave this time.

He’d done that again and again, and every time he’d hurt himself and Y/N. He wouldn’t let her go this time.

He grabbed her hips and pulled her down again; she began pushing at him nonstop, fighting the willing to cry.

He could see her eyes getting watery, her lips trembling and she fought against him.

“I want us, Y/N.” He finally told her, grabbing her face with his hands.

Y/N stopped writhing, a few tears cascading down her cheeks. His hands were resting on each side of her face, a thumb wiping them away.

“Stop fooling around, J.”

But he could see the hopeful glint behind her emotional eyes, he could see the way she’d stopped breathing, waiting for him to go on.

He felt his heart hurt a little less knowing she was still waiting for him. Knowing she still wanted him.

“I’m not.” He promised, “I want you, Y/N.”

One of his hands left her face, coming down to rest on her hip. The other continued to caress her cheek as she subconsciously leaned into his comforting touch.

“I can’t do this again, J.” She brokenly whispered, afraid it would be like every other time.

“No, no.” He reassured her, “I mean it this time, baby. I’m serious about me. I’m yours, if you still want me.”

Y/N felt her heart beating so hard against her ribcage she feared he would hear it, too. It felt like some kind of dream.

She’d been in love with this boy for so many years, for so much time that she didn’t think it was possible for him to finally reciprocate her feelings for him.

What she didn’t know, was that he had all along. JJ was just— JJ. He was afraid, and these kind of things were never his forte. He was afraid she would leave like everyone else and he’d get his heart broken, had he ever let her in. So instead he just pushed her away. Time after time.

“What are you saying, J?” Her hands came up to his shoulders again, shaking slightly.

“I’m saying I’m ready, Y/N.” He pushed a strand of hair away from her beautiful face, “No more running away from my feelings, no more denying.”

She just stared at him, too entranced by the whole situation and his words. Her eyes held that adoring look that he loved, making him feel some type of way.

“What do you say?” He asked her.

“I don’t want this to be just because of Jake.” She told him.

He heard the sadness in her voice and saw the fear behind her eyes.

“It’s not that, baby.” He went on, “Seeing you with him just made me realize things. I know you feel nothing for him and I certainly know he doesn’t mean anything to you, alright? But it made realize I can’t stand here and let you go just because I’m so afraid of my feelings. I can’t imagine myself feeling these things for anyone else, Y/N. And I don’t want to push it away any longer.”

Her smile made his heartbeat stutter, and it suddenly felt happy again.

“I’m yours, JJ.”

And then he kissed her.

And it was something Y/N could never describe. She felt happiness again, she felt home.

His arms circled her waist bringing her closer to him. They kissed until the two of them couldn’t breathe, and then they kissed again. And again.

She moaned into his mouth when she felt him underneath her. She moved her hips against his and he groaned, suddenly standing up and carrying her to his bedroom.

She laughed, securing her arms around his neck. He continued kissing her neck until they were in the bedroom, kicking the door shut and gently throwing her in the bedroom.

Chuckling, she got ahold of his t-shirt and dragged him down with her. Her hands found his shorts in a matter of seconds, bringing them down his legs as he too undressed her.

“I missed this body.” He whispered against her skin, lips trailing down her stomach.

Y/N didn’t remember how they were suddenly naked, she could however remember the feeling of his lips gracing her, his fingers tracing her thighs.

“Tell me you didn’t let him touch you.”

“I didn’t.” She shook her head, eager for his touch, “I promise.”

It sounded like a beg, and Y/N didn’t miss the way he smirked before his fingers were inside her.

Her back arched, a moan leaving her own mouth as she squeezed the sheets between her fingers.

“J.” She whined when his tongue joined his fingers.

He worked like a God, and Y/N had missed him. She missed the way he could make her feel and although she didn’t have anyone else to compare him to, she knew he was the best she could ever have and the voices about him on the island confirmed it.

His touch was driving her crazy, moans escaping her as her hips bucked up to meet him.

“So sweet.” He mumbled against her.

He added another finger making her tremble, she was completely at his mercy.

And then, between the pleasure and his touch, Y/N had started to become needier.

She whined, coming up to rest on her elbows, “I need you, J.”

JJ thought he’d die right then and there.

He looked up at her, that smirk of him gracing his features. Her hand came down to meet his face as she encouraged him to come back up. He did, leaving a last kiss on her and making her shudder before meeting her lips again. She could taste herself on him.

“Please.”

It was all it took for JJ to stop teasing her.

She felt his member at her entrance, chills running down her spine as she arched her spine from that pleasure alone.

His hand was on her cheek as he pushed inside of her, his mouth immediately opening in pleasure and a groan leaving his lips. It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Y/N closed her eyes as a gasp left her; they hadn’t been together for some time and she was having a bit of difficulty readjusting to his size, the slight burn hurting her. It was a good hurt.

“I know, baby.” He kissed her, “Haven’t been taking good care of you lately, have I?”

She raised her head slightly to kiss him again, needing the comfort. Her hands found his cheeks as the kiss deepened, his pace fastening causing whimpers to fall from her lips between the kisses.

“I know you can take it.” He prodded her.

She nodded, moaning when the pain slowly started to melt into pleasure.

“I can take it, J.” She gave in to him, her legs finding her way around his waist and bringing him closer.

His thrusts became faster and harder as time passed, sweet nothings whispered into each other’s ears.

It was the most intense feeling Y/N had ever experienced, being with JJ.

Again, she’d never been with guys before him, but she knew it couldn’t have been like this for everyone — sex with JJ felt like daydreaming. She couldn't put it into words. It wasn't just physical; it felt as if their whole beings, bodies and souls became one.

And this time felt so much more intimate, loving, and as thought the two of them were meant to be together. And Y/N was sure they were.

She moaned a bit too loudly when he hit a particular spot, pleasure exploding in her lower stomach as he repeatedly thrusted inside of her. Her nails left marks on his back, her arms now around his neck as she stifled the sounds she was making by biting down on his shoulder. JJ moaned, one of his hands coming down her back to lift her up against him as she arched her spine.

“I missed you.” He kissed her neck, “Mine.”

Then she was pushing her hands against his chest and made him sit down on the bed, coming up so straddle his waist. Her hand wrapped around his cock, giving it a few pumps before lining it up with her entrance and then sinking down on it.

She sat down completely on his member and JJ threw his head back in pleasure, his jaw tense as his hands found her waist, squeezing the flesh.

“You look like a Goddess.” He groaned out as she began moving up and down on him, hands on his shoulders.

Her pace fastened, hips coming down to meet his waist in hard motions. Y/N felt she was close.

“God, JJ.” She cried, her movements becoming sloppier as she came closer.

She loved the sounds he was making, loved the way his eyes were shut in pure bliss and his abs were tense in please.

“You take me so good, baby.” He told her, “I’m gonna cum.”

“I want it inside, J.” She whispered in his ear, “I want you to come inside of me.”

It was enough for JJ to cum, his high triggering her own.

She placed open mouthed kisses on his chest as she came down.

“Fuck.” She panted.

One of her hands came up to her face, her thumb caressing his skin as he brought her closer to him, eyes never leaving her.

“I love you, Y/N.”

And it was that night, their bodies tangled together in his sheets that JJ understood that no matter what happened, her heart would always lay with him.

Taglist: @soapiebear @70smaybank @maybankslover @myguiltypleasures21 @chaoticavrey

[prettyboykatsuki]

Bye the geto fic stirred something inside me. I need her to get w someone loyal and smart (nanamin) who’s kinda yandere and will love her + make sugu grovel

SDFSDLKJFSD you know. i think its funny to think of this reader ending up with nanamin because he'd sweep them off their feet so quickly !!! and they'd get so hung up on him so fast cause he's such a stark contrast, but i do think they are too much of a messy disaster for nanamin to take full interest </3 they're soooo damaged SKJDHS (you'll never guess why . Lmao)

HONESTLY THOUGH... i like the idea of reader meeting someone who actually isn't swayed by getou no matter how hard he tries and how much it pisses him off in a way that makes him almost have to grovel for forgiveness.

like getou is insane but the worst part of all of it is how like....deprived he is of them you know....god. like you get a new partner and you're really, really happy and loved by them. and your new partner is soooo fucking private with you and really doesn't let getou near you at allll. all getou has to go off of are those "private not secret selfies" and every time you're together you're like. glowing.

OUUUU AND YOU'RE NEW PARTNER DOESN'T LET YOU HANG OUT W GETOU UNLESS ITS IN A BIG GROUP SO HE GOES CRAZY OYUUHGHH

it just enrages him in such a pathetic way and he has no outlet bc its all his fault.... LOVE

[riftwalker-limbro]

Feel free to ignore this if it comes out with too many repeats of what was discussed last night, but i think it's fun to sometimes ask characters about each other instead of asking the all-knowing author

So! Deimos triad. What would each of them say the other two's best and worst traits are?

jdhfbjhg oh. oh dear. incredible way to send six asks at once /positive. let's GO

verica about vince

bad: one stark difference between vince and jay is that vince tends to want to hide himself away (ignore his own needs etc) entirely if he feels it might be even the littlest bit warranted. this does Not mesh well with verica's own worries about being Slightly Too Convincing Sometimes. she gets him to work on it, and he does get better about it, it's just something that really spooks her at the start

good: on the flip side of this, he's now in a position where he has the potential to make Big Differences in the lives of others, and he acts accordingly - he pushes himself to help, sometimes a bit too far. given her own history, this is something she really appreciates, because she has been in this same boat for longer, and then they can go sit in their boat together and not try to stop one another about it

secret third option (funny): it is still incredibly funny to watch him get stuck in Contrarian Mode and argue himself into corners that she knows that He Knows he can't get out of anymore

---

verica about pule

good: call it what you want - clown, entertainer, joker, distraction-on-demand - but he is damn good at keeping up group morale.

bad: he gets stuck in his own head, keeps blaming himself for stuff that's so far in the past it's all but dust in the wind for everyone else, far beyond the point of being reasonable. she sees that it's a powerful driving force for him but he shouldn't have to suffer so hard for things that he can never change anymore

---

pule about vince

bad: a trait that persisted throughout the Confetti Event is definitely that vince is Bad at Taking Care of Himself and this manifests in many little ways. pule is doubly not okay with this because of Gestures At Their History. (similar to verica's opinion on him, but where she focuses on where he does it Actively, pule ultimately lived with jay for Longer and Knows his unconscious habits & how they came to be slightly better, and he's not happy about seeing them somehow translated into vince)

good: once he learns to communicate a bit better, he does express his affection for both pule and verica MUCH better and more than before - a slightly-worse-than-near-death experience will do that to you. it's nice to know that someone likes you but doubly so to hear and see that reaffirmed often. also his willingness to vehemently argue about details with pule at a second's notice for shits and giggles

---

pule about verica

bad: he sees her stick to a plan to a fault, and he, well, finds fault with it, because the plans aren't always perfect. he has developed various tactics to get her to adjust course without breaking her motivation down all the way, which does usually work, because she does acknowledge this flaw. it's a kind of verbal sparring on a level that most other people don't take notice of unless they're paying CLOSE attention to see something in her demeanour change when he applies these tactics

good: she is VERY driven. it is Easy to go along on missions when she's also there, because she has enough motivation for the entire squad.

---

vince about pule

good: pule is fucking Dedicated to his friends/family/unit/whatever. he is loyal as all hell. vince enjoys knowing that he can rely on him like that if there's ever something

bad: vince gets the feeling that sometimes pule doesn't take certain things seriously enough. on a mission or during shenanigans that's all perfectly fine - he means more pule's own feelings and what's going on in his own head. he seems quick to try and dismiss it when he's not feeling great about something. vince has Been There and it Isn't Fun Stop It

---

vince about verica

good: he's still incredibly hung up on how smart he thinks she is and it's adorable. i keep trying to vibecheck him harder for this but that's all that comes through for "best quality" without repeating myself or stating the obvious

bad: he sees her readiness to pick fights when there's disagreements/(thinly veiled) insults being thrown around, and as a person with a healthy ego (after the, uh. initial period), he feels her on that, but as an academic who has both had to 1. keep his own annoyance in check around surprisingly dense students and 2. strategically schmooze for funding, he feels like There Are Better Ways Than Physically Butting Heads. and this was fine Before, but now that they're actively fighting so many battles on so many fronts with such diverse allies, she should probably... not be on the forefront of the diplomatic talks. it worked fine during the rebellion, when everyone was angry and Being Angry worked to lead all of that, but in a war of attrition like this it no longer has a place

[faofinn]

DAY 21: shackled

@febuwhump

The metal shackles bit into Fao’s wrists as once more he pulled back to try and get free. He’d been trying for hours, focused on the metal pin hammered into the stone, trying to work it loose. It had been to no avail, it serving just to bruise his wrists and exhaust him. He’d not given up, though, as the metal cut his skin and made it bleed, dripping down his fingers. 

It wasn’t the first time he’d been shackled, and he doubted it would be the last, either. He knew he needed to stop running his mouth, that it often got him into trouble, but when he’d been faced with those idiots he couldn’t help himself. And so now he was stuck in a cold cell, the floor covered in straw, a tiny slit of light coming from a thin window at the top of the back wall. 

For once, things hadn’t even been his fault. He’d thought that being in the employ of the king would have changed things, that he didn’t have to be afraid of being thrown in the cells simply because someone needed a person to blame. 

One of the King’s Lords, who managed a large amount of land to the North, but South of Tomas, had kicked up a fuss about something or other. Fao didn’t understand it - he’d not been privy to the information. Just thrown into the cells and locked away with no explanation. There had been an issue, and Fao was under scrutiny, and that was that. 

The anger boiled up, and he shouted out, pulling back harder. The chains rattled, the shackles bit into his skin again, cutting deeper and deeper. The pain just made him more and more angry, hot blood over his hands. 

Fred was no different to the rest of them, and now he was paying the price for thinking things would be different. He was an easy target, he knew, but he’d thought that guarding the prince would have granted him privileges. He’d been honest, and loyal, and good at his job. Now what? Stuck in a freezing cold cell, watching his own blood drip onto the straw covered stone floor. 

It hadn't taken long for Finn to catch wind of the issues, and to start complaining. Unfortunately for them, Fred had been powerless against the court, and so, Fao had been left in the cell. 

That hadn't sat well with Finn, and he’d immediately started planning Fao's escape. Of course, other guards had been brought in to keep Finn in his chambers, but there was a reason Fao had been his main for so many years. 

He managed to sneak out easily, running to the stable and mounting Toren. He didn’t bother with his tack, figuring Fao would be fine without, and galloped into the night. 

Finn had never felt comfortable near the cells, something setting him on edge. He pulled Toren up in the tree-line, telling the grey to stay. 

The guards were easy enough to sneak past, and the other by the stairs had fallen asleep. He scoffed at the state, made a mental note to mention it to his father, and silently headed down to greet Fao.

He found Fao's cell, quietly fiddling with the lock, murmuring under his breath.

Day had dragged into night once more, and Fao had given up pulling at his shackles. He was slumped against the wall, his knees drawn up to his chest. His wrists had just about stopped bleeding, but they were throbbing now. He’d been falling asleep, despite trying not to, but lifted his head when he heard the lock on the door jangling, someone muttering on the other side of the door.

As Fao raised his head, Finn froze, his finger on his lips. "Shh."

“What the fuck?” His hissed.

"I can leave you here if you don’t want my help."

“That’s not what I said.” He muttered.

Finn grinned. "Thought so."

“Jus’ hurry up.”

"Yeah, I'm trying." He muttered, finishing with the lock and setting it aside. "Are you able to walk?"

Fao offered him his hands. “I need these off.”

"I know. But they've not hurt you? I'll kill them if they have."

He shook his head. “I can walk.” He said. “But I need my sword.”

"We'll find it." He dropped to his knees by Fao's side, wincing at the state of his wrists. 

“The guards have my belt.” He said softly. 

"Which one? The idiot? One with the beard?"

“Surprisingly, I didn’t get a good look at their faces when they unceremoniously shoved me in here and stripped me of half of my belongings.” He grumbled. “I think the one with the beard.”

"Should have tried harder." He teased. "Aha, there. That was a shite lock."

“It’s had me leaning all of my weight on it since I’ve been down here.”

"Bit more and you might have got out of it."

“I was hoping to.”

"You'll need them dressed, they look painful."

“They’re fine.” Fao grumbled. “I need my sword and I need out of here.”

"You've said."

He forced himself to stand. “Did you get rid of the guards?”

He hesitated, and at least had the decency to look sheepish. "Not exactly."

“What does that mean?”

"One of them was fast asleep and the others weren't paying attention."

Fao huffed. “Great.”

"Not like you're in a state for fighting anyway."

“Thought I’d trained you well enough to take the fucking guards out.”

"Thought I'd trained you well enough to not get caught for stupid things!"

“I didn’t do anything!” Fao spat. “I don’t know why I’m even here.”

"If you're going to be like that, I'll just leave you." Finn muttered. 

“Don’t start.” 

"Then don't tempt me."

“Just get me out of here.” He grumbled, glancing around for the guards. 

"Are you sure you're gonna be okay?" Finn asked, uncharacteristically soft.

“Just get me out of here.” Fao repeated. 

"Alright. Come on, then. Toren’s waiting."

He nodded. Thankfully, the guards were still as slack as ever, and didn’t notice the pair of them skulking through the shadows. Fao managed to grab his weapons belt from the sleeping one, looping it around his waist. His wrists were burning now, pulling with every movement, but he didn’t have a choice. They had to keep moving.

[uitwaaiien]

I don’t want to be near you. I want nothing to do with you anymore. Your presence gives me absolutely nothing but anxiety and toxic energy. I was never the problem. Even if I was at a point in time, I loved you enough to fix myself. I did the work. I put in the work. I took accountability for all my issues. And you? Still blaming me? Shows a lot. You can never accept the fact that you were the problem. I was NEVER like this before you came back into my life. All your hate. All your negativity. All your abuse. All your coldhearted-ness. It ALL transferred to me. I picked it up from you. I was NEVER this way before you came back into my life. And yet, it was still my fault? No. It wasn’t. You’ll never see that and I am done convincing you. I’m done trying to help you. I am done trying to get you to see my side and understand me.

Congratulations. You really lost the person who would have jumped in front of a bullet for you. I would have done ANYTHING for you. I did. I did everything. I did anything you wanted. Anything you needed from me. All you had to do was ask and communicate with me, and you got it. I did everything I could to make you happy.

You broke so many promises to me. I thought you kept them and I was so fucking gullible for believing in you. I loved your potential. I love who I thought you could be. I loved 18 year old you. But I do not love you. I do not love the version of you that lied to me. Manipulated me. Abused me. Gaslit me. Cheated on me. Disrespected me. You are an absolutely horrible person. Do you know how NASTY I feel??? Knowing you were with ALL THOSE WOMEN, and you BROUGHT THAT HOME?! TO YOUR WIFE?! To your FAMILY?! Without a second fucking thought?! You are disgusting. And you yelled at ME?! For what?! For having a sex life before you? At least I was loyal. I stayed with you. Through all your hells. Through everything. Even when you were with other girls, you still called me. You ALWAYS ran back to me. And I stupidly always let you back in. You did nothing for me. Honestly, you did nothing but bring hate and negativity into my heart and into my life. The only time you benefited me was when we were kids. You made me happy then. You were respectful and I was so in love with you. But that boy is dead now and he is not coming back. Fuck you for tricking me. For fooling me. For making me look like an idiot. For betraying me - the one person who loved you more than she loved herself. For stabbing me in the back over and over again. For lying to my face…when you knew how deeply you had already hurt me. I loved you with such a pure, genuine, wholesome heart. You did nothing. You did nothing but sit back and watch as you tore me apart. How do you do that to someone? And to come home from Arizona…and still lie to my face. After I had already decided on divorce, there was nothing else that would have saved you. But yet, you still did it. You still did the absolute worst thing you could to me. Lie to me again. And cheat on me…again. You have no self control. You have no respect for anyone but yourself. You care about nobody but yourself. You never loved me. You loved what I did for you. You loved the love I gave you. The comfort. The security. The company. You never loved me. You never cared about me. You never viewed as more than someone you could use until you were done with her. Because that’s what you always did. You used me…and abused me. Over and over again without blinking. You didn’t give it a second thought to all the things you did to me. And then you would come home and start doing it all over again. I never cared about the thoughts that went through your head. Or about your deployments and all the things you did that keep you up at night. I never cared about all the things you hated about yourself. I loved you. I wanted to protect you. I wanted nothing more than to keep you safe. To protect your heart. To keep your soul and body safe in my arms. You never did that for me. When you were young, you did. And stupidly…I held onto that. That he would come back. That he magically appear in my arms one day. But you killed him. And then you faked it…and you tricked me. Every time. You cheated on me…every time. And I should have let you go so long ago. But you dragged me along. You made me think you were better. That you had changed. That you were capable of changing. But you didn’t. And you aren’t. So fuck you….for everything you have ever done to me. Please don’t come back this time. No matter what is happening, or what happens to you, or your family, or Zulu, or wherever you are. Please leave me alone. Please stay so far away from me. I don’t care if I cross your mind. I don’t care if you see me in a bookstore or on the street walking to my car. Please for the love of all the hell you have put me through, please leave my life for good this time. I don’t ever want to cross paths with you again. I know who you are now. I finally figured it out. And I hate it. Every inch of it. I never deserved that. I was so good to you. To your family. You lied to my family. To my mom…the woman who loved you more than life even. How dare you…how dare you break someone like me.

How dare you.

[dimeadoesnt]

American Aviators headcanons in no particular order because @bugsarecool has given me the brainrot over them (pos)

Lt.Bites loves sniper. He is one of the few people that he will not bite on sight/contact. This is partially because of his general chill Vibe™️, but mostly because he gives the critter bits of jerky or granola, depends on what’s on hand. Soldier knew he was The One the first time Lt.Bites crawled into snipers arms and DIDNT start mailing him. I mean he knew before but that was a solidifying moment.

Soldier once planned an entire date based off of what he knew sniper liked. Unfortunately he knew sniper liked alone time so he more or less brought sniper to a room with a table set for one, sat him down, and left. A minute or so later he called Sniper who, looking out the window, saw Solly at a near identical table in the next building over. Sniper tried to get him to come back over but Soldier was just over the phone like ‘tell me about your day 🥰🥰🥰’

soldier snores like someone’s sawing a log. At first it frustrated sniper, and kept him up a decent portion of the night, but by now it’s like his white noise and he has a terrible time trying to go to sleep without it.

speaking of sleeping: neither of them are really a big/little spoon unless they feel particularly affectionate (or in need of holding/ being held). They just sort of fall into bed wherever and move around in their sleep until they’re lying on top of each other. It looks uncomfortable but they’re always well rested so

the first time sniper realized he liked soldier more than a friend was when he was able to laugh in front of him, unhindered and without inhibition. He kinda realized he doesn’t need to be on the defensive around Soldier. The man’s loyal to a fault, and would never try to intentionally, sincerely hurt him. Maybe a little rough-housing, a little teasing, but that’s always from affection.

Sniper tried to joke about drop bears once and it backfired. Now Soldier is on a quest to impress and woo his Aussie love by presenting to him the head of the meanest drop bear on the continent.

Neither of them are exactly experienced when it comes to relationships, not long term ones at least, so they’re both kinda feeling around blindly for how things should go. They TRY the usual couples stuff, but it usually goes something like

“hey do you want to go to a movie?”

”nah, can’t stand being in a dark room with loads of people.”

”thank god I hate doing nothing for that long. Do you want to see if you can shoot down a target on my rocket before it explodes instead?”

”I fucking love you”

Soldier finds snipers little hair swoop at the nape of his neck very cute and plays with it every chance he gets. Likewise, sniper loves it when Soldier grows his beard out a lil bit and will occasionally hide his razor in the morning so he has a nice little fuzz going by the end of the day

They’re kinda pacifying to each other. If Soldier is too worked up, sniper can just sorta put a hand on his shoulder and he’ll take it down a notch. If snipers particularly agitated soldier can hold his hand and he’ll begrudgingly lighten up.

[meggtheegg]

So, in honor of the one-year anniversary, I went and rewatched Episode 2, and there's one line that usually gets overlooked but really got me thinking, this time around...

Now, I know this whole exchange is very jokey and lighthearted, but it always felt odd to me that he points out the arm, rather than...his existence as a whole-ass supersoldier. Like, the arm is impressive, but it is...not the thing doing the most to make him capable in a fight.

And yet, that's what he points out. Thinking about it, the only times he even refers to himself as a supersoldier is when discussing the serum in a negative light (ie. when talking to Isaiah). A lot of other people bring it up to him, throughout the series, but he never gives them any sort of response. Usually, he just goes silent.

I saw a post earlier, talking about Bucky's behavior throughout the show, and the fact that, truthfully, he spends a large chunk of the series being a grade-a asshole to everyone he cares about. In the comments, most of the discussion that arose, both in his defense and condemning his behavior, discussed it through the lens of Steve Rogers. Honestly, Steve is at the center of most discussions of Bucky's mental state, and on the one hand, I get it. Most of his story, up to this point, has revolved entirely around Steve and their relationship, regardless of how you interpret it.

But I think that, in the case of TFATWS, pinning Bucky's conflict and behavior entirely on ManPainTM about the Steve Rogers-sized hole in his life really undercuts both his character arc and the story that the writers seemed to be trying to tell.

Not to mention, it completely disregards Sam's pain, when he is, realistically, the one who has the most right to be hurt by Steve's actions, considering he was kept in the dark and thrown this monumental responsibility without any consideration for his experience as a Black man, but that's probably something for people more eloquent than me to explore.

(Btw, this is not a defense of Bucky's actions, in the show; even he canonically admits he was being an asshole, and it's very important to acknowledge the level to which he consistently fucked up, throughout almost all of the series. This is just an analysis of why he did those things, because I think it's gone pretty largely unexplored/entirely linked to Steve/Stucky.)

The way I see it, Bucky's central conflict, here, is about two things:

1) His own self-image and the way that he relies entirely on other people to tell him who he is,

and

2) The level to which his trauma is linked directly to the supersoldier serum, and the tunnel-vision he gets as soon as it becomes a factor in anything

Regarding the first point, the show lays it out pretty clearly, and that's the one place where Steve is a real factor. Steve said that Bucky was good, despite the whole world (and his own beliefs) saying otherwise. So, he needs Steve to be right about Sam taking the shield. Because if Steve can be wrong about things, then maybe Bucky's self-hatred is warranted.

The general consensus in the fandom, at large, seems to be that the part of Bucky's personality that the serum enhanced most was his loyalty. That's what made him such a good choice for Hydra. The guy seems totally lost without someone he can follow around like a puppy-dog. He is entirely capable of taking charge; he basically called the shots on the battlefield until Steve showed up, if that one deleted scene from TFA is to be believed. But post-serum, he's constantly scrambling for someone else to tell him what to do. Even the decisions he makes on his own (breaking Zemo out, most notably) are ultimately about getting someone else to take the lead, after which he follows pretty much without question. Maybe part of this is left-over programming, but honestly, I think that's just Bucky. Especially now, the guy's loyal to a fault and insecure to the point of near-paralysis, when left to his own devices.

Onto the second point, and the one that this line really made me think about: Bucky is a character who refuses to acknowledge his own trauma. He veers his own much-needed therapy in the direction of "making amends" for things he didn't really do, because it's easier for him to reframe himself as a monster than to accept himself as a victim. He doesn't argue with the idea that Hydra used to be "his people," even though they were, objectively, his captors. That way of thinking is fairly out of the ordinary for the MCU. You wouldn't see Clint saying Loki was his teammate and New York was his fault, or the people of Westview calling Wanda their old friend and neighbor. Mind control in the Marvel Universe is usually acknowledged as such, but Bucky pretty consistently refuses to do so.

However, the second the supersoldier serum comes up, he, at least subconsciously, cannot let it become a factor in his life, again. It's associated with so much pain, fear, and loss. It's the central theme of all of his trauma--most of his experience in the war, his capture and torture at Azzano, his time as the Winter Soldier, the entirety of Civil War, his existence in the present-day. If not for the serum, he would have lived a normal life. No torture, no brainwashing, and maybe he'd have died in the war, but he'd have died as himself, knowing his family and best friend were safe at home and that he was giving his life for his country and dying a hero. And if he'd survived? He'd have always just been Bucky Barnes, that kid from Brooklyn who goes to science conventions and reads fantasy novels and goes dancing with pretty girls. There'd have been no Red Skull, no Captain America, no Winter Soldier.

So even for Bucky, even for a guy who flat-out refuses to face the trauma he's endured in the past 80 years or so, the serum is the breaking point. Yeah, he shows up to yell at Sam about the shield because of point number one, but until he realizes the Flag-Smashers are supersoldiers, he really does not take the mission seriously. He's cracking jokes and rolling his eyes and honestly treating it more like a little inconvenience than a serious mission. He references his metal arm in this scene, because he does not want to think about supersoldiers, even if the supersoldier in question is himself. Because the serum was a curse, and the vibranium arm was a gift. A gift from the people who he trusts and cares for the most.

Until there are supersoldiers. And suddenly, all of that, including his loyalty to Wakanda, goes out the window. Before the end of the day, he's already decided to break Zemo out of prison, because there is no longer anything of any importance, in his mind. Before the mission started, he asked Sam "what could be more important than [the shield]?" Now, he has an answer. All of his actions, from that point forward, have little to nothing to do with Steve Rogers and everything to do with the inescapable fact that the serum is the most terrifying, traumatic thing in the world, in his eyes. He tries to argue with Zemo that it didn't corrupt Steve, yes, but again, that just harkens back to point one and his need for Steve to be perfect and untouched by anything negative, because he's put all his self-worth eggs in that one basket. In every other moment, his entire focus is on destroying that serum, at all cost, the rest of the world be damned.

That's probably why he goes to Isaiah, honestly. When he said "there's more of you and me, out there," and Isaiah threw him and Sam out, he seemed genuinely surprised, even though he just barged into this man's house (who he didn't really know, let's be honest) to bring up a ridiculously horrific past that he's clearly trying to move on from. Because in his mind, the horror and trauma of the serum should naturally evoke a reaction of "fuck, shit, okay, drop everything, we need to put a stop to this, immediately." He's so lost in that mindset and unable to look at the situation objectively that he ends up hurting and screwing over a lot of people he cares about (or at least, doesn't want to bring any harm to.)

It isn't until Episode 5 that he actually steps back, looks at the situation from an outside perspective, and realizes the full extent of what he's been doing and how it's affected those around him. His relationship with his own trauma--constantly pushing it aside and treating himself as a villain, rather than a victim, until he physically cannot do that, anymore, and becomes obsessive to the point of complete tunnel-vision--is hurting him and everyone around him. And I think he realizes it, in that episode, because his behavior immediately starts changing for the better.

What we see in him, from there, is certainly not a full recovery, but it's the closest thing to healing we've seen from him, in the ten years he's been in the MCU. It doesn't excuse his actions, by any means, but it certainly is pointing him in the right direction, and I think it'll be really interesting to see where his story goes, moving forward, if Marvel chooses to continue it.

[mylifeisweirdok]

How would u rewrite Sam?

Well shit man you already saw my redesign lmao

Nah but seriously? There are 3 things i would change. 1 being her n tuck overlooked as much, 2 being used as a joke n stepping stone for danny, 3 I want her to really step into her characters history and development (cause redemption arcs are the bomb yes?), and 4 my personal headcanons of course.

~~~

1-the og trio

Ah yes, the three amigos, three peas in a pod, the three musketeers. Danny, Tucker, and Sam. They are my favorite characters to read about and personally? i ship them as poly, but thats the phanon trio. The canon trio aren't as defined as the phandom makes them out to be. Danny throughout the show is consistently a bamf, but he also kinda glances over his friends (just how many episodes had vital plot point being him taking advantage of his friends or having them take the downfall?) I would put Sam and Tucker in a much more prevalent role and really write out who they are as characters. We do of course have some already, from Tuck's Egyptian counterpart to Sam's dragon and plant forms, but we need to see them more as who they are. Just how many times can Tucker hack the government before he has to turn down plans cause he has a court hearing? How many protests can Sam drag the other two along to before they can quote the Miranda Rights by heart? What abandoned buildings do they explore outside of ghosty business (cause what Midwestern teen hasnt explored a corpse of a house)? Where do they dance to the latest underground music that matches dumpty humpty in feels? Give me their teenage shenanigans and who they are outside of ghosts.

2-the jokes

Sam is a really cool character to begin with; she's persistant and head strong, fights for her beliefs and friends, and she stands out in her town of Amity Park as one of the alt kids. Growing up she was an inspiration to kids like me who had nothing but the monotonous life that exists in Illinois, and it wasnt until i was older when i realized she was kinda made into a joke at some points. Namely being the ultra-recyclo-terian lifestyle in canon she has. Which is great, but at some point you gotta draw a line. She's been made a gimmick, something for people to laugh at cause she's basically vegan and that makes her different, more so than her outfits and pov from a money standpoint. Because the characters in the show brush her off, we pick up that being vegan is weird and not right but not left either. Its just, its setting a bad example for how we treat people who eat differently than the American standard. It dont matter what you eat at the end of the day. The writers kinda made it a part of her personality even though its not that big of a deal. Idk methinks that should be rewritten Heavily™️

3-who even Is Sam

Well, like i said earlier, she a headstrong, loyal to a fault, stubborn, goth character for better and for worse. Her character development was a good start. I liked how she was able to eventually reach a tenable toleration of the other characters like Paulina and Valerie (if im remembering correctly?). I liked how she was someone for kids to see and have in the back of their minds as someone to be like. However, parts of her character gets forgotten about too often; like she's jewish. Thats fucking cool as fuck. And when do they mention it? Offhandedly in a christmas episode, and the singular time we hear her grandmother say her nickname. Fuck it, I want her to celebrate Sukkot near halloween. I want to hear about the shenanigans that came with her bat mitzvah celebrations. What about Passover? What does she think of her relatives when they come over for The Good Food that comes with their feast after memoriam? Give me more jewish rep in general, but especially for Sam.

Aside from that, she needs more development in general. She was awesome to watch and even cooler when she ended up dating Danny at the end there, but she did Not receive nearly as much backlash for her choices as other did. Shes pretty hypocritical, and at the beginning thought herself much higher than the other characters. She did eventually cool down a bit but methinks she deserved a bit more arc there. Why didnt her and jazz have a verbal match in Girls Night Out, when Sam said Jazz didnt know how to handle ghosts? Why didnt her european conquest get brought up more after the fact, for teasing or for reasons why they shouldnt do X bad idea? Why was her narrative foil vilified for her femininity, and Sam's "not like the others" stereotype upheld for being better? She had faults, her character as written and her choices as played out. These faults werent emphasized nearly as much as they shoulda been.

4-personal headcannons

There are many things i like that the phandom itself has come up with, from the whole "ghosty weed parent means ghosty weed sam" to her eventual flower shop in amity park; dont forget her polycule of idiots, be that the trio or defect quartet. There are the big things like where she ends up in early adulthood, to smaller things like her favorite coffee being from a cat cafe she had exactly one (1) time, but there are things the phandom hasn't come up with, or at least not to my knowledge. (If you saw my character redesign, you might know whats coming)

Have you thought of punk Sam, instead of goth? What about wanderer Sam? What about a crustpunk trainhopping Sam, who rallies protestors in cities with corrupt police, who swigs bootheel moonshine she got from a rural grandma, who dances jigs in the Appalachias, who traveled when the ghosts finally calmed down a bit? Just imagine a Sam that has such a huge social media presence but is also a figurative ghost cause the average person cant travel like she does; there are communities out there who follow her and assumes she's a cryptid who's had it up to here with humanity (and these people don't even know about the Ghosts, the real ones).

I think she likes tattoos better than piercings cause a continuous steady burn is easier to sit through than a spike of metal. I think she despises kudzu (the plant) and sets it on fire if she sees a patch of it (controlled burning for local wildlife). I think she carries a small mossball from the early 2000s thats somehow still alive even tho shes forgotten and lost it twelve times over. I think, before she left for the rails, when her ma would drag her to dinner parties, she would talk the talk and walk the walk til the very end of the night, then she would call out the host on their latest exploitation and tell them the recordings she got at the party would be sold to the highest bidder in the morning. I think she'd bring home a stray kitten she found and name it fy, the yiddish word for fuck. I think she'd make hot vanilla instead of hot chocolate (fr tho if anyone needs a hot vanilla recipe i gotchu just hmu).

When interacting with teachers, she'd be the favorite until you got to history class; you'd leave that class with more understanding of how horrible america has been than you would ever think was possible in Illinois. The English department loves her and her takes on classics ("why read to kill a mockingbird and get a white savior complex when you could read the hate you give and get a much more realistic and accurate look at racism in modern america? Racism never died, so read the stuff you find more relatable. Also atticus Sucked Ass ™️").

Shes a morning person sure, but also a gym rat; shes there at 4am, running a mile and rowing for an hour while chugging orange juice and green supplements and youre in bed sleeping. She says hello to the entryway even if no ones there to hear it, she says not today to the hallway closet, she knocks twice on her window cause that's her routine when she gets home from school.

Theres so many small bits n bobs that i have for her i forget them right now. Overall shes an awesome character, just needs some touching ups. (Also i hope this is coherent for you, I've been at work since noon and got off just before midnight, sorry if it isnt ill edit in the morning :) )

What about yall? How would you rewrite her?

[megan-is-mia]

Could I ask for Peacock Vil with #209? Like he's in his mating season and she is rejecting all his advances.

(This one is kind of long sorry) 209. “The way you say my name feel so fucking good…keep saying it.” (Yandere! Peacock Vil Schoenheit x Fem! S/o) (WARNING NSFW AND NON-CON AHEAD!)

Ever since she was a young girl (Y/n) had known what her future would be. Born to a concubine in the Peacock King’s harem there was only one fate open to her: to become a harem-girl like her mother before her and serve her master obediently. This fact had been drilled into her since toddlerhood. Yet there was something that gave her hope and kept her from fully accepting her destiny. She had a special friend, a secret friend who lived in the castle as well. They’d never seen each other’s faces but spoke to one another every day through a hole in the wall between the two grand gardens of the palace. Her friend called themself Scélérat, and they loved two things: knowledge and beauty. Each day they would teach (Y/n) new things they’d learned from the books in the library.

With every scrap of knowledge (Y/n) gained she found new strength in herself. When she was with Scélérat she wasn’t just a lowly harem girl, she was a person who mattered in this world. Yet as the years went by things began to change, she began to be plagued with more and more duties to make her into the ideal concubine. Even worse the Peacock King’s son Vil demanded that she become his personal servant and tend to him daily.

“(Y/n) why do you stand so far from my side? Come closer darling I won’t bite” Vil cooed as he lounged back on the chaise longue and gestured for the servant to come closer. (Y/n) grit her teeth but obeyed, she despised the peacock-man and his father and everything they stood for. If it wasn’t for the king and the prince, she and her mother would not be bound to a life of sexual servitude.

Vil pulled (Y/n) down into his lap as she came closer, she had grown more beautiful than he could ever have hoped for. He still remembered with total clarity when he’d first met her, back when they were children still innocent of heart. She’d been crying in the garden and he’d spoken to her through the wall. (Y/n) had spilled out her sorrows to him and he felt his heartache for the first time in his life.

He hadn’t told her his name then, for that would have ruined everything. To her, he would be Scélérat, someone she could always depend on to be there for her and lift her up. But as time has gone by their meetings had grown shorter and less frequent, it was not her fault that she wasn’t able to meet him. (Y/n) was blooming into a beautiful young woman and therefore she had to know her duties as a concubine.

That didn’t mean he would let her slip away from him. Sure for now she may not love him as Prince Vil, but he would win her yet. He was sure of it, she had no choice in the matter. When he became king he would dismiss most of the harem that his father had amassed. Of course, he would make sure the concubines went to good homes but he would not need so many women to keep him happy. The only woman he needed to be happy was (Y/n), she would be his queen in all but name. He wished he could make her queen proper but he knew patience would be key to being successful in his endeavors. If he gave her that power before he knew for certain that she was loyal to him everything could go down in flames. Vil could not let the love in his heart cloud his judgment on the matter.

(Y/n) hated how intimately the prince touched her. His hands made her skin crawl and she felt like she needed to scrub her skin clean after every encounter with him. The other harem girls gossiped that she must be his favorite since she was the only girl he’d ever called to his chambers. However, she did not care whether or not she was the prince’s favorite for she would never care for him.

For her heart already belonged to another, her beloved Scélérat, yes they were her beloved. Though she had never had the courage to tell them of her feelings for them and now she was unlikely to ever have the chance to tell them with the prince hoarding her time and body. The only relief she had was the fact the prince and king’s mating season would soon start and none would be allowed near their rooms nor them. Perhaps in this downtime (Y/n) would gain from the prince’s season she’d be able to speak to Scélérat again and set things straight. However, until the season started she would be quite busy with Prince Vil. In the week leading up to his mating season, the prince began acting strangely towards her. One could almost call it affectionate, the way he spoke to her and tried to shower her in gifts of clothes and jewelry. “He must be trying to court you” another harem girl suggested when (Y/n) spoke of her concerns one evening. “The gift-giving, the affectionate words, the only sensible explanation is that his more bestial brain is piloting and he wants you to be his mate” she added making (Y/n) cringe with disgust. Her? The prince’s mate? No way! There was no way she would ever become the prince’s mate!

Yet despite her unwillingness, she found herself being locked in with the prince on the day his rut started. At first, he seemed totally unaware of her presence in the room, jerking furiously on his bed and grunting in a low voice. This was a side of Vil she’d never seen before, who was this unrefined creature unable to think of anything but sex? She could almost feel pity for him, almost.

(Y/n) was so deep in her thoughts that she didn’t even notice when the prince had given up trying to pleasure himself and was creeping towards her. Suddenly she found herself being pulled and forced down on the bed as Vil climbed atop of her with a lecherous grin. (Y/n) grimaced and tried to kick him off even as he leaned down to capture her lips in a hungry kiss and ran his hands down her sides.

“Finally, I have you where I want you… I’ve been waiting for this day for years” Vil said in a coo as he pulled away from the kiss. “Ever since we were young I knew you were the one for me my darling” he added leaning in for another kiss. (Y/n) turned her head away confused by the prince’s words. “What… What are you talking about! You aren’t making any sense!” she said, trying to kick him again. “Even when we’re this close to one another you still don’t recognize me? You cannot recognize your oldest friend?” the prince said, leaning down to speak in (Y/n)’s ear. “Your dear Scélérat sits before you and yet you do not see?” he whispered before pressing a kiss to her ear. This revelation froze (Y/n) to her core, the prince… he was the one she’d loved for so long? Impossible! She could not accept, she would not accept this to be true!

“I don’t believe you! You must be lying! Scélérat is a good person, unlike you! He would never let me remain a harem girl if he had the power to free me like you do!” (Y/n) said in a hiss. “Oh I have every intention of freeing you, just not yet… first I must become king so I can make you my wife” Vil said nuzzling the young woman playfully. “But such serious matters can wait until another day, let us enjoy each other’s company” he concluded.

(Y/n) knew exactly what he meant by “enjoy each other’s company” and she wanted none of it. She tried to push him away again even as he kissed down her front, yanking her top down to lavish her breasts with attention. (Y/n) had never had the curiosity to try touching herself in such a matter and as such her body jolted with the new sensations Vil forced upon her with his mouth and hands.

“You saved yourself for me didn’t you darling?” the peacock-man said with a croon, his hands darting further down (Y/n)’s body to run down her thighs. “I wish I had the patience to wait until our wedding night to do this… but I suppose there really is nothing wrong with getting started on making an heir right?” he mused to himself as the young woman below him felt her blood run cold. Her? Carry the prince’s heir? She couldn’t think of many things worse than bearing a child for this man! Perhaps she could stop him from doing this tonight? Maybe she could spare herself such a fate by taking command now? (Y/n) reached down clumsily searching for the prince’s cock and taking it firmly in her grip. Without hesitation, she began jerking him off quickly as he began to buck into her hold. “Mmmph fuck that feels so good” Vil said, his tail feathers spreading behind him as he fucked himself into the girl’s fist and let his head lol back in pleasure. It didn’t take long for him to cum messily onto (Y/n)’s body with a weak grin. “That was delightful darling, now allow me to return the favor” the prince said situating himself between the girl’s thighs. He pulled her undergarments aside before pressing his mouth to her cunt. This was not what she had wanted to have happen! She’d touched him hoping that it would be enough to please him so he wouldn’t impregnate her. He wasn’t supposed to try and return the favor of pleasuring! (Y/n) weakly kicked at the prince as he sucked on her clit and drove his tongue deep into her cunt. It felt like he was trying to clean her insides out with his mouth and she could feel her eyes rolling back in her skull. “P-puh-prince Vil!” (Y/n) squealed desperately and to her surprise, the peacock-man stopped. “The way you say my name feel so fucking good…keep saying it” the prince groaned out before he began tongue-fucking her again. It didn’t take long until the harem girl was seeing white and cumming all over Vil’s face. He licked up her release greedily before spreading her legs and scooting so his cock brushed against her pussy.

“I’ll try to be gentle, considering this is your first time… but I can't promise I won’t lose control” Vil cooed before starting to sink into (Y/n)’s depths. It didn’t take much before the young woman was squirming with discomfort. The prince was so big compared to her and his cock was just as proportionally big. The kisses that he pressed to her face did nothing to ease the pain he was causing her at this moment. “Hold on for me darling… I just need to get all the way in and then I'll make you feel really good” the prince promised. He continued to sink into her, stretching her like she’d never been stretched before. His fingers teased her clit made it almost bearable but still it wasnt enough to take the pain away. Finally, Vil was all the way in and let out a long gasp. He nuzzled (Y/n)’s shoulder before kissing it.

“You feel so tight around me… it feels amazing… I'm going to make you feel amazing too” the peacock-man said, his tail feathers shaking with delight. He pulled back a little bit before slamming back into (Y/n) with a grunt. He repeated this action over and over again each time striking a spot deep inside the harem girl’s cunt that made her see stars and moan for him like he wanted. Gradually Vil’s movements got faster and faster, gripping the bedframe as he fucked (Y/n) with all his might. The young woman came so many times yet the prince showed no signs of wearing out despite the many times he had also cum as he pounded her into the bed. “I’m gonna plant an entire nest in your womb darling… you’ll like that won’t you? Soon you’ll be a wife, a mother, and a queen just like you deserve…” THE END

[astro-rain]

delicate; b.barnes

chapter sixteen — “aftermath”

delicate masterlist

word count: 1.5k

synopsis: steve finds bucky a bit stressed and acting (only slightly) neurotic. he aims to uncover the source of his best friend’s conflict... and he’s not surprised at the answer.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

[A/N:] ‘doll dizzy’ is 40’s slang for “a boy who is crazy about girls” also this is kind of a filler chapter, sorry :(

The walk back to his living quarters was hazy and slow. His mind went back and forth from scattered to blank, in complete disbelief that what just happened happened. It was surreal; it almost felt like it didn't happen.

It wasn't... supposed to happen. They were supposed to be friends. Conceptually he knew this, but then she was there and she was so close and her hands were on him and she was saying such sweet, gentle things.

Briefly, so Bucky touched his lips lightly with the pads of his index and middle finger. If he focused hard enough, he could still feel it, feel her. Before he could dig himself another grave, the rational part of his brain yanked him back to reality.

Did he ruin everything? After all, it was him that leaned in this time. How different would they be from the last time the two of them got too close? The rumination would've continued, but the voice of a blonde super soldier interrupted his thoughts.

"Buck, you day drinkin' now?" Steve called, jokingly.

"What?"

"You look drunk."

Post fuck up delirium? He bet he looked like an idiot. To be honest, he felt a little inebriated after what he just experienced.

"I can't get drunk."

"Yeah, that's why I'm confused."

"I just..." he trailed off, thinking of an excuse, "was on a run. That's all."

As Bucky walked up to him, he could more clearly see the confusion on Steve's face.

"In those clothes?"

"...yes."

"Whatever you say, pal..."

Bucky didn't have time for so many questions! He didn't even have time to think; he had no idea what he was going to do, what was going to happen. Then Steve started talking again.

"Hey, Sam and I were going to-"

"I gotta go," Bucky interrupted, needing to find someplace to suffer through his thoughts.

"Buck-"

"I'll see ya later."

From there, he left his best friend more confused than when he found him.

—

Bucky paced around his room, his worried, worried mind running in circles. In the heat of the moment, she said she wouldn't leave, but how could she not? And what the fuck was transference? Was that what was actually happening? Even if it was, how could she condone his actions? There was no way she could stay after that! Right?

The rest of the session was so awkward and they left things in such a weird place and Bucky was so confused but also feeling all sorts of other things and-

"Bucky."

He turned to see Steve march through the entryway with a kind of glorious purpose only Steve Rogers seemed to have.

He sighed. "What do you need?"

"What is up with you, man?"

"What?"

"What's up with you? You're acting weird."

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are. Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong!"

"You're a terrible liar," he deadpanned with a hint of a smile.

"I'm actually a good liar. I just... got a lot on my mind, okay? So, you can go be a worryin' geezer somewhere else. I'll be just fine."

"Geezer? Did you forget that you're literally older than me?"

"Shut up," Bucky all but pouted, too frazzled to muster up some creative banter. "Punk."

"Just tell me what's wrong, ya jerk."

He knew Steve wouldn't budge. At first he thought, stubborn ass. But then, he remembered how Y/N said Steve's stubbornness was something she really respected about him.

Bucky sighed, giving in and slouching into a chair near his bed. "It's Y/N."

"The... therapist?"

"Yes. The therapist."

"What about her? Did she do something? Is this another Zemo situation?"

Steve's voice got more defensive with each word. Like he was ready to kick someone's ass if need be. Steve Rogers: loyal to a fault. What else is new?

"No! No, nothing like that. Things are just... kinda complicated..."

"Complicated how?"

Yeah, how exactly was he supposed to explain this part? He didn't want to reveal any details and get her fired. Obviously. Steve wouldn't tell anyone anything that would get Bucky in trouble. That much he knew. But with Y/N, he wasn't sure. He decided to play it safe, proving that he was, in fact, a good liar. Or, at least a good only-tell-certain-parts-of-the-truth-er.

"Complicated like she might leave."

"Why would she leave? Are you guys done with the therapy?"

"Not exactly. It's... things between us are... odd."

"Odd?" Steve asked, clearly wanting some kind of elaboration.

"Yes," Bucky said curtly, giving him nothing of the sorts.

Steve stared at him for a moment, and it looked like he was trying to solve a math problem in his head. Bucky almost laughed.

"Buck, you didn't..."

"Didn't what?!"

"She's your therapist!" he exclaimed, although he didn't look very upset. More so surprised.

Now Bucky was starting to lose his composure. "What are you talking about?!"

"Well, I guess you really are getting back your old self because this is probably what he would do."

Did he just get called a man slut?

"What is that supposed to mean?" he crossed his arms.

"You've always been... what'd we used to call it? 'Doll dizzy?' Yeah. It's making a reappearance."

"I-..." Bucky exasperated.

Okay, maybe he was a little doll dizzy back when he was a kid, but now? Certainly not now. That's ridiculous.

"What? You're gonna look at me and you're gonna tell me that I'm wrong?"

"What exactly are you implying?"

"Are you..." he stuttered, slightly embarrassed, thinking of how to choose his words, "being intimate... with your therapist?"

If he wasn't preoccupied with worrying about his psychologist leaving, he might have laughed at Steve's awkwardness.

"What! No! It's not like that!" He felt flustered.

Steve laughed. He fucking laughed. "Then what?"

Bucky rubbed his eyes, groaning in annoyance. "We're... just friends."

Well, they were supposed to be. He's not sure what they were now... or what was going to happen. Beforehand, any cursed feelings he had were just that: feelings. They were in the back of his mind, barely making themselves conscious long enough to be known, long enough for him to be fully aware of them. But now, he felt like an exposed nerve, feeling all too much too fast.

"Just friends?" he raised his brows in disbelief.

"Yeah, just... yeah..."

"I think you guys look at each other a little too long to be just friends..."

Bucky scoffed. "What does that even mean?"

"I saw you two at the bonfire."

"Okay? Whatdya want, a trophy?"

"Yeah, yeah. And whenever she wasn't looking at you, you were gawkin' at her."

"I don't gawk," he rolled his eyes.

"Oh, but you do."

"And since when are you tracking everyone's eye movements?"

"You were subtle, I'll give you that. But I know ya, Buck. And I'm observant."

"Yeah, and I'm screwed."

"Why?"

"'Cause she's probably gonna leave now. I mean, she said she didn't have to, but she'll probably think everything over and end up leaving."

"What, 'cause you looked at her?"

"No, 'cause I kissed her!"

A smile grew on Steve's face. "I knew it."

Once more, Bucky let out a loud and annoyed groan of frustration. "Man, I fucked up. I had a good thing going for me... god damn transference... shit."

"Transference?"

"It's a thing she told me about, it's like... apparently my feelings about something else get transferred to her, so I don't really feel that way about her, but it seems like I do... I think."

"That's... a thing?"

"Apparently- I don't know," Bucky flailed his hands, beginning to pace again. "That's what she told me at least."

"Well... did she kiss you back?"

Bucky stopped moving.

"She did..." he said, while realizing that, yes, she actually did kiss him back and shocked that she... actually kissed him back.

He guessed his mind hadn't caught up to him yet. He hadn't analyzed their actions and each physical change between them. He guessed he was still stuck in that moment. In his head, they were still kissing.

"That's a good sign... right?" Steve shrugged.

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, brain all but malfunctioning. "I don't know what it is. I don't know anything anymore. I'm a crummy patient..."

"Oh, come on. What happened to Brooklyn's ladies man?"

"He fell off a train."

Steve looked only slightly mortified, but it made Bucky laugh. Comedic catharsis seemed to ease the tension in his chest.

"Look," Bucky started, "she's like the best thing that's happened to me in a long time. And I think I might've ruined it. I just want things to be okay with us... I don't want her to leave."

"Did you talk to her about it?"

"No, we ended the session early 'cause of me. It was... awkward after."

"Well, go talk to her then!"

"I can't, I just left. I wanna at least give her some space."

"You didn't seem to care about space earlier," Steve teased.

Bucky smacked his best friend's arm. "Would you cut it out!"

"Wait, but how did it happen? Like did you just leap up and grab her face? How did it go down?"

"I'm gonna kill you."

"I thought I was the wing man! I need details!"

Bucky turned. "Oh yeah, wingman? How's Sharon?"

Steve shut up.

delicate taglist: @bakugouswh0r3 @thefridgeismybestie @strivingforelegance @ilovespideyyy @xpurpleglitter @bluelakeee @darkacademic2 @nickkie1129 @eclipsedplanet @paradisedixon @crazy-beautiful @coffee--writes @lilithknight1111 @buckybarnesishot310 @softladyhours @alwayssandy @quxxnxfhxll @those-sea-green-eyes @hero-ically @devilswaldorf @cc13723things @maravderofthephoenix @avengersgirllorianna @cataves @thatbitchsposts @talktomeaboutthestars @surrealpsycho @headheartbellarke @bubbly-moonwarrior @bluemoon-icecream @buckeyecreates

[drxwsyni]

The Only One︱Yandere Dabi x f!Reader

Synopsis: Friends with benefits aren’t supposed to be exclusive, but Dabi thinks otherwise. Too bad he waited until you fucked up to tell you that.

a/n: So uhhh y’all can thank @hawks-senseis for the inspo on this oneshot. Here’s where the idea came from if you want more context.

Hero Camp Bingo prompt: Hair pulling

@bnhabookclub weekly nsfw prompt: “Touch yourself.”

Bingo Masterlist 

Warnings: Heavy dubcon/noncon, swearing, coercion, violence, injury, forced voyeurism, oral (giving), threats of murder, unprotected sex, degradation, hair pulling, light choking, spanking, gen. yan. themes, ambiguous ending (this one’s a doozy, PLEASE do not read this if the warnings make you uncomfortable)

6.5k words

_____

It felt good to get away from him―a certain pride to be had in the act of unspoken disobedience.

You should feel proud, he had it coming after all. Dabi might be a good mentor for passing souls heading down the path of corruption, like yourself, and he was an even better fuck―but that doesn’t mean he reserves the right to treat you like second-hand garbage.

No amount of wisdom from a seasoned villain or mind blowing sex could excuse his actions.

Dabi had a tendency to be lazy during all the worst moments. Avoiding the necessary like it was the plague, offering vague non-committal responses―sometimes not even that. He didn’t like answers that could make him liable, and so he never gave them to you.

When it came to the terms of your more intimate relationship, he didn’t care to set any ground rules. On many occasions you tried to pry an opinion out of him, but the most you got were heated glares and scoldings that didn’t assist you in understanding his preferences. Dabi never expressed concern over the level of exclusiveness the two of you were on.

So, you assumed he didn’t care.

Which made it all the more easy to disregard him when you couldn’t stand the thought of being around the flame user. If he wanted to be moody and take his frustrations out on you, that was up to him. But he shouldn’t expect you to come loyally crawling back when you needed to release some pent up energy.

Dabi would probably expect it though. Too bad for him.

You were still on a high, endorphins coursing steadily through your system. Part of you was bothered that even after you’d disregarded Dabi’s questionable feelings over you seeking others to fulfill your needs, you still found yourself thinking of him after the deed was done. Because as you lay in bed, a fellow villain in the works just about completely passed out next to you, your mind still drifted to Dabi.

You cursed yourself for the internal betrayal.

It only made you more pissed at the arsonist. Here you were, trying to enjoy yourself completely free of his mindless torment, and yet you still thought of him. Did he feel the same levels of distress as you did over such a menial thing?

Honestly, you doubted it. Dabi’s carefree attitude probably wouldn’t allow him a second thought towards your comfort. But maybe, under that tough exterior was a man who might actually give a damn about whatever the two of you have going on.

Unfortunately, his recent behaviour made you unable to sympathize. He didn’t deserve your energy that was put into thoughtful concerns and ‘what ifs’ over unspoken realities. What he did deserve was something to make him feel as uneasy as you did. It was worth a shot―to poke the bear.

Determinedly, you swiped your phone from the nightstand next to you, the warm glow of the lamp lightly illuminating your side of the bed. It was late, but you knew all too well about Dabi’s unhealthy sleeping habits, along with the other self-destructive tendencies you had to put up with many times before.

With a few taps on the smooth touchscreen, his contact was pulled up, and subsequently the ongoing conversation.

You were an independent woman, and he needed to know that. It wouldn’t surprise you if Dabi thought he had you wrapped around his finger. So, in this state of post-sex bliss, it only seemed right to let him know just what he was missing.

Well...sort of.

It was probably safer to keep the details of your night vague, for the sake of both yourself and the now slumbering individual next to you. A non-explicit, but still concrete in meaning message.

< How do you feel about the thought of me with someone else?

…

You figured he’d be up at this hour. And especially given the state of your relationship, you expected him to respond immediately. He might be a moody little bitch but he was almost always down to hook up.

But there was nothing.

Semi-defeated, you threw your head back against the flat pillow. Fucking typical.

Your phone buzzed in the light grip your hand held on it.

> i’d probably fuck you infront of them and then kill them.

Just slightly, your eyes widened at the message, an unexpected feeling of anxiety pitting in your stomach.

...Oh.

Dabi could be crude...so now was just him doing what he does best, right? Well, if he suddenly had such a strong opinion, then why shouldn’t you give him a taste of his own medicine?

Act like him―like you don’t care. That’ll rile him up.

< Yeah, okay…

You waited for a response in anticipation. It was petty, but you wanted so badly to make him hurt the way you did. Dabi never gave a shit about you enough to offer any form of permanency, or commitment to preserving your feelings. Realistically, you shouldn’t be so torn up over a guy who is that careless.

But as you lay in bed, eyes trained on the artificially glowing screen, you couldn’t help the sinking feeling in your chest from growing.

The text showed, ‘read 1:40 AM.’

And so, you could only resign yourself to fate.

_____

Dabi couldn’t technically blame you for your behaviour―but he was going to regardless.

While he never came out and said he was bothered by your spur of the moment, mixed-message text, you could tell that you’d struck a nerve. And now you were starting to regret it, for the most part.

Dabi didn’t get angry in the same ways a lot of people did. He didn’t curse anyone out, or make a scene out of putting someone in their place. No―he was silent with it.

From the time he’d spent accompanying you on missions, you slowly picked up on his habit for chatter amidst the fighting. Relentlessly taunting the enemy before burning them to a crisp, with a stretched grin on his face the whole time. Dabi knew his strengths usually tended to outmatch his opponents, so he grew cocky.

You hated him for it, but now you wished those teasing remarks he’d throw around the battlefield were still a thing of the present.

Dabi didn’t need to use words to show just how much your surprise text ended up irking him. The unbridled violence, burning any threat in sight that got close to either of you without so much as a hint of hesitation to think about his actions told you all that you needed to know.

He didn’t say anything outside of the few worded offers of instructions during your brief outings. And even then, Dabi was uncharacteristically cold. Not that he didn’t always have a certain air of harsh sternness, but throughout it persisted a distinct playfulness. Something that suggested his arsonistic behaviour was amusing to a degree.

And now it boiled down to destroying anything and everything without batting an eye, with a look that could kill cemented into his features the whole time.

It was a mistake.

With each passing second spent in the heavy silence that was his presence, your resolve to stay proud of making him feel for you was crumbling into ash. The tension remained palpable, and some deep fury inside of him was practically buzzing off of his being.

So when he called you two weeks after the incident, you figured he was ready to tell you to fuck on out of his life. It would be better than the seething rage he quite clearly felt whenever you were near him. An act of mercy, so to speak. You still had potential as an upcoming villain, so perhaps he didn’t want to see all his hard work go to waste.

But then he invited you over.

Dabi almost had to repeat himself as you failed to comprehend his words for a moment. He wanted to apologize. In person, no less. To make up for his shitty behaviour, a result of something that wasn’t even your fault.

Surely you could spare him the time of day, or rather night, to hear the poor guy out?

You agreed.

But your gut feeling told you to run in the opposite direction and never stop.

Turns out, Dabi really did have you wrapped around his finger. Because despite that sinking feeling that just got worse and worse with every step in the direction of his place, you kept going. The voice in the back of your head screaming at you, telling you that something was wrong. That it’s Dabi you’re talking about, and he’d never just admit to being at fault―it was never offered the spotlight in your consciousness.

Because even though the two of you weren’t exclusive, what happened two weeks ago was the first time you were ever with another person like that. Dabi was your first, he taught you everything you wanted to know. But even then, as someone who held such an important place in your life, he couldn’t find it in himself to offer you anything more than those passing nights satiating each other’s carnal desires.

That’s why you moved forward. Hoping that this would be the turning point. That you’d finally be free from his vague answers that left you more unsatisfied than before you even asked them. You didn’t need his permission to be with other people, but you had a strange sense of loyalty to him for showing you the ropes.

What you wanted now was for him to admit that whatever was going on between you, it wasn’t anything more than friends with benefits. He was your mentor, and occasionally you’d fuck on the side. But that was it. Whatever this ‘loyalty’ was, it wasn’t enough to warrant his treatment towards you.

You needed to hear him admit that what he said was wrong, and that like you suspected, he was just too lazy to give you a concrete answer over whether or not he cared about your life outside of him.

In a last ditch effort to calm the nerves that were intrusively firing off in opposition against what you were about to do, you took a deep breath before knocking on his door.

Dabi eventually greeted you, leaning against its frame with eyes trailing up and down your form. “Glad you came.”

He was wearing only a pair of black sweatpants, putting the scars adorning his arms and chest on full display. The metal staples glinted in the cold lighting emitting behind him, and you did your best not to stare at the entrancing sight.

Just get what you came here for. An apology. An explanation. The truth.

You offered a small side smile, looking past him into the dimly lit expanse of his home. “I did. Can we get this over with please?”

He gave pause for a moment, before pushing off the door frame, stepping to the side and gesturing with his hand for you to enter.

Unspoken, you stepped through the threshold, trying to maintain a distance between your bodies as you slipped past him. Now inside, you noted how much warmer it was than the frigid nighttime air. Dabi always ran a little hotter than most people―naturally. Only now you could really appreciate it for what it was worth, wondering if he even needed heating in the colder months of the year.

Your body tensed at the lowness of his voice behind you, catching you off guard. “Before I say anything...there’s something I wanna show you, if that’s alright.”

You turned to face the flame user, quirking a brow at his characteristically vague offer. “I guess that depends, what is it?”

Like the time you spent on the way here, a distant feeling of dread settled in the back of your mind. A somewhat playful smirk crept across Dabi’s face, lightly tugging at the staples keeping his skin together. “Well, if I told you then it would ruin the surprise. You’ll like it, I promise.”

...

You didn’t trust him.

But, that didn’t mean your emotional state could afford to deny him. You wanted to get what you came here for and then get the hell out. If that meant some momentary setback, then so be it.

You gave the scarred man an inquisitive scowl, before lightly shrugging your shoulders in compliance.

That’s all the confirmation Dabi needed, as he began stalking to the back of the living space without another word. And if his back wasn’t turned as you trailed behind him, you’d be able to see the small grin just barely ghosting his lips.

The door to his bedroom creaked open as he pushed against it, only a dim light from a lamp spewing out. Dabi stepped aside, “After you.”

Once again, you regarded him with a sceptical look. It wasn’t the first time he’d acted in such a way, the man being generally shrouded in mystery. Yet, as he waited patiently for you to see whatever he had prepared, those alarms in the back of your head felt deafening.

With a deep sigh, you carefully stepped into the bedroom. And as soon as you were past that threshold, you stopped dead in your tracks.

It was him. Tied to a chair, gagged and sporting a painful looking black eye―the man from two weeks ago. You almost forgot his face, like yourself a budding villain only seen in passing. But you were positive it was him, shaking, scared, and wide-eyed for the flame user behind you.

Somehow, Dabi managed to find the now unfortunate soul you slept with instead of him, and as the door to the bedroom shut, a click of a lock falling into place under a key, the weight of the situation crashed down upon.

Your quirk isn’t offensive, nor defensive. It’s support class, and entirely useless now.

With a turn of your head, you saw Dabi pocketing a small key, a devilish smirk plastered across his face. As for you, such emotions never came.

“What the hell is this? Why is he here?”

Without acknowledging your distressed questioning, Dabi walked past you and towards the man now struggling against the bindings. “You wouldn’t believe the mouth on this guy, doll.” A little too aggressively, Dabi rested his hands atop the man’s shoulders, instantly stilling him. “Told me all about the fun the two of you had.”

Your eyes rested on the coldness of his, that gaze lingering with a dangerous amusement.

“Dabi...what’s this about?”

In truth, your intuition had already led you to the likely conclusion of this ‘surprise’ of his. But the cruelty of it all, the unexpectedness, had you praying it would play out in any other way than you were predicting.

Dabi’s stare drifted, taking in your still unmoving form, regarding you up and down before those cerulean eyes landed on yours again.

It was almost a sneer, laughing slightly at your disbelief. “You really don’t know how badly you fucked up, do you?”

And just like that, you felt the blood drain from your face. It was never your place to decide what he was and wasn’t comfortable with, even if it went against your own boundaries. With the meaning of his words dawning on you, it was clear that his long held silence in the matter should’ve been enough to sway you against seeking others.

All that was left to do was reason with him, and hope you and the man tied down would make it out of this alive.

With a shaky breath, you forced the words out of your system. “We’re not exclusive. This is taking things way too far, and he doesn’t deserve to be roped into your shit.”

Dabi lightly drummed a finger against the man’s shoulder, head tilting at your claims. “Tell me, have I ever once said you could go around fucking other guys?”

You swallowed nervously, shifting uneasily under his focused glare. “...Well no, but―”

“Then what the fuck were you doing whoring yourself out to him, huh?”

The room was completely silent, save for the heavy breathing of the terrified man, and the sound of your hammering heart reverberating in your skull. You flinched at his words. It hurt, when Dabi knew very well that he was the only man you’d been with, aside from this one time fling, an issue that was being blown way out of proportion.

He continued before you could give an explanation, voice low, eyes narrowed and piercing. “I should just kill him right here and now for touching you. Bet the fucker would deserve it anyways.”

Honestly, you didn’t think the feeling of your heart dropping in your chest could feel any more intense. But it did, and the tears welling and threatening to spill down your cheeks could attest to it.

“...You don’t mean that.”

Dabi’s lips pulled into a sinister smile, putting tension on the staples adorning his face. You weren’t sure if it was the look he gave you, or the words that followed which frightened you more.

“Oh, you know that I do, sweets. But...since I’m so forgiving, I thought I’d let you earn his freedom instead.”

Not a sound was to be heard as you processed his words. An offer so vague, but dreadfully explicit at the same time.

Your voice was quiet, barely audible. “How?”

Somehow, that horrid grin grew wider. “You care about him, right? So...you should be willing to do whatever it takes to keep him alive.”

At this point your nails were digging painfully into the skin of your palms, being the only thing grounding your racing thoughts. Reluctantly, you responded. “What do you want from me?”

If you didn’t know any better, you could’ve sworn he waited to reply for dramatic effect alone. He should know what he wants, otherwise nothing would be playing out so smoothly for him.

“Strip.”

Your gaze flitted to the still restrained man, looking just as appalled as you. Dabi looked everything but the sort though, still immensely enjoying the reactions you so honestly gave.

“I―I’m not doing that in front of the both of you.”

At your words, Dabi simply shrugged, an expression of casualness crossing his features. “Suit yourself.”

And just like that, his hand gripped the back of the man’s neck, and in the dim lighting of the room you could see a blue luminance come from his palm. There was an agonizing shriek, but it was muffled by the cloth gag still nestled firmly in the guy’s mouth.

Your body acted before you could think through the actions. “WAIT!”

Some of the distance between the three of you had been closed, you now at the foot of the bed where they were both facing. Dabi ceased his actions, seeming greatly pleased with your frantic and pleading state.

There was a pause, and his hand just barely pulled back.

“You know what to do.”

With your lower lip slightly quivering, you stayed motionless, inwardly praying he’d change his mind. But that change never came, and instead it was the familiar flame in the palm of his hand, mere centimeters away from skin.

“Alright! Alright…” With raised hands, you watched as Dabi went back to gripping the man’s shoulder. And so, with shaky movements, you fumbled with the fabric of your clothing. Your shirt was pulled up across your body, maybe even a little hurriedly.

Of course, Dabi would have none of your rushed intentions. “Ah-ahh. Nice and slow now, princess. Put on a good show for us.”

Not before regarding him with a hate filled glare, regrettably, you did as he said. Still facing them, you slowly peeled the rest of your clothing off of your body, article by article. The pile of discarded garments eventually laid abandoned at your feet, and in a feeble attempt to preserve your remaining dignity, you shielded your body with your hands as much as possible.

Dabi’s command came abruptly. Short and to the point. Those lack of words told you all you needed to know of the silent and seething anger inside of him.

“Get on the bed.”

Once again, you could only do as he harshly instructed, words spilling from his mouth with no hesitation. The mattress sunk under your weight, the wrinkled comforter pressing into your legs as you kneeled atop the blankets.

There was an amused snicker, “There we go. Now, touch yourself.”

You hated it. You hated Dabi. You hated yourself for not reading his silence properly.

But you spread your legs on the bed regardless, jaw clenched and heart racing.

Like a predator taking in the sight of its prey, Dabi’s eyes followed your hand as it moved south, one still being used to cover your breasts. You hesitated, and he was quick to comment. “Go on, a slut like yourself shouldn’t give a damn who’s watching, right?”

That’s not true. He doesn’t mean it.

Dabi knows he was your first, and the poor man roped into all of this was the only other person you’d been with. But Dabi was cruel, and his words were meant only to sting, whether or not they held true meaning.

There was no room to argue his point, so instead you screwed your eyes shut, and let your fingers slide down your body. To ease your own discomfort in the slightest, you gathered up some of your own arousal, running the pads of your fingers across your slit. You surprised yourself to even find a build up of wetness, the feeling only messing with your head.

You weren’t enjoying this. You weren’t.

You began rubbing tight circles into your clit, desperately trying to move things along. Honestly, you had zero clue how far Dabi was going to take things tonight. But wherever it was going, you wanted to reach the end as fast as you could.

Unconsciously, your hips moved in tandem with the pace of your fingers. A familiar heat began to build, and you could feel the coil in your abdomen start to tighten. You knew their eyes were on you, Dabi’s piercing stare not being one you wanted to meet.

But the thought of it, knowing he was studying your every move with intent, had you clenching around nothing. It was never lost on you how he treated you in normal circumstances―uncharacteristically observant to the way you reacted under his touch. Sometimes you thought he knew your body better than you knew it yourself. And so your mind wandered to those moments where he’d have you melting into a pool of bliss, hoping to ease your nerves from the less than private situation you were being subjected to. You let out an involuntary whimper, your fingers picking up the pace.

You were so close, the urgency of wanting to finish quickly having you coming undone faster than normal. Desperately, you ground yourself into your own hand, focusing on simply feeling.

...

“Stop.”

Your eyes shot open, confused and now painfully aware again of what was going on. There was nothing to say, so you simply regarded Dabi in anguish. He wasn’t going to make things easy on you.

He moved out from behind the man and towards you as he spoke, slowly sauntering with menacing steps. “Aw, don’t give me that look, sweets.” Dabi stopped at the foot of the bed, peering down at you with that cold stare.

“You’ve gotta make up for what you’ve done, remember?”

_____

You could feel the drool seeping out of your mouth, running down your chin and pooling onto the bed sheets beneath your head. Dabi’s grip was tight, a hand firmly latched onto your hair. Pulling you back and forth in quick motions, groaning as you sucked his cock at a steady rhythm.

He’d long abandoned patience, once letting you go at your own pace, now taking control in disappointment for your lack of motivation. Almost considerately, his thumb swiped a fallen tear wetting your cheek. It didn’t do much aside from smearing the build-up of moisture, only showing you that he didn’t really care.

Hoping to move things along, you ran your tongue along the underside of his length, pressing into a prominent vein before feeling the cold metal of a Jacob’s Ladder. Hollowing out your cheeks, you attempted to bob your head to take back some independence. Dabi hissed in response to your ministrations, having disregarded the man behind him for a short while.

The flame user let out a breathy huff above you, “Fuck...just like that.”

You flicked your tongue around the head of his cock, dragging it against the weeping slit as he kept you in one place for a moment. But not a second later he was forcing himself back down your throat, earning a pained whimper from you as you remained kneeled over, propped up by your elbows and trying to grip his thighs for some semblance of support.

The vibrations made Dabi hiss, unrelenting in his ways as he fucked your mouth. “Look at you, fuckin’ drooling all over yourself―dirty little bitch.”

The way he pressed so deep into you, hitting the back of your throat with each harsh thrust had you gagging around his length. That only seemed to spur him on, the grip on your hair tightening and his movements becoming more erratic. You could feel yourself growing lightheaded, unable to breath as you desperately tried to keep up with his brutal pace.

Dabi had gotten talkative again―always did when he was close to cumming. “Ah, f-fuck. So goddamn good, babydoll. Takin’ me s-so well.”

A hand pushed against his thigh, trying to pull yourself from him. He laughed at your feeble attempts. “Don’t even fuckin’ think about it. N-not letting you off that easy…”

Black spots started to form in your vision, it taking everything you had not to anger the man relentlessly face-fucking you. Pained, you whimpered around his cock, and that must’ve been the final nail in his coffin.

Dabi let out a strangled groan, and you could feel the hot ropes of cum spilling down the back of your throat. Finally, he pulled you from his length, and you sputtered out in a fit of choking the second you could take a breath of air.

Exhaustedly, your body sank into the bed, a sedating lightheadedness clouding your mind as oxygen returned to your system. A certain muffledness enveloped your senses, being so drained from his actions. Your eyes were closed, so you didn’t see where he moved next.

Not until the bed dipped behind you, and a hand weaved its way into your hair once again did you realize what he was doing, and what he had planned next.

Dabi yanked your head towards, and you could feel his exposed and partly scarred torso pressing into your back as he leant down to speak into your ear. “I wasn’t fucking kidding when I said I’d fuck you in front of him.” He was laughing through the statement, clearly having much more fun with the situation than you were.

Yet, as much as you told yourself that you hated Dabi for what he was doing, as much as you repeated in your mind how you’d never come back to him again―his words still got to you. Unfaltering and honest, not a threat―but a promise. Knowing how good he always made you feel only had your headspace heading down a foggy path of conflicted acceptance.

Your head fell back onto the bed as he released his hold on your hair, opting to grip your hips with calloused hands instead. You let out a whine as a finger dipped between your folds, coming back to run across your slit.

“Fuck, dollface. Like a goddamn faucet back here―you enjoy bein’ watched like this?” Dabi punctuated his question with a harsh smack to your ass, the skin stinging under the impact and you lurching forward in surprise.

A high pitched yelp escaped your lips. “N-no! I―”

Another smack, this time on the opposite cheek. The sharp pain radiated through your backside, and you could’ve sworn the contact of his hand on your skin felt hotter than it should be.

Typical.

“Try again, cause this dripping pussy says otherwise.”

You balled up loose parts of the comforter in your fists, limbs shaking from his actions. “I’m n-not―”

It was much harder this time, his hand coming down causing a more strained wail to involuntary leave your body.

Dabi leaned down once again, “I’m not gonna move on ‘til you admit you wanna get fucked in front of this asshole.”

Another hit.

“Say it.”

You stayed silent.

Another hit.

“Beg for me to fuck you.”

Another hit.

You sobbed into the bedsheets, chest heaving with the exertion that the searing pain was causing you. Somewhere distant, you felt certain inhibitions and reservations leave your mind, bogged down by the suffocating presence of the man behind you. Your voice came out ragged, choked and cracking. “P-please, Dabi…”

His rugged palm collided with the reddened flesh on your ass again, no doubt to be sporting bruises by the morning. “Speak up, slut.”

A shaky breath was exhaled from your system. “Please, I―I want you to fuck me...”

There was a bout of silence, and you feared that the scorching pain would resume.

But it didn’t.

Dabi chuckled lowly. “See, that wasn’t so hard.”

You gave a deep sigh of relief at his words. It baffled you how he could switch back and forth like that. One moment savagely aggressive, the next nonchalant and disregarding your pains and aches.

He didn’t disregard certain needs of yours however. Or his, for that matter.

A crease formed between your brows at the sensation of the tip of his cock slipping down and up your aching heat. A mewl left your parted lips when he pressed into your abandoned and needy clit. Unconsciously, you moved yourself against his length, coating it in your slick while trying to gain some much needed friction.

In the moment of countless intense sensations coming together all at once, it felt like you and Dabi were the only two people in the room.

You could feel the velvety tip pushing past your entrance, sliding in with ease with how much you were already dripping from being previously denied release. Dabi went surprisingly slow, letting you feel each and every inch of his length as it rubbed perfectly against your walls. The metal piercings that ran up the underside of his cock were a stark contrast to everything else you were feeling, but it was mouth-wateringly satisfying regardless.

Dabi let out a groan as he bottomed out, now not wasting a moment before he began thrusting in and out of your sopping core. The grip on your waist only grew tighter with each passing second. That, and as he was digging his blunt nails into the plush skin, the palms of his hands were also heating up. But as Dabi continued to relentlessly bury himself inside of you at a near brutal pace, the temperature never made it past something that would leave a mark. It stung, but the low burning was distant when the rest of his presence was so much more intense.

The always lingering smell of smoke and cigarettes invaded your senses, the haze over your mind growing thicker. It was sedating, emotionally subduing, coaxing you to drown in the entrancing state until all that mattered was Dabi.

You could feel your limbs growing weaker, legs shaking as a warmth developed inside of you. Your walls clamped down around his length, growing more and more sensitive with each thrust. Your orgasm was creeping up on you fast with the way his cock kept brushing up against that sensitive and spongy bundle of nerves.

Dabi groaned at the way you were sucking him in, catching on to how close you were to release. It only egged him on further, a hand detaching from your hip to push the side of your face into the mattress. “Fuckin’ do it, slut. Cum on my cock.” With a sharp thrust, the back of his thighs colliding with yours with each movement, you felt yourself beginning to come apart underneath him.

“Why don’t you show the fucker who makes you feel this good, huh?”

There was a moment of white hot bliss, and then the waves of your orgasm were crashing down upon you, your walls clenching around Dabi’s cock. You let out a silent scream, drool seeping into the fabric your head was being shoved into. He continued with his rough and skillfully well aimed thrusts as he fucked you through it.

“That’s it, good fucking girl…”

Your release sapped almost all of your remaining energy, but not everything. Dabi continued to ravage your worn out body. You whimpered at the overstimulation he was inflicting.

“I-I can’t, Dabi. It’s too...t-too much…”

He huffed in response, his thrusts growing erratic and faster. “Aw, you can’t handle it? Well...maybe you should’ve thought about that before pissing me off.”

In a pitiful attempt to relieve yourself from his ministrations, you tiredly pulled away from him, arms shaking and threatening to give out.

“The fuck do you thing you’re going, doll?”

Dabi dragged you back, snapping his hips against you hard. His back pressed into yours, and you shrieked when his teeth sunk into the skin of your shoulder blade. Not breaking it, but drawing dangerously close. His dick twitched inside of you at the strangled noises escaping your mouth, rutting into you without pause.

You could tell he was getting close, breathing heavy against your skin, causing goosebumps to prickle across your body. An arm snaked around your waist, you mewling as two fingers began rubbing tight circles against your clit.

Dabi continued leaving marks along your back, one arm bracing him beside your head while the other was tasked with rolling and pinching your sensitive nub in between his fingers.

That familiar heat began pooling once again, you not even being able to think straight as Dabi practically fucked you stupid.

You heard the flame user laugh slightly at your state. He couldn’t see your face with the way you were positioned, but if he could, he’d be met with your eyes glossed over, nearly rolling back in your skull with how well he was working you over.

The hand not circling your puffy clit wrapped around your throat. In one swift motion, Dabi pulled both of you up, your back leant against his, eyes shutting tightly closed as your head rested against his shoulder. He kept up the fast pace, his length pressing even deeper and in new places than it was before.

His breath hit the shell of your ear, a shiver running down your spine as the raspiness of Dabi’s voice permeated through the blissed out trance you were in. “Tell me, could he make you feel as good as I do?”

…

The question didn’t quite resonate with you.

You didn’t know who ‘he’ was.

But you were sure that nobody could please you like Dabi did.

“N-no…”

The pace of his fingers quickened, you barely able to stay upright as you gripped the wrist of the hand latched around your neck.

“That’s right, I’m all you’ll ever need.”

Dabi wasn’t asking for your agreement. It was a statement. As far as he was concerned, Dabi was the only one who could satisfy you. Nobody else could do what he did to you. Not now, not ever.

With a particularly sharp and well angled thrust, you came on his cock for the second time. A strew of moans spilled from your wetted lips, full body shudders wracking your system.

And like that, Dabi’s hips sputtered, his cum spilling out inside of you and painting your walls white. His fingers constricted around your throat harder for a few seconds, before releasing his hold completely.

You haphazardly slumped back down into the mattress, chest heaving in exhaustion. You barely registered the feeling of Dabi’s cock slipping from your abused cunt, cum dribbling down your thighs and dripping onto the sheets.

...But you did register the force of your body being flipped over so that you were laying on your back.

Fighting against the heavy weight of your eyelids, you peered up at Dabi’s towering form. He was settled between your legs, spiked hair sticking to his forehead and eyes unmoving from yours. A look both satisfied, but aching for more.

“Don’t get all tired on me now. I’m not even close to being done with you.”

_____

Warm light spilled through the space of the room, the defined rays in the dark picking up particles slowly drifting about in the air. The curtains stayed closed, save for that small sliver letting such contrasting luminance in. It landed upon the blankets, your eyes following the ripples in the fabric while you came to.

It was comfortable, the heat of the sun, and of the room, wrapping around your mind and body. A sereneness to it all, unmoving and unworrying.

Until you shifted, and a dull aching throb brought you to your senses.

A glance to the foot of the bed. Eyes searching for evidence. The chair from the night before was nestled back into the corner of the bedroom, tucked neatly under a desk. You thought you were alone.

And as you rolled over onto your other side, the collision with another body proved otherwise. Still a little slow from the grip of sleep, and of the pains settling in your body, your head tilted up to observe the other occupant of the bed.

“Mornin’, doll.”

Blue eyes met yours. A small smirk adorning his face, yours remaining blank.

“...Where is he?”

A sigh escaped his lungs, the air hitting your skin. Dabi brought a hand up to your face, slowly, fingers ghosting your cheek. He paused, cupping your face lightly, thumb caressing your cheekbone.

“I let him go.”

His voice was quiet, barely a whisper. If you weren’t mere centimeters apart from him, you’d miss the short confession completely.

Dabi’s gaze lingered, locked with yours. You flitted between both irises, searching. Answers unspoken, a truth untold. Something that he wasn’t telling you.

A static doubt flickered in the back of your mind. There was a challenge to be had in the way he regarded you. His words playing out in your own conscience.

Do you really believe that?

Breaking the stare, but not the tension that only you could feel, he pulled your body into his. Your head laid atop his chest, the smell of his cologne permeating, and unmistakably Dabi.

You felt the reverberations of his voice as he spoke, said with a breathy exhale. “Go back to sleep, ‘still early…”

A hand remained carding through your hair, motions slow and soothing. The other lightly squeezed your exposed hip, a gesture reassuring, but it didn’t completely feel as such.

There was no denying the tiredness your body felt. His touches, soft and affectionate, coaxing you to heed his words. Dabi knew how your body reacted to him. He was your first. Your only.

And you knew him too. You knew better than to not listen.

So you did.

[hinagamoizaf]

Odaiba Memorial Day 2021

My first Odaiba Memorial Day while being an active part of the fandom, and it’s high time I write an essay about my crackhead obsession with Yakari.

(*There will be some swearing & f-bombs in this post) As a kid, Yamato was like the ‘blue and cooler Taichi’ to me, like he doesn’t exist without being adjacent to the gogglehead. Also my family didn’t have the full Dark Masters arc in our CD collection, so I literally knew nothing about Yams’ emotional meltdown. But now, I adore this overly sensitive dork, and I don’t mean that in a derogatory way. Maybe I’m biased in this reading, but I think Yamato has had to push himself to mature faster than his peers; and he’s very much a mini-adult at a young age. For all these grand monster battles, the main cast are still children; among them Yamato is a kid dealing with a lot of unresolved issues but he’s got a lot of heart, he’s passionate about those he holds dear but he just doesn’t know how to process this. Another thing that goes hand-in-hand with Yamato is the fact he’s a musician. Again, I could be reaching way into my ass here; but there’s this mumbo jumbo real life idea of the ‘depressed creative’, and Yamato works his way out of that dangerously romanticised label. The kid’s got a passion for music, he’s literally been playing the harmonica since Takeru was in diapers .Without spoiling DA:LEK, Yamato still holds onto that flame into adulthood but it’s not something he can actively work on; and that takes its toll. I love Yamato because he’s someone who cares so much about those around him and what he does; and he’s just a kid who’ sorting things out and wanting to better himself and well fuck, if that isn’t relateable. Even with the flaws that the Tri films have, I think it’s a natural progression for Yamato’s character journey. I see people saying how ‘they just turned him into a tsundere’ or ‘he’s so snappish now’. But seeing as most of the Tri cast are in High School and general teenagers are assholes to each other, yeah it’s not unreasonable to see why Yamato’s the way he is now. He didn’t lose his touch with the Crest of Friendship; when the literal world is up in flames, there’s still the same loyal and compassionate Yamato who understands the importance of being there for and with his friends. Yamato’s a big mushy boy who has a hard time conveying what he feels and his needs; Hikari isn’t any better and this was how I grew to love the concept of them being together. She’s not the Chosen Child of Light for nothing, Hikari’s symbiotic partnership with Tailmon is a very shoehorned metaphor of being an angel from Heaven and I absolutely eat that shit up. Fans have pointed out Hikari’s so mysterious with her role and powers as late member of the team, the same can be said for her personality. You see Hikari, you think ‘sweet, little girl’ and in part thanks to the 02 dub, she grows into being this sassy brat. 

A brat who has trouble asserting herself and is prone to literally get dragged into an ocean of depression. Like any respectful human, Hikari cares for her friends and family; but a mixture of that and a tendency to devalue herself is Hikari’s fatal flaw. She’s too self-sacrificing to a fault, and this reflects the other extreme end of her crest. In my own overly pretentious words, I think Hikari has self-imposed on herself for ‘being the light of the team’; like she carries herself as a doll whose job is to bring others out of darkness when she’s still stuck in the shadows herself. Hikari doesn’t allow herself to verbalise her wants, let alone her needs because she doesn’t want to inconvenience others; she just goes with the flow and puts on a mask of toxic optimism. 

I am aware this analyse could be me scraping the bottom of the barrel, but it’s how I interpreted Yamato and Hikari’s character; and now I’ll articulate my brain rot  with how the fuck are these two being shipped.  

You have these two people who already have this history and experience of being Chosen Children, but there’s also an underlying sub-connection of them being each other’s brothers’ best friend. As many Yakari fanfics have headcanon, it’s not unreasonable to think that Yamato’s at the Yagamis’ apartment frequently because A) Taichi is his best friend and B) The Ishida apartment is prolly empty ‘cause Hiroaki’s out being a workaholic. The Yagamis become the family that Yamato didn’t have growing up, and they welcome him with open arms. At their apartment, things are warm and rowdy, he doesn’t have to be alone with his thoughts and they treat him as a second son. Listen, I've been a diehard Takari shipper too, but I genuinely think Takeru and Hikari can be platonic soulmates. They know each other like the back of their hand, they’re cosmically entwined and their Digimon are in sync; they’re also legit a pair of best friends too. I know early 2000’s fics depict Yakari as being this big drama; but I have a weak heart and I’m here to say Yakari can be cosy and comforting and they’re just two idiots in love who need to be honest with each other.

I imagine their courtship not to be this grand display of fireworks and ‘the chase’, but a very subtle experience with slow burn. For me, Yakari is very much the first blossom of spring. They represent new beginnings and youth, the gentle lull of Mother Nature tending to the earth, something that’s natural but the routine has existed for centuries. Yakari is very much a gentle love, and with everything I’ve said about their characters; these two learn to embrace and nurture the other until they have a whole garden of spring’s blossoms. 

This crackship has the surface-layer appeal of ‘brooding lone wolf’ and ‘sweet angel’, so when you peel the layers to find these two very private characters who just need that one-on-one reassurance/affirmation; this ship is a warm blanket of fluff and yes that’s basically the plot of my fics. It’s the charm of slice-of-life, the endearment of growing and improving yourself with the one you love with the occasional reminder that this is a series founded on puppies evolving into angels. 

I’ve had enough of tragedies and melodramatic love affairs. I write about Yakari because as cliche as this sounds, I want more stories about ‘the light of friendship’. Yes that was a god awful line, but it captures why I have brain rot for this pair. To celebrate my first OMD, I have uploaded a special chapter on my AO3 fic titled ‘Mon ange’; it wouldn’t be August 1st if I didn’t half-hazardly work on this leading up to the big day. It couldn’t fit on Instagram, but this rambling piece is part of a bigger essay on my tumblr, so that’s also up and running. I hold Digimon near and dear to my heart, and I go about sharing that love by gushing about Yakari.

[katcoquette]

Back From the Dead

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Hufflepuff Reader

Requested: Yes! “…a Draco Malfoy x fem hufflepuff reader where Draco thinks the reader is dead, but the reader is alive.”

Word Count: 1.4k

TW: violence, language

You had been separated from Draco sometime during the battle for Hogwarts. You didn’t know how long you had been on your own, you had no concept of time in this final fight for your lives. The last you had seen of him was when he and Harry had come flying out of the Room of Requirement.

You had turned the corner and seen him lying on the floor next to Harry. He got up quickly, running from the danger behind them. You looked wide-eyed at the flames that were billowing from inside the room. “Draco!” You yelled, running toward him. He didn’t say anything, instead grabbing your hand and pulling you after him. He didn’t stop until you were safely down the corridor, hidden in an alcove.

He still seemed panicked when the two of you crouched down. “Merlin, Y/N… I was worried about you.” He held your face with both hands, searching your eyes for any indication that you had been hurt. “I’m okay… I’m okay.” You rest your forehead against his, grateful for a moment of peace. “You’re the one that just came shooting out of that inferno. I should be worried about you.” You forced a laugh. “What was that?”

Draco looked back over his shoulder, hearing someone come down the corridor. His eyes snapped back to yours, “I promise I’ll tell you later… right now we don’t have much time.” He suddenly pulled you into his arms, holding you tight. “I love you, I’ll find you when this is all over, okay? Right now, you need to run.” He kissed you, pausing only a moment when your lips met. You heard yells approaching your hiding spot. Draco pulled away, his eyes urging you to move. “Run!” He moved from the alcove and into the hallway, shooting a spell at the Death Eater that was steps away.

Now, you were running through the castle toward a classroom you had heard some second year Hufflepuffs were hiding in. As the Hufflepuff prefect, you felt it was your duty to try and get them to a safer place. Your plan was to guide them through the secret passage under the one-eyed witch statue that led to Honeydukes.

You searched a couple of classrooms nearby until you found them, five 12-year-olds huddled in the corner of the Defense Against the Dark Arts room. They sighed in relief when they noticed it was their prefect that had entered the room.

“Come with me, we’re going to go somewhere safer than this.” You gathered them all around you and peeked out the door.

“Okay, around the corner, quiet as you can.” You stood in the doorway, shielding them from anyone that might wander to this part of the castle. Once they’re all out, you hurry to the front of the group, “Let’s keep going, quickly.” You whispered, looking down at them. You see one of the boy’s eyes widen and he slowly lifts his wand to point at something in front of you.

You look down the corridor, making eye contact with a Death Eater who was smiling sickly. You lift your wand, throwing a hex his way. “Go the other way! Try to get to the common room!” You yell to the kids behind you, while blocking the spell that was hurling toward you. They follow your instructions, running the other way.

You widen your stance, preparing for a fierce duel. You’re able to hold your own long enough for the small ‘puffs to disappear out of sight, even getting in a few spells of your own. He blocks them all with ease, now beginning to overpower you. The last thing you see before freezing is a flash of green light.

__________

The battle was nearing its end, and the focus of the remaining witches and wizards had shifted to healing spells. Voldemort was dead.

But Draco was panicking more than ever.

Draco’s POV

I should have never left her alone. We were in the middle of a war for fuck’s sake. I was mentally kicking myself over the events that had led up to this moment, me running around the castle trying to find my only happiness.

“Have you seen Y/N?” Another no. I was growing more and more frantic with each negative response I received. No one seemed to know where she was. I walked briskly past a group of small students wrapped in blankets, to Hermione, of all people. If she didn’t know where Y/N was I didn’t know who would.

I was let down once again when she shook her head sadly. I ran my hands through my hair, looking around the Great Hall. Where are you?

“Excuse me…” My eyes snapped down to a Hufflepuff boy, who looked barely old enough to be here, let alone go through something like this. “I heard you talking about Y/N.”

My heart leapt at her name, hopeful at the thought of finding her. “Do you know where she is?”

He stared down at the floor. “She came to save us, but we got cornered. She stayed behind to fight a Death Eater.” He paused, obviously still terrified. “One of the others said they heard him yell the killing curse, and I think I saw a flash of green…she never followed after us.”  

“Where?” I demanded, my voice slightly faltering.

__________

A million thoughts fired off in my head as I rushed to the corridor the encounter had happened in. The closer I got, the more tears I felt fall to my cheeks, and the less I could try to deny her death.

She couldn’t be gone, not after all we’d been through. We deserved to have a happy ending.

Then, guilt. It was my fault she was alone.

I turned the corner and felt my knees give way. At the end of the hallway, right where he had told me she was, I saw a crumpled body through my tears.

No. Not Y/N.

I couldn’t bear to bring myself closer, instead, seeing our entire life together flashing through my mind. She helped me see the good in the world. She was so patient, she radiated happiness. At the same time, she was fiercely loyal to those she cared about; I was lucky to be included in that category.

My entire world had changed completely when I met her. But now she was gone. How would I ever be able to live without her?

The realization of who I had lost was too much to bear. I let myself crumble completely, soaking in every emotion and truly mourning for my lost love.

__________

Your POV

You woke up to a quiet castle. You groaned as you tried to sit up, your muscles aching. He missed. The Death Eater had missed.

The force of the spell was so powerful that it had still knocked you far when it grazed past you, leaving bruises and cuts over your body, but you were alive.

Tears of relief flowed freely down your face. You were alive.

Draco.

You found new strength when you remembered him, your only motive now being to find him. Using the wall to pull yourself up, you start to hobble down the corridor. As you reach an intersection, you glance down to see the very same Death Eater, dead.

You don’t linger on him, looking down the hall to your right when you hear someone.

“Draco?” You barely muttered his name, but it was enough.

He was slumped against the wall, with red eyes that stared blankly at the floor. At the sound of your voice, he looked up, almost in disbelief.

“Draco!” You said louder, moving as quickly as you could toward him.

He pushed himself up, running to meet you. As soon as he could reach you, he was grasping you in his arms, and lifting you up. “Oh my god, Y/N. Oh my god.”

He buried his face in your shoulder, keeping you tight in his arms. “I thought you were dead. Y/N, I thought I lost you.” He said through sobs.

You were crying too, overwhelmed with emotion, but ultimately just grateful you had both made it. “I’m okay. Everything’s okay.”

“I should have followed you. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I should have found you right after.” His eyes scanned every part of your face, making sure you were safe.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” You said softly, pulling his lips to yours. You both laughed at the mess of the situation, the tears running down both your faces, the dirt and blood scattered over your bodies.

“I love you, Y/N.” His forehead rested against yours, hands gently cupping your face. “I promise I’ll never leave you again.”

You held his elbows softly, “I love you, Draco.” You kissed him again. “Deal.”

He kept that promise to you, and in the years following, added more. Some in the form of vows.

A/N: I had such a burst of writing energy just now, oml. Thank you for 500 followers! All the support on my writing means so much :’)

Requests are always open! xx Kate