#honestly i thought him having a long face would've made more sense

[navybrat817]

Indulgence

Pairing: Dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub!Female Reader Summary: When Bucky calls, you go to him. Word Count: Over 5.7k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, D/s elements, bondage, aftercare, established arrangement, insecurities, pet names, longing, possessive behavior, world building, mix of canon and non-canon, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I'm very excited for this new AU, lovelies! There's a deep bond between these two, but we know the road to love isn't always easy. ❤️Beta read by the amazing @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. And thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer for listening to me ramble about this part. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You had only been asleep for an hour when your phone went off, your eyes barely open as you reached for the device and saw the familiar name appear. “Bucky?” You answered drowsily.

“Hey, angel,” he said roughly, the pet name bringing a sleepy smile to your face. It sounded like he hadn't gotten much sleep either. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“It’s okay. I have tomorrow off,” you said, a bit more alert as you sat up. “Are you at your apartment?”

“Yeah, I got back a bit ago,” he replied, swearing under his breath. “It’s really late. I just…”

“Need me,” you finished for him, stretching your back as you stood up. If he wanted to tell you he made it home safely from his latest assignment, he would've sent you a text. You knew by now that a call meant he had to see you in person. “Give me a few minutes?”

“You sure? I understand if you’d rather go back to bed.”

“I’m not going to get any sleep until I know you will, too,” you said. It would drive you crazy. “I want to come over. Okay?”

You wondered if the call dropped since you didn't hear anything on the other end. “Okay. I’ll send a car,” he said. He never let you pay for a ride yourself. “Thank you,” he added so softly you almost missed it.

“You don't need to thank me,” you assured him, though you appreciated hearing it. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he promised, your heart skipping a beat before he hung up.

You brushed your teeth again before you changed out of your pajamas. The outfit didn't exactly matter. If it had, he would’ve told you what you wear. It wouldn't stay on long anyway. You sensed that this was a night for him to simply blow off some steam or release anything still pent up from his assignment.

You were more than happy to help.

“On my way.” You messaged him a few minutes later as you went out to the car.

You politely greeted the driver before gazing out the window. If anyone had told you months ago that you’d be sleeping with the former Winter Soldier, you would’ve laughed at them for saying something so crazy. You never expected to meet the man, let alone connect with him. That was your life now though. You were sleeping with Bucky Barnes.

But it wasn't that cut and dry.

“I’ll be outside.” He sent back.

You smiled to yourself as you thought about Bucky, the man searching for himself again. After years of enduring horrific pain and having no control over his actions, he felt lost once he was free. In his eyes, he would never be able to right all the wrongs of the atrocities he was forced to commit, but making amends for his past was a start. It wasn't enough though to heal the cracks from within. It couldn't stop him from plunging into the deep abyss of his mind where it once felt whole.

He had to find a way to feel semi-normal again. He needed to do something good for someone else outside of his heroic duties. And he had to do so in an environment where he could express himself openly, honestly, and authentically with a person he could trust.

That was where you came into the picture.

If Bucky called, no matter what time of day and you were available, you went to his place in a car he paid for. You stayed until you were both satisfied. A more crude way to think of it was that you helped him fuck out his frustrations and gave him a means to inflict pleasure on someone instead of hurt. It was a routine you were used to by now.

“You wanna be my angel?”

You may be his angel, but you weren't his girlfriend. He wasn't in a place to have a typical relationship. You weren't just a fuck buddy either. You were his submissive of sorts, along with his confidant and a way for him to find release and some sense of normalcy.

While he sometimes fucked you like a whore, he never once treated you like one. He cared for your well-being and checked in on you the way a boyfriend would. He kept his place stocked with your favorite snacks. You didn't sleep with anyone else and neither did he. You looked out for each other.

Unlike your last boyfriend.

As far as arrangements went, you could do much worse. There were rules set in place. Bucky was honest about his needs and helped you heal your wounds from the failure of your previous relationship. But the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to be with him.

Was it a recipe for disaster?

The drive seemed faster than usual because before you knew it the car stopped in front of Bucky’s apartment building. Your pulse quickened when you saw the brunette standing by the door, donned in his usual leather jacket. Even from a short distance, he looked massive and heat bloomed in your core as you knew what was to come. He moved to the curb with more grace than a man his size should have, his hard blue eyes set on you through the glass before he opened the door.

His gaze practically set your heart on fire and it went full ablaze when he tenderly smiled. He was stunningly beautiful even in the dark of night. It almost hurt to look back at him.

You had it bad.

“Hey,” he said, offering you his gloved hand to help you out. You hardly ever saw him out without his vibranium hand covered. “It’s good to see you.”

“Hey,” you smiled softly, giving the driver a quick thanks before you got out. “You, too.”

Bucky's large hand moved to the small of your back as he gently led you toward the building and opened the door. He didn't like to linger outside for too long. Neither of you spoke as he guided you to his apartment on the first floor and you didn't push him to make small talk. It was a delicate arrangement and some nights didn't call for filler.

Still, you tried to get a read on his emotions. There was a stiffness to his stance, but he didn't appear upset or angry. You also didn’t spot any obvious injuries.

“Were you hurt?” You asked as he took his keys out. He was only gone for a couple of days, but you knew how dangerous the missions were.

He turned and stared at you, not at all surprised by your question since you always asked. “No, I didn’t get hurt,” he assured you, reaching up to scratch at the stubble on his chin. “But I can't exactly talk about it either. I’m sorry.”

You nodded in understanding. It was information you weren't privy to and you doubted he called tonight to talk about it anyway. He peeled back layers of himself, yet there was so much underneath that you didn't know about. You cared for him regardless.

“Bucky, you don't have to apologize for that,” you reminded him.

“I just feel bad. You can tell me about your work, but I can't always talk about mine,” he said, looking both ways before he poked his head into his apartment.

“My job isn’t as ‘exciting’ as yours,” you teased before he let you in.

Bucky had a nice place. The partially exposed brick walls paired well with the hardwood floors. Tasteful, but not extravagant. The thick curtains in the living room matched the drapes in his bedroom. Since he occasionally slept on the floor by the oversized chair, it helped to block out the sun. He didn't have much as far as decor, but he did have a piece of art that his best friend, Steve, drew hung up in the hall.

He also had a bowl that you made on the console to hold his keys, which he promptly set them in.

It meant something that he even let you into his apartment when others close to him had never been invited.

“Need anything to drink?” He asked, slipping his jacket and glove off.

He had an empty glass waiting on the kitchen island in case you did. While you indulged in a drink now and then, he wouldn't allow you to have too many. He refused to have sex with you if you were inebriated. Said it took consent away and you wouldn't be alert enough to use a safeword if necessary.

He wouldn't budge on that rule.

“No, thanks,” you answered, gazing at him.

His T-shirt strained against his biceps, one flesh and one vibranium. You could still smell his cologne from the small distance across the room, amber and cedarwood. Warm, comforting, dominating. All the things he was to you.

Not the monster he sometimes believed himself to be.

You eyed him as he poured himself a shot of whiskey, the need to soothe him coming forward when you caught a distant look in his eyes. He didn't even make a move to down his drink as he set his hands on the counter and stared off. Maybe he couldn't give you the details about what happened, but you could take care of him.

Because as much as he sometimes had to have control over you, both of you had power in your relationship.

“Bucky?” You gently called out, pulling him from his trance. “You can talk to me, even if you have to keep some things to yourself.”

His shoulders dropped as he sighed. “Three months.”

“I'm sorry?”

“Three months since we started this,” he answered.

You realized he was right when you remembered the date. It felt longer yet still brand new. “Yeah. Three great months,” you smiled.

A knot formed in your stomach when he didn't smile back. “And you still feel safe with me?” He asked, gripping the counter so hard you thought it might crumble in his hands. “You really trust that I won’t hurt you?”

Your smile slipped, the questions like a punch to the gut as you walked toward him. You stopped a foot in front of him to give him some breathing room as he made eye contact. Where had that come from? What happened to make him question that?

“Of course, I feel safe. Not only do I feel safe with you and trust you, I know that you won't hurt me. You will always take care of me,” you said with fierce determination, yet with a vulnerability you couldn't hide. “If I didn't believe that, I wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t submit to you.”

You told him the same thing the day you two agreed on this arrangement. He wasn't your boyfriend, but he wasn't like your ex. He wouldn't just throw you away without a second thought or ignore your needs. You also had faith in him that he wouldn't harm you.

And as much as you trusted him, he trusted you that much more. If he didn't, he wouldn't have called you in the first place. That meant he still trusted himself around you.

He looked away and asked above a whisper, “Do you still think I'm a good man?”

“Yes,” you replied without hesitation, your heart aching when his jaw clenched. “Bucky, look at me, please.”

He slowly made eye contact with you, a storm swirling in his stare.

“You are a good man,” you stated, needing to reach the part of him that believed it. “And it doesn't matter how many times you ask me that, my answer isn't going to change. Ever.”

Bucky was silent, his breathing the only sound in the space. You were worried that you said the wrong thing before he pushed himself away from the counter. Instead of moving back when he approached, you stood firm, ready to brace the storm. You sometimes felt like a mouse confronted by a lion when he got close, but it sent a thrill through you. Because you meant what you said.

You trusted him and he made you feel safe.

“I just had to hear you say it,” he whispered as he cupped your face.

A fire lit within you as Bucky captured your mouth with his. There was care and tenderness beneath the hunger and you found yourself clinging to his arms as you kissed him back. No one before him had ever kissed you with such desire, such passion. It had you chasing his lips when he pulled away too soon.

“Now go to my room, get undressed, and kneel on the bed facing the headboard,” he ordered, his voice low and allowing the words to sink in just in case you had any objections. Because he was done talking and ready to play.

So were you.

It took you a moment to answer since you had to bite back a whine. “Yes, Sir,” you whispered, feeling his eyes on you as you walked to his bedroom.

You focused on keeping your breathing even as you shed your clothes, taking a moment to fold them before you set them on the chair in the corner. The only time you left your garments on the floor was if Bucky put them there or had you put on a show for him. It was his space and you respected it.

He hadn't told you how long to wait for him, but your heart thumped as you knelt on the queen sized bed. You didn’t see any toys as you glanced around, but there was water, snacks, wipes, and the soft blanket you loved waiting on the nightstand. It took a moment for you to spot that there was a blindfold and scarf on top of the blanket. Your womb clenched in anticipation, an exquisite feeling knowing your patience and obedience would reward you.

Bucky walked through the door a minute later and shut it behind him. The energy shifted completely, both of you ready for each other. As much as you wanted to lift your gaze and look behind you, you kept your eyes downcast as he approached the bed. He cupped your cheek once he was close enough and forced your eyes to meet his.

“My beautiful angel,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along your skin as you glowed from the praise. He reached for the scarf and ran his fingers across the silk as he glanced at you. “As much as I hate to cover those beautiful eyes of yours and restrain you, I want you to concentrate on my touch tonight. Just let me have you.”

A shiver rolled down your spine as you nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Hands behind your back,” he said, moving to secure them once you did so. The silk was soft against your skin, almost as soft as the kiss to your shoulder. After years of being restrained, you knew he felt guilty at times taking your control away. The difference was you gave yourself to him willingly. “Tell me your safewords.”

“Green is good. Yellow to pause,” you stated, testing the scarf. He never bound you too tight, but it was enough that you couldn’t slip your wrists free. “Red to stop."

“Good girl,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You turned your head a fraction so he could slot his lips properly over yours. Gentle, yet hot enough to melt your insides. “My good girl.”

He maneuvered you so you were in the middle of the bed and spread your knees a bit further apart. He joined you on his knees, still fully clothed. Casting your gaze down again, you bit your lip when you saw the prominent bulge in his pants. A hand came up to grasp your chin before you could stare for too long and lifted your head. If you were still wearing your panties, they would’ve dampened from his darkened gaze.

“So beautiful and all mine tonight,” he said.

“I’m yours, Sir,” you whispered, the word “always” unspoken.

“And I know you were staring,” he smirked, his fingers working the button and zipper of his jeans. His impressive cock sprang free once he pushed his underwear and pants down far enough and you wished you could lean down and swirl your tongue around the large head. “Greedy angel. Just desperate to have my cock in you.”

“Yes, Sir. Please,” you begged.

He made a show of lifting the blindfold before he slipped it over your head, your body tensing up when your world went dark. Sight was one of the senses you relied on the most. It helped you absorb most of the world around you. And now it was temporarily gone. It felt like your heart would burst from your chest as you breathed a bit heavier. But Bucky was there, softly touching your face until you relaxed.

“Breathe, angel. I’ve got you,” he whispered, drawing a gasp from you when his lips touched yours. His hands mapped your body, brushing along your breasts down to your thighs. You felt him everywhere. “Color?”

“Green,” you whispered as a hand moved around your back and forced you to arch. He was careful not to hurt your arms. “Please.”

Your head fell back with a moan as his lips closed around your nipple. You could practically feel that he looked up at you as he gently suckled. A wave of arousal crashed through you as he pinched the other. No one had ever lavished your body with such attention the way Bucky did.

“I love seeing you like this,” he murmured against the swell of your breast. “Helpless. Trembling. Needy.”

You didn't mean to let such a wanton moan escape, but he made you feel needed. He made you feel wanted. It was a beautiful thing to surrender to him.

“And I love that I'm the one you trust to take care of you.”

“I trust you with my life, Sir,” you moaned.

And your heart, even though he had the power to break it.

Your chest suddenly felt colder when Bucky pulled his mouth and hand away and you shook from the loss of his heat. His vibranium hand touched your torso to remind you he was close when he shifted closer to you on the bed. You gasped when he dragged his hand down and you were helpless to do anything but feel when it slid between your legs.

“You're doing so well for me,” he said, his teeth grazing your neck as his fingers spread your sopping folds. He teased you, letting you soak his metal fingers as you mewled. He lightly bit you again when he replaced his fingers with his cock, sliding along your slit, but not pushing inside you just yet. “You want me inside you? You need me to fuck you, don't you? Tell me.”

Your cheeks flamed as you whined. “I need you to fuck me, Sir,” you said, trying to widen your thighs to take him in more.

“I will. I'm going to give you everything you need,” he rumbled, gripping your hips with strong and capable hands to keep you still. “And you’re going to let me ruin your pretty little pussy with my cock.”

You panted with want at his possessiveness. Filthy words were something you never thought you’d hear from someone associated with The Avengers and they kicked your body into overdrive. You ached to have him split you open. “Ruin me, Sir.”

In one swift move he lifted you, pulled you into his lap, and buried himself to the hilt. Your mouth fell open as you let out a cry, every inch of his cock stretching and making itself at home in your welcoming cunt. You couldn't brace yourself on his shoulders with your hands behind your back. You couldn't see the ecstasy in his eyes as he let you adjust to his size, but you didn't have to. Not with the way he dug his fingers in and groaned against your shoulder.

He took you to heaven when he was inside you.

“Color,” he said against your skin, thrusting his hips up once.

“Green,” you moaned, reminding yourself to stay still when you wanted him to move. “So green.”

“Good girl,” he whispered, gently kissing up to your ear. “Keep being good while I bounce you up and down on my cock.”

Your eyes fluttered behind the blindfold as he pulled you up and slammed you back down on his cock. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and your heart beat frantically in your chest. It was difficult to string thoughts together, but they all went back to him and how good he made you feel. How he made you feel beautiful.

Flaws and all.

“It’s like your cunt was made for me, angel. Practically crying all over my cock,” his voice was smoky as sounds of pleasure tumbling from your lips. The next moan was softer when he slid a hand up to your neck, resting it there as the other kept your hips flush against his. “You deserve to feel good because you are good. So fucking good.��

Your lower lip trembled as a sob worked its way to your throat, “Thank you, Sir,” you whimpered before he squeezed.

“And I. Deserve. You.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust. You didn’t have to see his face to know the fury that surfaced. “My angel. Mine.”

It overwhelmed you as he bounced you in his lap, sinking you down onto him again and again. His thrusts were almost unforgiving, but the hand on your throat didn’t tighten anymore. He couldn’t hurt you. He wouldn’t hurt you.

“I’m your angel, Sir,” you moaned as he reduced you to a needy wet mess.

“I wanna tear you apart,” he growled against your lips. “And put you back together so you still feel me when you fucking breathe.”

“Tear me apart, Sir,” you gasped, a plea for him to use you more. Your thighs hit his as he thrust up and all you could do was take it. He touched places inside you no one else could reach, physically and emotionally, and you never wanted it to stop. “Please!”

“Tell me you need me to come inside you and I’ll let you come,” he ordered, the hand on your neck squeezing a fraction. “Say it.”

“Come inside me, Sir,” you begged.

“Bucky,” he breathed against your lips. “Say. My. Name.”

Your next breath was shaky. He always had you call him “Sir” on nights like this. Why was this different?

Your orgasm began to crest, but you couldn’t let go until you gave him what he wanted. And he’d give you what you needed. “Come inside me, Bucky,” you exhaled. “Please.”

He swiped his thumb along your pulse with a deep groan, his cock still driving up into you. “I will after you come,” he promised, his tongue sliding past your parted lips and pulling away all too quickly. “C’mon, angel. Come for me. Show me you’re mine.”

The sob you tampered down earlier resuraced, wrenched from your throat as you came. Your release continued, practically leaking around his cock as tears slid out beneath the blindfold. You were beyond rational thought as pleasure spiraled through you, vaguely aware that he thrust through it to chase his own end.

“Good. Fucking. Girl.” He grunted, pulsing hotly inside you as he filled you up.

Both of you panted as you continued to drift from euphoria, your heart still beating wildly. You were warm, but your body shivered as he lifted you up. Your combined release slid from your aching cunt once he slipped free. You floated and wanted him to catch you, but you couldn’t put your arms around him.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered when you let out a whimper. He made quick work of untying your wrists so he could lay you down properly and wipe away the tears still on your cheeks. “I’m going to take the blindfold off.”

Your eyes stayed shut for a moment when Bucky removed it, but you cracked them open when you wanted to see him. Your vision slowly cleared as you blinked a few times, your mind still floating as he came into view. He called you an angel, but he was the one who had a halo around his head at the moment. A gorgeous angel who had unrightfully had his wings taken away. He smiled like he wanted to eat you alive, but his touch was nothing short of tender when he brought his hand to your face.

“So fucking beautiful. You did so well for me. Fuck, I just wanna clean you with my tongue and fill you up all over again,” he praised as you clenched around nothing and whined. As hot as it sounded, you needed a bit of rest after that. “Not tonight,” he smiled, keeping a hand on you as he grabbed a wipe.

A reason he had everything close by was because you craved his touch after sex. If he ever got too far away, you whimpered and reached for him. It made you feel needy, but he assured you that he needed to keep touching you just as badly.

It just wasn’t fair that he looked so composed.

Bucky continued to shower you with soft praise as he cleaned you up. It didn’t take him long before he wrapped the soft blanket around you, trembles moved through your entire body as he put his arms around you, too. He took aftercare very seriously. It was a way for you to feel cared for and nurtured while allowing your body and brain to return back to normal. He never wanted you to experience negativity or sadness after any sort of session, especially an intense one.

You were aware that he moved you closer in his arms and rested his cheek against the top of your head, but you weren't ready to speak yet. It always took you a minute to come back to yourself and he was never one to rush or push you. If relaxing in his embrace was what it took to return to the world, he was more than content to keep you in his arms.

At least, that was what he told you.

You opened your eyes after a few minutes. Your heartbeat was back to a steady rhythm, but you still weren't ready to move yet. You were warm and safe. Bucky was there to take care of you. But what about him?

Had you taken care of him?

Bucky had a faint smile on his face when you lifted your head, his shoulders relaxed and eyes soft. Like he was at ease with everything around him. “Welcome back, angel,” he whispered, peppering your face with light kisses.

“Hey,” you smiled tiredly, your voice a little hoarse as you brought a hand to his hair, happy that you could touch him again. Judging by the way his eyes slipped shut for a moment before he opened them, he missed your touch, too.

“You okay?”

“I am and so are you. You're okay.” It wasn't a question. Whatever haunted him earlier was gone.

For now.

He didn't tear his gaze away as he reached for the water behind him, which you gratefully accepted as he put it to your lips. “You amaze me, you know? You just came back to yourself, but you're talking about me being okay.”

“Isn’t that why you call me?” You asked with a small frown, taking another large sip. “To help you?”

His brows furrowed. “It’s not just about me. This is about you, too.”

You took one more drink before you could say something stupid. Yes, this was about you, too. How he didn't push too far. How he’d hold you after sex and talk with you because those things were important to you. How he made you feel cherished and wanted for a short while.

You just didn't want to admit that he was a constant in your mind. But would it be so wrong if you did? Even if he’d never date you, didn't he have a right to know how you felt?

Communication was key and you would have to eventually tell him if those feelings persisted.

“It’s about both of us and I just want you to be okay,” is what you said because it was the truth.

He set the water aside and cupped your cheek, his calloused hand a little cool, but nice. You almost wished you could hide from his knowing eyes, but he didn’t press you for more. “I am now,” he said, swallowing a little. “I just couldn't let you see me tonight.”

Worry filled his eyes like he may have upset you, but you shook your head. You had seen his scars, but he was never obligated to show you his body. “You're letting me see you now,” you said, scooting closer as he brought your wrist to his mouth to kiss it.

You thought about how the evening played out. How he asked if you thought he was a good man. How he demanded that you speak his name. And how he said he deserved you. Either something happened while he was gone or someone said or did something to get to him. You wished you knew what it was since he didn’t expand on what had been eating away at him before.

“And before you ask, you didn't hurt me,” you told him, knowing the question was coming. You appreciated that he cared enough to check.

He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Good because I’d never stop hating myself if I did,” he admitted, looking at the ceiling for a moment. “You don't deserve that kind of pain.”

Your heart swelled, not letting any past hurt enter your mind. He made you believe that you deserved better than what you had. It was a good feeling.

“Neither do you. And that's a reason why safewords exist. Both of us can use them,” you reminded him. Like aftercare, he took the words seriously. He listened to you. And if he ever got overwhelmed, he had every right to stop it the same way you did. “So no self-hate tonight.”

He huffed in mock annoyance. “Yes, ma’am. And speaking of self-hate,” he teased, tilting his head to look your way. “I really don’t want to go to therapy tomorrow.”

There was a forced calmness in his blue eyes as you assessed him. “You still don’t like your therapist,” you stated.

One of the conditions of his pardon was that he had to go to therapy. It was meant to help him process his thoughts and past experiences in order to work through them. Though he didn’t tell you what went on in his sessions as it was none of your business, he didn’t keep it a secret from you that the doctor was far from his favorite person.

You wondered if Bucky told her about you.

“What’s there to like?” He asked.

You smiled a little, knowing better than to poke the bear and say she probably wasn't that bad. “Well, being able to speak to someone who provides non-judgemental and empathetic support is one thing.”

“That’s why I like talking to you,” he said, the affection in his voice making your heart skip a beat.

“Oh,” you said, not sure what else to say.

Moments like that made you think he cared. No, that wasn’t right. You knew he cared about you. But hearing things like that made you feel like there was hope for more and he wasn’t ready for that.

Hope was both a wonderful and dangerous thing.

“Have you met anyone else?” He asked suddenly, moving his hand to your back.

It was a question Bucky asked every time he had you over. He said from the start if there was another man in your life that you’d rather be with, someone who could offer you more, he’d step aside. There wasn't anyone else. You didn't want anyone else.

And while it was admirable that he would walk away if that ever changed, your heart ached at the thought that he’d easily let you go. Because at the end of the day he wasn't ready for a relationship. Not yet.

Even if he was, who said he wanted one with you?

“No, I haven't met anyone,” you said, feeling the warm breath of his exhale against your skin as his hand moved up and down your back. It relaxed you more and you found yourself fighting a yawn. “Have you?”

“No,” he chuckled. The crinkles by his eyes made him look carefree. “Not since you saved me.”

You shut your eyes, afraid that tears would well up if you looked at him. “I didn't save you. All I did was buy you a coffee one afternoon,” you whispered dismissively.

That day changed your life.

“I’m going to let that slide since you're sleepy, but I’m going to remind you when you're wide awake that you did a lot more than that,” he spoke. He held you a little tighter when you stayed quiet. You were more tired than you thought. “Get some sleep, angel. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You let your eyes shut at his command. “Thank you for taking care of me, Bucky.”

“Thank you for taking a chance on me.”

There was something else unspoken in the air, but a tender kiss to your forehead stopped you from reading too deeply into it.

In the morning, he’d send you back to your place after he made you breakfast. He’d text you later to make sure you were okay. He would continue to check in and you would do your best not to fall for him more. Because one day he wouldn't need you anymore. You didn't know when that day would come, but tonight you could indulge in the fantasy that Bucky wanted you to be his girl.

Permanently.

I just want these two happy and together. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[gabriellessworldd]

Do i make you nervous?

shy, nerdy Armin x bold black fem reader

wc- 1.4k!

☆ warnings ☆: js a lil smth for my armin girlies! very light smut nth too crazy 18+, oral (f receive, you sit on his face 😛), armin is obsessed with you, so when you asked him to be your tutor he thanked his lucky stars.

"Excuse me, Miss L/n, could you stay after class, there's a pressing matter." your chemistry professor Mrs. Clark announced whilst sending you a look after she graded your assignment. "Yea i'll stay." you mumbled opening up your macbook, checking the damage, '13% no. fucking. way.' sure you weren't the best student but it was never this bad.

Class was finally over and honestly you wanted nothing more than to go back to your apartment and take a long ass nap. "Miss L/n, don't keep me waiting! Come here please." honestly you didn't want to hear what she had to say, but if you wanted to pass this class you would have to work your ass off. "Yes ma'am, what's the matter?" you were trying to be polite and sweet so maybe she'd have mercy on you but, that plan didn't work.

After 25 minutes of her lecturing you about your grades, she finally offered some help. "I would suggest you get a tutor, it could give you that extra push you need. Hearing the same stuff from me everyday clearly isn't helping you." She looks at you and shrugs, "You can see yourself out now, enjoy your afternoon." As much as she annoyed you, your professor was right, and you had the perfect tutor in mind.

Armin Arlert. Not only was he smart as fuck but he also had a gorgeous face. It made perfect sense, if that pretty boy had been teaching you chemistry you probably would've had perfect attendance and 100's on all your assignments. You saw him walking off campus and rushed after him, you weren't sure if he would help, but what's the harm in asking?

"Hey Armin!" he turned around looking for who was calling him then he spotted you waving him down. 'is y/n looking for me?' he felt his stomach do an olympic level gymnastic routine (😜) and swallowed the lump in his throat. He was captivated by you, there was just something so perfect about you. The way you laughed, your voice, your beautiful eyes, your entire being had him enthralled.

He walked over to you, "h-hey y/n" he tried not to get too nervous but the small voice crack gave him away. "hi! i was wondering if you could do me a favor?" you batted your eyelashes and smiled brightly. "o-oh! y-yea of course, what's the matter?" he said it almost too quickly, Armin was just glad he could talk to you. You studied his face, it was perfect, the way his glasses sat on his face, the pink tint on his lightly freckled cheeks, even his pink plump lips. 'wait, why is he blushing?' you smiled at the thought, this would be so easy.

"s-so you need m-me to tutor y-you?" he stumbled over his words, an hour and thirty minutes alone with you, luck really was on his side today. "Yup, that's it! Think we could start today?" you checked the time, it was 3:47. "You could come to my house now if you're free! There aren't any distractions and it would be just me nd you!" There was no way Armin was turning this down, "yes that works for me." 'fuck yea i finally made it through a sentence without stuttering' he smiled softly showing his teeth, and your knees nearly buckled.

You opened your door, the scent of vanilla and strawberries clouded Armin. Your place was comfy nd clean, "You can sit at the table over there, I need to shower quickly if you don't mind!" He nodded his head 'i can't believe im in y/n's house right now' he pulled out his textbook nd laptop, not that he would really need it.

"Thank you so much for waiting!" you walked out of your room in your pj's and matching house slippers. "You want anything to drink? I've got dr pepper, pineapple fanta, nd water." Armin watched you walk to the kitchen, your small shorts shrinking with every step, "u-uhm dr pepper is fine. thanks." You sat back down with the two drinks, your boobs bounced slightly in your exposed cheetah print push up bra. you noticed Armin's face heat up and slightly turn pink, you decided to tease him.

you leaned over the table and showing more cleavage and placed your hand on his arm, "Do you mind explaining this to me? I don't get it" Armin tried not to make eye contact with you and took a sip of his drink, but when he finally gave in your seductive eyes almost killed him. He choked on the dr pepper, "um y-yea it's dea-" "Wait.. do i make you nervous?" you cut him off, not caring about chemistry anymore, that assignment could wait.

You scooted closer to Armin and leaned in close to his face, "you're a very pretty boy Armin, did you know that?" You looked at his lips and back at his eyes, "n-no I've ne-never-" You went to kiss him and he immediately took the chance. His soft hands instantly squeezed your tits, and you ran your fingers through his soft blonde hair. The kiss was sweet but it was also passionate, it felt desperate like you both needed more. Armin slid down the straps to your top and bra, freeing your boobs. His soft hands pinched and rolled your nipples, you softly moaned into his mouth and he slipped his tongue in. But he still wanted more.

Armin pulled away from the kiss, face flushed and cheeks red, with a light sheen on his lips from your lip gloss. He lowered his mouth to your right nipple, slipping it in while still playing with the left. Your hands were still tangled in his hair, tugging at his locks. Armin left hickeys all over your chest, wanting to mark you, he needed to know that this wasn't a deluded dream and that you were right there letting him touch you. He looked up at you while sliding your tit out of his mouth with a pop, "c-can we go to your room?" his face was filled with lust, he looked so divine. "of course" you stood up and grabbed his hand, leading him to your room. Armin was anxious obviously, but the was something he needed.

You laid in your bed with your legs propped up on Armin's shoulders as he sloppily ate you out. "Fuck Armin! right there please!" He sucked on your clit, he needed you to cum, he wanted to taste how sweet you were. "o-oh fuck armin, mmhm, right there" He came up, his lips covered in your arousal, " I want you to cum in my mouth y/n." He went back to sucking your clit, you felt a familiar pressure build up in the lower half of your stomach,"a-ah mm armin. That feels soo good!" You could feel yourself about to unravel as he pushed his tongue in and out of your hole. "Cmon y/n, c-cum for me, please." he felt you pulse on his tongue and pull his hair, he started getting sloppier.

Your thighs squeezed his head as you felt your high coming. "ah Armin 'm gonna cum, fuck!" you moaned out as he sucked on your clit, making you throw your head back and squeeze your eyes closed, mouth dangling open. You felt yourself squirt and looked down at Armin watching him lick up everything.

"Can, can you s-sit on my f-face?" He wanted you to say yes, he needed you to say yes. You looked at him puzzled, "You want me, to sit on your face?" "Yes. please y/n." You nodded your head at the blonde, Armin quickly sat down, laying down fully when he saw you stand over him. You straddled his face, not fully sitting down all the way. "Y/n sit down all the way please, I promise I'll be alright." You listened and sat down.

"o-oh fuck armin, oh my god please!" his nose rubbed your sensitive clit as he continued tongue fucking you, his groans vibrated against your core. He loved the way you moaned, it sounded so heavenly, it was his new favorite sound. You needed more, you started to slowly grind on his face, "c-can you go faster y/n please." You picked up the pace, his tongue worked wonders, it was like Armin knew exactly what you liked. "a-ah Armin! 'm too sensitive, gonna cum again" You were on cloud nine, his tongue continued the ravaging pace. "c-cum for me sweetheart." The overstimulation and sloppy licks to your clit drove you over the edge "Fuck! ah Armin!" your vision went clouded as you came down from your high. Armin was satisfied, this was all he needed, to taste every bit of you.

a/n ☆: hiiii my lovebugs!! firstly i js wanna say i'm so grateful for all the interaction with "Never get yo bitch back!" also next part will be coming soon! lmk if y'all wanna get tagged in my future projects!! (y'all like the color switch for different characters or js keep pink?)

-with lots of love, gabrielle <3

[gh0st-t0wn3]

I finally had time to make proper designs for the Trio!

Redson: Ver 1

Ver 2

I couldn't decide on if I liked it better with the braids or not so I just posted both, but anyways!

I gotta admit, I used to not like the idea of redson having Bull features (except for a small pair of horn maybe) but the concept really grew on me and now I really love it and wanted to try making my own design and I'm really proud with how it turned out.

I would've added more scars, since Guanyins throne pierced his entire body, but there came a point where it just looked like there was too much going on so I had to get rid of a few scars to tone it down, so we're just gonna say they faded over time, okay? Okay.

I also made him Miao (one of the largest ethnic minorities in southwest China) on PIF's side, and Mongolian on DBK's.

The Miao ethnicity of China has a long history, rich culture, and an ancient folk religion. Adorned in beautiful traditional clothes, possessing natural talent for singing and dancing, they live in uniquely designed indigenous architecture, which I think fits perfectly with how I imagined Princess Iron Fan and with her; Redson.

As for DBK being Mongolian, I saw someone else talking about this headcanon and I just liked it so I decided to use it, I don't really have a specific reason for it, I just thought it fit, not sure why though, it's just one of those things that makes sense even if you don't know why, you know?

Mei:

I made her taller and gave her a long dragon tail (like really long, it drags along the floor if she's not holding it up), though her scales are pretty much everywhere across her body they're most noticeable on her shoulders, thighs, and face (they're a bit hard to see in this photo because they're kinda hidden behind her hair, but I did give her scales beside her eyes)

I also gave her horns these little spiral designs around them, gave her sharper nails, and designed her ears to look like coral, since she's a water dragon and I thought they looked cool.

Honestly idk what else to say about her design, I didn't have anything specific in mind when designing her, I kinda just had to wing it, but I'm happy with how it turned out :)

(I also made her Bengali, on her dad's side, but it's not really important or has any reason behind it, just a headcanon I've had for a while, don't know where it came from though)

MK:

Alot of people have speculated that the monkey form we see during the fight against Azure in season 4 isn't MK's full form yet, that we're just seeing a fraction of what he's yet to become, based on the fact that while he has the weird side burns, the tail and the face marking, he also lacks a natural skin tone, they didn't give him a proper nose etc, so I wanted to play with the idea.

I decided to make him this strange mix between human and monkey, leaving him pretty much human with the addition of his tail(s), and weird li'l monkey feet.

(I was also gonna give MK more arm/leg hair, it was in my first sketch, but I forgot to add them when I was doing the line art and didn't realize until after I saved it as a jpeg, so that's my bad, but I'm gonna add it in to any other art I make)

It's also a bit hard to see in this, but I designed his staff with more details, specifically adding dragon-esque imagery to the Golden ends, this is because (for anyone who's new to the fandom/hasn't read JTTW) Wukong's staff was originally one of the several pillars that held up the sea in the dragon palace, until he stole it and shrunk it down to use as his weapon.

I also did MK's clones :)

Porty MK:

I gave him stripes of coloured hair and gave his tails all different colours, though I don't think he would actually dye it, instead I like to think that he would use that really crappy dollar store spray in hair dye (or hair chalk). I kept the fishnet clothes that I added in my originally design of him for my headcanons post, and decided to give him striped elbow length fingerless gloves.

I also gave him a cropped shirt, ripped shorts and these weird fingerless glove-esque shoes for convenience, since regular shows seem like they would be uncomfortable.

Edit: my dumbass forgot Porty's stupid print jacket 😭

Artist MK:

For Artist MK I gave him overalls and a jacket over it, which he wears specifically for when he's doing paintings so he doesn't ruin too many of his actual clothes (I know I said that this was inspod by Circusapple, which it still is, but this is almost exactly what I wear when I'm painting too, just in different colours).

I also gave him those gloves that digital artists wear so they're hands don't accidently trigger something on the screen because everyone knows that every artist just walks around with their art glove on even when it's not necessary.

Delivery MK:

I have to admit, I was never a big fan of MK's work uniform just being his regular clothes with a work jacket thrown over it so I wanted to try and make him look a little more professional and decided to instead give him a chef coat (similar to the one Pigsy wears on the show as well), with a logo for the restaurant on the chest, along with it I gave him plain black pants, since casual red jeans didn't seem very professional (I know he's just a delivery person, but if you were to look at pretty much any food corporation, even people who do deliveries have to wear uniform, so it's always been kinda strange to me that he's just in regular clothes). 

The shoes were harder to make professional given the whole "half-monkey" thing so I opted to give him the same strange fingerless glove-esque shoes for comfort and convenience, but made them plain black as well.

[floatingaimlessly333]

>:)

Teen!Simon getting teased teen!Roba + gang at his new school and Johnny stands up for him, shouting at Roba in Gaelic

It was always the same shit. Didn't matter where, didn't matter when, didn't matter who. It was always the same shit.

Simon Riley was destined to be ridiculed and tormented wherever he went, so it was damn stupid of him to think switching schools would change that. It was only a week into the new term, and he had already become the target of another group of arseholes who thought they were better than him. The boys at the group home, his shitty excuse for a father, and now his newest torturer, Manuel Roba; it was like each of them could sense that he was weak, that he was lesser.

Simon had been trying so fucking hard to just ignore Roba and his lackeys. He's sure Nik and Price would be pissed if he got into a fight before they even hit the two week mark, but he couldn't stand it anymore. Every single second he wasn't in a classroom, he had to face jeers and insults and grabs for his mask. He was constantly on the edge of snapping, and he felt powerless to stop what seemed so inevitable at this point.

His only saving grace was Johnny.

Whenever he was able to find a moment of peace amidst all of the chaos, Johnny was right there beside him. But today, he was nowhere in sight. Simon had even gone so far as to actively search for the older boy, but he wasn't in his usual spots. The only thing his hunt did was land him right in the middle of Roba's warpath.

"Where have you been, English? It's almost like you've been avoiding me. Why would you do that, perro cachorro?" Simon could barely suppress a growl at hearing the other boy's taunts. He knew that would just bring on more dog comparisons.

"Roba-"

"Ah, ah, ah. I didn't say speak. Did you forget your commands already? Don't worry, perrito, I'm a very patient trainer."

This is exactly what Simon had been trying to avoid. He knew lashing out wouldn't do him any good, in the long run. It wouldn't stop the bullying. And then all his new teachers would know just how much trouble he was. But he couldn't fucking take it anymore.

He was preparing himself to throw the first punch when he heard footsteps hurrying towards them down the hallway.

"Och, ye fuckin' bawbags! Leave 'im the fuck alone!!" The accent alone clued Simon into the identity of his savior, and he looked up to see his knight in shining footie gear. Honestly, Johnny looked sort of like an angry porcupine at the moment, with sweat making his mohawk look even wilder than usual.

"This isn't your fight, Mactavish. Leave English and I to our little chat."

"Chattin' ma arse. Piss. Off."

Simon had been so busy watching Johnny that he hadn't noticed Roba steadily getting closer until the shorter boy grabbed him by the collar of his hoodie.

"We were just teasing him, hombre. You were having fun, weren't you, English?" Roba gave Simon a firm shake, causing him to hit the set of lockers behind him.

Once again, Simon didn't have time to speak before Johnny was jumping in to save his arse. The angry Scott rammed full speed into Roba, spending the bully careening backwards into his little gang of dickheads.

"Ah said FUCK OFF, YE SACK OF DICKS!!! Na bean ris a-rithist!!! No gearraidh mi dhiot do làmhan! And then I'll shove them up yer flabby arse!!"

Even as Roba and his crew made their slow retreat down the hall, Johnny continued shouting at them in a language Simon couldn't understand. He didn't stop until the other boys were fully out of sight, and even then he let loose a few more words that Si was sure must've been curses.

"If ah dinnae have a football game on Friday, ah would've kicked his arse for ye." He spun around to give Simon a once-over, making sure he wasn't hurt. Satisfied that the other boy was as okay as he could be, he extended his hand towards him. "Well, ahm bloody starving. Wannae go get lunch?"

Speechless, and with a raging blush creeping across his face, Simon took Johnny's hand. And suddenly, all thoughts of Roba and his goons left his mind. He had much better things to focus on at the moment.

Uh oh, this once again came out way longer than expected. >:)

Warning, I speak neither Spanish nor Gaelic, so these translations might not be accurate.

Spanish: perro cachorro=puppy dog; perrito=puppy

Gaelic: Na bean ris a-rithist=Do not touch him again; No gearraidh mi dhiot do làmhan= Or I will cut your hands off

[the-kr8tor]

I'll keep saving you over and over again.

Pairing: Hobie Brown x GN Reader/ Spider-Punk x GN reader

Word count: 1.2k

Synopsis: Spider-Punk saves you twice in one day, unbeknownst to you, Spider-Punk and your boyfriend of 2 years are one and the same.

Tags: tw Blood, established relationship, fluff with a hint of angst. Near death experience.

* I do not consent to having my work translated and/or published on other platforms*

Living in London has its perks, good food, walkable streets, and its very own Spider-Man, or some people like to call him Spider-Punk. You like Spider-Punk, you even have a tiny crush on the man. But of course no one can ever replace the love of your life, Hobie Brown. you two became quick friends the moment you were introduced to Hobie, a few months later, your friendship became much more than that. You've been together for a couple of years now, he made your move to London much more bearable, you honestly would've moved back home a long time ago if it weren't for him. You haven't been this happy in a long time.

Well at least you would be, if you weren't running away from this week's villain.

You were on your way home, when a crowd started running towards you, with a sense of self preservation, you ran with them. Knowing this was London, where there's always a villain of the week attacking its historic streets, you kept running away with the crowd without asking anyone what you're running away from. Best case scenario you're in a prank show, worst case, the Green Goblin's up your ass, so you kept running.

Your lungs burn, your ankles getting weaker with every step. 'I need to start doing cardio' you thought. There's a sudden crash behind you, slowly smoke and debris fill your surroundings. Screams can be heard from various directions.

This is definitely not a prank.

With a burst of adrenaline you ran faster than you've ever had in your entire life. Without looking where your feet landed, you accidentally tripped on a piece of debris, you felt gravity take its course. You close your eyes instinctively, before you face planted you heard a thwip sound behind you. Instead of the cold concrete meeting your face, you felt a sturdy body holding you. Slowly opening your eyes, praying to every deity that the one holding you isn't actually Green Goblin or worse, the Vulture.

Instead you meet Spider-Man's iconic mask, the spikes on his head would've looked menacing for other people, but to you it was hope, a reassurance that you would come back home, back to Hobie. He looked down to see the giddy smile on your face, wordlessly he tilted his head in curiosity. He finally set you back down in a plaza where people are gathering.

"Were we swinging?" You asked, swaying, trying to find your footing.

He tilted his head again, adorable you thought.

"Are you-" he cleared his throat, "Are you alright lo-?"

Weirdly enough he spoke in a much higher voice when he corrected himself. But you didn't pay it any attention, adrenaline still rushing through you.

"You're THE Spider-Man! I can't believe it! I just got saved by Spider-Man himself!" You gestured at him animatedly.

"You're definitely alright" He pointed out with a small laugh.

If you weren't fangirling so much you would've noticed the relief in his voice, and how his shoulder relaxed a bit.

"Please stay here" He instructed

"But-" Before you could get a word in, he's already swinging back to the fight.

"I can't believe it! I can't wait to tell hobie!" realization hit you, "oh God! Hobie! He must be so worried" quickly grabbing your phone from your coat pocket you open it, your lockscreen of a selfie of both you and Hobie filling the screen. You call Hobie.

It rings once, before an explosion nearby blasts the sheer force of the explosion knocks you on the ground. The plaza erupts into chaos. You look up and see the gigantic marble statue that once stood in the middle of the plaza, now falling towards you. Everyone's running away from the falling mass. But you just sat there frozen in fear. You're still holding onto your phone, hearing Hobie's voicemail wake you up from your stupor, you pick yourself up and run away from the falling mass. With dust and tears hindering you from seeing where you're running. A wall meets your face, you get knocked down, you look back, the statue still tumbling towards you rapidly. Your life flashes before your eyes. From the corner of your eye you get a glimpse of Hobie's face from your lock screen. You close your eyes to face your fate.

Suddenly an eerie silence seemed to blanket the entire plaza, the only thing you could hear was your own breathing. You open your eyes to see how you're still alive. The smoke clouding the plaza slowly dissipates and you finally get a good look at what's in front of you. A white marble statue holding up a spear fell with its spear pointed at your figure, its tip mere inches away from your neck.

You try not to move or the blade could skewer you. You try to back away but the wall stops you from doing so. You squint at the rest of the statue, web clung to it like a net, stopping it from its tracks. At the end of the web you see a red and blue silhouette dragging it away from you. The body of the humanoid Lizard lay a few feet behind him, with Spider-Man's guitar broken in half next to it.

He saved you for the second time.

He shoots his web towards you, he lands next to your figure. For the second time that day he asks you the same question.

"Are you alright?" He asks breathlessly. His heart beating a thousand times per second, the whites of his mask roam your body for any injuries.

Instead of answering him with the same smile, and energetic words, your lips turn into a frown. You try to bite your lip so that tears wouldn't fall from your already blurry eyes. Slowly blood starts seeping out from your nostrils.

The eyes of his mask widen at your face, he clenches his fists, if it weren't for the gloves acting as a barrier, he would've drawn blood. Hobie exhales, grounding him.

" 'm going to get you out, ready?"

You don't nod in fear of getting nicked by the statue, but you managed to let out a small "Yes"

Without thinking he grabs the front of your neck softly. His hand acts as a wall between your neck and the spear. In turn the tip of the weapon nicks him, crimson flows from the back of his hand. The eyes of his mask looked determined. Despite the pain he slowly slides you towards him. More blood seeps from his hand as you both move in tandem. Everytime you both move the nick turns into a longer gash. You felt his pain, wanting to grab his hand and replace it with your own. Before you could do just that, he finally gets you out with one final pull.

You both fall to the ground, you on top of him. Relieved that you're out of danger, you cry on his shoulder. Hobie cradles your head with his injured hand, you feel the warm liquid drip down on your neck. He could finally breathe, he holds onto you harder, like you're gonna turn to dust right in his arms. Hobie focuses on his breathing trying to calm himself down. If he wasn't so focused in regulating his breathing, he would've noticed your stiff reaction and realization marking your face on why the embrace was so familiar.

A/n: Hope you enjoyed reading! Feel free to like and reblog 💗

[bonny-kookoo]

𝓛𝓪𝓬𝓻𝔂𝓶𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓪 𝓞𝓵𝓸𝓻 yoongi is so 😩🫶🏽🫶🏽need more of him and oc , their story is so interesting!!

He really is so hot I can't lie (this is a bit violent? It's a small glimpse into the fight he had with Jungkook)

Jungkook has always been an opponent he'd admit to be an equal to him- but also someone who was meant to one day grow beyond what Yoongi had taught him.

He's young, but Yoongi respects him for his strengths- though right now, he could really use some more of his own, the younger King slowly overpowering him with each step he takes towards him, swords clashing as Yoongi begins to slip up, rather concerned with defending himself now instead of attacking. The fight has been going on for way too long. Yoongi can feel his body slowly exhausting.

Jungkook has the upper hand. And he knows it.

Yoongi's thoughts are racing, a decision needing to be made in this moment, especially when his sword is taken from him, falling to the ground after his hand had been kicked too hard with the dull edge of Jungkook's. It all happens fast after that, the young King taking his chance to tackle the older one, sword having slashed over his face, before Jungkook is basically on top of the other king on the ground, pointing the sword right over his neck in the familiar way of execution.

Jungkook doesn't want to do this- but it's the way of life for him and his kind.

"Will you come back?" You ask Yoongi, worry clear on your face as you watch him prepare his journey after being challenged.

"If I win, I will return to you." He responds honestly, because that is the only answer he can really give you. "And my body will return to you either way."

"But I want you- not just your physical form.!" You press, desperate, even though you know there is no way to convince him to not go and stay instead. That's not the way of his kind, and that's not something he could ever do as a king either.

He has accepted the challenge already.

"Yoongi?" You ask, and he turns at that, since you've just used his actual name for the first time ever- and he's not used to hearing his name anymore, hasn't heard it in quite a long time.

And he's especially never heard it said so tenderly ever before.

"What is it?" He asks, and you just walk a bit closer, leaning against him for a hug he only reluctantly returns- gestures of affection like that foreign to him.

"I'm scared." You admit. And he simply places a hand on your head, face gentle as he looks down at you.

"There is no reason for fear." He denies. "Trust in me that I've made preparations in the case of my death." The king tells you. "You will be well cared for."

"But I'll be lonely again." You say.

And somehow, he can feel a harsh sting in his chest at your words.

"I surrender." Yoongi says, eyes staring up at Jungkook, who's staring back with eyes wide open in shock at what he's just heard.

He would've never thought that Yoongi, his senior and former mentor of all people, would do something as shameful as surrender in the eyes of death.

"The King of Yuirus has surrendered." The overseer calls out openly, crowds cheering and others gasping in shock of the sudden twist of events.

Jungkook only reluctantly gets up, watching how Yoongi is slowly helped up by his own advisor, multiple maids immediately placing something over his eye to stop the bleeding wound.

"Why?" Jungkook breathes out, grip on his sword without any tension anymore, body in complete shock. "Why would you do that?" He demands to know with angrily teared up eyes, feeling heartbroken at the sight and decision of his old friend, a certain sense of betrayal inside of him since the man who always taught him to see things through till the end just surrendered.

Yoongi looks at the young king with his still intact eye, before he speaks.

"One day you'll understand."

[ghostgorlsworld]

Johnny Boy (Part 7)

Werewolf! Johnny x reader

part one is here

Once upon a time, you would've done anything for John Mctavish. He had been your older brother's cool best friend, and you were always desperate for him to see you as more--until one fateful night that ends up with you pregnant and him...gone. Fast forward six years and you've made a good life for yourself with your daughter Emma, with Johnny none the wiser. Until he decides to knock on your door.

Notes--Johnny is showing his true colors so the story is definitely getting a little darker.

You woke up hungover and embarrassed. 

You were old enough to know better and a mother for Christ’s sake–by all means too old to be making idiotic decisions that could shake the life you had spent over half a decade building. You could hardly remember what had led up to Johnny doing…the thing that he did, but you were sure you didn’t exactly put up a fight.

Tommy walked Emma back to your house shortly after seven, dressed for work. He pulled the makings of breakfast from the fridge, grumbling some nonsense about two full-grown wolf-soldiers eating him out of house and home. You were trying very hard not to do your walk of shame, refusing to look at the chair or the leftover pizza in the fridge. Emma, of course, was none the wiser, curling up in your lap to nuzzle at your face. 

“Did you have fun?” You asked, inspecting her for signs staying up too late. 

Emma nodded, beginning a long play-by-play of the previous night’s events, including a humorous addition of her forcing Simon to teach her card games. “We had ice cream after dinner,” she said, whispering it so Tommy wouldn’t hear. “Uncle Tom told me not to tell you.” 

Emma couldn’t keep a secret to save her life. You laughed and tickled her sensitive feet.

You couldn’t believe you had been so weak to let Johnny back in again. You couldn’t trust him, no matter what he said about his reasons for disappearing, and adding sex to the equation could only make things even worse.

“Johnny was out late last night,” Tommy said casually, cracking an egg into a pan. “He left after Emma went to bed.”

You couldn’t help but glance at the chair, trying very hard not to remember Johnny’s voice, wrecked and commanding, or his hands, or his tongue-

“I had an early night,” you said. “Charlie called for a raincheck.”

“Mm,” Tom said. “Scrambled?” You nodded, not missing Emma’s curious look. She really was too smart for her own good. 

The weekend passed uneventfully–you avoided Johnny by packing up Emma and spending a day in the city, finishing up your Christmas shopping in the shiny shops and taking Emma ice skating in the square. He called you once, but you quickly put Emma on the phone, your stomach aching just at the thought of talking to him.

Emma picked out a pair of red and white striped socks and a box of legos as a gift for her father. She was pleased with her choices, and you tried your very best to smile when she displayed them to you.

Johnny wasn’t even going to be around for Christmas, and that was something you needed to discuss with him. Your little girl couldn’t survive off of no letters or calls–after all, it nearly killed you. 

Monday comes with the first real snowfall of the year. You dressed in warm layers, sweaters and soft scarves, Emma’s face pink under the winter jacket you had strapped her in. 

Charlie was sitting by your desk at work, two cups of coffee in hand and your favorite pastry in front of your chair. He smiled as you unwound the scarf from your neck, looking appropriately guilty and embarrassed. “I wanted to apologize,” he said, passing you the coffee. “I…it was a dick move. I had a few already and confused the days–I er, I tried to call you in the morning when I had come to my senses but you didn’t answer.”

Honestly, you had forgotten about it completely. You raised a brow at the man. “I took Emma to the city for Christmas shopping. We were busy.” Charlie nodded. “Yeah, of course, it’s the holidays. I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry, I feel like I’ve fucked things up.”

You searched around for anger, or even mild irritation, but it was gone, used up entirely by Johnny. “It’s alright, Charlie, thanks for the coffee.” Charlie smiled again, relieved. You took a seat at your desk and listened to him chatter about drama with Chris and Jan at the copying machine. 

You watched his hands. They were good hands–man hands, if you will, pale hair on his knuckles and a silver ring on his thumb. Johnny’s hands were wide and thick with dark hair, his nail beds always worn raw from the shift from stubby human nails to sharp claws. 

Why were you comparing? What was wrong with you?

Why couldn’t you just let sleeping dogs lie?

Charlie claimed your attention once more, following you to the carts of books that needed shelves. “I was wondering…I know I’ve acted like a right bastard, but I was thinking I could make it up to you. How does dinner tomorrow sound? I’ll make the food and supply the wine, you just bring yourself.”

You wanted to say no. That meant that you would have to see if Julienne would keep Emma for a few more hours, not to mention your attraction to Charlie had taken a nose-dive when he ditched you the first time. If only your body held all men accountable–your issue with Johnny would be solved overnight.

That was the thing that made you consider it. Johnny. He was your kryptonite, your achilles heel, and you needed to burn his touch off your skin.

“Alright,” you said. “If I can get a sitter for the bear.” “Deal,” Charlie said, grinning. He kissed your cheek gently, mouth warm and chapped.

Johnny texted the next morning, asking if he could take you and Emma out to lunch on your break. He offered to drop her off at Juliene’s house as well, saving you the walk.

You needed to rip the bandaid off. He wasn’t going to stay away forever, and it didn’t matter he had eaten you out while you were very sad and very drunk, you couldn’t keep him away from Emma. 

“Em, do you want to see Johnny today?” You asked, hoping against hope she would shake her head.

Instead, your darling girl perked up, ears twitching as she nodded eagerly. The full moon was coming quickly, so her behavior was…off, her eyes growing brighter by the day. Johnny used to refuse to be around you on the week of the full moon. He disappeared from your house and would show back up a few days later, looking exhausted and on edge, twitching if you tried to touch him.

You sighed. 

Where should we meet you? 

Johnny’s reply was lightning quick. You still like Angelo’s?

Angelo’s was a sandwich shop you used to frequent with Johnny, you hadn’t been in ages. That’s fine.

Johnny texted back something enthusiastic and barely legible.

Julienne had agreed to watch Emma for a couple more hours without irritation, saying she could use the money for a fancy new garden gadget she had been eyeing. You planned on grabbing it for her for Christmas, a token of your appreciation for her help with Emma.

You were going to give Charlie one last chance, if this dinner didn’t pan out you would find some other patsy to take you out every other weekend. 

Johnny was going to be gone soon, after all, and Emma is unpredictable with these things. She could take it as easily as she took the death of her grandfather, or it could be…catastrophic. 

You eyed your phone, forcing yourself to do the hard thing that neither of you wanted to face. 

I was hoping you would talk to Emma about you leaving soon.

There. You said it. You tossed your phone on the bed and finished getting dressed, herding Emma to school before you forced yourself to look at his response.

Of course, hen, we’ll talk about it. 

Work went by quickly in your haze of anxiety. What would he say to Emma?

What would he say to you?

You didn’t expect him to be waiting at Emma’s school. He was leaning against his truck, all twinkly blue eyes and a sharp smile that reminded you that he left for you. Because he couldn’t control himself. 

Johnny was trying to be good. You see it now, you remembered the way he used to follow you home after school, walking close behind you like he thought someone was going to steal you away. He wouldn’t share food with anyone, not even Tom, but if you asked he would always tear whatever it was in half and put it on your plate. 

Johnny and Tom had been playing video games in the living room when you left for your first date. You were sixteen and he had just hit twenty one, and he had looked at poor Dan Hilton like he wanted to rip out his guts and serve them up with eggs.

You had chalked it up to brotherly feelings, or the simple fact that Johnny has never liked to share. 

To see it for what it was felt…odd. You had heard about wolves claiming human spouses, putting a bite on their throat like a wedding band and never, ever letting go.

“Hey,” you said tiredly. 

Johnny straightened–he wanted a hug, you could see it in the way his hands twitched. “I figured I would give the two of ye a ride, yeah? It’s fuckin’ freezin’ today.” “Alright,” you said, glancing at your phone. The bell should be ringing any minute, and Johnny’s attention would be on Emma and not you. His attention was dangerous, it made you stupid and reckless.

“I heard you’ve got a hot date tonight,” Johnny said, going straight for the jugular.  

You stiffened. “That’s none of your business.” “Ach, lass, you wound me.”

“Johnny, the other night…it was a mistake. I was drunk and lonely and you were there.” You didn’t think it was possible to hurt Johnny, but you did. It flashed across his eyes, his jaw tightening into a straight line. 

You felt your stomach twist–god you were handling this all wrong-

He took a step, tilting your chin up with the pad of his rough finger. He wanted you to look at him, to watch his pupils swallow up the bright blue of his eyes. “I’m not a good man, kitty. Hell, I’m not even a man, not really. I know I’ve hurt you, and I’ll repent every fuckin’ day for it, but if you let him touch you, I’ll gut him like a goddamn fish.” “How dare you-” you began, but Johnny gripped your chin then, pressing the tips of his claws into your skin lightly. “You want me,” Johnny said, his gaze hazy and wild as it dropped to your mouth. “Even now. I should bite you right here, make it real fucking simple for you.”

There it was–the wolf that he had hidden from you for so long, the killer wearing the skin of your brother’s best friend. You forced yourself to hold his stare, feeling the sharp prick of his claws on the delicate skin of your throat. 

“I want a proper husband, John,” you said softly. “I want a real father for my child, someone who will be there for the birthdays and graduations and holidays. I want someone to sleep beside me every night, someone that doesn’t make me do this alone.”

You knew you were driving a knife right between his ribs–you knew how badly this would hurt him. Johnny had spent his childhood not being right for his mother, not being human enough, gentle enough. 

His eyes were so bright and so lost. 

“I’ve been alone for six years, John. I don’t ever want Emma to know what that feels like.”

Johnny was silent, his breath coming fast and rough. “I’ll never let another man have you,” he rasped. “You’re mine. Both of you.” 

He pressed closer, nuzzling your jaw with a low growl. “I’ll be a good mate, hen, I suppose it’s only right that I prove myself before we have our next pup.”

“No!” You hissed, pushing him away. “Enough, Johnny. You’ll be gone soon and I’ll have to deal with the fallout as per fucking usual.”

Your words weren’t working–they were working him up instead, like Emma when she watched the neighbor’s squirrels chase each other in the trees. His heart thudded like a drum under your palm. 

“You’re making a scene, kitty,” he said slyly, tilting his head like he wanted nothing more than to give chase. “Now hush, we’ll talk about this later. Emma shouldn’t see Mum and Dad argue.” You opened your mouth to argue, so furious you could hardly think.  

“Mum?” Emma sang, bouncing out of the school. “Oh, Johnny!” She ran to him, the little traitor. Johnny smiled, his sharp edges softening as he swung her up into his arms. “Ach, my girl’s getting heavy,” he teased, nuzzling her face. She mimicked his movements, her smile bright and happy–they were scenting each other. 

You looked away. “C’mon you two,” you said, forcing your tone to lighten. “I only have an hour for lunch.”

You barely touch your food, your stomach twisting and turning in furious knots. A sandwich, your old favorite, sits in front of you, courtesy of Johnny.

The audacity of men. You were the one who had spent countless nights bouncing up and down the hallway with Emma in your arms, exhausted and sore, your breasts swollen and aching from her sharp teeth–yet, Johnny was quickly a new favorite. They were the same, after all, the same species, the same aggressive, needy temperament.

Johnny wiped a bit of mustard from Emma’s cheek, humming at her irritated whine. She was close to her shift, and her skin was sensitive. “Dinna fash, baby, it’s the moon,” he crooned, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of her head. “I woke up this morning w’my skin crawling.”

That was another bump in the road. Emma’s shifts had gotten harder and harder over the years, more anger, more pain, and the internet had barely any information about early childhood shifts. Jack hadn’t been concerned, saying Johnny had the same issues at that age–the only difference was that Johnny was a feral little thing that used to sneak out during the full moon and pick off the strays of London. Emma couldn’t bring herself to squash an ant, much less devour a cat or dog–but then Johnny hadn’t had much human influence, at least, not until you and Tommy. 

“Emma, tell your Ma that if she doesn’t eat, we’ll have to feed her ourselves,” Johnny said. He was smiling, but his eyes were sharp. 

Emma sniffed at your sandwich. “You didn’t have breakfast either, Mum,” she said accusingly. “You always tell me food is good for your brain.”

You cocked an eyebrow at her. “Maybe I’m not hungry.”

“Eat, kitty,” Johnny said, his tone rougher as if you were one of his soldiers. “You look dead on yer feet.” You took a bite, just to appease them. You could still feel the small, stinging cuts his claws had scraped on your jaw. 

[eitaababe]

EVEN IF IT'S A LIE !

chapter nineteen. tables turned.

[ a/n ; wowza i literally died anyways last part and then epilogue!]

[ warnings ; lil bit of cursing and a mention of virginity lol ]

series masterlist. | previous / epilogue

— written portion below.

you miss the way spiders face falls at your truth, but his tone hides it all too well.

"no," he breathes out honestly. "even- even if the whole thing went down the way it did, your truth is still your truth."

you laugh humorously, wiping away a few tears. "i probably sound crazy, huh?"

"you're not crazy for being in love, y/n," spider laughs with you, a hint of longing in his voice. "and you can't control who you love. and if you believe that someone can feel the same way about you, i can't blame you."

"you ever been in love, spider-boy?"

he peers down to look at you, really look at you, and he's grateful that you're too busy hiding your puffy eyes to notice the soft look in his eyes.

"yeah. i have."

"lucky girl." you smile at him, and spider can't help the way his heart squeezes when he looks at you. because he knows how you feel— it isn't the same.

because spider looks at you as if you're the world, and you look at him like just another friend.

and he hates that ao'nung wasn't smart enough to take the opportunity right in front of him.

— written portion.

"hi."

the one voice you've been dreading to hear, the one that used to whisper sweet nothings into your ear at night, is one you now wince at. you're met with ao'nung's tired eyes, and id you had any energy left, you'd be mad that he looks just as miserable as you.

"hey." is all you can bring yourself to say back, silently inviting him inside. he wastes no time, stepping in and letting the door fall closed behind him, sighing as he stands there— awkward and out of place.

and it doesn't feel right, seeing ao'nung without his confidence.

but as you watch him quietly, you realize, *maybe this is truest side of him you've ever gotten to see.*

"i-" he starts, breaking the silence before closing his mouth. you let the quiet brew even more, letting him collect his thoughts.

"when i said i love you, i really did mean it-"

"i don't care if you meant it or not," you snap suddenly, and he realizes that your silence is a lot scarier than what he originally thought. "you could tell me it over and over again and i honestly don't think it would make a difference right now."

"y/n, please-"

"for once would you shut up and just listen?" you say exasperated, needing an outlet for everything you've been feeling. "imagine getting asked out, falling in love, getting your fucking virginity taken, just to find out it was all a lie! and then you think coming over here and saying 'i love you' is gonna fix it?"

"i know it doesn't," ao'nung shakes his head, distraught as tears start to well. "and i know none of it was right. i'm not expecting to fix any of this but if i could do it again," he pauses, reaching for your hands. "then there's not a doubt i would."

you immediately retract your hands, scoffing. "stop," you say, voice quiet. "stop trying to justify yourself. you made a mistake. and not the type you can fix."

"so that's it? this is all- we're just- done?"

"there is no this, ao'nung. don't you get it? none of this was real. you made sure of it."

"please." he begs hopelessly, eyes shut.

any other day, any other time before this, you would've begged to have ao'nung like this. to have him pleading for your love and a chance to be with you.

but you know better now.

"you need to go." there’s a sense of finality in your voice, and ao'nung knows there's nothing he can say or do to fix this.

"i really am sorry, just know that," he says as he walks towards the door. "and whether you believe it or not," he breathes out shakily, at the doorframe.

"i love you."

you watch him slip out the room, and effectively out of your life.

[🏷️ ; taglist. / closed ] @loaksbitch @8resa @n7ytiri @yukichan67 @dearstell @halibanana @aonungmyaddiction @teyums @lightskinloak @ipoopedmypants47 @aonungmybf @il0veheartz @chittakii @jjkclub @universal-s1ut @ilovejakesullysdick @calums-betch @izuoyarmin @yeosxxx @cl0esblogg @alwayswndr @iheartamajiki @jenniferdixon05207 @manumanulau @myh3artttt @ilupearls @sugarrush-blush @be3flow3r @cupidsl0ve

[forever-rogue]

hi!I've gone through a rough few weeks.your Peter stories are really sweet and comforting to me, he's one of my comfort characters in general, and he has become better with your writing. I'm struggling with anxiety , and I hope I don't sound like I'm pressuring you to write anything , or something serious like that. if u have any upcoming stories like that, I'd love it. but ofc u don't have to do anything, this is just a big thank you for your writing 💝

AN | Hello my love, I hope you’re feeling better. I hope you enjoy some soft Peter ❤️

Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2k

Masterlist | Main | Peter

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Peter Parker was a lot of things…scientist, genius, photographer and Spider-Man. The other thing he was, which you both loved and hated at the same time, was being extremely perceptive. You wondered if that was just who he was, or if part of it was due to his heightened senses. He was a good, kind man though, and you figured that he'd always possessed a gentle, kind, empathetic heart. 

Which is why you really shouldn’t have been surprised to find standing outside your apartment door, flowers in one hand and a bag of snacks in the other, a soft, sweet smile on his face. Despite how downright shitty you’d been feeling lately, you couldn’t help but mirror his magnetic smile.

“Hi sweetheart,” he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. You felt giddy as soon as he pulled away, touching the spot where your skin had been blessed by his lips, “I don’t want to impose, so you’ve got two choices - you can take these and I leave or you can take these and I stay and we can hang or do whatever you like.”

“Hi Pete,” you grinned at him, the same lovely smile that made him weak in the knees, “‘m sorry I’ve been off lately; I’ve really missed you. W-will you stay?”

“Of course,” he would've done whatever you asked of him, but he was glad you wanted him to stay. It had been three days since he’d last seen you, three days too long, seventy-two hours too much, and he was missing you more than he’d care to admit, “I’d love to.”

“C’mon,” you took the flowers he offered you, a pretty combination of daisies, tulips, and carnations and wrapped your fingers around his wrist as you led him inside. You sighed softly as you inhaled the sweet scent of the flowers. Peter set the bag with snacks down on the kitchen counter and started to unpack everything, “these are beautiful, Pete. Thank you.”

“The prettiest flowers for my flower,” he was cheesing at you so ridiculously hard that it made you laugh softly, “I’m glad you like them…figured they might brighten your day a little bit.”

“Honestly, Peter,” you grabbed a vase and made quick work of filling it up with fresh water, sugar, and vinegar before trimming the ends of the stems. You arranged them neatly in the vase, and set them onto the counter, touching one of the soft, pretty petals, “you could get me a rock and I’d be thrilled. It doesn’t matter what the item is, it’s the fact that you thought of me in the first place.”

“I always think about you,” his confession was soft and a pretty pink flush colored cheeks, all the way to the tips of his years, “I love you, you know. Kinda crazy about you, in fact.”

“Peter,” you bit the inside of your cheek before shaking your head fondly at him, “I love you too. And I’m sorry, really, for the last week. It’s just been a rough few weeks.”

“I hope you know that you can always tell me what’s going on.” he reached over the counter and put his hand on your face, gently brushing his brush over the apple of your cheek, “or you don’t have to, if you don’t want to. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“You’re a good man, Peter Parker,” you walked over to him and without skipping a beat, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug. Peter had always been a backrub type of hugger and it was something you never grew tired of. You melted right into his body, letting his warmth and solidness envelope you. He swayed back and forth with you ever so slight before pulling back to take your face in his hands. He peppered your face in kisses, causing you to giggle softly at the ticklish sensation his touch created, “Pete!”

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he nudged his nose against yours before placing a lingering kiss to your lips, all saccharine and honey, “want me to stop?”

“Never,” you shook your head before letting him kiss you again, only pulling apart when you needed a breath of air. You doubted that he did, but appreciated the moment of pause nonetheless. Your hands found purchase on his chest as you mulled over your words for a few moments, “it’s really nothing even so bad or whatever, it almost feels silly to say it out loud, even though I know it’s not, but my anxiety has been bad lately and it just kind of makes me panic and shut everything out - as you well know by now.”

“Trust me,” he gently pushed a few rogue locks of hair out of your face, “I know the feeling all too well; which I know you know. It’s just like that sometimes, ya know? But as long as you know I’m here for you, that’s what matters.”

“And I’m here for you too,” you studied his handsome face before setting your eyes on his soft eyes; they were all warm chocolate and golden flecks. Soft to make your heart warm, and enough to make you melt, “my love. I’m going to be honest with you, as I always am, but I’m not really feeling up to much today.”

“Would you feel up to not doing anything today with me?” he asked softly and your eyes lit up. You gave him a soft nod and he relaxed, “how about a movie marathon? And maybe, but only if you’re feeling up to it, later we go out and grab dinner?”

“That sounds perfect to me,” your words quickly melted into a squeal of delight as he scooped you up into his arms and started  carrying you into the living room. He made it all seem so effortless and easy - although you supposed for him it was - setting you down on the couch gently, “silly man.”

“Maybe so,” he tutted as he grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over you, “but it’s only because I’m crazy for you, sweetheart. I’m gonna get all the snacks and make some popcorn if you want to cue up a movie. I’ll even let you pick!”

“What a fair and just man,” you peeked over the back of the couch to watch him. You liked how he moved around your place, like he’d always belonged there, so at home and at ease. You couldn’t wait for the day the two of you finally shared your own home together. The idea of a lifetime waking up next to Peter sounded like the best thing in the entire world. The idea of one day calling him your husband, the father of your children - everything - was more than you could have ever asked for. Almost as if he could hear your thoughts, he turned around and looked back at you, giving you a quick wink. 

Anxiety, among other things, really sucked and some days it felt like it was winning over everything, but it was moments like this that made everything worth it. There were hard days, but there were so much else than all the good days. Peter made sure of that; Peter was helpful and supportive in all the ways you needed him, Peter listened to you and gave you what you needed. You could only hope that you offered him the same in return. If nothing else, you would try, you would always try for him. 

“Alright,” he padded back into the living room, a big bowl of popcorn in his hands, perfectly seasoned and buttered. He set it down on the coffee table, and went back to get the sweets, but not before pausing to press a kiss to your forehead, “be right back, sweetheart.”

“Alright,” you nodded, staring at his retreating back, taking just a moment to admire his toned backside. He might have been yours already, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t appreciate the view, right? 

“I can feel you staring,” his words were filled with nothing but affection teasing and fond reverence, “take a picture, it’ll last longer!”

“That’s your specialty, not mine,” you called over your shoulder as you grabbed the remote and started scrolling through Netflix to find something that would suit both of you. This time when he came back, he had a bowl filled with all sorts of different candy, your favorites and his, “oh, Peter, you really spoil me.”

“It’s nothing that you don’t deserve,” he scooted under the blanket where you had lifted it and cuddled up next to you, pulling you into his strong, warm frame, “besides, sweetheart, you do all the same for me.” 

“I would do anything for you, Parker.”

“And I would do anything for you,” as if you didn’t know that. He proved that to you over and over again. Peter gently stroked your arm, lulling you into a sense of warmth and security, “what’s first up on the viewing menu?”

You hit play on the cheesy romantic comedy that you’d randomly selected and he sighed dramatically, “sorry, my love, that’s what happens when you let me pick the movie.”

“I guess I’ll allow it,” he grabbed the popcorn and popped a piece into his mouth, smiling when you dipped your hand into the bowl and grabbed a big handful, “the things I do for love.”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t like a good romance film like the rest of us,” you rested your head on his chest, grounding yourself in the familiar and steady beat of his heart. If you didn’t know about his enhanced sense and powers, you might have missed the way his heart beat just a little faster than normal, “now hush and watch…but continue to cuddle me…please.”

“I can handle that,” he agreed happily, “but first, pass me some of that candy!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was about two movies and several hours later that found you staring at him, studying his features and paying more attention to him rather than the movie. He didn’t let on at first that he knew you were watching but eventually the boy couldn’t hold back any longer and turned his gaze onto you, “what’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Nothing,” you promised, reaching over and taking his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together, “nothing at all. It’s just…I love you. Really. You’re a good man, Peter and you’re always so supportive of me in all the ways I need. You’re patient and kind and all the most wonderful things. I know that I’m not the easiest person to deal with, but I hope you know how much I love you. It’s a lot, like all the love in the world.”

“Funny,” he brought your entwined hands to his lips as he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, “I happen to love you just as much and more. It’s not like I’m the easiest person to deal with either. I have my own struggles, and you know the whole Spider-Man thing. But you’re always by my side, and that means more to me than I could ever put into words.”

“Yeah?” you felt stinging at the back of your eyes as you blinked away your tears.

“Yeah,” he tugged on your hand and gently pulled you into his lap. The two of you looked at each other, breathing slowly and softly, “it’s always gonna be us. Always.”

“Always,” you whispered softly, his lips ghosting over yours before he kissed you again, “always.”

[emeryhiro]

Do you think Carol would have continued to stay with Ezekiel had Henry not died? For me, Carol's married era in the Kingdom is a conundrum - because on the one hand, I love that she got to experience some peace and happiness after being put through the wringer both emotionally and mentally. I love that she was able to save Henry and at least partly come to peace with the fact that she was able to find and save this kid - when she has lost so many in the past (which makes it all the more heartbreaking she has go through all of that again in s10 - I love s10 but it so emotionally hard to watch as a Carol fan). But - in the second half of s9 whenever Carol is shown in the Kingdom, it feels a little wrong - like maybe she doesn't belong. She is smiling so widely and brightly - and it is so great to see her lighthearted - but something somewhere just feels off. Even her appearance - her clothes - they don't feel like her. I can't quite pinpoint it. Or I could be just looking at it through shipper goggles. Lol.

I absolutely adore your narrative breakdowns of these two. I don't have much hope for Caryl in TBOC but I am definitely looking forward to your analysis of the episodes to come.

Hi Anon 😊

Thank you so much for the kind words! They truly mean so much to me 🩵🩵🩵

I already have my thoughts/breakdown of TBOC episode 1 written up, which should be posted as soon as episode 1 is released to everyone. I honestly can't wait for everyone to see it and get everyone's thoughts on it as well.

Now, regarding your question...

This is such a good question, and I really had to think about it for a bit to be able to express my thoughts properly.

The short answer is yes, but ultimately, no. I think Carol would have stayed with Ezekiel if Henry had lived, at least for as long as they were in a good place. I know that seems like a cop-out of an answer, but I'll flesh it out a little bit.

Carol was happy enough with Ezekiel, and she would have probably continued to be with him until their situation changed and they had to go through some form of hardship as they naturally would've at some point or another in an apocalypse. Even if it wasn't for losing Henry, there would have been something else that would have pulled them apart because despite them being happy enough, their relationship lacked the depth to withstand severe adversity. They loved each other, but they weren't IN love, if you know what I mean.

If by some miracle they didn't face any hardship of any kind, then yep they probably would stay together for two main reasons (and trust me, this hurts my Caryl shipper heart to say):

Loyalty/Convenience: As we've seen, Carol is an incredibly loyal person. We don't know Ezekiel as well as we know Carol, but from what I could tell, he seems to be a very loyal person as well.

Trauma/Sacrifice: The only person that Carol would hypothetically leave Ezekiel for would be Daryl. But both Carol and Daryl have experienced way too much trauma to actually come clean about their feelings, not unless something huge happened to push them to do so. Daryl would never ever think he's good enough for Carol, or that he could make her happy compared to how Ezekiel appeared to make her. And Carol would feel the exact same way about Daryl, and she'd also be content with (as you said) the peace and happiness of staying with Ezekiel because she would never think she deserved anything better than that.

Ultimately, the perfect circumstances that would have kept Carol and Ezekiel together are near impossible in the world they live in. Starting a family with Ezekiel and Henry definitely helped Carol heal from some of her past trauma with Ed and Sofia, but ultimately the deeper traumas and wounds that she had yet to face and heal from (as she will in TBOC) would have never healed if she stayed with Ezekiel. They would have eventually been naturally pulled apart because neither is made for the other.

I also think that Carol always sensed/knew that her relationship with Ezekiel had an expiration date, and she had probably prepared for that inevitable end from the start of the relationship, while Ezekiel on the other hand, was less willing to accept that their relationship was at its end when Carol tried to return the ring in S9EP16.

Regarding Caryl...

I honestly don't blame you for not having much hope for Caryl, especially with all the mixed messages being sent around with the current publicity campaign. And I'm not sure if this will mean anything or change anything for you, but I'm personally still confident that canon is where we're heading. And as I've said in my previous posts, especially in the summary section of my last one (here), it makes sense (at least to me) for them to wait until season 3 to finally make Caryl officially canon.

I'm just gonna fangirl here for a second, but I believe (since the first time I saw them 12 years ago) that Carol and Daryl are soulmates, and I don't just mean platonic soulmates, but soulmates in every sense of the word. So, in my mind, based on all the evidence I've seen, one way or another, they will be together in the end. But like I said, that's in my mind. The final outcome for Caryl depends on Norman and Melissa's vision for the characters, which I understand may not align with mine, but I trust that no matter what they end up giving us, it's still gonna be a fantastic story ♡

~~~~

Thank you again for the really interesting question ♡♡♡ I hope my answer made sense and got my thoughts across properly.

I can't explain how excited I am about TBOC and seeing Carol and Daryl in the same frame again. ONLY 19 DAYS TO GO!! 🥰🎉

[sunkissedscribbles]

Prejudiced - Chapter Four

this is only a part of the series, the previous and next chapters can be found here

a/n: things are gonna get complicated soon haha

word count: 4676

tw: mention of sex, cursing i guess

summary: the events of the world cup haunt cass but it’s not easy for mattheo either.

<previous chapter next chapter>

dividers by @chachachannah

Like every summer, Ki's parents invited me to stay with them three in Italy for two weeks. And in return, as every year, we took Ki with us to Greece with mom in the following two weeks.

It was, as always, fascinating; being at the sea again, wearing the clothes from my summer wardrobe — my favourite thing on earth, — speaking Greek with the family, taking long hikes, and of course, enjoying the lively nightlife of first Rimini and then Skiathos.

The summers with Ki were always full of fun — and adventures. She seeks adventure more at parties while I'm more into being outside, doing whatever; hiking, swimming, running, collecting rocks and seashells. So, I'm the one navigating during the day and she's the one to do it at night. But one thing we can agree on is living life slowly on some days, going on picnics with the food I made while she was the entertainment (screaming Shout at the Devil from the top of her lungs), painting by the ocean or in the woods and reading in each other's company (not even the same books, but we always share the big events from them).

So, coming back to London was rather depressing: leaving the 30 degrees we got used to over the previous four weeks and having to get used to the maximum 24, again.

And, honestly, I wanted nothing more than to go back which I would've done on a broom even, even if Zeus and Poseidon both had decided to foil my plan of flying over the ocean back to the peaceful life I've been living in the past month.

I would've done it because August 18th, was a disaster.

I've never experienced such contrast before; one minute we are in our tent with Ki, cheering, in a chinwag about the World Cup, about which I had to explain most things during the match since Ki only came because of me, and now, I'm running frantically, shouting her name because I don't know where and when I've lost her. I only know that one second I was running, holding her hand, wand in my other hand, and now there's only my wand that I'm gripping.

The whole thing is a blur, a complete mess in my head as I'm trying to make sense out of everything. Seeing the crowd of those wizards, practically carrying a muggle family in the air overhead — not seeing any of the wizards' faces because they were wearing masks and hoods, just a minute ago has me worried. Where is she?

"Ki!" I shout, my throat already sore, my voice trembling. I don't get any response. "Kiara!" on the verge of crying, I don't even know what to do, in the fear of losing my best friend. In the fear of losing my sister.

I hold my wand out as I hear footsteps coming my way, ready to duel if needed.

"Draco?" I look at my cousin, completely gobsmacked and I lower my wand just a bit.

"Thought I'd see you with Potter," he retorts snarkily. He looks completely calm, not bothered by the situation and the chaos going around more than about me running around with Harry or not.

"Where are your parents?"

"None of your business," he barks back. I miss the times we were friends — when he was actually acting like we were family.

I get a flashback of the hooded and masked people marching through the campsite and I have a strong suspicion about where his parents — or at least his father — may be, getting the answer to my own question. "He's among them, isn't he? Lucius," I raise my wand back again, pointing at him.

"Regulus would be disappointed in you," he spits instead of answering, making my eyes widen in disbelief. That little prick.

"My father wasn't one of them!" I raise my voice. "He didn't torture people! He was nothing like our family and nothing like your father!"

Draco steps closer, talking in a way-too-calm voice, almost asking to be hexed.

"Then why did he die? He couldn't bear his duties, couldn't bear the trust he was given."

"You take that back! You take that back now," I raise my wand.

"Cass!" I hear Ki's voice from behind and she's only watching us for a moment as I'm waiting to get a reaction out of Draco. "Not again," she mutters under her breath before gripping my wrist and pulling me away from my cousin.

"Go on, run away like your cowardly dad!" He smugly spits after us and this is where I lose it; I free my wrist from Ki's grip and taking a step closer to Draco, not giving him any time to react more than making his self-satisfied smirk disappear from his lips, I punch him in the face, hearing the bone in his nose crack as his head tilts backward with a flash of his platinum-blonde hair.

"You filthy blood traitor!" He yells after me as Ki now pulls me away for real and Draco practically runs in the other direction.

"You are a mad woman, boyfriend material, almost," Ki says with a satisfied smirk and this is the point where relief washes over me as my mind gets clear just by hearing this very Kiara comment and I pull her closer, hugging her tightly.

"You are alright, are you? You got hurt?" I grip on her t-shirt as I hug her.

"I didn't," she reassures me, returning the gesture with just as much affection.

"MORSMORDRE!" I hear from the distance, pulling back from Ki, but not letting go of her hand.

We both turn in the direction of the voice, seeing a green flash of light in the sky light up the whole area of the camp, forming a skull with a serpent emerging from its mouth like a tongue.

"What... is that?" Ki's grip on my hand tightens and so does mine on hers.

"The Dark Mark," I reply with a shiver and a gulp. I've seen it countless times when reading about my family's past or the past of the Wizarding World in general.

In the remaining ten days of summer break, I'm absolutely knackered. I can barely sleep, thinking about Draco's words and what happened at the World Cup. And when I try to sleep, the events haunt me as nightmares, feeling as if I was near dementors all the time; siphoning and squeezing all the happiness and hope out of my body, the experience adding up to me thinking about where Sirius might be all summer long. Harry, my only source of information on the topic, hasn't told me anything in his letters; maybe he hasn't heard of him either. But still, why do I care about him when I've never even met him? And why do I care when he clearly has no intention of changing this, after what I made out of Harry's words last schoolyear.

About what happened on that ominous night in August; it blew up the whole Wizarding community, causing everyone to freak out currently. Ki and I have come to the conclusion that something is up and stinks like a whole load of dung bombs.

On the first of September, after saying goodbye to mum we get on the train, looking for our friends. We find Mattheo, sitting alone in a compartment, only Enzo's bag is there next to his on the overhead luggage rack, but the boy's nowhere to be seen.

He doesn't notice us until I kick his right foot gently, smiling down at him, "Hiya."

He smiles back, his gaze wandering for a moment on me. Somehow, his smile got... brighter? That's not the right word. But it somehow changed a little bit. He gets up to give me a short hug, which gives me just enough time to notice he indeed got taller and how nice he still smells, "You're... different," he states.

"I got taller," I grin.

He pulls back a little, looking at me as if he could just tell how many centimeters I am exactly and he says, laughing: "Bollocks, you did not."

"No, I didn't," I shrug with a smile, plopping down into the seat opposite his to let him greet Ki as well.

And while he does that, my gaze lingers on him for a moment, admiring his dark curls, long lashes, and outfit choice, the same short-sleeve over long-sleeve thing but it's something I do a lot too and I love. And it suits him. But something is different about him; maybe he looks a bit more mature — not too much, really just slightly. But he's clearly got taller too, I felt it when he hugged me. It was... different.

Mattheo and Ki both sit down and I can't help but feel caught as he looks at me. I look up at the luggage rack, eyes setting on Enzo's bag.

"Where's the bloke?" Ki asks as she looks at it as well.

"Shagging," Mattheo shrugs casually, making me frown.

"Enzo, shagging someone?"

"Yeah," he nods.

That's something new. He wasn't the type to just go about his day and seduce girls in this mean. Sure, he's always been a bit of a flirt, but never has he taken it this far, and it has never been serious, the flirting I mean; when he likes someone he usually just stares and smiles awkwardly when caught. And like, he's just turned fifteen. Exactly a month ago. This is new and for some reason, frustrating. Never would've thought he'd be the type to do this so easily and nonchalantly.

"Piss off, he isn't," Ki shakes her head, gobsmacked.

"He is!"

"No, he's not! Sweet baby Enzo doesn't even dare looking at girls he likes because he's afraid of talking to them, the coward prick," Ki refuses to believe and I can't help but chuckle at her statement.

Mattheo shrugs with a hint of mischievousness, "He's changed. And he doesn't even know the girl."

Now this really is something new. Never seen him like the kinda guy to just... get someone to hook up with, to be frank.

Ki and I share a look, my surprise reflecting on her face as well.

Right on time, Enzo steps into the compartment, adjusting his belt.

"You disgusting little prick, what have you done to Enzo," Ki starts, not even greeting him, no, jumping right in the middle of scolding him. Though she's only joking about the scolding part, we both still are astonished.

"Hi to you too," he turns to Ki with a roll of his eyes, slightly frowning before looking at me with a small smile, "You look-"

"Different, yes," Ki cuts him off. "And stop looking at her like a piece of meat. Keep your hands away from her."

"Okay, enough," the boy shakes his head, Matt hiding how much he enjoys the scene in the seat next to him. "What's got into you, Kiara?"

"Piss off, I know about your business and you're not shooting your shot with her," she grabs my arm. I swear she's like a brother who tries to keep everyone away from me even when it's not necessary sometimes.

"Business?" he frowns.

"Shagging, Enzo!" she retorts with a grunt.

"I was at the loo!" he says, offended, also blushing. I look at Mattheo, who can barely keep in his laughter.

"But with who, hm?" Ki squints her eyes and I kick Matt's foot again. He tries to regain his control over his about-to-burst laughter and I see through him almost immediately.

"Alone!" Enzo frowns, annoyed, gesturing with his hands.

Mattheo can't hold it anymore, snickering can be heard from his direction. Ki and Enzo both turn to him.

"You twat," Enzo counters with an annoyed look on his face. "Did you really tell them I was with a girl? Or a guy?" his eyes widen.

"Fuck, you're right, that would've been funnier," Matt flashes a smug grin, earning a middle finger from Enzo.

"Ki," I say calmly with a small hiding in the corners of my mouth, my eyes already wrinkling from the expression, "I'm not in need of an arm amputation at the moment," I refer to her still gripping my elbow.

"Right, sorry," she lets go of it while the door slides to the side, Theo stepping into the small room, immediately whistling.

"What a beautiful sight!" he grins at Ki and I before plopping down next to Enzo. "Alle ragazze sono cresciute le tette." (The girls grew boobs.)

I frown, not understanding a word, looking at Ki, who suggestively smirks at the boy.

"What did he say?" I ask but she just shakes her head.

Theo flashes Ki a grin, talking somewhat seductively — or it's only the Italian accent. "I miei pantaloni stanno diventando sempre più stretti. Puoi finalmente aiutare?" (My pants are getting tighter and tighter. Can you finally help?)

To that, Ki's face flushes red and Mattheo opposite me frowns with a disgusted expression. "Bloody hell man, I didn't need to know that!"

Ki finally speaks up, not even looking away from Theo, "Right here and now?"

I'm waiting for a kind of explanation, looking both at Theo, Ki, and Mattheo but when no one says anything, I shift my gaze at Enzo who shakes his head with the same look in his eyes as I have in mine; being left out, being the only two who don't understand anything.

Theo then turns to me and says with a small, genuine smile "Sei più bella che mai."

I have, again, no idea what that meant, but I assume it wasn't as... risky as what he's said to Ki. But it sounds beautiful, especially because Theo said this one so gently, even with that thick Italian accent of his. "Translation?" I say finally.

"You are more beautiful than ever," Mattheo says, locking his gaze with mine, answering when Theo and Ki have only opened their mouths, yet to do so, and Enzo turns to him with a facial expression I'd call slightly frustrated. I can't help but smile, biting my lip as I'm met with those shiny brown eyes. He says it as if these were his own words, but that I just shove to the side.

Then I turn to Theo as I shake myself out of my thoughts, still blushing lightly. "You can't complain either," to that, he grins at me, then speaks up, "So, how was summer y'all?"

"Horrible! This bitch kept me outside all summer! Plus you don't want to know what it's like to get woken up by such shit of her leaving for her run every day at five! Five! In the morning!" Ki starts before anyone else could.

"Says the one who actually glued me to my bed..." I retort, making the boys laugh.

We get to hear about Theo's summer in Italy and how he got a girl to blow him for concert tickets — reactions contain such controversial things as "Mate, that's not cool!" and "Fuck man, great deal!"

Matt doesn't say much, we only get a "nothing much happened" and "was with Theo."

As for Enzo, he talks about how he went to France with his father.

"Now about the World Cup," Enzo says quickly after he finishes his report about his summer, leaning a little bit forward and so do Theo and Mattheo as if we were about to let them know about some secrets.

"Which part?" I ask, trying to avoid the incidents with Draco. "Because I mean, that Wronski Feint was amazing and-"

"Not about that," Theo cuts me off but I can see a small smile hiding in the corners of Mattheo's lips as I mention the trick. "About what happened after the match."

We tell the boys what happened, from the start of the Death Eaters causing fire and such, through us losing each other in the crowd to the point where the Dark Mark appears in the sky.

"...and she punched Malfoy in the process," Ki states proudly, squeezing my shoulder, to which the boys' eyes widen.

"You should really consider switching houses," Theo smirks, suggestively wiggling his eyebrows.

"What did he do this time?" Mattheo asks and I'm about to tell him he was simply disrespectful toward half-bloods and muggleborns, which of course was not the exact reason for me to punch him, but the door of the compartment opens, sliding to the side once again by the Head Girl of the new school year.

"Ah, great, almost all of you are here," she starts, looking at Ki, Enzo and then me. "Come with me, we'll inform you about your duties as Prefects, now."

We both nod, getting our bags from the rack overhead and waving goodbye to Theo and Matt. I forgot about this part. I've been excited about this all summer — Ki wasn't because she hates kids but she still liked the idea to have an excuse to be out of bed after curfew — but now I just want to stay here.

As we leave the compartment, I'm following Beatrice close behind. "Who's the other from my house?"

"Cormac McLaggen," she answers with a sigh. I bet she knows him just as well as everyone else — the guy has a reputation for being a pompous prick.

I frown, wanting to just simply end my life here and now, and Ki's snickering can be heard from behind me.

"You're fucked, girl," she starts, an empathetic hand on my shoulder but she's grinning. "And if it's on him, you should take this literally."

Patrolling with Cormac McLaggen is what I'd call exhausting torture; listening to him talk all evening (after the feast, eating until I feel sick and tired of everything, and after the big news of the Triwizard Tournament) about how I should dedicate my first Hogsmeade Saturday to him and how gorgeous I've grown over the summer is tiring and extremely annoying and I swear it's a million times worse than having a Mandrake scream at you from up close.

Turning onto another corridor with Cormac's irritating non-stop chatter, I spot Mattheo — but so does Cormac, the twat. I mean, he's not a twat for noticing a guy clearly out of bed, away from the Dungeons where he should be in his dorm. He's just a twat in general.

"What are you doing here, Riddle?" McLaggen steps forward, blocking my way of walking and seeing Mattheo. He's going to the Astronomy Tower, of course.

"Sleepwalking," Mattheo states, annoyed, making me smile. I can tell just by his voice that he's rolling his eyes. Okay, let's forget about this. I sounded like a creep.

Cormac grabs my arm and starts pulling me back as if defending me, "Come on, Cassandra..."

"...Cassiopeia..." I hear Mattheo correcting him with a snicker, but Cormac clearly doesn't.

"...he's dangerous. I'll keep you safe," the bloke finishes and as he pulls me with greater force, I angrily grab my wand with my other hand, pointing at him from behind.

"Confundo," I call out, causing a pale pastel pink light to hit McLaggen and force him to let go of my arm. He starts to walk away, back to his dorm where I intended to send him.

I turn back, seeing Mattheo still standing there, watching with his big brown eyes sparkling at the little mischief.

"I befriended the devil," he grins at me as I move closer to him.

"Should've sent him to the Black Lake for a date with the Giant Squid," I mutter, taking Mattheo's hand as I start to walk toward the door to the Astronomy Tower. I unlock it and disappear behind it with the boy's warm hand still in mine before anyone can notice us.

"This boy will be the death of me, I swear. If I don't end his life first," I let out a deep sigh, leading Mattheo up the stairs.

"Shouldn't you send me to bed? Or deduct house points?" he tilts his head lightly and I turn my head to look back at him. "Or are you going to beg on your knees to be shagged?" he asks with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows and a grin. I smack his arm with an angelic smile in return.

I immediately let go of his hand as I get this is quite unnatural for him and me — this physical stuff.

"Why have a Prefect friend if not for sneaking you out of bed?" I smirk at him.

"Alright, fair," he laughs softly as we make our way up to the tower.

I stop suddenly — we both only come here when we need some time alone. And I planned to come here after patrolling, anyway.

"Why are you coming here?" I look up at him who's yet to notice I stopped a few steps prior.

"Why are you coming here?" he turns around, looking down at me.

"It's not an answer. And I asked first," I point out with a furrow of my brows.

"I'll tell you if you do too. And if you finally tell me why you broke Malfoy's nose," he stretches his arm out for me to take his hand as an offer, to go up with him and talk.

I look at his hand in front of me, hesitating. Not because I don't trust him and don't want to tell him — but because this physical touch thing is utterly new with him.

"The two things are actually related," I sigh, finally taking his hand. His face lights up slightly which makes me smile a little bit.

"You start, then," he smiles, leading me up to the top.

"The prick disrespected my dad," I tell him as soon as we sit down by the railing, letting our legs down under the metal by the edge of the tower. "See, he's always been a sensitive topic I guess... and Draco told me he would be disappointed..."

I take a moment before continuing, sighing. Godric, why is it so hard to talk about this?

He takes my hand again, squeezing it, to which I smile empathetically.

"...In me. He'd be disappointed if he saw I disrespect our family and such... not following their views. Not following the legacy. Then I hit him when he called dad cowardly."

The words are resonating in my ear. My own words, about how I hit someone. Hit. Someone. I. I hit someone. My actions are only now sinking in; two weeks after it happened.

"I would've done the same," Mattheo looks at me, searching my face, reassuringly rubbing my hand with his thumb, his touch creating a warm sensation on my skin. "I mean, not if he was disrespectful towards my... father, you know. If I were you, I mean. He deserved it."

"But you're a boy," I state.

"And he's your cousin. It's like a... brotherly fight, isn't it? And your family is problematic on it's own so it's not a surprise you can't keep your temper in check," he smirks. His words are true though and I can't deny it. But still, I hurt someone.

"So then, is this why you wanted to come here? Because you hit someone who deserved it?" he looks into my eyes and I shake my head.

"No... it's just... what I saw at the World Cup. That night," I look away for a moment, letting my guard down.

"The... mark?" he says the word with pure disgust, and with a sigh, I nod.

"And the people. They were... you know. His followers," I look back at him. "And I have this feeling that something is up... and I really hope I'm wrong for once. Because as much as a nerd I am, I've read some books and articles on the topic. And I'm just... afraid. Because after more than a decade, it's odd how they all show up all of a sudden."

"I have nightmares," Mattheo says suddenly when I stop talking. "I-I used to have them but I didn't have a single one in a really long time. And those I had before were different. But now... this summer, I had a lot. I was hoping they didn't mean anything and my gut feelings are usually wrong but... after what happened," his voice is a little shaky; I've never seen him this vulnerable and it makes me worry. "I can't be sure anymore."

He looks away, trying to hide his feelings by doing so. I squeeze his hand as his words sink in. He has nightmares, and Death Eaters were at the World Cup, causing chaos, and torturing muggles and muggleborns. Something stinks.

"I'm just kind of scared because... what if something bad happens?" he admits, to my genuine surprise.

"Yeah, mate, I don't have a good feeling about it either," I shake my head, intertwining our fingers for more comfort for the both of us. Strange, this newfound physical comfort with him. But it's definitely something I like and could bear more often.

"And like, the new Dark Arts teacher seems kinda dogdy. His eye scares the shit outta me," he smiles lightly as he looks up from our hands to meet my eyes, trying to enlighten the mood after letting the conversation sink in fully.

"He's the most famous Auror, actually," I laugh. I can't disagree with his reasoning about Moody's eye but I somehow find it fascinating. Strange, but fascinating. Rather grotesque. "I mean, it's kinda cool, he looks like someone who fought against werewolves and vampires and survived."

"But like, what if it has x-ray capability?" he chuckles, making me laugh.

"Then it's something McLaggen would really like to use," I shake my head with a laugh, looking back into his eyes.

"Theo as well," he points out, making me remember what he said on the train.

"Speaking of whom," I start. "What did he tell Ki?"

"My pants are getting tighter and tighter. Can you finally help?" he quotes Theo's exact words with a frown.

My eyes widen and my mouth hangs open. I mean, I get why it made Kiara blush.

"You'd like to hear that from someone too?" he grins, seeing my slight blush in the starlight. "From McLaggen maybe? Or shall I call him McCharming? McDreamy?"

I can't help but almost burst out laughing at his suggestions but he makes me blush embarrassedly at them, just with the whole conversation and where it went.

"McPrick would be perfect for him. Or McICan'tCountUpToTen," I suggest, making him laugh.

Once our laughter dies down, I move a little bit closer to him, leaning on his shoulder, thinking through this extremely long and exhausting day.

"Did Theo really make a move on Ki? Or was it just the causal banter?"

"Dunno. The bloke kinda has a thing for her," he would shrug if my head wasn't on his shoulder.

"Yeah, that one I could tell. How come you speak Italian though?" I point out.

"Theo's mum taught me."

One thing I might have not mentioned before is how after You-Know-Whose disappearance, the Notts took Mattheo in. I don't have many details because Theo doesn't really like to talk about his family, especially not his mum since she died when the boys were young, years before we started Hogwarts. Even the thought of losing mum is painful, of course I don't pressure them into talking about her.

I suddenly remember how he translated Theo's words to me on the train. When he said I was 'more beautiful as ever' and I feel this urge to ask if Theo's words are true. Not to fish for compliments — just to know if he agrees at least a little bit. If he thinks I'm beautiful. At least a little bit. It's strange and I don't know why I'm even thinking this.

He clears his throat after some time, "But if you tell the others about my nightmares I'll put a dung bomb into your bag."

I just smile lightly, nodding, my head still on his shoulder, "Noted."

i hope you enjoyed this one! next chapter next wednesday<3 comment to be on the tag list.

tag list: @reyys-letters @mqstermindswift @inksoakedparchment @sweetcolorfulies

[captain-mj]

What can I offer for another part of Small Switch? A feemor? My tibia? The skull of a questionable sourced Shaman?

Honestly, I loved that little fic! The subtle differences in the characters from their original selves, but they still kept the integrity of their characters! 10/10 fic!

~ Deuteronomy

Ngl I had massive brainworms from this and had to write a second part. Previous part here

After the little incident, Soap took a while to calm down. He hadn't necessarily been angry, even though no one believed me. He'd rather die than suffer through the humiliation of admitting Simon scared him.

Simon. Cute little guy who bleached his hair and didn't talk about himself much and apparently walked silently. Every time he made a sound was on purpose. For Soap he was now realizing. Probably other guys too, but around him specifically, he was always extra loud. Soap had considered it annoying. A sign that he was too comfortable around him. But now he realized it for his comfort.

It set him on edge. Ghost could sneak up on him any time. An unnerving presence that Soap just didn't pick up. How terrifying.

How... weirdly attractive.

All of these feelings made Simon's expression that much worse. The way he laid on the floor, blood smeared on the bottom half of his face, eyes wide and vacant. It bounced around his skull to remind him how awful he was. How much of a monster.

And the worst part?

Soap wanted to apologize.

To Ghost.

The FNG.

He always did when he forgot himself. Usually clearly forced. Apologies were said through gritted teeth full of something just to the left of hate and down from malice.

But he wanted to this time. Wanted to ask Simon to forgive him. As if that was possible.

Soap sat in Price's office, leg shaking. They weren't speaking. Didn't have to. Price could yell and scream all he wanted, but they both knew Soap couldn't change his fear response. That it was Ghost's fault for getting comfortable. For thinking sneaking up on him was okay.

Price would still make him apologize.

His phone buzzed and Price checked it, huffing like he saw something amusing. He flipped the screen around to show Soap Simon's bright and smiling face. His face had been cleaned and his lip clearly wasn't as bad as Soap originally thought. Simon also had his hand on shot, giving a thumbs up.

"Just a few bruises, he's fine. You can stop moping now, Soap."

Soap sighed. "I... didn't mean to. He just startled me." Johnny had turned around, ready to talk. To find something to fill the space between them. But there wasn't enough space between them. If Soap had leaned back, his head would've touched Simon's stomach.

Too close.

Far too close.

Simon's hair still felt so soft in his fingers.

Soap had taken his gloves off to feel the heat from his mug. Just one less layer between them.

"MacTavish." Price broke his thoughts gently. "What's going on between you two?"

"Nothing." Soap told the truth. "Unfortunately. You know why I can't Price."

"Rules."

"That too. I guess."

Price clearly was thinking something over and then he chose his words carefully. "If... something did happen... as long as I was sure it was... consensual, I'd look the other way."

Soap nodded. "I understand, sir. But it won't."

"And why not?" Price said it as a friend.

Soap sighed. "He's... too good. Too... soft and squishy."

"He's built like a brickhouse and benches more than anyone here."

"His insides I mean."

Price grimaced. "You know the drill, Soap. Go apologize for hurting him. Try to make it genuine."

Soap nodded and stalked off, sure to add angry flourish so the rookies would rush off.

Simon had already went to his room apparently. He was still a sergeant so he stayed with the rest of them. It bothered Soap a little. Made more sense for everyone in a taskforce to be together.

Funnily enough, this never bothered him when it was just Gaz. But now they were split in half and it was just messy.

Simon was chatting with someone. They looked friendly.

"Sergeant Riley." Soap spoke coldly, watching the other person jump. Both of them fell into formation. Like Soap might scold them otherwise. "Take a walk with me."

Simon nodded and grabbed his gloves, slipping them on as they walked. Skeleton print.

"Don't suppose that's because you're a fan of me?"

"My brother got them for me." Simon smiled at him. Like nothing had happened.

Soap tried to piece together a decent apology. Just saying I'm sorry did not seem like enough.

"I'm sorry for scaring you. I will admit, I lied in there. I was hoping to impress you. I know better. Used to scare everyone on my last base like that. I never... wanted to scare you." Simon looked down at him. His eyes were so big and brown. So soft.

Soap shook his head. "it's fine. It wasn't an excuse for me to hurt you. I actually came here to apologize."

The space between them was back. There were no words to fill it.

"You have any more jokes?" Soap asked him.

Ghost hummed. "What kind of car does a sheep like to drive?"

"What kind?"

"A lamborghini."

Soap made sure his smile could reach his eyes. Simon smiled back.

Too much space.

He wanted to feel his hair between his fingers.

Where Soap was being extremely dramatic, Simon was calm. It was his fault. But he hadn't really been scared of Soap. Soap just... reminded him of someone else when it happened.

Simon held up his hand, making sure Soap could see it, before he put it on his shoulder and squeezed.

"I love working with you, sir." Simon smiled, acting like he didn't just sink his claws into Soap and fill him with warmth.

He stepped away like he had done nothing.

Left Soap with a cold feeling where his hand should be.

-

"You cannot be serious, Soap." Gaz asked, grimacing. "Why can't you handle this by yourself? Or take Price?"

Soap noticed Gaz did not volunteer himself for torture duty. While yes, Soap could do this himself, standard protocol was two people. Price trusted his judgement on this since this was his area of expertise. Gaz was efficient. Soap knew his test scores blew everyone's out of the water. But Simon had never been part of this type of interrogation if his records were accurate. Soap wanted to see what he was working with.

Plus, if it scared Simon away from him for a bit, win win. Simon had gotten comfortable again. Now that he knew Johnny would let him, he touched him casually all the time. It drove him crazy and people noticed. A rookie had joked that Simon touching people was almost as rare as Soap getting touched and now the thought that he was somehow special kept echoing in his head.

"It's okay, Gaz. I went through the same training. I promise to follow everything as I'm ordered to." Simon smiled. He had fucking dimples. The bastard. He looked cute while offering to torture someone with Soap. Treated it with the same respect as if they were going grocery shopping.

Soap tried to convince himself he hoped this would knock him down a peg.

"Start by getting him scared. Rough him up a bit. I'll be right out of his sight." It was a scare tactic. People recognized Soap's mask, so when they dealt with whatever and then saw him, they folded. Usually.

Simon nodded. "So I just... hurt him, right?"

"Yep. If you cut him," Soap really doubted it, "Make sure he doesn't bleed out. Erases the point. I'll stop you if I think you're going to go too far. As long as you slap him around, we'll be fine."

Ghost stepped in the room. His posture straightened and it was clear he was trying to look intimidating.

Soap stood where the guy couldn't see him. He watched him with interest as Simon circled the table of things before settling on a knife. He did a fancy little trick with it before he turned to the man and rolled up the guy's sleeves. Simon pulled a chair and sat down like he was going to give the man a tattoo.

Soap watched, in both growing horror and growing attraction, as Simon slowly and painstakingly made cuts into his skin. None of them bled much as Simon avoided the bloodier parts of the meat.

"Where did you learn that?"

"From 14 to 18, I worked as a butcher. Got real knowledge about knives and meat. That's all we are. Go past the skin and we're not too different from cows."

Simon lifted his head to look at the man who recoiled from his face.

Soap's felt the air rush out of his lungs.

His eyes were lidded, something heady in his eyes. There was a nothingness to his features that made the stern expression from early look nice.

The man's breath sped up and he cringed back even further.

Soap stepped in and got the man to confess. Didn't take much more than pressing the already precision made cuts but he kept glancing at Ghost across the room. He stared like the man was a devil.

Seeing him in this lighting casting dark shadows down his face and the loose empty expression, he looked the part.

Soap gave a standard mission report, leaving out that Simon did almost everything.

Funnily enough, so did Simon's. He described it as informative.

Soap felt like he was being fucked with. He missed something. Clearly Simon was hiding something.

-

One night, after the 141 had went drinking, Soap took Ghost back to his room. The poor Brit was stumbling and holding on to Soap to keep standing.

"Didn't expect you to be such a lightweight."

"Had drank in a few years. I lose the ability to say no." Ghost smiled.

Soap understood the joke. Ghost was flirty. Or maybe horny was a better word. But something about it didn't land right. Made him feel weird.

Ghost tried to open his door and found it locked. He checked for his key and came up empty.

"Fuck. I must've dropped it." Simon looked at him. "What should I do?"

Soap pulled a lockpick he kept on himself out and got to work.

"Why do you carry that?"

"In case I get captured."

Simon did not press. He just nodded and smiled liked Soap had done something funny. Drunkenly, he watched Soap unlock his door and pull him inside.

"There. Now, sleep this off. You still need to be up bright and early."

"Gonna miss me if I'm not?" Simon asked, looking at him a little too seriously. He slipped off his gloves. Soap was very aware of the fact the door was open.

"I'm going to ignore your insubordination this once, Riley. Go to bed."

Simon groaned softly and his head fell back. "Don't be like that. I know we're friends." He slipped his jacket off his shoulders. It revealed his arms and Soap felt like Victorian woman seeing those shoulders get unraveled. Simon rolled his shoulders.

"Don't do friends."

Simon glared at him. That heady, dark look came back. "Right. Lone wolf." He dropped his jacket.

Soap looked at his arms again. He had tattoos on both his forearm. One of them was a patchwork tattoo, full of dozens of little "hardcore" tattoos. The other was flowers. Dozens of different kinds. They started at a place along his inner wrist where the veins were and trailed off to his fingers or up his arm.

"Do you like them? Every time I'm home, I get another tattoo."

"They're nice. Clearly well taken care of."

Simon smiled at him and sat down on his bed. "Yeah." He pulled off his shirt. More tattoos. The flowers wrapped around one of his collar bones. The patchwork tattoos flowed down his chest. Some of the ones further up were from bands or things that Soap recognized as from missions. Like the bomb they had to defuse, a safehouse, a few dates even. Soap wasn't sure if he should recognize them or not.

Soap blushed but his mask covered it up. "Can I get a closer look?"

Simon nodded. "Know you're an artist. Saw you drawing."

"Don't do that anymore."

"Liar. Your notes from meetings are covered in doodles." Simon moved so his arms were out. Soap looked along the delicate linework. The ink swirled in some places, making gorgeous designs.

"What's wrong? You're making a face." Simon mumbled, tilting his head to look at him better.

Soap brushed his thumb over the scars under his skin They were peppered over his skin. Cuts like he had been in a knife fight, burns and what he could only assume were bites from wild animal. "What's this from?"

"I was a dumb teen." Simon fell back into the bed, looking up at him. Soft underbelly on display. He had a few scars there too. Mostly cuts but also more burns and scratches.

Soap swallowed. "Go to sleep."

"Yes, sir."

He stood up slowly and turned around.

Simon's key flashed on the floor.

Soap stared at it. The way it was on the floor, it looked like it had been shoved through the door and then when Soap picked the lock, the door shoved it.

Their doors were set up so they could only be locked and unlocked with their main key and the master key. So if Simon shoved his key under his door, he would have to wait until the office opened up in the morning to get in his room.

Or.

Soap would let him.

He tried to brush it off as Simon planning on not going to his own room that night, a little overconfident in his ability to flirt.

But he hadn't wandered away from them all night.

Hadn't wandered away from Soap that night.

Soap flushed down to his toes and fled.

It was starting to occur to him that as little as everyone here knew Soap. They may know even less about a certain Simon Riley.

Why would he have so many scars? He had mostly been a sniper. This was his big break to be closer to the fight.

And some of them looked old. He was only 24.

Why the hell would a 16 year old get in a knife fight?

Who the hell was Simon Riley?

[umbrellasareforever]

Empire of Death

Alright I'm so fresh off watching it and normally I want to give myself time to think before I say anything but also to think I need to get it out somehow so ya'll are getting my thoughts as I process them and then maybe I'll make a more intelligent post later.

Let's start with things I enjoyed!

Mel was fantastic, as always. Bonnie Langford is a treat and honestly, watching her this episode made me almost wish she could be the series companion again.

The Memory TARDIS! A genuinely unexpected surprise and while it made not have made 100% sense, it was a fun reference and a unique way to get around the fact that the TARDIS wasn't available to them.

I enjoyed the scene with the Doctor and the woman in that ramshackle hut. It was a sweet, somewhat slow moment that let you feel the universe a bit. Honestly, I wish the episode had started with that, it would've been a great hook.

As much as I adore my Paradox Baby™️ theory, I do think that having Ruby discover that her mother is, in fact, just a person was quite sweet. It was nice to see a RTD companion actually have a happy ending for once (although we know she's coming back, but hey, it's still a sweet moment).

Okay uhhhhh let's get into my problems...

If Ruby's mother was really just a person why the hell did it snow every time her mom was mentioned? I get the whole "the more significance you give something, the more important it becomes", and I know that the universe is now more supernatural than it was before, but was that the supernatural bleeding in? And while we're on Ruby's mother, why did she point so dramatically to the sign? No one was looking, no one would've known that's what she named her daughter. Is it just a total coincidence that she ended up with that name? Am I crazy?

The moment Rose died so unceremoniously I knew that it was going to end up being one of those "no consequences" episodes and I felt incredibly deflated. I get that Russell needs to make the stakes feel high but I really don't think this is the way. You can't have every season end with a universe shattering event and then just as quickly put everything back to the way it was and expect me to still feel like there's a threat.

Piggybacking off that, whyyyyyyyyyyy the HELL did Mrs. Flood have to say the whole "end in abject terror" thing? I'm so sick of it. I'm so sick of every season ending with or being advertised with "OHHHHHH this next one is gonna be the biggest threat the Doctor has ever faced! Nothing will ever be the same!!" STOP!!! STOP IT!!!!!! YOU ARE KILLING ME JUST STOP IT ALREADY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Speaking of Mrs. Flood, as curious as I am about her and whatever the hell she is (Iris, Romana, Susan, the Trickster, something else entirely), I also think that the lack of any answers about her and the constant cutting back to her really pulled me away from the story as a whole. Whether it was because I'm more interested in her or because seeing her so much made me think her story was going to be more important in the episode, it just took away from the already limited time we had.

Which kind of brings me to my biggest problem; time. All season every episode has felt like we were rushing through, as if we didn't have nearly enough time to actually tell a story, and it sucks. It leaves stories feeling like first drafts and unsatisfying and meh. I know pacing is hard, but there's gotta be a way to make this stuff work.

On another note, the whistle was... uh... yeah. I'll accept the Doctor having Intelligent Gloves™️ and Intelligent Rope™️ and Psychic Earrings™️, but when a whistle falls out of a cupboard and he puts it on with 0 explanation and then uses what we can only assume is a normal whistle to control the TARDIS to *checks notes* shoot a cannon out of the console and fly it over to him and Ruby... Yeah I just... that's a bit much for me.

Also Sutekh's been on the TARDIS for how long??? Since Pyramids of Mars??? What happened to him in Flatline? What happened to him when the Master turned it into a Paradox Machine? Or when it was blowing up constantly in Series 5? Or when House took it over in The Doctor's Wife? He was just straight chilling?? Honestly this is less of a genuine complaint and more of a "Wow, Doctor Who is wild!"

Now this is VERY much a nitpick and I need to get over it, I know, but God I need 15 to wear more Doctor-esque clothes. Seeing him walk around this whole time in blue jeans and a t-shirt or combat cargo pants and a t-shirt just felt so off. Seriously, when he had that leather trench coat outfit back on at the very end I felt a moment of relief.

And while I'm nitpicking, I know they didn't even really play a part in the episode but I want to, once again, voice my frustration with how much UNIT is a part of RTD2 so far and how it feels like there's not even a hint of military critique about it.

Yeah okay, those are my thoughts for now. If you really read all this, I appreciate and applaud you, and I very much hope you enjoyed the episode. I wish I did.

Here's to the Christmas special, I suppose!

[zerobaselove]

feelings on paper | kim taerae

pairing: taerae x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 857

warnings: none! lowercase intended, not proofread.

prompt: 23. "why are you looking at me like that?"

notes: i am trying so hard not to lose the taerae war but everything i write for him pushes me a little bit closer i can't even lie <3 just cute lovely taerae who else cheered.

it wasn't abnormal for you and taerae to spend most of your time together; you had been friends for so long that being in each other's presence just felt like home, he was your home. and that's how you ended up here, you were writing a paper for your mythology class while taerae sat at the edge of your bed, humming a song you presumed was stuck in his head as he scribbled out lyrics for one of his music classes.

this had been going on for about an hour now and you had decided you needed to take a break, shutting your laptop slightly, opting to pay attention to something that, in your opinion, was way more worthy of your time; taerae.

he somehow managed to sound pretty as ever even when he was just frantically erasing and rewriting words in his notebook; every once in a while he would sing over the lyrics he had written down, testing to see how the syllables fit into the melody. you couldn't help but swoon a little bit, against your own will.

you had thought you were being subtle with your glances at the boy, but it seems he could sense your gaze after a bit as he turned to look at you, realizing you had long forgotten your essay.

"why are you looking at me like that?" he smiled at the sight of you paying such close attention to him, but he couldn't help but wonder why you were looking at him like he was the stars in the night sky.

you were a little startled, you meant to look away but it was like your eyes were glued to him, and there was no way to come back from that. "i just think you sound pretty," you voiced, looking down and fiddling with the string in the rips of your jeans, not wanting to face the boy now that you'd been caught ogling at him.

"oh really?" a blush found it's way to his cheeks, and for a moment he was thankful you had your eyes trained on your pants so you couldn't see his slightly embarrassing reaction to your simple compliment. "well thank you." you finally gained the courage to look up at him, being met with his wide smile; that's it, you were going to die like this.

you took that as your sign to get back to work, or at least attempt to. but after 15 minutes of staring at the document on your computer with your thoughts being fully committed the boy in front of you, you decided you had had enough. "taerae," you breathed out, hoping your voice wouldn't fail you now as he turned to you with his loving smile on his face, humming in acknowledgement. "i can't take it." you sighed, your head falling forward into your hands.

honestly you were just being dramatic, but taerae was genuinely worried by your actions, quickly throwing his pencil and notebook to the side to come sit next to you. with his hands on your knees, rubbing small circles with his thumb, he spoke up. "what's wrong? you can talk to me, you know that."

little did he know, that only made it that much worse. you had no idea what to do with all of these feelings bubbling up, until they spilled. "i like you." your words were more abrupt than you wanted, but there was no going back, "more than a friend should." the weight off of your chest didn't feel nearly as relieving as you would've hoped, the new feeling of waiting for a response weighing down on your being like never before.

"you have no idea how long i've been waiting to hear that." he breathed a sigh of relief, moving to grab one of your hands and giving it a light squeeze, the other still soothing you with light circles on your skin.

"what?" you managed to get out, your words feeling caught in your throat more than ever before. he's been waiting for you to say that? you weren't sure what to make of that; luckily he didn't keep you guessing too long.

it was now that you noticed the faint pink hue dusting his cheeks, and it made your brain run laps at the implication that was soon to be confirmed by the boy in front of you. "i like you too y/n," he turned away momentarily, grabbing his notebook that he'd been scribbling in for longer than you can remember, frantically flipping back a few pages. "these are about you." he handed you the notebook, gesturing you to flip through it.

pages and pages were filled with heartwarming, lovestruck, and quite frankly, endearing lyrics. and the thought of them coming from him while he had you on the mind made your heart beat out of your chest.

"taerae, god, you are so lovely." the words fell from your lips without second thought, finally able to voice how he made you feel. the boy smiled back at you, glancing between the notebook in your lap and the smile on your face. "only for you."

[importantchaosgiver]

The Mystery Is Solved

Summary: It all clicks for (Y/N). Why the animatronics moved the way they did, why no one could find bodies. But she had yet to confront the real man behind the slaughter. She was not anticipating that the answers she wanted for so long were right in front of her...

Warnings: Mentions of spring lock scene, blood, fighting, spoilers, weapons

******

No one's POV

(Y/N) had hit so many dead ends in this investigation, it was abnormal. Most of her colleagues would've given up, especially with a case as long as this one. But not her. (Y/N) could feel the answers. She was almost there. It was at the tip of her tongue! But she was missing something. Something vital. Just beyond her reach. It annoyed her. She was so close to it!

She sat at her desk, her face in her hands, rubbing her tired eyes. It had just reached 10:30pm and she had already spent the majority of the day in her office, trying to figure out what she was missing. But she had gotten nowhere. As she stood up to gather her things and go home. She paused. On her desk laid out the pictures of the children. These pictures were taken with a person dressed up in a Spring-Bonnie suit. Brand new. They all smiled, but the pictures were taken individually. (Y/N) picked one up. The child was a young red haired boy called Fritz. Her eyes scanned the picture and spotted her was holding a hook....... like a pirate. Like....... Foxy!

(Y/N)'s eyes widened. It was even in the same place! Now she saw that, she looked at the others. Susie, Jeremy and Gabriel all had characteristics that matched Chica, Bonnie and Gabriel. As for Cassidy, (Y/N) was stumped, but this couldn't be a coincidence. She saw the man wearing the Spring-Bonnie suit in all these pictures. This had to be the link! She then thought back to the scene back in the 80's. She looked throughout the entire building. Nothing was found. Not even the air vents showed any signs. But there was one place they never checked. One place no one bothered to, because why would they mess around with robotics? It all made sense! She knew where the children were........ and she was too late. She had to tell Mike. (Y/N) grabbed her coat and ran out of the deserted station, most officers having already gone home. She had to get to the pizzeria!

She got into her car, speeding to the pizzeria, skidding to a halt outside. She discarded her coat, making sure her gun was loaded before slipping inside. Upon arrival, she saw a more battered version of the Spring-Bonnie suit. But the way it moved proved someone was inside there. Mike was on the floor, unconscious, Abby beside him, crying for him to wake up. The other animatronics making their way forward.

"Stop!" she shouted, making everyone pause. (Y/N) raised her gun, pointing it at Spring-Bonnie. He laughed, the mask making his voice distorted and robotic. "So, you finally figured it out. Took you long enough," he cackled. She didn't look impressed. "You covered your tracks well, I'll admit. But surely you didn't think you could get away with it forever," she spat, her hand steady whilst aiming. "You're smarter than the other cops. I remember seeing you for the first time back all those years ago. Maybe you're not just a pretty face after all," he sneered. (Y/N)'s gaze hardened. "Not a man enough to show your face...... Steve? Or whatever your real name is?" she asked. The man took off his mask, smiling smugly as he tossed it onto the floor. It was Steve. No..... William Afton.

"Do you honestly think you can stop me?" he chuckled darkly. The animatronics all looked at her. They were following his orders. "What you did to them was horrific. What you are still doing is even more barbaric. I won't let you take another life," she swore, cocking her gun. He raised his knife. "One cop against four animatronics and me. The odds aren't in your favour, (L/N)," he said, holding out his arms. Her eyes flickered over to where Mike had finally woke up. His eyes locked with (Y/N); a plan burning in his eyes.

"So be it," she said, taking a shot. But it didn't cause bad damage. William stumbled back due to recoil, but the exoskeleton and fiberglass shell protected his body. He scowled at her, going forward, his knife ready, batting the gun from her hand. (Y/N) moved back, grabbing his wrist, stopping him. She then shoved him back. Not hard enough for him to fall over, but enough to make him stumble. Abby then stood up, holding a drawing in her hand. William saw, going to stop her, but (Y/N) grabbed his wrist again. "I won't let you hurt her," she seethed. William glared at her, moving forward and stabbing her in her thigh, making her cry out in pain, falling down. The knife was buried deep in the thigh, cutting through a lot of muscle and tissue. The pain overwhelmed her senses, making her hearing and sight dull down. She faintly heard shouting, pained grunts and whimpers. (Y/N) felt someone grabbing her, putting an arm over their shoulders and hoisting her to her feet, half dragging her away as crashes and sparks flew. Her vision blacked out when she felt fresh air hit her face....

Some days later...

The first thing (Y/N) experienced when she came to was the feeling of someone holding her hand and a slight tingle and numbness in her right thigh. She groaned, slowly opening her eyes, letting them adjust to the lights of a hospital room. Once she got her bearings, she turned to look to the side. Mike was sat there, holding her hand, Abby beside him. "Hey, you're finally awake," he said gently. "You were asleep for ages," Abby butted in. "How long for?" (Y/N) asked, her voice slightly croaky.

"Two days," Mike said, handing over a plastic cup filled with water. She drank it gratefully. "What happened? Where's Afton?" she asked. Abby left to get something to eat. "He was spring locked inside his suit. He'll be dead," Mike said gently. It was silent for a minute. "(Y/N) there's something you should know. When Afton stabbed you...... your condition was bad," Mike explained. She raised an eyebrow. What exactly did he mean?

"The doctors stopped the bleeding, but you developed septicemia. They...... they had to amputate the leg," Mike said gently. (Y/N) froze, lifting up the blankets to show her right leg was missing. Nothing more the bandaged stump. "Oh my god," she whispered, looking at it. "The doctors said you were lucky to pull through," Mike stated. (Y/N) put the covers down, still a little shook. "What can I say?" she muttered, looking at him. "No one can get rid of me that easily.....

I always come back..."

*****

Two parts in one day. Hope you're liking this. I'm going to do a bit of (Y/N)'s backstory next time. I know this may seem like the end. But more is coming. If you got any theories or any suggestions about what might go on, feel free to comment. I hope you enjoy.

[deathbxnny]

Ever since the first time I saw Welt in Star Rail this is stuck in my head. Since Welt ended in the star rail universe other people could’ve done the same. Imagine someone from the PE (and can percieve the Honkai energy like the Valks ) who ended up the same way a March 7th (trapped in weird ice) and when they wake up and see Welt they don’t know that Herrschers can be human friendly, since Welt can still use his materialisation powers I assume he’s still got residual Honkai energy and when they feel it they’re like "DIE HERRSCHER !!" Or something like that

Take this however you want, as a request (if you have inspiration) or as a ramble.

-----♡

A/N: First of all, I absolutely love the way your brain thinks! This is honestly hilarious to think about and so I decided to make a little something with it. I hope you don't mind me making it kinda into a Welt x reader thing!

Content: Enemies to lovers, fluff ending, angst(?)

Featured characters: Welt and some of the other Astral Express members)

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not fully proofread, so I'm sorry for any mistakes!))

-----♡

☆《From beyond this world. (Welt x PE!Reader)》☆

-----♡

You groaned, when bright light hit your eyes, blinding you for a moment. Your head spun, so many thoughts swirling through your head and yet non made sense. What happened? You dared open your eyes once more, the buzzing of many voices finally reaching your ears.

"-Hey, can you hear us?" A voice rang out, yet you couldn't respond just yet and instead just weakly hummed. When your vision finally cleared, you stared up at what seemed to be a wooden ceiling. Where were you...?

"Oh, good, they are awake! Phew, I thought they wouldn't ever wake up!" A pink haired girl next to you sighed, offering you a smile, when you looked at her with furrowed confused eyes. "Where..." You started, yet your voice broke, as though it wasn't used in so long.

This confused you, since the last thing you remember was talking to some colleagues... something exploded... and then... what happened then?

"You're currently the Astral Express. We found you floating through space in a giant block of ice and rescued you. Do you have any injuries or pain?" A red haired woman asked you, yet all you could do was stare. Your brain couldn't process that information at the moment, as it just made no sense to you.

You tried pushing yourself up to sit, the carpeted floor you laid on proving to be quite uncomfortable as time went on. The girl helped you in doing so, a friendly smile always on her face. "There you go... my name is March 7th by the way! And this is Himeko!" She said, quickly showing you how naturally energetic she is. It would've been comforting, if you didn't feel dread course through your veins all of a sudden.

Himeko gave you a small smile and asked you something, but you couldn't hear her over the ringing in your ears. Your eyes were suddenly focused on a man standing behind her, your breathing picking up fast. That man... he had some honkai energy surrounding him. No, not only that... you could feel it clearly all of a sudden... he was a Herrscher.

You panicked, your body moving faster than your rapidly spiralling mind, as you attempted to attack him. You grabbed a blade out of your pocket, practically violently throwing yourself at him. All exhaustion and dizziness left you in that moment, your only thought being the elimination of what you considered a pest.

"DIE HERRSCHER!" You screamed, before you were roughly restrained by the others in confusion and panic. A young man you hadn't seen before was struggling to keep you back with March 7th, as you were surprisingly strong. The Herrscher on the otherhand just stared at you in near surprise for a moment, before a flicker of recognition glinted in his eyes.

Sudden exhaustion hit you again pretty fast, your body not used to moving so much anymore, your head lulling forward as you panted weakly. "H-Hey! What are you doing? Calm down!" March yelled in panic, yet stopped, when the man raised his hand to silence her for a moment.

He approached you, leaning down a little to be at eye level with you. You glared into his eyes, fear and anger coursing through you. You couldn't understand any of this. Why were these people defending a vile creature like him? He suddenly raised his cane and gently tapped your forehead, his warm eyes being the last thing you saw, before you eventually passed out.

---

It had been a month since then. Turns out, that you were in a completely different timeline and galaxy now, far away from any actual Honkai threats. And the Herrscher's name was Welt Yang, a surprising calm and kind man, who was nowhere near the threat you at first perceived him to be.

Luckily, no one questioned your words regarding Welt, mainly because they thought you were just losing it, after being trapped for so long. And so, when everyone was too far away to listen in on you two, Welt told you about everything you didn't know regarding him and Herrschers.

It took you a while to even process the idea of "friendly Herrschers" and you admittedly still didn't trust the man for a couple days at first. But he was surprisingly very understanding and patient, which made you feel nearly guilty for attacking him in the first place.

After spending two weeks on the Astral Express and spending time mostly with him, albeit against your will at first, you actually became closer... nearly friends somehow. It seemed like you had alot more in common than you had initially thought and whilst him having some honkai energy in him did still worry you... you began looking past that quite fast.

How could you not, when he was so nice and gentle with you, quelling your fears and worries, telling you that you had nothing to worry about anymore here. It felt eventually comforting to be close to him. He was technically the only one left from your old world, old life in a way. And you began appreciating him after a month.

Soon enough, you also became apart of the Astral Express and usually kept to Welt's side as somewhat of an assistant, which only drove you two closer.

---

"How do you like the tea?" Welt hummed, watching you sip on your cup with intent interest. You hummed in satisfaction, a small, content smile on your lips. "I like it, the flavour is new, but good." You said, earning a nod from the man.

You both sat in the comfortable silence in what was Welt's room, your eyes glued to the large windows and the galaxies that passed you by through them. It was relaxing and so comforting to you. So much so, that you didn't notice the fleeting glances the man gave you.

"... I'm sorry for attacking you." You hummed, closing your eyes at the relaxing bliss you felt. Welt chuckled, his eyes never leaving your face. "It's alright, I understand. Hopefully I made a good enough impression for you not to do it again?" He joked lightly, earning an amused chuckled from you now.

"Yeah... you have. I actually love you now-" You stopped yourself, your eyes snapping open in surprise at your own words. Who would've thought, that you'd ever say such words to a Herrscher? You glanced at Welt, who only gave you a soft smile in return, the dim light of his room hiding the faint redness on his cheeks and the tips of his ears, which you still noticed.

He chuckled, his eyes glinting in amusement. "Well, I feel the same about you. I'm glad, that we have so much in common." He said, making you smile and relax. Humming, you raised the cup back to your lips, your eyes glancing back at him teasingly.

"I'm glad too."

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A/N: Thank you again Anon for your beautiful thoughts! I hope, I did your idea justice!<33

♡Requests are always appreciated!♡