#if I missed any warnings/triggers pls let me know!

[garlic-the-gnome]

Dr Ian Malcolm blinkie

[buckymorelikefuckme]

and baby makes three

(the reboot)

bucky barnes x fem reader

words: 11.3k

warnings: **18+ ONLY** friends to lovers, pining, smut, oral (f receiving), breeding kink, pregnancy kink, cockwarming (kind of??), trigger warning for having troubles with getting pregnant. it's still super fuckin soft despite all of that though, i swear.

a/n: okay so it's currently 6am as i'm typing this and i haven't been to sleep yet bc i decided to just heavily edit this instead of rewrite it bc i'm lazy i guess idk. this was posted originally back in 2021 i believe and it's still on ao3 it's just orphaned rip. i promise i'll be writing and posting new stuff soon ok pls have faith in me and cheer me on bc it's hard and scary and i don't wanna disappoint anybody :( ANYWAY, as usual, any and all mistakes are my own. if i've missed anything important pls let me know so i can correct it. feedback is encouraged (pls) and appreciated (i am begging...)

The idea of you having a child one day always seemed foreign and very unlikely. Sure, you liked kids well enough, but having one of your own…

It’s a thought that’s sat in a corner deep in your mind, buried beneath a million other impossible concepts; a thought that you’ve only ever glanced over and never gave your full attention, having ruled it out ages ago as something you just couldn’t—or wouldn’t—do.

And then, on a day like any other, it pushes its way to the forefront of your mind, making itself known and unwilling to leave.

You’re going into the clothing store to find a new cardigan after your most favorite one got eaten by the dryer. Usually you’re a single-minded shopper, walking into a store with tunnel vision and on a mission to get what you need and that’s it.

Today, however, you make the mistake of letting your eyes wander on your way to the sweater section. Your gaze just so happens to land on the baby clothes… and your steps falter. It’s there that you see it, a tiny, pink onesie with a sleeping teddy bear printed on the front, displayed on an even tinier hanger. There’s matching pants with teddy bears all over them and ruffles on the butt and all your brain can muster up is cutecutecutecutecute.

Your feet carry you closer and before you realize what you’re doing you pick up the outfit, letting out a coo when you realize the teddy bear is fuzzy, softly rubbing your thumb across it. Somehow, you walk out of the store, not with a new cardigan, but with the cute baby outfit and a bow you thought looked adorable with it.

It’s not until you get home that it hits you, that you bought baby clothes for a baby you don’t even have.

The feeling that rushes through you is hard to describe. Shame? Embarrassment?

...Yearning?

No. Definitely not. Nope.

There’s absolutely no yearning going on here, not for a baby. You’ve never even had that desire before and you certainly don’t see yourself having it now. You shake your head to clear it, telling yourself you’ll take it back tomorrow.

Except you don’t take it back. You conveniently “forget” and it stays shoved on the top shelf in your hall closet. You pretend you don’t pause in front of said closet throughout the following days—weeks—chewing on the inside of your cheek and staring at the door like you can see through the wood at the evidence of your impulsive purchase.

It gets harder to ignore, though, when you start getting ads for baby clothing brands. And baby toys, bottles, handy little gadgets for new parents, nursery decor… It’s endless.

Then, as if it wasn’t already bad enough, all of your childhood friends start popping out babies like it’s a brand new trend. You don't think you've seen your social media this flooded with pregnancy announcements and baby arrivals, ever. Your emotions are mixed; happy for them, and for their excitement, but there’s also a weird discomfort settled in your stomach.

You hesitate to be that person who thinks the universe is trying to tell you something, but you do wonder. Why else would you suddenly have these feelings? Why else would there be baby stuff everywhere you look now?

It brings on other thoughts, as well. In this day and age, it’s not too unusual for women to have babies without being married, or without a significant other at all. There is the pressure, still, to at least be in a relationship, but considering you’ve been practically in love with one of your closest friends for the last two years, it’s safe to say that you’re tragically single, so having a baby with someone is out of the question.

And god, do you even want a baby?

As soon as the thought crosses your mind, with a sudden clarity that hits you like a ton of bricks, you realize you do. It feels like a freight train has slammed into you. Your mind’s eye supplies you with images of a swollen belly and wide smile, a precious baby wrapped in a soft blanket, cradled in your arms, a gummy grin and happy giggle.

Emotion consumes you then, longing like you’ve never felt in your life, chest aching with how badly you want that.

It’s not as if you’re too young. You’re plenty old enough and you’ve got a secure job. You don’t subscribe to that whole biological clock nonsense, but you do feel that if you are going to potentially have a baby, it might be better to do it now while you’re still in relatively good health.

You groan, dropping your face into your open palms, the movie you'd been watching to try and distract yourself long forgotten as it continues to play on the television.

This is a lot to think about, you ponder to yourself. Taking a deep breath in and releasing it slowly, you decide the mature thing to do is give yourself more time to ruminate on it. Having a baby is no small decision. You need to be absolutely certain it’s what you want. It’s going to change your entire life, everything, and you’d be responsible for a new life. So, you’ll have to give yourself a few months to decide and then you can go from there.

***

You’re scrolling through yet another article on your laptop, engrossed in every detail of the process of artificial insemination and the symptoms and side effects that come with it. So engrossed, in fact, that you don’t hear the key turning in the lock, the door opening and closing, and the heavy footfalls that follow.

It’s only when Bucky asks, “Whatcha reading?” that you are even aware of his presence.

You startle so hard that your knee slams into the underside of your table. Ignoring the throbbing pain in your knee and your wildly beating heart, you close your laptop with a snap and turn to Bucky.

“You could knock,” you grouse.

“Why give me a key, then?” he retorts, unapologetic.

You roll your eyes and grumble under your breath, “Clearly, it was a mistake.”

“You didn’t answer me.”

Brows furrowed, you ask, “What?”

He gestures to your laptop. “What were you reading? Your nose was nearly smushed against the screen.”

You blink, trying to think of a reasonable excuse and coming up empty.

“Nothing,” is all your brilliant mind can supply.

Bucky’s eyes narrow for a few seconds, and you pray to every higher power and all that is holy and good that he won’t press further. You remain frozen under Bucky’s suspicious stare, hearing that Old West shootout music playing in your mind.

Thankfully, it seems the deities are feeling indulgent, as Bucky chooses let it go.

He holds up the bags he carried in. “I brought lunch.”

You perk up instantly. “Did you go to that one place—?”

“With the fried rice you like so much, yes,” he finishes for you, smiling.

“You’re the best,” you sigh, stomach rumbling eagerly.

“I know,” he replies, solemn and dramatic like the idiot he is.

He begins taking out the styrofoam boxes and chattering on about something dumb Steve did the other day, and you mean to listen, you really do. It’s just. That article is still lingering in your brain. There’s so many steps and hassles. Plus, it’s not cheap. It would be a hefty investment.

You’d only researched it because, after months of contemplating the pros and cons of having a baby, you determined the pros far outweigh the cons. But then the problem was: how to even make it happen.

Your first thought was that you didn’t think you’d let just any man come inside you, for many obvious reasons. You’d shuddered to think of it. Then there was surrogacy, which is admirable and wonderful, but you’d quickly dismissed that idea as you realized you wanted to actually carry the baby yourself. So that led you to artificial insemination. You weren’t sure how you felt about it yet. There was something a little too clinical about choosing a random man’s sperm to have injected into your uterus.

Bucky’s still speaking as he grabs plates and forks, unaware of your inner monologue. “And then he got Sam involved,” he’s saying, scooping out food onto the plates, “which, as you know, I always think is a dumb thing to do.”

“I want to have a baby,” you blurt, eyes widening at your outburst.

Bucky fumbles with the spoon, sending fried rice flying, muttering curses as he tries to catch it with no luck as it lands with a dull clunk on the table. The silence that follows is loud. It feels like your heart is in your throat as you wait for him to just say something, anything.

“This is… quite a mess I’ve made,” Bucky finally observes. His voice is a bit higher than usual. “Where’s your vacuum? Actually, do you have one of those mini ones? Or would Clorox wipes be better? You know what, I’ll do both.”

He nods decisively then turns an expectant look towards you. His eyes look a bit wild, but you wisely keep that to yourself.

Wordlessly, you direct him to your hall closet. You realize your error a second too late when he opens the closet and reaches for the vacuum on the top shelf, where the purchase you’d made months ago also rests. His fingers get caught in the plastic bag when he grabs the handheld vacuum and its contents spill out. He goes to catch them right away, but once it registers what they are, he lets go of them like they’re on fire and nearly drops the vacuum on his foot.

Heat has been steadily creeping up your neck, but now your whole body feels aflame with embarrassment. The two of you stare at the baby clothes lying unassumingly on the floor for a long moment, until Bucky quietly walks back to the table with the vacuum clutched tightly in his fist. He flicks the switch on and it whirs to life, sucking up the bits of rice scattered around the table.

There’s another lengthy silence after he turns the vacuum off and you're unable to find the right thing to say to break it. Bucky does it for you.

“So… You’re serious.”

You meet his eyes and sigh heavily. “Yeah.”

He blinks a few times before clearing his throat, schooling his expression carefully. “I didn’t realize you were seeing someone.”

You cough lightly and start picking the peas out of your fried rice. “Well, that would be because I’m not.”

“I don’t think I follow,” he admits slowly.

You sigh again, lowering your gaze to your lap. “Look, I’ve thought about this a lot, okay? I’ve given myself months to really make sure it’s what I want. I’m in a good place in my life to have one, Bucky, and I don’t want to feel pressured to wait until I might get married.” You lift your gaze to his. “I want to have a baby,” you repeat firmly. “And I don’t need a partner to have one.”

You’re not sure why you feel the need to defend yourself. It’s not up to Bucky what you decide to do. You don’t need his approval, or anyone else’s. Maybe it’s because, even though you know it's not true, it feels like you're making too hasty of a decision.

After a beat, Bucky amends, “Well, I mean… You do…”

“Oh my god, shut up, you know what I mean,” you groan as you smack his arm, glad that he's not calling you crazy or trying to talk you out of it.

He doesn’t even flinch, the jerk.

“Wait, so what were you reading when I got here?” he suddenly questions, brows furrowed.

“Nothing,” you say too quickly, guiltily.

“Let me see your laptop then,” he counters as he crosses his arms over his chest.

You flounder for a second, scoffing. “What? No!”

“It can’t be that embarrassing, just show me,” he wheedles.

“Absolutely not.”

“Let me see!”

“It’s private!”

“Don’t be a chicken.”

Your eye twitches. “I’m not a chicken.” Bucky smirks and before he can even open his mouth you interject with a finger pointed accusingly at his face, “Do not start clucking at me, Bucky. I’ll kick your ass,” you threaten, though it's weak and you're not the only one who knows it.

You glare when his smirk only widens. Slowly, he moves his arms like he’s gonna flap them like chicken wings.

“Ugh! God, fine! You wanna know what I was reading?” You open your laptop and slide it over to him, turning it to where he can read it. “There.”

Bucky scans the page, then scans it again, eyes flicking all over like it’s in a different language. His cheeks grow redder and redder as he reads and you get a small sense of satisfaction at the sight.

“Wow,” he mutters finally. “You’re turkey baster serious.”

“James Buchanan Barnes,” you say, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“What?” he asks innocently.

When you make eye contact with him, you purse your lips to keep the laughter threatening to bubble out at bay, but the ever growing smile on Bucky’s face is hard to resist and you find yourself snorting a laugh that leads to uncontrollable giggles. Bucky’s laughing with you, his eyes crinkling on the sides. The tension you hadn’t realized you held in your shoulders loosens and you nudge his knee with yours in silent thanks.

“So,” he says after you've both calmed down.

“So,” you repeat, dragging it out, drumming your fingers on the tabletop. “I’ve been doing research, checking out all of my options, and while artificial insemination seems like the best choice… I don’t know, there’s just something too clinical about it,” you reply, voicing your concerns, “It doesn’t feel right. I know I said I don’t need a partner, and I don’t, but… Having absolutely no connection is weird.”

You shrug, waving a hand as if to say oh well, putting an end to the conversation, and pick up your plate to carry it over to the microwave. You reheat Bucky’s food while you’re up, and then you both start eating in comfortable silence. He gets halfway through his meal before speaking up.

“Have you… I mean, did you think about… I’ve heard that, uh. Some people ask another person…”

He trails off, clearly frustrated that he can’t just spit out what he’s trying to say. You think you understand what he means, though.

“I read up on surrogacy,” you say, biting your lip. “But I don’t think I’d want someone else to carry my baby.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean—I wasn’t suggesting, uh, that. Not that there’s anything wrong with it!” he rushes to say.

You tilt your head. “What did you mean then?”

“Well,” Bucky starts, stilted, licking his lips. “For the artificial insemination, have you considered… you know. Asking someone you’re close with?”

You frown, not following.

“For—for the sperm,” he clarifies, shifting in his seat.

“Oh,” you breathe, blinking rapidly, surprised as you think of how to reply. “Um. No? I wouldn’t even know who I could ask, to be honest. That’s quite the request, you know? Who would—“

“Me,” he interrupts, determined and cheeks flushed, “I would.”

Your own face heats. “Oh,” you say again, quieter.

You can say, with full confidence, that not once did it cross your mind to ask anyone to help you, but you especially would have never given thought to asking Bucky.

For a list of reasons, really, with “it’s Bucky” being right at the very top. Like—sure, yes, you’re in love with him, but after two years of no signs of reciprocation you’ve learned to stop dreaming, to stop hoping. If the attraction was mutual he would have shown it by now, right? And on top of that, his friendship means the world to you and you wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize it. You'd never forgive yourself if you ever managed to fuck up the one good, constant thing going for you.

“Bucky,” you start, slow and careful, “this… This isn't something you can just jump into. It’s something you should think about for a while.”

He contemplates that for a second. “You’re right,” he concedes with a nod. “But…” He purses his lips, glancing away for a minute before turning back to you, leaning forward. “Okay listen, this is important for you. It’s going to change your whole life. You said it yourself, not having a connection to the sperm donor feels wrong. You’re my best friend, alright? I—care about you. You should pick someone you can trust.”

He clenches his jaw after he finishes speaking. You sort of hate the way your heart both flutters and plummets at his words. It’s nice to know you matter to him, just not in the way you’ve wanted for too long.

And if you’re really honest with yourself, Bucky would be a great choice as a donor. He’s in great health, has strong features that would look wonderful on any gender. But would you be able to handle the repercussions of having his child? Would you be able to look at your baby and see those features without it sending a pang through your chest every single time? You can’t say for certain.

Yet, the chance to have that type of connection with him, selfishly, sounds too good to pass up.

“At least think about it for a few days,” you murmur reluctantly.

It’s the most acceptance he’ll get and he knows it. A smile blooms across his face and you have to swallow down the warring emotions rising within you.

***

With the amount of research you do on the subject now, it doesn’t take long for you to find out that there are at-home kits for artificial insemination that are much easier (and cheaper). It’s easy to settle on that, clicking on the info to order your kit with butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

You read through the instructions online and it all sounds simple enough, until you get to the part where it says that having an orgasm after injection helps increase your chances of conception.

Blinking, heat crawling up your neck, you read that step several times, hoping you read it wrong, but it doesn’t change.

You… You can’t masturbate with Bucky’s sperm inside you. That’s a line you refuse to cross.

And besides, he’s a healthy man in his thirties who exercises regularly and eats fairly healthy food! You probably—definitely—won’t need to take that step. It’ll be fine. Probably.

Once the kit arrives, you call Bucky and ask him to come over so you can explain the process to him. Since he’s only across the hall of your apartment building, he’s there a moment later, letting himself in with his key.

“Let’s make a baby,” is how he greets you.

“Hold your horses,” you reply, fighting back a laugh. “I gotta walk you through everything first.”

He plops himself down next to you on your couch. “Fine, fine. Go ahead.”

Squaring your shoulders, you begin telling him how it all works, and what parts he is key for. You speak through your awkwardness, avoiding eye contact, when you explain that he’ll need to masturbate into a clean, sterile cup. You leave out how it’s suggested for you to also masturbate, deciding it’s not pertinent information for him to know.

“When do we start?” he asks once you’re done.

“I have to take an ovulation test first to find out the best days for me to conceive, but once I do that we’ll be able to, um.” You gesture vaguely. “I’ll be able to do the injections.”

He nods. “Alright.” He looks at you then, taking your hand in his and giving it a squeeze. “I’ll be here every step of the way, okay?”

“I know,” you say, smiling. “Thank you, Bucky.”

“You’re welcome,” he returns softly.

“No, really, thank you,” you assert. “This is a lot to take on and I can never fully repay you.”

Bucky shakes his head. “I want you to be happy, and I can see that having this baby is going to do that. I’ll do whatever I need to do to ensure it happens.”

You pull him into a hug, willing yourself to not cry. You’re not sure he’ll ever understand what this means for you, personally, or that you’d ever find a way to express it. He’s giving you so much more than just a baby.

***

The first injection time comes and you find yourself fidgeting where you sit as you wait for Bucky to bring over the, uh… sample. You do your best to not think about what he’s doing in his apartment, to not think about exactly how he’s collecting his sperm.

Now is not the time, you mentally scold yourself. Get it together.

A timid knock at your door alerts you to his presence. The fact he’s knocking says a lot about his own level of embarrassment about the situation.

His cheeks are pink when you open the door. “Uh, hi.”

“Hi,” you return.

He clears his throat and lifts the small cup in his hand. “Here’s… well, you know.”

You gingerly take it from him, not knowing what else to say, but when he smiles somewhat crookedly and turns to leave, you find yourself asking, “Will you stay?”

Bucky’s steps pause. “Huh?”

“Will you—I mean… Would you mind staying?” You shift on your feet. “This is a big moment for me. I-I don’t want to do it alone.”

“Are you asking me to…?” He trails off awkwardly.

“Oh! God, no, I wouldn’t—no,” you assure, huffing a laugh, “I’m doing the injection, I just need a little moral support. That’s all.”

Bucky smiles. “Sure, I’ll stay.”

Relief floods through you. You step aside to let him in, closing the door behind him. He follows you to your bedroom and just before entering you stop in your tracks, nearly causing Bucky to bump into you.

“Um,” you mutter, turning to him. “You’ll have to, ah, sit out here,” you explain. “I have to be lying down…”

Understanding dawns on him. “Oh! Right, right, of course. Sorry.”

“I’ll let you know when I’m done,” you promise.

He nods and watches you close the door. You walk over to your bed and sit down, glancing at the syringe you’ll be using and biting the inside of your cheek.

This is it. There’s really no going back after this. Sure, you may not get pregnant the first time, but Bucky’s already said he’d help you for as long as it takes. It’s just… very real now. You don’t feel any doubts, though. You want this.

Inhaling a large breath and slowly letting it out, hands shaking, you take the lid off the cup and pick up the syringe. You remember the instructions, making sure there’s as little air sucked in as possible when you draw out the semen, and getting rid of the few air bubbles that you see. You grab your pillows and lie down, propping them beneath you to lift your hips.

“Here I go,” you mumble to yourself, taking another deep breath and releasing it.

A couple minutes later, the syringe is empty and you’ve got your legs pulled up to your chest. You cover yourself with your blanket and call out Bucky’s name.

“You okay?” you hear through the door.

“Will you come here, please?” you ask.

He walks in cautiously, making sure you’re decently covered before entering fully, wisely not commenting on your position. “Well?”

“I did it,” you whisper.

He stays quiet, letting you parse through your thoughts. You blink when you feel tears threatening to gather in your eyes. He’s beside you in an instant, crawling in the bed and lying down, taking your hand in his.

“Congratulations,” he says softly.

“Don’t congratulate me yet,” you reply, sniffing and wiping at your eyes.

“Still,” he presses. “You’re one step closer now.”

He pulls your hand up and kisses the back of it. You give him a watery smile. The two of you lay there in silence for a moment before Bucky breaks it.

“This isn’t how I pictured myself making a baby.”

It startles a laugh out of you and Bucky grins, pleased to have helped ease the tense atmosphere. He distracts you with idle conversation after that, talking about his plans for the upcoming weekend, asking about yours, tells you about the newest stupid thing Sam did; he talks and talks and talks, until your anxiety is gone, and then he stays to cook dinner for you.

Your hug when he gets ready to head back to his apartment lasts a couple minutes longer than usual. Bucky quietly allows it, dropping a kiss on your forehead when you pull away.

“Same time next week?” he jokes, making you crack a smile.

“Goodbye, Bucky,” you reply exasperatedly as you close your door.

“Bye, sweetheart,” he returns over his shoulder.

***

Weeks pass. More injections. Pregnancy tests taken.

But nothing happens.

All of your tests come back negative.

When reading up on artificial insemination, and pregnancy in general, you’d understood that there was a chance it wouldn’t happen right away. You thought you were fine with that, that you’d be alright with the waiting and all. Looking at your growing collection of negative tests, however, has a sense of dread building within you. You do your best to quell it, telling yourself there’s no need to stress over it. Yet.

Besides, your mind supplies in an overly cheerful manner, there’s still one more method to try!

***

The next time Bucky brings over his sample, he lets himself in, like always, and passes along the cup with an encouraging smile. You try to smile back, but it feels more like a grimace. He either doesn’t notice or he at least pretends not to, thankfully.

But when he goes to make himself comfortable to wait, you’re reminded that you haven’t told him about the, uh… change in procedure, so to speak.

You clear your throat delicately. “I don’t think you’ll need to stick around this time.”

Bucky frowns. “Why not?”

“Because…” You trail off, cheeks pinking, yet not finishing the sentence, because how do you explain this?

“I promised you I’d be here every step of the way,” he recalls. “I intend to keep that promise.”

You wince. “I really appreciate where your heart is, Bucky, I really do, but I literally cannot let you be here for this injection.”

“Why not?”

You look heavenward for mercy. “I have to…”

When you don’t finish your sentence again, Bucky raises a single brow, gesturing for you to go on. “You have to… what?”

You huff, throwing your arms out. “I have to orgasm, okay?”

His eyes go a little bit wide, but you can tell he tries to control his reaction. He swallows, shifting where he sits on the couch.

“Oh,” he mumbles. “Have… have you had to do that before?”

“No. Well, I mean, it was suggested, but I never…”

His eyebrows furrow. “Does it help or something?”

You absently scratch your neck. “They say it increases the chances of conception.”

“But you haven’t been doing… that.”

“I didn’t think I’d need to.”

Bucky inhales like he’s going to say something, but then doesn’t.

“Yeah, so, I don’t think you should be here,” you utter, quickly adding, “No offense.”

“No, yeah, that’s fair, um. I’ll just—I’ll head back to my apartment,” he states as he stands. “You can—I mean, if you still want me to—I can come back over? After you… uh…”

“I’ll let you know,” you reply, voice tight and high.

He nods, looking lost and like he wants to say more but thinks better of it. Finally, he mutters a soft bye and is out the door.

Alone now, your stomach feels like it’s tying itself in knots and your heart is doing its damnedest to beat out of your chest. You try to tell yourself that it’s just another injection, that this is the same as any other time you've done this, but you know it’s not. It's really, really not.

Laying down on your bed, syringe in hand, is much more nerve wracking than before. On your left lies a new addition to your routine. You don’t know why you’re acting like such a prude all the sudden. It’s not like you’ve never masturbated before. Though, you suppose the major difference is that you didn’t have Bucky’s sperm hangin’ out in your vagina all those other times while you did it.

“Quit being such a goober about this,” you tell yourself.

This has to be done for a reason. If you want to have a baby—and you do, very badly—then you’re gonna have to deal with the process.

Once you’ve injected the sperm, you reach for your bullet vibrator next to your left hand. The instructions say not to insert anything, only to stimulate your clit. You try to clear your head, think of it as a chore or something, yet it’s hard not to think of a certain someone.

The vibrator buzzes with the press of a button. You adjust your hips, making sure they’re tilted, then bring the vibrator to your clit. The first touch makes your stomach tense and thighs spasm.

You close your eyes, running the toy along your slit. You really don’t want to drag this out, would prefer to get it over with as quickly as possible, but your mind begins running away with images.

Bucky, settled between your spread thighs, one hand resting on one of them, the other controlling the vibrator. You imagine he’d tease you, slowly trail it along the crease of your thighs, over your hips; everywhere but where you wanted it.

Bucky would probably give in once you whine and beg enough, once your desperation bled into your voice, and hold the vibrator directly to your clit, drink in your cries of pleasure like they’re the finest whisky.

He’d mutter soft but firm encouragement, tell you how good you’re doing, how good you sound. He’d start circling the vibrator, going from quick to lazy swirls, then he’d change the setting to a higher one just to hear you whimper. His free hand would run up your torso to pinch at your nipples for added stimulation.

When you imagine him leaning down to add his tongue into the mix, your mind blanks as your climax hits you, a ragged moan forcing its way out of your throat. You’re quick to turn the vibrator off and toss it to the floor, deciding you’ll worry about cleaning it later, chest heaving as you pant for breath after an intense orgasm.

Shame and embarrassment consume you, mock you for using Bucky to rub one out. You’d given in to the fantasy so easily.

Truthfully, it’s not the first time you’ve thought of him while pleasuring yourself, but the context this time is completely different, and you feel immediately guilty. Admittedly, it’s probably irrational.

That doesn’t stop you from cringing at your actions.

***

You’re sure you’ve bought out the entire pregnancy test section from the convenience store down the block. Currently, there are six different brands in front of you, all promising the most accurate results.

Bucky is sitting in your bedroom, quietly waiting for you to pee on all of them so you can both find out what they say. You chug the last bit of your third bottle of water even though your bladder is fit to burst at any moment. Turning the faucet on for modesty, you make quick work of the tests, then wash your hands.

And wait.

You call Bucky into the bathroom with you. The two of you quietly sit on the edge of your bathtub, counting down the minutes. Part of you wishes Bucky would say something dumb to break the tension, like he usually does, but you're also kind of glad he's just here, next to you, a silent comfort.

It seems like hours have passed when you’re finally sure you can check them.

The first one is negative, and so is the second. The third, however, reads positive. Your heart begins racing, clutching at the counter, but before your hopes get too carried away you read the rest. To your dismay, they are all negative. You stare down at them all, eyes falling on the loan positive test multiple times, knowing that it’s likely a false positive, yet stupidly hoping otherwise.

Your chin wobbles. Bucky hugs you from behind, resting his cheek on your shoulder.

“What do I do, Bucky?”

At your broken whisper, he sighs. “I don’t know, sweetheart.”

Neither of you know what to say or do after that. Bucky continues offering quiet support, his solid presence at your back, and you’re grateful. Eventually, he leads you out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, sitting you down at the table as he starts preparing dinner.

When you’re both eating the spaghetti he made, he breaks the silence.

“Do you think…” he starts, pausing to think of how to phrase his question before carefully carrying on. “Are you going to stop?”

“I don’t want to,” you answer, the implied but hanging heavy in the air.

Bucky sits his fork down. “I know you want this, very much.” He pushes his hair out of his face as he leans forward, elbows settling on the table. “But I hate seeing how sad you get when the tests come out negative. I feel so… powerless. Like I could be doing more or something.”

“You’re doing all you can, Bucky,” you assure.

“That’s the thing, though. I don’t think I am.”

You frown. “What do you mean?”

He licks his lips, locking his fingers together. “I think we should have sex.”

Your fork drops to your plate with a clang, eyes going wide.

“I apologize for how blunt that came out,” he states with a wince. “But, I mean, think about it. You’ve only been using my sperm from a syringe, and up until the last time, you hadn’t been, um, orgasming with it.” You look away, bashful. “I just wonder if maybe trying the old-fashioned way would give you better results.”

“Bucky,” you start, opening and closing your mouth a couple times before shaking your head. “It’s one thing for you to offer your sperm, which I’m thankful for, truly, but… Having sex?”

“I’ve already told you I’m willing to do whatever I need to do,” he retorts earnestly. “Your happiness means a lot to me, okay? I hate sitting around and watching your heart break every week. You’ve tried it your way, now I think we should try mine.”

“I-I don’t know,” you hesitate, chewing on the inside of your cheek, knee beginning to bounce under the table.

His hand slides onto your knee, stilling the movement as he ducks his head to meet your gaze. His eyes are impossibly sincere and your resolve crumbles in an instant.

“It won’t… It’s not going to change anything,” he assures. “I won’t allow it.”

You swallow roughly. He may not, but your heart is going to take its toughest beating yet. It’s going to be hopeless trying to overcome the inevitable emotions that come with sex.

Even so, somehow, your longing for a baby eclipses all of this. Now that you’ve imagined holding your child in your arms, raising them and loving them, you can’t go back. Not anymore.

“Okay,” you allow, softly.

Bucky’s shoulders relax, lips tipping up into a devastating smile.

You’re so fucked. (Pun intended.)

***

Two nights later, you’re pacing in your bedroom, impatiently waiting for Bucky to arrive. You’d been unsure whether or not you should dress up. You didn’t see the point, honestly. Still, a small part of you wondered what his reaction would be if he saw you all done up in lingerie. At the moment, you’re in an oversized t-shirt and pajama shorts.

It’s Bucky, you think, and this isn’t a normal situation, it doesn’t matter what I’m wearing.

You hear his key turning in the lock then and your heart begins hammering away. He calls your name as he enters.

“In here,” you reply, twisting your fingers nervously.

He walks into your room looking just as on edge as you are. He also seems to have had the same idea about his attire, comfortable in his white tee and sweatpants. His feet are bare and for whatever reason that feels way more intimate than it has any right to.

“Hey,” he greets.

“Hi.”

You bite your lip, eyes flitting around your room and coming back to settle on Bucky. He huffs.

“This is ridiculous,” he declares, “It’s just us.”

“Right,” you nod, biting the inside of your cheek.

“It’s not gonna be weird.”

“Nope.”

His jaw ticks. You stare back at him. It only takes a moment for you to realize that somebody has to make the first move, so you steel yourself and turn on your heel, walking towards your bed.

“I’m keeping my shirt on,” you announce as you unceremoniously drop onto the mattress, grabbing your pillows to stuff them under you.

Bucky follows at a sedate pace, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He pauses next to you, taking a second to roll his shoulders, then he climbs in and settles in front of your bent legs. He gingerly places his hands on your knees.

“May I?” he asks.

Mouth suddenly dry, you nod. He moves his hands to the waistband of your shorts and tugs. You lift your hips to help him slide them down and off, along with your underwear. Gently, he spreads your legs.

Your breathing has picked up considerably, eyes firmly trained on the ceiling. You know you’re already wet and are blessedly thankful he doesn’t mention it.

The first slide of his fingers has you inhaling sharply. He slowly gathers your slick and trails it up to your clit, lightly circling it. Your mind recalls your fantasy, but you quickly shove it back to the depths of your thoughts, lest you do something idiotic like tell him about it.

He spreads your legs more, adjusting his position between them. His fingers move down until he can sink one into you. You gasp, hands shooting out to grasp your sheets. He wastes no time and begins thrusting his finger inside you.

It becomes quickly apparent to you that it’s going to be very difficult to hold back any noise or reactions. Goddamnit, you will try, though!

When he decides it’s time to add another finger, you feel yourself clench around them, and his soft fuck does not go unnoticed, evident in the way your pussy traitorously clenches again.

“Can I…?” he asks, voice cracking, but doesn’t finish his thought, making you have to break your staring contest with the ceiling and look at him.

He’s not even looking back at you, he’s staring at his fingers, watching them pump in and out of you, half bent over with a slack jaw, like he wants to…

He meets your eyes then, licking his lips.

Oh.

Swallowing around the sudden lump in your throat, knowing you’re probably going to regret it, you nod.

He’s leaning over and sucking on your clit before you can even blink. You cry out, thighs trying to clamp around his head, but his free hand shoots out to hold you open. It makes you squirm, fisting the sheets even tighter. His fingers curl inside you as his tongue licks around them and you whine, high and needy, and then mouth is back on your clit, tongue swiping over it, sucking on it with loud, obscene noises.

His hand comes up to grab the hem of your shirt, shoves it upward until it’s bunched underneath your breasts. Those fingers ghost back down your torso, goosebumps erupting in their wake.

He speeds up his thrusts and your hand flies down to grip his hair. You don’t think you’re meant to hear the quiet grunt he lets out, but you do, and it has you panting even harder. Your orgasm is building, fast, and you pull on his hair in warning.

“Bucky,” you say on a gasp.

Using his arm to hold you down, his free hand joins, thumb swiping over your clit now as he dips his head to slide his tongue in alongside his fingers. It draws a yell out of you, the ever expanding pleasure within you bursting into the hardest orgasm you’ve experienced thus far in your adult life. You know you’re moaning, bucking into the sensations coursing through you, and you’d feel abashed if you didn’t feel so fucking good.

Before you can become too sensitive, Bucky withdraws his fingers and sits up. You can’t even really catch your breath, though, because in the next second he’s whipping his t-shirt off and shoving his sweatpants down far enough to free his cock.

Your thighs do clamp closed then, at the sight of how thick he is, and he tries and fails to keep his smirk hidden.

“Oh, shut up,” you wheeze.

“Didn’t say anything,” he counters.

He doesn’t let you argue, choosing that moment to shuffle closer and line up with your opening. Cautiously, he eases himself inside, inch by inch. Your mouth drops open, brows furrowing as he fills you, stretching you so perfectly. When he’s in as far as he can go, the breath wooshes out of him, his head falling back. You know he’s trying to be polite and let you adjust, but—

“Oh my god, move,” you demand, impatient.

He huffs a laugh, dropping his heavy lidded gaze to yours. “Bossy.”

“Did you really expect anything else—oh!”

The grin he aims your way after grinding into you is downright sinful. You mentally tell yourself to kick him for that later.

He grabs your hips and the pillows and settles you closer to his lap, changing the angle, then pulls out and glides back in, creating a painstakingly slow rhythm.

You have to close your eyes. You can’t look at him anymore. You knew he was probably a god in bed, but to now have firsthand experience? There was no way you’d be able to fuck anyone else without comparing them.

His grip on your hips tightens, the only warning you get before his thrusts turn sharp.

“Fuck,” you cry out, your hands reaching up to grip the pillow beneath your head.

The sound of your skin meeting his is harsh in the otherwise quiet room. Well, okay, you’re not exactly being quiet, but you can’t be blamed for that.

Bucky, however, is nearly silent. The only thing you hear from him is heavy breathing. You wonder if he’s holding back, the thought crossing your mind for a split second, and then you’re clenching around his cock, trying to see if you can gain a reaction. And boy, do you get one.

He grunts and sucks in a breath, lips parting as his eyes squeeze shut. His hips pick up their pace and hair falls into his face. You find yourself wishing he was closer so you could brush it out of the way.

Stop it, you scold yourself.

He pauses to grind into you again, your walls fluttering around his throbbing cock, and you both sigh. Bucky leans forward, hooking your legs into the crooks of his elbows, and resumes his brutal pace.

“O-Oh,” you whimper.

The new angle is heavenly, his cock dragging along a spot inside you that you thought nobody else could find. Unable to help yourself, you clutch at his arms, nails digging in.

“Shit,” he groans, thrusts faltering.

He lets go of one of your legs to slip his hand between you, rubbing at your clit and sending you that much closer to your second orgasm. He can tell you’re close, but you’re gonna need something to push you over the edge. He leans down even closer, breath fanning out against your cheek.

“C’mon,” he pants. “Let go.”

You shiver when his tongue flicks your earlobe and sucks it into his mouth, keening as the pressure builds. He thrusts harder, faster, and when you grasp his hair and pull, he growls and latches on to your shoulder, biting down. You gasp from the added pain and then you’re coming, shuddering and whining through your release. Bucky isn’t far behind, raising up and fucking into you savagely before pausing abruptly, groaning as he finally comes. He lazily thrusts a few more times to draw it out, then stops, stilling with his cock inside you.

Your hair is sticking to your forehead, as well as your shirt to your clammy back, breathing in lungfuls of air. Bucky is softly caressing your thighs, letting out shaky breaths as your pussy continues to flutter around him.

It takes several moments for you to gather your wits, for the rest of the world to come filtering back in. You are truly and completely fucked now, in every sense of the word.

“Well…” You trail off, voice scratchy.

“That was…”

“Mhm,” you mumble.

Bucky sighs heavily. “Let’s hope it worked this time.”

You hum. “Thank you for your service,” you reply with a lazy salute.

You yelp when he pinches your hip, kicking at him in retaliation. The jostling reminds you, with a gasping groan, that he’s still buried balls deep inside you.

“Um.” You cough lightly. “You wanna, you know… pull out?”

He looks down where you’re connected like it hadn’t even dawned on him. “Oh, uh. Well, I thought maybe it could, like. Help.”

His gaze stays locked, fingers flexing on your hips, and you feel like squirming again.

“I think it’s good,” you say quietly.

Bucky finally glances back up at your shy tone, cheeks pinking. He clears his throat.

“Right.”

Carefully, he eases his softening cock out of you, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from making a noise.

You can’t hold back yours, though, gasping once he’s gone. You feel unbearably empty, but refrain from voicing that incessant thought.

Bucky’s intense eyes stare at your pussy until you reach for the throw blanket next to you. He watches you throw it over your lap, drawing your legs up to your chest, and takes that as his cue, jolting into action.

“Okay, so.” He starts, then stops, climbs off your bed and pulls his sweatpants back up. “This was—I mean, if it doesn’t take this time, we can… try again.”

“Yeah,” you mutter. “Sounds good.”

He nods, bending to pick up his discarded t-shirt. “Great. I’ll just, um, see myself out, I guess.”

You nod, sending a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes in his direction. He seems to contemplate something for a second, then leans down to kiss your forehead before saying a quick goodbye and leaving.

As soon as you hear your apartment door shut, you let your tears fall.

***

It’s not really like you mean to avoid him after that.

Honest.

You simply become busy, that’s all. You definitely don’t go out of your way by taking the stairs in your apartment building to avoid possibly bumping into him in the elevator. No, you take the stairs because you could use the cardio. It’s important you stay healthy right now. And when he texts you to ask if you want to have dinner, you can’t help that you’ve got boatloads of work to catch up on—all five times he asks.

Okay, so, that’s a lie. You’re totally avoiding him. But what on earth are you supposed to say to him now? You don’t think you’d even be able to look him in the eye anymore, not after the fuck of your goddamn life.

That night confirmed what you already knew for the last two years: Bucky absolutely ruined you for anyone else.

More than anything, though, you were angry with yourself. He’d only offered because you weren’t getting your desired results the other way. You should have been able to separate your feelings and emotions from all of it. After all, none of this was about whatever you feel towards Bucky. This was about trying to conceive a baby.

You try telling yourself to get over it. He’s your best friend, you can’t just cut him off because you’re a spineless pansy.

I just need some time, you reason. You can give yourself a few days to wallow over what could have been and then you can reach out to him and pretend like everything is fine. Because it is.

***

Flash forward two weeks to you attempting to sneak into your apartment, only to jump out of your skin when you turn around and find Bucky sitting on your couch, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Oh, good, you’re still alive,” he drawls.

His tone suggests annoyance. You suppose you deserve that.

“Hey,” you say after a pause.

He stares at you for a moment longer before speaking again. “I thought we agreed we wouldn’t let it get weird.”

You agreed, you almost say, thankfully biting it back. You drop your purse on the entryway table, sliding your shoes off and making your way over to sit next to him.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble. You tug your sweater sleeves down and tuck your feet beneath you. “I haven’t ever… I’ve never been intimate with a friend before. It was just… a lot.”

It’s a half truth, at least. You haven’t had sex with a friend before. Or, well, not one you had feelings for.

“You could’ve just told me,” he replies, reaching for your hand.

You nod. “I know, and I should have, I just. Things are all out of whack lately with the whole… trying to get pregnant thing.”

“If I overstepped in any way—” Bucky starts, but you’re quick to interrupt.

“You didn’t,” you promise. “You’ve been nothing but fantastic throughout this whole ordeal. Honestly, Bucky, you’ve done way more than anyone else would have in this situation. I just had a lot going on in my head and let it get the best of me. I’m fine, I swear.”

He searches your eyes and must find what he’s looking for.

“Don’t shut me out again,” he pleads.

Heart cracking in your chest, you can only nod, shuffling closer to pull him into a hug. He buries his face in your neck and holds on tight.

***

Another week passes.

Bucky is with you as you wait for the results of the latest pregnancy test. He’s reassured you that you’ll keep trying until it happens if it didn’t work this time.

When the timer on your phone goes off, you release the breath you’ve been holding. You take tentative steps over to the sink and gingerly pick up the test.

Positive.

Your stomach swoops. It’s positive. You check again, reading the digitized screen, but it stays the same. Positive. Holy shit.

“Okay, wait, no, I need to do more. I can’t get my hopes up again,” you mutter, rushing to open the cabinet under your sink to dig out several more varieties of tests.

You don’t even wait for Bucky to leave before you’re peeing on the other sticks. He’s seen it all at this point anyway, and he doesn’t seem to care, sitting on the edge of your tub with an anxious expression. The downside is that you have to wait another few minutes for these tests to finish and you can’t sit still, pacing back and forth in the small space of your bathroom.

The timer goes off again. You feel like you’re going to throw up when you finally work up the courage to look down.

Every single one of them… Positive.

A shocked, happy laugh escapes you. You cover your mouth, turning to Bucky with wide eyes.

He rises to his full height, coming closer and peering down at the tests, then back to your teary eyed expression.

“Did we…?”

Words failing you, you nod, giggling in astonishment. Bucky’s face breaks into the biggest, handsomest, most gut-wrenching smile. His happiness is palpable and you’re suddenly so overcome with emotion. Your hands are gripping his face and angling it to align your lips to his before you register what you’re doing. He freezes and you hurriedly pull away, taking a few steps back.

“I’m so sorry, I-I don’t know why—”

“Shut up,” he cuts you off, closing the gap between you in a single stride.

He kisses you like his life depends on it, pressing your bodies as close as possible, his hands cupping your cheeks. You clutch his shirt desperately, never wanting to let go. He steals the breath straight from your lungs when he swipes at the seam of your lips with his tongue, moaning happily when you allow him access. A feeble whine from you after he flicks his tongue against yours makes him break the kiss.

“I have a confession,” he breathes into the miniscule space between your mouths.

“What?” you question distractedly.

“I’m in love with you.”

Your gaze shoots up to his, astounded. He brushes stray hairs off your forehead, runs his thumbs softly under your eyes.

“I’ve been selfish this whole time,” he reveals. “I couldn’t let you choose some random stranger to be your sperm donor, to father your child, couldn’t bear the thought of you carrying their baby, because I’ve been in love with you since the moment I met you. I wanted to be the one. And I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, but I’m not sorry I did it.”

You’re hearing the words, yet your brain can’t seem to make sense of them. Surely you’re hearing him wrong. You can’t possibly have this too, right? You can't have Bucky and have his baby…

But he’s here, very real and solid beneath your hands, looking at you like you’re his entire world.

“Bucky…” You trail off, struggling to find the right words, at a complete loss. “I-I’ve loved you for so long now, I didn’t think you…” You shake your head, a giggle escaping you as you stare at him in wonder. “I couldn’t let myself hope.”

He grins, relieved, planting a few chaste kisses to your mouth. “I know this entire circumstance is totally backwards, but I want you, and I want this baby. I meant it when I said I’m not going anywhere.”

Fresh tears gather in the corners of your eyes. “Are you sure?” you still ask.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

You have to kiss him then, uncaring of the tears that trickle down your face. The only thing you are focused on is the way his hands trail down your back, pausing to squeeze your ass, then grip underneath to lift you. Your legs wrap around his waist, arms locked around his neck, as he heads for your bed. He makes a point of throwing your extra pillows on the floor before settling between your thighs and kissing the hell out of you.

He pulls away only to undress you and himself, but he’s always back as quickly as possible, lips pressing kisses wherever he can reach. You impatiently tug at him until his lips are attached to yours again. The way he fucks his tongue into your mouth is nothing short of indecent and it sends a rush of pure want all the way to your core.

When you bury your fingers in his hair, gripping it tight, he grunts, biting your lip. You whimper and he grins as he pulls away.

“You make the most beautiful sounds,” he praises, his hands beginning to sweep down and up, tickling under your breasts.

His thumb and forefinger pinch one of your nipples and you gasp, back arching off your mattress. He repeats it on the other side, just to hear the same noise.

“Bucky, please,” you beg.

“Please what?” he prods. His hands drift further to the creases of your thighs, spreading them open. “What do you need?”

You whine, canting your hips up. “You, I need you, please.”

“You have me, sweetheart.” He tilts his head and you make a noise of frustration. “Use your words, darlin’.”

“Fuck me, please,” you burst out, feeling your pussy clench around nothing.

Bucky smiles, slow and torturous. “Yeah? Want me to fuck you? Fuck this perfect pussy until you’re so full of my come that it drips down your beautiful thighs?”

“Oh god,” you mumble.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he teases.

His fingers slide down your slit, gathering your slick then thrusts two fingers in at once. You groan brokenly, shifting your hips to try and get more friction, but he holds them down with his metal arm. Agonizingly slow, he begins fucking you with his fingers. It’s good, it’s amazing, but it’s not enough. Not when you know what his cock feels like. He takes his precious time fingering you and you’re sure you’re going to lose your mind before the day is done.

“You have no idea how incredible you felt around my cock,” he tells you in a ridiculously conversational tone. “I was trying to think of any excuse I could come up with to have you at least one more time.”

He shifts until his mouth is directly above where you’re dripping for him, and he waits until you make eye contact with him.

“But now I’m gonna spend the rest of my life making you come apart on my cock any chance I get.”

You hardly have any functioning brain cells at the moment, but even if you could form a coherent sentence you wouldn’t have been able to say it aloud, because then he’s descending and all you can feel is the wet warmth of his mouth.

He definitely doesn’t hold back this time, that much is apparent in the way he devours you, lips and tongue drawing out noises you’ve never heard yourself make, pressing his face so far into your pussy that he has to come up for air. His mouth and chin shine when you chance a look down, and when you clench on his fingers his smile goes smug at the corners.

He plants kisses along your hips, the insides of your thighs, around where his fingers are buried within you. He curls them, in search of the spot he found last time. He knows he found it when you try to close your thighs around his head and cry out. Now that he's found it, he angles to brush it on every thrust of his fingers and attaches his mouth back on your clit.

You chant his name, nearly sobbing as you approach your climax, until finally you fly over the edge. Your vision blurs and you’re not sure if you’re making any noise now, unable to hear past the blood rushing in your ears. Bucky helps you ride it out until you’re shuddering from sensitivity.

He kisses your thighs again, trailing them up your stomach and between the valley of your breasts.

“So good, did so well,” he mutters.

Weakly, you lift your hands to trace them down his toned stomach and around his back, down further so you can cop a feel of your own, smiling at his grunt of surprise.

“That was great and all,” you say, arching your back so your chest presses against his, “but I do believe I asked you to fuck me.”

He arches an eyebrow. “Who said I was done with you?” It’s apparently a rhetorical question, as he continues before you get a chance to reply. “I’m gonna fuck you until you come, and then I’m gonna keep fucking you until you come again, and only then will I come so deep inside you there’ll be zero doubt I’ve put a baby there.”

Your legs are lifted and thrown over his shoulders in a blink, his cock pushing into your pussy, dragging out a high-pitched moan from you. There’s barely a pause and then he’s fucking you, just like you asked. The pace is brutal right from the start, a steady rhythm that has you mewling and writhing in pleasure. Bucky is watching his cock as he thrusts in and out of you, his mouth hanging open slightly as he pants. He hikes your hips up a little higher and you jolt through your startled moan. This angle is divine and the telltale signs of your second orgasm start tingling at the base of your spine.

“Can feel you,” Bucky says through panting breaths, “so close. C’mon, let me feel you.”

He pulls you down on his cock, grinding into you, his thumb reaching to rub tight circles over your clit. You sob through your release, shuddering against Bucky as you clench around him. He groans, still barely moving as you come down from your high.

“Fuck,” he grunts. “Come here.”

He helps you sit up, still seated on his cock, making you both hiss from your movement. Your arms automatically wrap around his shoulders and his around your waist. He kisses you so sweetly, a stark contradiction to the way he just fucked you. When you pull away, resting your foreheads together, he grins.

“Hi.”

You crack a smile. “Hi.”

“Ready for more?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“You think you got it in you?” you tease as you play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

The light smack to your ass startles you and you let out a soft sound of surprise, hands tugging his hair harshly. Bucky’s eyes light up.

“Interesting,” he muses.

Another slap, a little harder than the first, and you’re whimpering, your walls clenching around his still hard cock.

“I’ll play with that later,” he promises, voice breathy.

You bury your face in his neck and start shifting your hips. He takes the hint, gathering you as close as he can and thrusts up into you. He can’t pull out as far this way, but the snap of his hips more than makes up for it. You mouth at his collarbone messily, kissing and licking your way up to his jaw, biting marks wherever you see fit. You make it up to his mouth and he kisses you, wet and filthy. You suck on his tongue and a ragged moan claws its way out of his throat. The need for air eventually has you pulling away.

“It’s a good thing you love me back,” you whisper in his ear. “Nobody else could ever compare to you.”

He growls, fisting your hair and yanking your head back to look him in the eye.

“Nobody will ever compare,” he corrects.

You moan. “Yes,” you agree, whining, “No one else could’ve given me a baby.”

Bucky thrusts harder and faster at your words. You’re picking up on a few hints and you can’t say it’s not doing it for you either.

“Filled me up so good, fucked me so well. Gonna be round with your baby soon.”

“Fuck, fuck,” he keens, hurrying to lay you flat on your back so he can fuck into you easier.

The sound of skin meeting skin fills the room, your cries of pleasure mixing in with Bucky’s grunts and curses. His grip on you tightens almost painfully as he chases both your and his orgasm. You’re sure to have bruises tomorrow and you already know you'll be poking at them to remember this moment.

“C’mon, baby, wanna feel you too,” you beg.

His thumb finds your swollen clit once more. It’s beyond sensitive now, feels like a shockwave coursing through you, and without any warning, you come. You spasm around Bucky and he swears under his breath, thrusts going sloppy. With a final groan, he comes inside you, his hips moving seemingly on their own as he draws out both your pleasures. Slowly, he comes to a stop, but he leaves his cock buried in you like he did last time.

You know you’re gonna feel too empty when he does pull out, so you don’t mind sitting like this for a while. Bucky softly runs his hands across every inch of your skin he can touch and you bask in the affection. You card your fingers through his sweaty hair, smiling when he hums happily. It takes only a minute for you to notice the way his hands migrate to your stomach, and when you do you kiss his shoulder.

“Maybe we should go again later,” you suggest faintly.

Bucky grins. “We can do it a hundred more times if you want.”

“Guess I better enjoy it while I can.”

His smile goes soft at the edges.

It’s not lost on you how incredibly crazy all of this is. There will undoubtedly be a conversation, a much needed one that isn’t going to be simple or easy, but it’s necessary.

For now, though, you bask in Bucky’s warmth and loving embrace.

***

Keys jingle as they unlock the door and you perk up where you’re sprawled on the couch. Bucky enters, arms laden with bags from the convenience store.

“They didn’t have the banana ice cream you asked for,” he announces, continuing before your pout fully forms, “but they did have the double chocolate brownie kind you love so much, so I got that, as well as the sour gummy worms, beef jerky, and fried pickles from the deli on your list of demands.”

“What about—”

“And your strawberry Fanta,” he adds with a fond, slightly exasperated smile.

You’re unable to stop your expression from going soft and dreamy.

Ever since you and Bucky figured out where to go with your relationship, he’s been even more attentive and accommodating (and that’s saying something).

You expressed your worry about the possibility of something going wrong, that one or both of you would get bored and leave, or there’d be a big fight that neither of you could forgive. He was quick to reassure you of his commitment, told you there was no way he would ever get bored of you, and that as long as you both promise to talk things out in a calm, mature way, then you’d be alright.

It all sounded so easy when it was put like that. The more you thought about it, though, the more you realized he was right. It wasn’t fair to either of you to already give up before you’d even started. So you’d taken a deep breath and leaped.

Now, you’re five and a half months in, your belly steadily growing and making everyday life increasingly uncomfortable. The changes to your body were physically and emotionally draining, to say the least. Moreso the emotional side. You’d hoped you wouldn’t be one of those pregnant women with strange cravings, and for the most part they were pretty tame, but you do like to dip your sour gummy worms in banana ice cream. Bucky didn’t attempt to hide his disgust over that.

“What did I do to deserve you?” you ask on a pleased sigh.

He places your small cornucopia of goods on the coffee table. You sit up, huffing for breath during the struggle. You go to reach for the ice cream first, but Bucky catches your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and kissing your knuckles as he kneels in front of you.

“You were yourself. Smart, kind, selfless, unbelievably sexy.” You snort at that, but he’s undeterred. “And you’re giving me the best gift I could ever dream of. A family.”

Instantly, you’re crying. He’s grown accustomed to the mood swings by now, taking it in stride as he wipes away the tears with gentle hands.

“Stop being so disgusting,” you blubber through your hiccuping cries. “You’re such an asshole.”

Bucky laughs. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

You sniffle, kissing him. “Love you,” you grumble.

He leans down and plants the softest of kisses to your belly. “And I love you, little lady.”

The idea of you having a child one day always seemed foreign and unlikely, but life has a way of turning out exactly how it’s supposed to… And you wouldn’t change a thing.

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 2

in which fem!reader is feeling insecure about how inexperienced she is around spencer's friends and seeks his expertise to amend the problem

part one | part three

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, oral f receiving, (MUNCH!SPENCE RETURNS), fingering, (very) insecure reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, nipple stuff, kinda sorta implied age gap, god i'm probably forgetting things pls lmk if i missed something important a/n: i've been laboring at this bad boy every day for so long i had to immediately post once it was completed lol. there will be a part three ... maybe i already started it ..... anyway i love u guys and i hope this is a satisfactory part two!! PLS lmk if you liked it!! hearing from u makes my day :')

When Spencer dropped you off at Penelope’s apartment for your first girl’s night—the hostess had promised you, JJ, and Emily lots of gossip sans 'icky men'—you had been ecstatic. You wouldn’t stop rambling to him about how excited you were. 

When he picks you up two and a half hours later, he can hardly get a word out of you. 

It’s not his fault, of course—well, not really, anyway. It’s just that all the girls had wanted to talk about was sex. A topic on which you held very little expertise and had essentially nothing to contribute. Out of the four, you were the only non-FBI agent, the youngest, and undoubtedly the least experienced. It was like high school all over again, except you actually desperately wanted to impress Spencer’s friends. All in all, you weaseled your way out of sharing without giving away that you were still very much a virgin. Sure, you could have said ‘we did hand stuff two weeks ago’, but you had a feeling these women wouldn’t consider that very impressive. 

But you can’t easily relay that information to Spencer—even when he immediately picks up on your sullen mood. He asks you what’s wrong as you make your way down the echoey staircase, but you hold back, muttering something along the lines of we’ll talk about it later. 

Later doesn’t come on the sidewalk outside. It doesn’t come in the car, or at any point during the twenty minute drive, but you feel it rapidly approaching as you climb the stairs to Spencer’s apartment. He unlocks the door and holds it open for you, doesn’t speak as you kick off your shoes and wander aimlessly into the living room.

“Did you eat?” He finally asks, hanging his keys on a hook by the door and glancing over to where you linger in the center of the room like a ghost. 

“Not hungry.”

You both know that wasn’t the question, but he lets it go. 

“Alright... well, I was thinking—“

“Why haven’t we had sex?”

The question flies from your mouth before you can stop it. It tastes like metal and you wish you could take it back as you stand there, cheeks hot and awaiting a reply. It seems you’ve thoroughly astonished Spencer as he gapes at you like a fish out of water for several silent moments, eventually opting to shove his hands in his pockets and shake his head at the wall as he processes the question. 

“I… I don’t know. We just haven’t. Does that bother you?”

Suddenly your whole body feels intolerably warm. Your fingers twitch against your thighs. Of course it bothers you. 

“Do you just not want to? You aren’t attracted to me like that?”

God, you despise how fragile your voice sounds—how much you obviously care, how insecure you clearly are. Spencer picks up on it, despite your most fervent wishing that he wouldn’t, and approaches, stopping a few feet away. You stare at the span of oriental design on the floor between your feet. 

“That’s not at all what I said, angel. I wish you wouldn’t put words in my mouth.”

“Well, then… say something else,” you plead quietly, childishly, still unable to meet his eyes. Prove me wrong. 

He sighs, which does not bode well for you. You wonder if you accidentally triggered the early demise of your relationship and christ do you wish you could rewind. When he steps closer, when his hands find your arms, you’re not sure where to look. But the low, sweet tone of his voice entices you to finally meet his gaze, charmed like a snake as his eyes dart between yours. 

“You know that’s not how I feel.”

You shake your head earnestly, looking up at him with wide eyes as he slowly rubs your arms. 

“No. No, I don’t know that.”

Spencer frowns, glancing at your lips as he speaks. It’s impossible to not do the same when he’s standing so close. 

“But I’ve told you. I don’t understand how you couldn’t know how far from the truth that is.”

You think back to two weeks ago—the first and only time he’d ever done anything more than kiss you. A different kind of flush replaces the shameful one in your cheeks as you try to make your case and not get distracted by the memories of his hands all over you.

“So why won’t you prove it?”

It’d been intended to come out cool, but instead you sound a little desperate, a little out of breath as you realize you and Spencer somehow ended up so close to each other you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. 

“Is that what you need from me? More proof?”

He speaks so lowly, his fingers press into the flesh of your arms portentously, and you think maybe you’ve poked the bear one too many times. But you won’t back down now—not when you think you might actually get what you want. 

So you look up at him and nod, throat too dry to speak. His eyes are deceptively soft, but you don’t miss the big bad something lurking just beneath the surface of the placid hazel. 

“And how do you think I should prove it?”

“I told you what I want,” you whisper, speaking above your pounding heart. 

“Not tonight, honey. Choose something else.”

“Well—that’s not fair,” you stammer, “the whole point is for you to want to have sex with me.”

Spencer smiles a little, tucking hair behind your ear. “I do want that. I promise you I do. But there are other things I want us to do first.”

“Then I want to do that, too! I just—I don’t know what I’m doing, and you do, and I’m already out on a limb by asking for this much. I know this is what I want but I need you to take the lead here. I trust you, Spencer.” You top off the monologue with an imploring gaze—hoping it delivers even a fraction of the impact that his puppy-dog eyes always have on you. 

He seems to study every square inch of your face as you wait in suspense for him to say something. At long last, his lips part—to no avail for several more seconds as he regards you. 

When the words finally do come, they’re an immense relief of pressure. 

“You’re going to promise me that you’ll communicate honestly. That means telling me if we need to slow down or stop, or if you don’t like something—”

“I promise,” you say, perhaps over-eagerly, offering him your extended little finger. 

An incredulous smile narrows his eyes. 

“Is this a pinky-promise?”

“It is.” You wiggle the finger in emphasis, and he shakes his head, smiling wider as you link pinkies. 

“I left you with Garcia for far too long.”

You shush him, disentangling your hands to cup his jaw and press your lips to his. It’s sweet and smiley until it isn’t—until everything slows down like sticky molasses and his hand is ghosting over your cheek, your neck, the curve of your waist, finally substantiating itself on your hip—the other encouraging you to tilt your head back as he deepens the kiss and you feel yourself melting under the heat of his touch. 

The pressure of his body against yours builds until you’re forced to take a step back, and then another, and another. Without question you allow yourself to be herded toward the bedroom, walked slowly backward as he keeps kissing you and blindly trusting he’ll make sure you don’t run in to anything. The bedroom door clicks shut behind him, and it is in all practicality a pointless gesture—but you find it incredibly comforting nonetheless.  

It’s too warm beneath your sweater and his hands are cool as they slip under the hem, sliding against the curve of your hip. Spencer’s never seen you without a shirt, you realize, as he pulls away from the kiss by only centimeters.  

“Off?” he mutters, thumbing at the knit fabric. And while you’re far from confident, you’ve certainly been making progress in this area. You help him tug it over your head without a word, noting a distinct and surprising lack of terror within yourself as you watch for his reaction to you. Hands glide slowly up your waist and you find yourself enchanted by the slight furrow of his brow, the parting of his lips. He traces down the lacy edge of your bra, skimming sensitive skin as he goes. 

“Pretty,” he murmurs. “You’re… so pretty.”

It seems you’ve rendered him uncharacteristically prosaic. The reaction might be underwhelming if it were anyone else—but Spencer Reid is a man who probably knows every synonym for pretty in the English language. Looking at you, he can’t think of a single one. In an odd way, it’s the highest compliment he could pay you. Your cheeks heat and your stomach flips as he drags a knuckle up the center of the cup, and you can feel it through the layers of lace and fabric. He leans forward, ghosting his lips over yours and continuing to run his fingers over the sensitive spot. “Do you know how pretty you are?”

This is one argument you will not be winning—one he’ll keep bringing up at the most inopportune times until he gets his way. 

“Spencer…”

“Don’t Spencer me. I’m asking you a question.”

The words don’t seem nearly as harsh as they really are when they’re delivered velvet-soft, with his lips and hands on you—when he’s so deftly popping the button on your jeans and dragging the zipper down with all the quickness of a slight-of-hand. It makes it hard to focus, even harder to speak. 

“We have… we have differing views on this matter.”

Generous handfuls of your hips and ass are taken as he helps you tug down your jeans before you kick them off, now left just in your underwear. 

“I thought I argued my point fairly well last time you were here. You didn’t learn anything from that?”

“Mm… maybe you just need to remind me.”

“Oh, I think I have to,” he agrees through a smile you can only hear. Gentle fingers skim up your back and tap the clasp of your bra. “How about this? Can we take this off?”

Any confidence from earlier crumbles and you loose a nervous hum—which is not the enthusiastic yes you’re sure Spencer will be seeking all evening. He pulls away, features etched with the beginnings of concern and a searching gaze. Asking would be unnecessary; the words simply come tumbling out of you. 

“What if you don’t like how I look?”

Spencer doesn’t even blink.

“That’s not going to happen.”

How you wish you could have the same assuredness in yourself that he seems to. 

“But what if… what if you’ve been with other girls who are more, like—I don’t know, just—better? Prettier?”

“Honey, you’re—” a sigh, a pause as he searches for the words—his eyes dart up and down your form, assessing, and when he looks back up at you, they’ve cleared and softened. He pulls you a little closer, rubbing circles into your back with his thumb. “I’m not thinking about anyone else right now. I’m not interested in anyone else right now. I already think you’re perfect, and I’m going to keep thinking that regardless of how you look. When I look at you, I’m not looking for things to critique. Do you understand me?”

As far as sentiments go, it’s a nice one. But the pressure of being seen still feels like an impossible burden. You whine, leaning your head against Spencer’s chest. He accepts your weight and runs his hand over your back as you look up at him. 

“But what if I’m hideously deformed?”

His eyebrows raise. 

“You’re not.”

“But what if I am?”

“Okay. It seems like you don’t feel ready yet, which is completely fine, we just won’t—”

“No!” you protest. “I am ready. I am. But… you have to promise to be nice to me no matter what. Or break up with me if you don’t like what you see so I don't have to wonder.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he says, kissing you, “and the only thing I’m willing to promise is that I’ll think you’re perfect. Me being nice will come as a natural byproduct of that which is very different than being nice by artifice. Take it or leave it.”

A moment of hesitance—but it’s short-lived. This is more important than your insecurities. Spencer is more important. 

“Take it,” you mumble against his lips. His fingers trace up the smooth skin of your back, all the way to the fabric and metal hooks on your bra. 

“Thank you.”

You wouldn’t have thought Spencer’s genius would manifest in being really good at undoing the clasp of a bra, but you can truly say you’re impressed by the ease with which he does it. It falls to the floor, leaving you completely shirtless for the first time in front of him. 

“Well?” you murmur, arms crossed defensively underneath your chest, because you understand overtop would sort of ruin the whole thing. “What’s the verdict?”

“You,” Spencer manages after a moment—you literally watch him memorizing every square inch of your body— “are ridiculously beautiful.”

The way his voice gets quieter makes your stomach flip. It sounds genuine. Too genuine to be faked. 

“So… no breakup?”

It seems that the more vulnerable you feel, the less likely you are to take a compliment. Spencer, who is always seeking patterns, probably recognizes this one, and doesn’t push you so hard this time. After a silent moment, he sighs and cradles your face in his hands. 

“You’re gorgeous. I hate how incapable you are of seeing that. We’re going to talk about this.”

“Yeah, but not right now, right?” you murmur, standing up on your tiptoes to kiss him. 

“Not right now,” he agrees. 

His lips are so soft and gentle against your own it feels like love, it feels like being talked down from the ledge of your own insanity. Somehow the way he strokes your hip feels more nurturing than sexual. It’s like he has sex and chaste affection on tap, able to turn them on and off at will. You’re happy to drown in either. Ideally, both.

After a while, his hands begin roaming farther, become bolder in their excursions over your flesh. Up, down, over your waist and ribs. Clearly Spencer had been trying to ease you into it, but you still can’t hide your sharp inhalation when his thumbs graze the sensitive skin of your breasts. He pulls his lips from yours, hands splayed over your sides. 

“Sit down.”

It’s much too gentle to be a command, but you frown. 

“Without you?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he chuckles, lightly squeezing your waist. “Just sit. Utilize patience.”

You sit on the edge of the bed with an atypical reticence—you’re just a little too nervous for a snippy comeback. Spencer picks up on this, features softening sympathetically as he undoes his tie with nimble fingers. It lands somewhere on the bed and he leans over you, resting his weight on his fists and offering you a quick kiss. His voice is soft and designed to soothe as he speaks, mere inches away from your face, and so quiet it could only be heard at this range. 

“Are you nervous?” Cloth from the duvet pinches between your fingers. For a moment you don’t reply, dropping your head to watch when Spencer runs his hand over your thigh. “It’s okay if you’re feeling anxious, baby. We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

You expel a frustrated huff. 

“I want to. Just because I’m nervous doesn’t mean I don’t want this. I can handle a little bit of anxiety.”

He hums, dropping to a crouch and inserting himself directly in your line of sight. 

“I know you can. But you don’t always have to push yourself so hard.”

“I’m fine pushing myself a little. I pinky-promised I would tell you if I wanted to stop, remember?”

“Oh, how could I forget a pinky-promise?” he smiles. 

How could you forget anything, you think, becoming flushed and silently insolent at his dulcet teasing. 

“Please, do something.” It’s a whisper, brushing his lips as you lean down until you’re nose to nose. His hands are on the back of your legs. 

“I’m working on it.”

“It doesn’t look like it.”

“You’re smart, angel. Tell me why I've got you naked on my bed and I’m kneeling in front of you. Where could I possibly be taking this?”

Oh, you have a pretty strong inkling—but you’re scared to voice it and be wrong. Instead of risking it you shake your head slowly, shyly. What you’re not expecting is for Spencer to duck his head down, slide his hands up the side of your thighs and press kisses to the delicate skin there. It feels good—better than you’d have thought. 

“You don’t know?” he asks, looking up at you through burnished gold-rimmed pupils. “No guesses?”

“No guesses,” you agree breathlessly, hotter than you were when you had your clothes on and all the energy in your body condensed into one point between your legs. Spencer hums like he’s considering your answer, smoothing his thumbs over the soft skin of your thighs so gently it feels like burning. 

“I don’t think you’re being entirely truthful. Lie back, sweetheart.”

You do as you’re told, scooting up on the mattress and falling back on your elbows. Spencer wastes no time in climbing over you, leaving you in much the same position as the last time you’d been in his bed. The sheets feel cool against your bare skin, but he is exceptionally warm and solid over you. 

“I’m being honest.” Lie. “I don’t know what you’re going to do.”

Lips find the most sensitive spot of your neck, dancing over it torturously. The front of his shirt brushes your chest. Your thighs clamp together. 

“I don't like being lied to. Just say it, baby. I know you know.”

“Spencer,” you whine, fists bunching the excess fabric around his waist. Warm breath condensates on the skin of your neck as he chuckles. 

“You don’t like being teased, huh?”

“Please, Spence,” you whisper. You notice the pattern of his breathing pause momentarily before it all comes rushing out at once—and you catalogue that particular plea for later usage. 

“I can’t say no when you ask me like that.”

You push your fingers into his soft hair. 

“I know.”

It was a lucky guess. 

He’s still for a moment, relishing the feeling of your hands in his hair, before darting up to kiss you. 

“I’m going to use my mouth this time,” he murmurs against your lips. Though you knew that was what he intended, your heart stumbles in its perpetual march. “Is that okay?”

“What if I…”

You trail off. This is a very intimate situation which you’re not quite sure you have delicate enough language for. Or maybe you’re just stalling. Either way, Spencer is eternally patient with you. 

“You need to stop worrying so much, pretty girl. I’d love to do this for you. But it’s your call.”

“Love is a pretty strong word.”

“Sometimes I think not strong enough.”

The way he’s looking down at you so tenderly, brushing hair from your face, makes you think maybe he’s not just talking about how much he would love to go down on you. Regardless, it fortifies your trust in him. Spencer is the kindest person you know. He’s so clearly an enthusiastic giver. Why not allow him to give you this? 

“Okay,” you breathe. “You can—yeah.”

As usual, you’re impressively awkward, but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, you think he not-so-secretly delights in being the one to fluster instead of the other way around. Rarely has he mentioned his past romantic and sexual exploits, but gathering bits and pieces, you assume he was a fairly late bloomer. He probably knows what it’s like to be nervous and so deeply unsure of yourself. 

“Do you remember what you promised me?” he whispers, pressing butterfly-light kisses to your jaw. Your eyes flutter shut as his lips traverse down your neck, teeth skimming over the delicate skin while your breath catches. 

“Mhm.”

“You’re not gonna break that promise, are you?”

His voice, soft and muffled by your skin, is the most exhilarating and disorienting high. Your entire body buzzes with anticipation, satisfied only where his lips soothe and his body presses against yours. It takes a moment for you to remember to reply. 

“No.”

Reward comes in the form of his thumb brushing over the peak of your breast at the same time as he murmurs, “good girl.”

Your stomach flips at the endearment—you squeak and arch into him slightly. Spencer’s hand slides down your ribs as he chuckles, lips pressed just above your collarbone. 

“You’ve never called me that before,” you shudder as he continues kissing over your neck. 

“It’s not appropriate in most conversational contexts. But I can tell you’ve always been good.”

“Really? How?”

Spencer pauses, pushing himself up to regard you with searching eyes. The places he’d kissed feel cold without him. 

“I just can. You’re thinking too much, baby. I need your focus on me.”

“It is on you,” you huff. 

You watch his expression shift minutely. He loves games. Of course he’d love playing with you. That knowledge is why you’re only partially surprised when his thumb catches on your nipple again. 

“Is it? You’re only thinking about how it feels when I touch you here?”

A stammering nod. 

He toys with the sensitive flesh only a second more, amusement lighting his eyes, before dragging his hand down, down, down until it’s between your legs. Fingers trail over your clothed core, skimming the most sensitive part of you while your breath hitches.  

“Tell me how it feels when I touch you here.”

“Really good,” you admit, a heavy exhale escaping parted lips as he pins you with his gaze. 

“Really good, right. I can make it feel even better. Do you want me to make it feel better?”

Your thighs drop fully open and he adds just a bit more pressure until you’re pushing against his hand in search of more friction. 

“Yes please.”

“Then no more questions. I need you to trust me.”

Your answer is a breathy, dreamy sigh—you’d do anything, say anything for him. 

“Okay.”

Spencer kisses you, absorbing your noises of protest as his hand ceases between your legs and settles on your hip. But you’re trusting him. No whiny complaining. No unnecessary questions. 

Things go much quicker once you’re not interrupting him every twenty seconds to say something. His lips reattach to your neck, retracing their path (albeit quicker) until he’s below your collarbone. You watch in rapt fascination, twisted brows and parted lips as he peppers kisses down over your breast before dragging his tongue over your nipple. A jolted little moan spills out because you hadn’t been prepared to hold one in. Waves of hair fall over Spencer’s face, obscuring him from your vision, but you don’t think to push it away—your body is too busy processing the sensation to be much use on any other front. He darts his tongue over the peaked flesh, eliciting more little open-mouthed exhalations of pleasure from you. Earlier you hadn’t really thought it necessary for your bra to come off—you had no idea this could actually feel so good. A moment later he begins toying with the other nipple and you gasp as a bolt of heat goes straight to your core. 

You curse, further words catching in your throat as he suddenly switches, mouthing at your other breast and letting the cold air chill the other until you have goosebumps. It feels a little like hypnosis—you’re unable to move or speak as his tongue laves over you. Soon he’s replacing his mouth with a thumb again, sucking a mark onto your tit just above your nipple. You whimper a little at the pleasant brutality of it, hoping as he releases that it won’t soon fade. Spencer swipes over the stinging skin and presses a tender kiss to it, almost like an apology—but you sincerely doubt he’s actually sorry. 

Then he resumes his descent, leaving soft kisses down between your breasts, over your ribcage and stomach—when he reaches your hips, he doesn’t pull off your underwear all at once. Rather, he slides the fabric down centimeter by centimeter, kissing the revealed skin like it’s precious. 

This time you don’t need to be told to lift your hips. He helps you slip the final piece of clothing down and off of your legs, flinging it somewhere blindly before getting comfortable between your thighs once more. Your heart pounds with arousal and anxiety as his arms wrap around your thighs and his hands rub up and down the tops of them slowly. 

“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, loosening his hold on one leg to thumb at your folds. They glisten in the dim light of his bedroom as he gently reveals your clit. A soft whine escapes you when he nudges at the aching bud, slipping over it a few times and alleviating a bit of the pressure that’s been building. “Shh, baby. I know. I’m gonna take care of it. You’re being so good for me.”

Fuck. The way he talks to you makes your brain turn to mush—you’re utterly incapable of forming an intelligent thought. Spencer has rendered you a complete idiot, and you’re not upset about it in the slightest. 

He presses more gentle kisses to the creases between your thighs, just above your clit—everywhere except for where you need him most. Everything aches for him in the best way and at least you’re too turned on to be very insecure anymore. All you want is relief. But you’re trusting him. 

Thankfully, he delivers. 

The tip of his tongue grazes so lightly over your clit that if you weren’t this worked up you may not have felt it at all. In your current state, however, the stimulation echoes through every atom of your being. Every muscle is tense, frozen in place—you can’t even breathe for a second. He does it again, a little flatter, with a little more pressure, and you whimper. It’s a delicate thing, almost pained and definitely overwhelmed as he gently begins working his tongue against you. Your head cranes up to watch, your jaw drops. Approximations of curse words try to form, but come out only as, “f-fu—oh,” so whiny and soft it doesn’t even sound like you. He hums sympathetically, but you suspect it morphs into a chuckle as you continue to gasp and mewl. 

There are times where you can hold back sounds of pleasure. When you’re by yourself, it’s typically not a problem. Two weeks ago when Spencer was knuckle deep in you for the first time, it had certainly been a challenge, and you’d pretty much given up. But this—this is something else entirely. It feels like religion. It feels like compulsion. Even if you had the slightest modicum of control over yourself, which you currently don’t, you wouldn’t want to keep quiet. You want him to know what he’s doing to you. 

So you let every cry, every whine and whimper drag from your lungs, unbidden and unshaped. You’re new at this, after all—every broad lick feels so good that you have no fucking idea what do to with your hands or how to stop rolling your hips or how to censor your sounds. 

“Spencer,” you keen in one of the moments you remember to breathe. He moans against you, taking you into his mouth and sucking lightly. Your hips buck. “Oh, my—fuck!”

The hand that’s still around your thigh rubs soothing lines up and down. The one that’s spreading you open pulls your folds apart a little bit further, granting him more access to your clit. He flicks his tongue and you almost come then and there, vision going gray for a split second. 

“Wait, wait, Spence—“ you squeak, writhing and trying not to squeeze your thighs together for fear of hurting him. He pulls back and looks up at you, lips shining with your slick and eyes glazed with lust. Fuckfuckfuck he looks so fucking good. “Please, just… slow down, or I’m gonna… or it’s gonna be over.”

The corner of his mouth twitches as he rubs circles into your inner thigh. 

“It’s over when you say it’s over. You don’t have a refractory period. We don’t have to stop at one.”

“Oh—you don’t—you don’t have to do that,” you stammer. 

“I know I don’t have to. But if you want me to, I want to. You taste so good, angel girl.”

Well, shit. 

He looks absurdly sexy between your legs like this. You have no idea how you got so lucky, but you don’t plan on taking it for granted. Your fingers tangle in his hair. 

“I don’t know if I can do more than one,” you admit shyly, slightly embarrassed by how little you know about yourself and in general compared to Spencer. Hazel eyes sparkle in the warm light. 

“How about we start with one and see how it feels?”

Your voice is breathy when you respond, “okay,” already impatient for him to get back to it. Spencer seems just as eager, immediately kissing between your legs with a passion that makes your lips jealous. 

The flat of his tongue presses circles against you and your hips buck, already ramping up to that point you’d been at before calling a time-out. Slowly his fingers find their way to your entrance and he teases you with them, dipping in to the first knuckle before withdrawing again. If you could form words, you’d beg him to just do it already, but all you can manage is an affronted whine as you tilt your hips down, hoping he catches the meaning. 

Of course he does—pushing two fingers inside you at once. The intrusive stretch adds a sharp edge to the pleasure, makes it more interesting, as your brain short-circuits and you choke out a moan. It only takes a few slow pumps of his fingers in tandem with the pressure of his tongue until your hips are writhing and you’re and mewling desperately, more overwhelmed with pleasure than you’ve ever been. You push his hair back, able to see him for the first time, and fully appreciate the hollow of his cheeks, the way he looks up at you with perfect, glassy half-lidded eyes, the rhythm of his hand and tongue—he takes your clit between his lips once more, sucking lightly, and you’re done for. A pornographic sob escapes from deep within you as you come, but he doesn’t stop. The orgasm lasts longer than you knew one could—although, it’s only your second time, so you don’t exactly have a lot of data to go off of. Your entire body feels warm and floaty, and what he’s doing feels so good you want him even deeper—but you know he won’t give you that yet. Instead you focus on the slow burn of your orgasm, allowing him to carry on for a while until you begin slowly drifting back to earth and it becomes a bit too much. He recognizes the barely-there whine for what it is and pulls his fingers from you carefully, pressing one final kiss to your clit that makes your legs twitch and summons a weak little moan. 

Spencer’s lips find other avenues, over the delicate skin of your thighs and hips and stomach as he slowly drags himself up again. By the time you’re face to face again you’re still breathing hard. You sort of feel like prey underneath his weight, studied so scrupulously, known far more intimately by him than anyone has ever known you before. But there is so much light and kindness in the way he looks at you that you almost can’t make sense of it. 

Maybe it’s possible to be known and still wanted. The possibility spins like a coin on its edge in your mind. An idea you spent so much time trying to nurture and is only just now beginning to sprout. Maybe someone could see you at your most vulnerable, and still find you worthy of kindness. Appreciation. Affection. 

Spencer certainly could, it seems, as he ducks down to kiss you. You dodge it, turning your head demurely. He nudges his head against yours, speaking so, so softly, utterly cloying as he teases, “what? You’re not gonna kiss me now? Is that how it is?”

“No!” you balk, equally as quiet and especially bashful. “Not when you… no.”

“Let me kiss you,” he pleads, so earnestly you turn your head back to face him. His big eyes are hazy, reflecting all the warmth and dizziness you feel. “Let me kiss you. Please.”

You whine.

“I don’t wanna… taste… myself.”

Spencer doesn’t miss a beat. 

“Hm. We’ll need to work on that. Because one day, I’ll make you come just like that again, and then I’m going to fuck you, and you’re really going to want me to kiss you then, angel.”

Something flickers in your core. 

Suddenly you’re not so squeamish. You really want him to kiss you now. But it seems he’s going to have his fun, first. 

“Open.” Without even thinking about it, your lips part. He really ought to be careful with what he tells you to do—you’re all too compliant. Even as his fingers slip between your lips, you’re obediently hollowing your cheeks around them, watching him with big eyes as his own mouth falls slightly open. “Oh, baby,” he croons. “What are we gonna do with you?”

That flicker has returned to a full-fledged throbbing once you open your mouth again, slightly dizzy from lack of oxygen. 

“Can you make me come again right now?” you whisper, grasping lightly at his shirt. He grins like he loves the idea—and you let him have his way, accepting his lips on yours with no complaint. After a few moments, (the taste is surprisingly unobtrusive), he pulls away.

“I would love to.”

[bugs013]

“You stayed?”

Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

Not my pics

Warnings- basic criminal minds violence, blood, hospitalization, nightmares, mentions of suicide, mentions of making out, use of ‘Y/N’ but only a few times, i don’t think any pronouns were used but correct me if i’m wrong! Lmk if i missed anything!

A/N- this is my first time actually writing something so it’s not the best. I wrote this for my sister and she wouldn’t shut up about it so here it is lol. Also I’m dyslexic so if there are any mistakes then please let me know! (I reread it at least 3 times lmao) i’m open to criticism just don’t be too extreme pls lol

When you started at the BAU everyone seemed pretty nice except for one person, Spencer Reid, you weren’t sure why but for some reason you two just didn’t get along. As time went on nothing changed. The team tried to get you two to be friends but it never worked, everyone just got used to it, simple shaking their head or laughing when the two of you would glare at each other or make comments about each other’s ‘bad’ performances.

This case has been horrible, you’ve gotten so many leads but it keeps hitting dead ends, everyone was sitting around the table pissed until Spencer of course figured something out. He started writing on the board.

Morgan noticed first, his brows furrowed. “Whatcha got kid?”

At that everyones heads snap up at Reid and the board, why is he so stupidly smart?, there is silence for a moment as everyone shares some confused glances.

Spencer rambles on about where we will find the unsub and how, it took a minute to explain but soon enough everyone is up and heading to a house where supposedly the unsub will be.

You, Morgan and Rossi go in the back while JJ, Reid and Hotch go through the front. Everyone searches around but no one is in the house, that is until You and Spencer find a way to the basement, Spencer went down the creaky stairs but before you could even make it down two step’s Spencer was hit by the unsub, you point your gun at the man.

“Let me see your hands!”

He points a gun at his hostage’s head, holding her tightly with his free arm. “I’ll shoot!”

You glance over to see Reid was back up with his gun pointing at the unsub as well, geez that was fast.

“She is not who you think she is. You don’t want to kill her.” Spencer said to the man.

“She killed my girlfriend! She deserves to die!”

“She had nothing to do with it, she’s innocent. Lily killed herself Adrian. She was hurting herself.”

“Shut up! You’re lying!” The gun now pointed at Spencer and you can see that he’s about to pull the trigger, as soon as you hear the gun shot you quickly jumped in front of the bullet, you have no clue what came over you but all you know is the pain you felt in your shoulder was brutal. You hit the ground with a loud yelp, you look to your shoulder and see the blood oozing out. “Shit”

“Y/N!” Spencer shouts as he soon fell to his knees next to you.

But then you see the unsub running up the stairs and you push Spencer with you free hand, the other over your bleeding wound. “He’s getting away idiot.” But Spencer didn’t bother moving, besides the rest of the team already had the guy now. He shouts that you need an ambulance and the last thing you remember was Spencer shaking you and saying; “stay with me Y/N.” As your vision then went black.

~~~~

You wake up to the sound of machines beeping around you and the cool air of the hospital giving you chills, the thin blanket draped over you didn’t do much to warm you. You blink a few times as your vision slowly unblurs, then you realize someone was holding your hand, you squint to see who it was and when you realize it was Reid you squeeze his hand gently and his head pops up. “You’re awake?”

“You stayed?” He smiled softly. Then he glances at your interlocked hands, he clears his throat as he pulls his hand back awkwardly. Your brows furrowed and you chuckle weakly. “I don’t mind.”

His brows raised and he gives a bit of a confused look before then speaking again. “Why did you do that?” He asked. “Do what?” You ask, forgetting that you literally took a bullet for him some hours ago.

“Don’t be dumb.” He said before answering your question. “Jump in front of the bullet?”

“Ohh.” You shrug. “The team needs you…” His brows furrowed. “So? They need you too.” You shrug with one shoulder. “Yeah but without you half the cases would never get solved.” “That’s not true-” “Spencer. It’s true and you know it. We sat in that room for hours, days even, constantly hitting nothing but dead ends…until a little nerd finally figured it out and look, we got the guy-” You paused, you don’t remember if they actually got the guy. “Wait we did get him right?” Spencer chuckled softly as he nods. “Yeah, we got him.” You laugh softly. “Good.”

~~~~

It’s been about 4 weeks now since you had gotten shot and the whole time Spencer was by your side, while in the hospital and after. it was nice, but he was only doing it because he owed you, right? I mean you did save him from a bullet. You have basically fully healed now though.

Spencer is over at you apartment, you already told him you were fine on your own but he insisted on staying while you were hurt and he is still insisting to stay while you get over it all too. And while you did appreciate the help a lot you were starting to feel things you didn’t think you’d ever feel for him. The two of you are enemies, the only time you are ever civil is on the field. But now that you have actually spent some time together and got to know each other, you like him. You like him?

You yawned as you adjust your position on the couch, your eye lids were barely open when you heard Spencer speak. “Tired?” You nodded lazily. “Well i made some soup, you should eat before you go to sleep.” He says as he walks over to the couch. “Mmm, that sounds sooo good but ‘m sooo tired…” You said as you forced yourself to sit up. “It’s only 6:40, you can’t be that tired, can you?” You yawned and shrugged as you sat up. “I didn’t get much sleep last night.” He gives a bit of a confused look. “Oh, why didn’t you get sleep?” “Nightmares.” You say with another shrug. “Nightmares?” He asked and you nodded. “Do you want to talk about it?” You shook your head and got up, walking towards the kitchen. “Come on, food’s gonna get cold.” You say, ignoring the look of concern that filled his face. He’s worried but he can’t force you to talk so he just reluctantly follows you to the kitchen.

~~~~

Your were still drowsy as you put your bowl in the sink but the food did give you at least a little energy. “Y’know, I still don’t understand how you’re such a good cook, i can barely make grilled cheese without burning it.” You say with a little chuckle, Spencer has cooked some pretty delicious food throughout the past weeks and at first you told him he was a bad cook but then he stopped cooking so you had to tell the truth. He lets out a soft laugh as he followed behind, placing his bowl in the sink as well. “It’s easy, just read some cook books, watch some videos and try.” He said as the two of you make your way to the couch.

~~~~

You lay on the couch, your legs hang over the armrest giving Spencer enough room to sit on the other side, near your head. You were asleep, well that’s what Spencer thought at least but when he clicked off the TV and got up to leave he felt a hand on his own and heard your sleepy, quiet voice. “Don’t go…” His brows furrowed as he looked down at you for a moment. “It’s almost nine-” “please…” You interrupted and squeezed his hand lazily. He was sorta confused but then he sits back down. You put your head on his lap as you start to doze back off. “Thank you…”

Spencer fell asleep confused that night.

~~~~

The next morning you wake up to the smell of coffee and you smile, he really stayed? With a yawn and a stretch you got up and went to the kitchen, seeing Spencer with a book in hand, a random one from your bookshelf, you walk over to him. “Did you actually stay all night?” You ask as you lean against the counter, his back still facing you. He spun around at the sound of your voice, putting the book down on the counter and giving you an sweet yet awkward, soft smile. “Yeah, you wanted me to didn’t you? Besides you fell asleep on my lap so i kinda had no choice.” He shrugs a little and you chuckled. “You didn’t have to stay, you could’ve told me to move.” But he shook his head. “You were tired, i didn’t want to wake you up.” You shrugged but then your brows furrowed as you realized you didn’t wake up in the middle of the night like you have been. “Hey! y’know I didn’t have nightmares last night? I actually slept through the night.” You smiled, thankful that you finally got a full nights rest. “Really?” He says as he pours some coffee in a mug, handing it to you. “Yeah, that’s the first time in like a week.” You say, taking the coffee and saying a soft thank you as well. “Thank you for staying…i think that helped…” You looked down at the coffee in your hand as you spoke. Spencer smiles softly. “Oh, it’s no problem, although it would’ve been nice to at least have a blanket.” He joked, after all he was in an awkward position sitting on the couch without a blanket or pillow, but he was just happy you got to sleep well. You chuckled. “Ah, yeah sorry, the couch probably wasn’t very comfortable.” “It’s ok i’m just glad you got some sleep.”

~~~~

It’s been three days of Spencer staying at your apartment to help you sleep at night and the two of you have gotten pretty close, neither of you were really sure why but somehow him being there helped. It’s now 6 PM and you’re helping watching Spencer make dinner for the two of you. You were having a good time just chatting and laughing. At some point you turned on some music, when a song you like starts playing you smile as you took his hands into your own and make him dance with you. When the song ends the two of you were face to face. Both of you froze as you stare at each other for a moment and then slowly the gap between you closed and your lips met in a soft kiss. You felt like a swarm of butterflies had been let loose inside your stomach. Spencer slowly pulled away and both of your faces were flushed. “Um…” You felt like your heart stopped for a minute, ‘did he hate it? Did you ruin everything?’. You thought until you were snapped from your thoughts by his lips pressed back onto yours. Well there’s your answer. As you kiss back your hands go up to his hair while his hands cupped your cheeks holding your face to his. The kiss quickly grew more passionate as your tongues invaded each other’s mouth hungrily and his hands began to carefully roam your body.

Ping

Both yours and Spencer’s phone went off with a text from Garcia; duty calls!

You groan as you heard the devices, knowing it’s probably work. The two of you separate as you check your phones to see that of course it’s time for work. “Stupid job.” Spencer chuckled lightly as he pulled you in for one more gentle kiss before the two of you ate quickly then headed off to the BAU.

~~~~

(a little bonus cuteness)

On the jet ride back home you were exhausted, you end up falling asleep on Spencer’s shoulder and as Spencer carefully covered you with a blanket and kissed the top of your head JJ noticed, she furrowed her brows at Spencer and he gives a little smile then rest his head on yours and closed his eyes, soon falling asleep as well.

[thehusbandoden]

Alpha!Bakugo Katsuki x Female!Omega!Reader Headcannons

A/n: aha I'm alive! Let see how long it lasts this time :P

Besides all the smutty stuff others write (which I don't and won't read), I actually like A/B/O dynamics. I would love it if there was more fluffy goodness (and angst 😋).

Let me know if you want more A/B/O and I will happily deliver <3

Genral info:

Genre: fluff/comfort(??) \\ wc: 653 \\ format: headcannons \\ posted: 03/13/24

Warnings!: A/B/O (alpha, beta, omega) dynamics, extreme jealousy, tsundere in the beginning (it's Bakugo.. what do you expect lol), umm mentions of pregnancy? Mentions of marking (not detailed), mentions of y/n's father/father figure, slightly traditional values, idk what else? Ohhh nvm, Bakugo hurting himself (briefly), brief mention of crying, umm extreme guilt? Pls let me know if I miss any! I don't want to accidentally trigger anyone!! <33

Alpha!Bakugo who said that he would never claim an omega.

Alpha!Bakugo who almost fell apart when he first smelt your sweet scent.

Alpha!Bakugo who would glare at any other alpha who dared look at you.

Alpha!Bakugo who smells like sweet caramel.

Alpha!Bakugo whose sweet caramel scent turned into a nasty scent of burning sugar when he saw another alpha ask you out.

Alpha!Bakugo who basically sprinted to the scene, growling and glaring at the other alpha, pushing himself in-between the two of you.

Alpha!Bakugo who almost threw a punch at the smug man’s face.

Alpha!Bakugo who immediately calmed down when he felt your gentle touch on his shoulder.

Alpha!Bakugo whose scent immediately went back to normal when you cooed at him, telling him it was okay.

Alpha!Bakugo who couldn’t do anything but stare at your gorgeous e/c eyes.

Alpha!Bakugo who fell harder than he thought possible.

Alpha!Bakugo who gave you his hoodies and shirts to use in your nest.

Alpha!Bakugo who “accidentally” bumps into you, spreading his scent on top of yours.

Alpha!Bakugo who left a hand crafted “hunting” knife on your desk –with a note- as a courting gift.

“Protect my girl no matter what, you hear? I would hate to kill anyone in my way to get to you and those scoundrels who I would end up torturing to death.”

Alpha!Bakguo who would do anything for his little omega.

Alpha!Bakugo who beat the group of alphas who made fun of you.

Alpha!Bakugo who gave you his everything before you even became his.

Alpha!Bakugo who purred when you officially accepted his courtship.

Alpha!Bakugo who sweat like crazy when he was meeting your parents.

Alpha!Bakugo who made an amazing impression on your father/father figure.

Alpha!Bakugo who asked permission before officially marking you as is.

Alpha!Bakugo who proudly stared at your bond mark.

Alpha!Bakugo who caressed the mark on your neck fondly, kissing your forehead as a thank you for being his.

Alpha!Bakugo who gave you his entire soul.

Alpha!Bakugo who refused to let either of you leave without drowning in the other’s scent.

Alpha!Bakugo who drowned you in his scent when he got jealous.

Alpha!Bakugo who would growl and pull you to his chest whenever he sees another alpha looking at you for too long.

Alpha!Bakugo who got in several fights over other alphas staring at you and/or commenting on your figure.

Alpha!Bakugo who could and would tear the throat out of anyone who dared touch his omega.

Alpha!Bakugo who purred loudly as he watched you nest for the first time.

Alpha!Bakugo who treated your nest with the utter most respect when you let him in your nest for the first time.

Alpha!Bakugo who purred, scenting you lightly in gratitude as he curled up with you in your newly built nest.

Alpha!Bakugo who gave you his pups, purring proudly as he watched your belly grow.

Alpha!Bakugo who would simply lay with you, caressing your swollen belly as he scents you fondly.

Alpha!Bakugo who grew even more protective when you were pregnant with his pups.

Alpha!Bakugo who went overboard when it came to protecting you.

Alpha!Bakugo who would do anything and everything for you.

Alpha!Bakugo who whimpers and begs for forgiveness when he messes up.

Alpha!Bakugo who punched his own jaw when he saw your beautiful e/c eyes fill with tears.

Alpha!Bakugo who backed away from your tender touch, saying he didn’t deserve your concern as you try to check his jaw for bruising.

Alpha!Bakugo who begged for your forgiveness, tears in his own eyes.

Alpha!Bakugo who grew even more concerned as you sobbed into his chest.

Alpha!Bakugo who comforts you whenever and however you need.

Alpha!Bakugo who fired his omega assistant for looking at him too intimately.

Alpha!Bakugo who would rather die a horrid death than ever even look at another omega the way he looks at you.

Alpha!Bakugo who would truly put his life on the line for you in a heartbeat.

~~~~~

Bakugo's masterlist | Masterlist | Navigation | You can tip me here <3

Reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!

Don't be afraid to request anything at any time. I'm always free to message if you need to vent/talk. <3

~~~~~

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way -minus reblogging.

[thatdeadaquarius]

Topic: Genshin impact.

au: Sagau.

idea: So what if you had the powers of every character you played as in every game you played and then get isekaid into genshin impact with imposter au. I imagine it goes smth like

Zhongli: “I will have order!”

reader, Who played Roblox as someone who lagged the game (explanation: I’m pretty sure ping is also how time works in games. If you can control the flow of ping you can control the flow of time in games.): “ZA WARUDO!”

Heyyy!! Thanks for waiting for the reply/response from my slow ass :0

So they did clarify what they meant/expand so imma just copy paste that here!

“k now I remember. So basically imma write it here since it’s easier: Basically you don’t have to (but you can) transform into the character that has those set of powers but if you do those powers are enhanced.”

Sun: Reader (”you”/they/them)

Orbit: Headcanons-ish, Light Imposter AU (as in, NOT Yandere/Dark), mild crossover elements bc Shapeshifter Shenanigans™️

Stars: bro idek

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: mild cussing, genshin typical mild violence, & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

☆

so fair warning,, ive never seen jojo bizarre, but i appreciate i come off well-read/watched? LMAO

so im just gonna kinda,, guess? like just cycle thru diff. random media, and im hoping both me and you reading this will have a fun time (as this is a little challenge, but i like it so ill give it a shot, dont kno if its a good one but- 😅)

so to set the scene, of how u got to this point, ykno of running like ur life (maybe?) depends on u running around different teyvat countries,

u thought it was weird everyone knew a little too much about you?? (ofc theyve heard u during gaming, they know u the same way we all know Markiplier, get it?)

then a bunch of NPCs/Vision users/Archons?? were REALLY invested in talking to you, which freaked u out even more

and by the time you saw Zhongli, yknow, just the oldest god in game, making a fast-walk towards you, ykno the retired god who didnt move an inch when an old water god attacked Liyue for a test, is now hurrying to you???

ur logically get so fucking scared sm shits abt to go down, u just start running

it isnt until ur reaching for a ledge and some webbing shoots out of ur arm (from a glitchy little spot on ur arm, where it could be coming out of ur skin, but sometimes its a blue and red bracelet)

it latched onto the nearest building, and thats how u find out u can grapple ur way, literally Spiderman style, out of the harbor

and bro, idk if it would be fun, or confusing and stressful, or maybe both?? to just find out u can use any video game power from any game youve played before as you go running from countries bc for some freaky reason they know too much abt you/are pursuing you-

dUDE- they had small statues of you in like every little section of their cities

u head to Mondstadt and as Venti comes screaming and flying at you (in excitement, but ur freaked), u go to hold a hand up and suddenly ur holding a heavy stone tablet that unleashes some holographic yellow chains that freeze him in place-?? why is this familiar-

oh my god u have the sheikah slate from Breath of the Wild,

and as ur booking it out of there, u manage to get ahold of a sword, and u know exactly how to use it to knock back favonius knights trying to stop you (they are concerned for their god who is just unleashing random powers on ppl, pls let Grandmaster Jean just talk to you Your Majesty-!!)

by the time you teleport ur way to Inazuma, (bc u still have this worlds access to ur player/traveler’s powers), ur trying to find a nice place to stay for a little bit

at least in that sweet spot of the Raiden not noticing/finding you, while things cool down on the main continent, before moving on,

and u get some tools to help fashion just a little shelter, bc u dont have any money/mora rn, and ur able to literally build a house???

a mailbox pops up and thanks you for renting with Tom Nook???? As in Animal Crossing-

and rlly if the BOTW/slate thing didnt clue u into video game powers, then this definitely would tbh lmao

right as u see Yae Miko circling ur house, with an armful of books? ..is she planning to thru them at you??, u get the hell out of dodge before her favorite god can follow along

(she knows ur prefrences in books and got authors/trends to start so youd have plenty to read, and she was making sure it was ur house before politely dropping them off! how was she to know thatd spook their favorite God, Ei?!)

u get to Sumeru and think ur safe, hiding in an abandoned forest watcher outpost (1 person treehouse rlly) when Nahida shows up in ur dreams,

and u just,

walk out of the dream, into reality, and possess a nearby ruin guard so u can sleep in peace, bc she cant access a robot,

that one baffled u as you re-possessed ur own body before realizing-

Five Nights at Freddy’s. 💀

U cant do that forever, so u try Fontaine, hoping Neuvillette/Furina wont rlly give af abt you, plus theyre the latest region, so maybe they have the least exposure to whatever the other archons didnt like abt you??

u get there and are immediately summoned to court, and right as the mekas show up to escort you, jfc they have a mecha army

(meanwhile, theyre thinking, yknow. high profile guest/our god of gods. ofc we need state of the art mekas to escort them, its only polite-)

meanwhile ur cape has now become wings, and a mask covers ur face as you glide and fly ur way over the city in an attempt to get to where u assume Snezhnaya is

it doesnt occur to you the game until ur running out of stamnia and catch ur reflection in the waters of fontaine, Sky: Children of the Light

u hope the Tsaritsa’s dislike for other gods/Celestia doesnt extend to ur otherworldly presence so ur just hoping for the best atp tbh

tbh youd forget what all powers you have, and the absolute chaos ur causing urself as u try to desperately rememeber what games youve played thru ur entire life is NOT helping to reduce confusion when u randomly wake up with elf ears (legend of zelda/botw) or get dragged into another ruin machine when u fall asleep/faint/do smth u guess mimics death lmao- (fnaf) 💀

…

(meanwhile the Tsaritsa does get wind ur coming this way, and just, makes the people have a parade/festival to celebrate you coming,

she did also have to get Pierro/Captaino to physically restrain some of them from going ahead to meet/escort you to the palace, she’d heard how the others scared u off, and was, ironically, hoping the warm welcome would clear things up)

☆

well that was, something. 😃🫠

sorry lil car, that was such a fun idea idk if i did it justice!! i thought itd be too op to include every media youve consumed ever, so i kept it to video games, (which, could u cheat the system if youve played smash bros??)

i hope it was at least a decent read, and sorry im half asleep so i was not v funny this time around, but, again, hope u got smth out of it 😭

</3

on another note, im having my wisdom teeth surgery this friday, send whatever u got my way, prayers, blessings, good vibes, ill take anything im nervous 🙃

have a good week guys!

Safe Travels Lil Car,

💀♒

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♡the beloveds♡

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[lea-russo333]

Arsenal x Teen-Reader

hi! this is the first fic that I've ever done so it's probably not going to be the best, but I still hope that some people like it! i will do a pt2 if people enjoy this one 😊

warnings: angst! eating disorders, mentions of throwing up, mentions of body shaming (pls let me know if I've missed anything)

please don't read if any of these things will trigger you.

proofread: sort of

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

2:15am

You had to be up in a few hours for an early morning training session, but here you are on your phone scrolling through the endless rabbit hole of nasty Comments directed towards your appearance, especially your body.

You had only just come back from an ACL injury that had you out from playing and the public eye for nearly a year, and in that year, you had been working hard to regain your strength making your body stockier than you use to be, and people had noticed.

“She looks like a man.”

“that’s not attractive.”

“She looked better before.”

Your eyes started to sting, a few tears slipping out of them. You turned your phone off and turned around, you tried to stifle your sobs not wanting to wake up Beth and Viv who were sleeping in the room next door.

You had been living with Viv ever since you joined arsenal at 16 as she was your national teammate, so it was only reasonable, Viv and Beth had both taken you under their wing becoming a mother figure to you. Now at 19

You took a deep breath and squeezed your eyes shut holding the teddy bear that Katie had giving you for a birthday present, tears were still streaming down your face when sleep found you pulling you into a deep sleep.

Your blaring alarm startled you awake, you looked towards clock feeling as though you had only just shut your eyes.

7:30am

You groaned, you had to be at training in an hour. Waddling your way to the bathroom, you could hear Beth and Viv both talking down the hall; more than likely in the kitchen making coffee and breakfast for all of you. When you reached the bathroom and took a look in the mirror you froze taking in your appearance, your eyes were puffy and red, swollen face and hair disheveled.

“Liefde” Viv's voice echoed through the house “do you want to have breakfast here or at the training ground? I’ve made pancakes for Beth and I if you want some?” you heard her gently knock the door. Panicked, you quickly splashed cold water on your face and patted down your hair, hoping you didn’t look too much of a mess as you did be for.

You heard her knock again.

“Are you okay sweets?” it was Beths voice speaking now.

“yeah” you took a deep breath, opening the door, they both looked at you, taking in your disheveled form, looking at each other with a concerned look.

“Are you sure Liefde? You look like you’ve been crying’’ it was Viv that spoke this time, her hand reaching out to touch your face. You moved away frowning.

“I'm fine I was just watching some sad videos last night” you brushed both the girls off, giving the two women a half-asked excuse. You heard Beth laugh under her breath, putting her arm on your shoulder.

“Now why would you do that to yourself love” she laughed while patting your back, both girls seeming to believe your lie. “Now how are you feeling about pancakes?” the older women asked whilst dragging you and Viv to the kitchen. You stomach turned and you pulled your hand back shaking your head.

“I'm alright thanks, I think I'm just gonna have breakfast when we get there” you said whilst slowly making your way back into your room to get ready for training.

-

The car ride to training was fast and you quickly got your training gear out of the car before thanking the two older women and heading for the change rooms. Viv and Beth watch you walk away from them with worried looks on their faces.

“I'm worried about her” Beth turned her head towards Viv.

“I know, so am I” Viv spoke while putting a comforting hand on her girlfriends should, the two heading into the training facility.

-

When you got in the change room, only a few girls where in there, Steph, Manu and Katie. You quickly said hello before rushing towards the showers, not wanting to change in front of them.  You had been changing in the showers for the past few weeks, knowing that if you changed in front of everyone that they'd see how much weight you’ve lost in a short amount of time, and you’d be caught. You waited in the showers until you heard the girls leave for breakfast. You let out a shaky breath that you hadn't realized Youd been holding and sild out of the change rooms and making a bee line for the gym; wanting to get in some extra exercise before practice started. You knew everyone would be at breakfast, so you weren't fussed with anyone catching you. What you hadn't anticipated though, was for your skipper Leah to be in the gym as well. you would never admit it out loud, but Leah intimated you. She was a good captain, hardworking and stern, she always tells it how it is and wasn’t afraid to call someone out when they were acting out or not putting in the effort.

As soon as you entered, she turned to look at you, eyes scrunching in confusion. You mumbled a quick apology and went to leave when she spoke up.

“You alright y/n? why aren't you at breakfast?” she was walking towards you.

“I'm sorry I didn’t realize anyone one was in here, I just wanted to get some extra time in before training” you said rather quickly, eyes looking anywhere but at her.

“Why would you need to do that when we already have an hour gym session today?” her eyebrows still furrowed “you didn’t tell me why you aren't at breakfast” her tone was stern and unwavering as she kept her hard gaze on you.

“I ate breakfast at home” you told her “Viv made pancakes” she looked you up and down almost scanning your body before her gaze turned back to your face her eyebrow rising slightly as if telling you she didn’t really believe you. She looked away as you gulped. That was another thing about Leah, she always seemed to know when you were lying to her, and right now didn’t seem to be an exception.

“Right well trainings about to start anyway” she said while turning your body in the direction of the door “lets head out to the field” she pushed you forward, a silent way to tell you to lead the way. You rolled your eyes and shook your head, speeding up your movement so you didn’t have to walk with her.

As training progressed you could feel your body getting tired, you hadn't eaten anything this morning and thrown up your dinner from last night. You knew it was bad, but you couldn’t stop…it was an addicting feeling.

By the time lunch time had rolled around and training was finished for the day, you were absolutely exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go home and curl up in your bed and sleep. Your body was sore, and You hobbled slowly towards the changing room, your breathing was uneven, and your head was pounding.

You were the last to make it to the changing rooms, you could her Alessia and Katie making dinner plans for tonight and was asking people if they'd be able to make it. You mentally rolled your eyes as Beth excitedly said that you three would be attending.

“Hey, you alright mate?” you groaned at the question, having heard it one to many times that day for your liking. You turned to see Caitlyn behind you.

“Yes, I'm fine” you huffed out, slowly growing agitated.

“Are you sur- “you cut her off before she could finish.

“Yes, I'm fine! I’ve already said it about a thousand times” you huffed grabbing your stuff and storming out of the room, not even bothering to change, leaving behind shocked Caitlin and confused teammates.

“I’ll go talk to her” Beth muttered after a few minutes of awkward silence. She grabbed her training kit, as did Viv, and walked out of the room. They looked in countless empty rooms before heading to the car park where they found you waiting by the car scrolling on your phone once again, they had noticed you had been doing that a lot recently.

As soon as you heard the car door click, you jumped inside, not wanting to have the conversation you knew was about to take place. Both Beth and Viv entered soon after having a short conversation outside. No one said anything throughout the drive home, the two women sharing glances with each other every now and then while you opted to stay on your phone, scrolling through your Instagram comments.

When the three of you got home you headed straight for your room, closing the door behind you. Both the women sighed as they watched you. They had both noticed a change in you, they had noticed how you went straight to the bathroom after dinner, telling them you needed to “shower”, they had believed you at first until Beth had overheard you vomit in the bathroom 2 nights in a row. They had noticed that you weren't eating the snacks you love anymore or that you weren't eating breakfast in the mornings with them anymore, they had also noticed the mass amount of weight you had lost in such a little span of time. Of course, they had noticed it, practically the whole team had noticed it, with some voice their worries for you every now and then.

“She needs help” Beth stated as she stared at your bedroom door.

“Yeah…I know.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thank you for reading!! pls write some feedback if you have any :)

and if people are interested then I will do a pt2 💕

[strongheartneteyam]

[ credits of the Neteyam pic go to cinetrix ]

Champagne Problems

Part 7

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x female!human!reader

CW: loads of angst, sexual tension, reader apologizes to Neteyam, fluff, Neteyam yearning for reader, physical contact between Neteyam and reader, some humor in Kiri's and Neteyam's interactions, Neteyam and reader miss each other, wounded Neteyam, reader's strong romantic feelings towards Neteyam, jealous reader, Neteyam talks to reader about the na'vi spirituality, reader is slowly starting to trust Neteyam, TRIGGER WARNING for mentions of a deceased family member and reader's feelings about their absence in her life, Neteyam comforting reader. Tell me if there's more, pls.

Again writing in the am... That's one of the only periods of the day I actually have some peace and quiet, so… 🤷🏻‍♀️ what can I say? Your girl does what she can. lol hope y'all enjoy this. Comments would be very appreciated 🤍 ps: there's just so much angst in this damn fanfic that I can never write it without getting emotionally destroyed 🥲 send help

Slightly proofread. There might be some mistakes along the way. I can't do more than that now bc it's past 5 am, I still didn't get any sleep and I'm dying 💀💩 love y'all ❤ bye I'm gonna try to sleep now

Part 6: I tried to hide but I still believe

𓇼

So many questions but I don't ask why

Maybe someday but not tonight

Hush hush, now

Don't you ever say a word of what you ever thought you heard

Don't you ever tell a soul but you know

I tried to hide but I still believe that we were always meant to be

And I can never let you go

No

Hush Hush (Avril Lavigne)

𓇼

You weren't quite sure what to do now. Your heart was pounding as nervousness covered you and there was an ache, a burn inside your chest.

You decided to close your eyes again and pretend to be asleep. You didn't know if Neteyam had noticed you there or not but you were praying he hadn't.

"Brother? Why are you back early?" Kiri questioned as she held a wooden green bead between her index finger and her thumb. All Kiri could think about was "Oh, Great Mother, this is gonna get really awkward really soon."

"Hi to you too!" Neteyam joked and Kiri rolled her eyes at him "I got bitten by an animal. No big deal, though." He tried to calm his sister down when he noticed the concern in her features "But as it was in my arm, I couldn't really go hunting with my friends for at least two days because it's swollen, so… I'm back early. There's no fun in being there for longer if I can't join the hunting competitions with the boys." Neteyam laughed it off but the bite was still hurting in a pungent way that bothered him a lot.

Kiri laughed "Yeah, I see. And I bet grandma was healing you with those herbs that make the wounds burn even more that you hate so much and you couldn't wait to get on your Ikran and fly back here, right?"

Neteyam frowned but he was chuckling too.

"Yeah, you got me." He scratched his head. It was a habit of his. "By the way, can you help me out with the bite, sister?" He asked

Kiri sighed in disappointment "Why didn't you send for Ronal? I'm kinda busy here." She signaled with her head towards her hands that were holding her necklace

"I don't wanna disturb her sleep. She might try to drown me." Both siblings started to laugh "Plus, you're a great healer." Neteyam defended himself and stroked his younger sister's ego

Kiri let out a grunt.

"Ok, then. Sit down and I'll help you."

"Thanks, teylu." He teased

Calling each other "teylu" was Neteyam's and Kiri's favorite way to insult one another. You know, it's a sibling's thing.

"You're the teylu here!" Kiri snapped back but in a playful way "Bothering me in the middle of the eclipse… did you know I have guests? Be quiet, they're asleep." Kiri said in a hushed, low tone as she gathered the medicinal plants she kept in her marui and the water she needed to mush together to make a healing substance and apply on Neteyam's wound

"Who are you talking about?" He chuckled "Is Tsireya and some other friend of yours spending the night here?"

As soon as Neteyam heard your name come out of Kiri's lips, his mouth got dry and he felt his heart skip a beat. Neteyam gritted his teeth, his jaw tensing up. He couldn't believe you were there. He couldn't believe he was gonna see your face again. Neteyam had started to wonder if maybe you had found a way to not come back to his tribe because of your job ever again after your team started to show up there without you multiple times. He didn't know if he should be sad or happy that you were there in his sister's home. To tell the truth, there was a mix of both emotions moving in an agonizing little dance inside his chest. He missed you like crazy and he had been dying to see you again but he knew that as soon as he looked at you again and saw your small frame and smelled your unique scent, he would find it utterly hard to resist taking you in his arms and kissing you. Yes, Neteyam was still hurting a whole lot and he was still a bit angry at you, but, Eywa… he felt like a piece of him was missing ever since you left. The yearning to feel you against his body again was bigger than the wound in his ego. So, Neteyam had to make a big effort to keep himself together and not run to the tiny but hugely beautiful girl he now recognized as being you, sleeping in one of the mats on the floor of his sister's marui. 

Neteyam had no idea you were actually awake and listening to the conversation he had been having for some minutes now with Kiri.

𓇼

Kiri had now taken care of Neteyam's wound. It was on his biceps.

"Damn, it must have hurt a lot… Poor him…" You thought.

You breathed in deeply and breathed out, trying to gather courage to do the next thing. You got up from your mat, your legs carefully avoiding Adeline and Kate, as their bodies were lying right next to where you were lying before. 

You walked towards where Neteyam and Kiri were. She was finishing putting away the healing materials in a straw basket while squatting. 

"Hi." You sheepishly greeted Neteyam "Can I talk to you for a sec?"

His feline yellow eyes lingered on you for a second, like he was trying to find a way to respond, but it was difficult to do so.

"Sure." It was all he could say

Kiri gazed rapidly at the both of you "I'm gonna give you guys some privacy." She could feel what you guys were gonna talk about. 

All of you were keeping your voices down so your conversation wouldn't wake the girls up.

Kiri quickly got out of her marui, leaving you and Neteyam "alone" (Technically, Kate and Adeline were there too, even if they were asleep, nothing could guarantee that they wouldn't wake up).

You sat down next to him on the floor, feeling awkward and guilty.

"I'm sorry I was rude to you that morning after the party. I didn't mean to be. I didn't mean to… I don't know, to be so blunt, to be so… cruel when turning you down. I really am sorry. I understand if you're mad at me. I deserve it." 

"I wasn't mad, I was… hurt." Neteyam admitted 

"You were a little mad." You insist with an awkward smile

"Yeah, my pride was hurt. As I said, at the end of the day, it wasn't anger, it was pain." There really was pain in his face, even now

Damn, now you felt even worse…

"But we can just forget about it. It's in the past now. I accept your apology." Neteyam smiled to hide the part of him that was still screaming at him to ask you once again to be his mate. Maybe this time you'd say "yes"... Damn, who was he kidding? He knew it was just stupid wishful thinking.

"Thanks for being so nice to me even after I was such a jerk to you… You didn't have to forgive me, you know." You gave him a sad smile

"Of course I have to. You deserve it. You deserve so much more." He smiled back, sheepishly 

You sighed internally. Why did he have to always be so nice? That only made your heart hurt more and more for rejecting him that morning after the beach party. But it was for the best. It's better if you and Neteyam share nothing but a friendship. You would never wish to taint him with all the turmoil of negative emotions and traumas you carry around wherever you go.

"So… Can we… be friends?" You asked, fearing the answer that was coming

"Of course, tawtute." Neteyam confirmed as he smiled kindly at you "I'd love to have you as my friend."

A few seconds of some awkward silence later, you tried breaking the ice.

"So… I saw you talking to Munì. How's she doing?" The words left your lips before you realized it, leaving a sour taste in your mouth.

Way to go, (y/n)! Worst possible way ever to break the ice!

Neteyam's hairless eyebrows frowned. 

"I don't know. I haven't talked to her since that morning."

"Really?" There was way more anger slipping out of you than you had anticipated. "I saw the way you two were smiling at each other. You really did not talk to her after that morning?" Why were you questioning him like that? Jesus…

God, you didn't even have the right to be angry! Neteyam wasn't your boyfriend or anything like that. But still, jealousy was eating your insides.

Neteyam laughed at the question, realizing you seemed jealous and bitter about it. But it seemed too good to be true. Did he really still have a chance to win your heart? Eywa knows he would never give up on trying to get you if he knew he had even the slightest of chances with you.

"Tawtute, I was just talking to her. You have to stop assuming things about people!" He smiled at you showing no teeth while shaking his head from side to side, showing you how silly your bad habit was "Actually, I was trying to be nice to her to not break her heart too much because yes, she was flirting with me but I wasn't interested."

You felt blood run to your cheeks.

"But you guys seemed so happy…"

"I was just being nice to her." Neteyam reinforced "I promise. Do you trust me?" He asked gently 

Unfortunately, the first instinct that came to your head was "Don't believe him. He's lying to you. You saw what you saw." but this time you were able to actually think a little more, be a little more rational and wonder "What did I actually see? Neteyam was really just talking to Munì. I didn't see him touching her or kissing her or anything. OK, she was smiling and clearly flirting with him, but that doesn't matter. Just because she was trying to charm him, it doesn't mean he was being charmed by her. All I saw was him treating her nicely and smiling at her and Neteyam is usually nice to everyone. He's right… I should trust more freely."

You looked at Neteyam and breathed deep.

"I do." You gave him a coy smile and he smiled back, this time revealing his big sharp fangs to you as his lips parted.

Damn, why was he so freaking hot? Ugh!

𓇼

After some time spent talking to each other, Neteyam took something out of a small dark brown pouch bag.

"I made this for Tuk" Neteyam said, holding an oblong piece of wood with an image of a Viperwolf (or a Nantang, in na'vi) carved in it. "She loves Nantangs."

"It's beautiful. You're talented." You smiled at him

"Thanks." Neteyam smiled back, his golden eyes squinting slightly at you 

The gift Neteyam had made for Tuk reminded you of the gifts you and Tracy would give each other. You used to make colorful bead bracelets and give them to her. She would get so happy and smile widely at you. Your heart would feel warm. After she grew up a bit and wasn't a small toddler anymore, she started to make you some and give them to you too. It became a sisterly tradition for the both of you.

God, how you missed her… Your chest started to hurt and a lump was now in your throat, making it harder to breathe.

Neteyam noticed.

"Are you OK?" He asked, concern all over his beautiful features 

You started telling Neteyam how your little sister had died in the car accident. You finally let your defenses down to the point that now you felt comfortable to tell him not just that but also how you felt agonizingly alone and lost after her passing, as you both had a strong, pure bond. Tracy used to be your best friend.

"I loved being her big sister, giving her advice and taking care of her. I miss all the nights we would stay up eating candy and watching stupid teenage movies because she loved them so much." You reminisced through tears

Neteyam related deeply to you, on how it felt good to be the older sibling. All he could do was thank Eywa that he still had all his siblings alive, safe and sound. Thinking about losing little Tuk, Lo'ak or Kiri like you lost Tracy made his chest hurt profusely. He could only imagine your pain. He knew he could never actually know how much it must have broken you in pieces to see your little sister for the last time, paler, no longer breathing, but he felt so, so much empathy towards you.

All Neteyam wanted to do was hold you tight and make all your pain go away. He knew he couldn't get rid of all your sorrows but he would surely make his biggest effort to fight away all the demons he would be able to. 

"Eywa, (y/n)... I'm so, so sorry about that. I can only imagine how much you must miss her. I know I would if I lost any of my siblings…" Just the thought of that made his chest hurt a little bit "You know, my people have a saying about death: All energy is only borrowed, and one day you have to give it back. I don't know if it gives you any comfort but I think it's a good way to view the passing. It's not the end. Your sister's body helped plants grow on the ground she was buried in, did you know that? A part of her still lives inside the leaves or the flowers or the grass there. I'm assuming Earth's ground works like Pandora's ground does." He chuckled slightly, trying not to seem disrespectful 

"Neteyam, that's actually… really comforting. And beautiful. Thank you so much." You smiled at him and felt an urge to touch his hand to show him your gratitude but you thought it was better not to do it.

Eventually you fell asleep, back against the marui's wall. Neteyam carried you to your mat in his arms, carefully, just so he wouldn't wake you up, even though you seemed to be in deep sleep. He softly laid you down on your mat and felt the urge to kiss you goodnight but he knew he couldn't. And it broke his heart not to do it because he loved you with all his body and soul.

Neteyam quickly left Kiri's marui and headed to his family's home, trying hard to forget your beautiful sleeping face all the way until he got there, trying hard to forget your unique and addictive scent, the way your lips felt just like the inside of a rose when you both had kissed, the way it felt to mate with you and feel your soft human skin against his… It didn't matter how much he tried, he would never be able to forget you. Your name was tattooed on his heart.

𓇼

Taglist:

@iman-lu

@leaveitbythewave

@creepytoes88

@live-laugh-neteyam

@swaggygurlbae

@neteluvr

@layla2-49

@a-blog-name-2003

@lala-1516

@jakesullyfatjuicypeen

@yeosxxx

@iaratezaewa

[writemywaytoyourheart]

Bedeviled | FINAL- Chapter 15a: alea iacta est

Pairing: demon!jungkook x female reader

Genre: romance, drama, angst, horror

WC for PART 1: 13.6k

This is a two part chapter guys, dont miss 15b, it will be linked at the end of this chapter.

Warnings for this part: ⚠️this chapter contains intense, heavy & possibly triggering material, pls read at your own discretion⚠️ strong language, blood, torture, grief, mentions of death, brief mention of past murder, strong religious themes throughout, mentions of witchcraft, implied human sacrifice, summoning of and dealing with demons, ANGST, physical violence, guilt, heavy heavy stuff u guys b careful, if there's anything I missed pls kindly let me know.

ML Previous

“Guardian angel…what’s happened?”

The look in her eyes was gentle even though the worry was clear. 

“I will tell you soon, I promise. Trust in me that now is not the time.”

A slender hand gestured towards the giant golden gates, a reminder of what was to come. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat, an understanding and comfort sweeping through you that the time would arrive to know everything. You looked up at the shining entrance and noticed beautiful gems lining the golden bars in every color imaginable. 

It was stunning. 

Your angel reached out a hand and ever so gently touched the sleek bars; sending a shudder through the entirety of the gate that simultaneously went through you, deep into your bones. 

You didn’t notice you were holding your breath until the gate opened and there was a soft yet steady hand on your shoulder.

Taking a tentative step forward, you gulped as the cloud beneath you kept you from plummeting through it.

A few more steps and you were almost inside. 

Closing your eyes, you took in a deep breath that filled your lungs. As it blew out slowly, you could feel any and every worry leaving with it as the sound of a celestial choir arose and an overwhelming feeling of love consumed you.

Then you stepped through the gates. 

-

The grip on your upper arms is harsh as you’re dragged carelessly down the last few steps. The sound of tortured screams echo around you, bouncing off the walls and shaking you to the core. 

Then the smell hits you.

A smell so vile you would never be able to put it into words if someone asked. It turns your stomach to rot within seconds, but it’s too late to hold your breath now. 

I’m okay. 

You shake uncontrollably as the demons proceed to half carry you down a long hall, the sound of their footsteps drowned out by the screams of the sinners whose fate you are soon about to share in. 

At least it isn’t him.

You gulp and close your eyes despite it already being pitch black; the action only a desperate attempt to conjure some form of comfort. 

You flinch when the loud clank of metal reaches your ears. 

It sounds like someone is unlocking a very large padlock. 

Then an ear piercing squeak follows when what you can only assume is a cell door is opened.

You’re brought into the cell and immediately thrown to the ground harshly, a pained gasp knocked out of you when you hit the stone floor. 

There’s a puddle of something wet and warm under your hands and the stench of urine instantly fills your nostrils. You don’t even have a moment to register the disgust before you’re being grabbed roughly again and yanked to the middle of the room. 

The unmistakable sound of jangling chains fills your ears and you bite your bottom lip. Your eyes slowly begin to adjust to the darkness due to the sliver of blood red light seeping in through a crack near the upper right corner behind you. 

You can just barely make out what is probably Sav in front of you, but more of that comes from the energy you feel and less the sight of him. 

A deep chuckle sounding directly ahead confirms it as your arms are yanked up so violently that you inadvertently cry out. The demons only continue to laugh as one on each side of you shackles your wrists to the rusted cuffs hanging from the ceiling. 

You realize with horror only seconds before it happens that the chains are a certain height, designed like everything else here; to wring the most torture they can out of you. 

A broken scream gets stuck in your throat when the demons let go of you and your body weight is forced down by gravity, pulling at your shoulders harshly. Only a bit of pressure is taken off by your feet holding you up just enough on tiptoe. You know that eventually your shoulders will not be able to handle it, when you are no longer strong enough to stand. They will inevitably be pulled out of place.

Breathing in and out slowly in shaky gasps, you don’t even try to fight as your ankles are shackled as well, even though you won’t be going anywhere with even just the wrists bound in iron. 

The sound of another set of chains makes you close your eyes. 

Flinching harshly, you bite your lip when you feel your wings squeezed painfully by cold metal restraints of their own.

Fear clenches your heart as you wait with bated breath. 

“Leave us.”

Heavy footfalls go to the cell door, the loud creak sounds, then the footsteps diminish into the torture being dealt elsewhere in the dungeon. 

You say nothing, feeling his stare on you while you keep your eyes closed. 

“I’m going to ask questions and you are going to answer, do you understand?”

He’s met with silence, but chooses to ignore that and begins anyway. 

“Why are you here?” 

When you don’t answer, he steps forward and growls.

“Do you want me to fucking hurt you right now, you little bitch? Answer me.”

You open your eyes and stare at the dark floor, but say nothing. 

“Answer me or when the time comes I’ll hurt him more than I need to.”

A beat of silence passes.

“I came to get something,” you grit out, tears stinging your eyes.

Sav chuckles in disbelief. 

“How strange you are, little puppet. You say nothing when your own precious body is on the line, but when it comes to a random demon you found in Hell, you will give it all up.”

You sigh shakily, knowing that he can do whatever he wants to you and still get you to talk when he threatens to hurt a certain fellow demon of his.

“Oh this is going to be fun.”

His heeled boots clunk against the floor as he begins to pace, smirking at your defeated posture. 

“What did you come to get?”

You gulp, noticing how dry your throat is. 

“Something I’ve waited a long time for.”

“The Flame of Immortality?”

You’re not sure how he found out that little made-up story, but you don’t ask. 

He sighs through his nose in annoyance at your silence. 

“Why should an angel need the Flame? You’re already immortal. Besides, don’t you holy creatures frown at the use of it?”

“I didn’t tell you I needed it,” you whisper. 

“A little birdie told me you did.”

“Maybe you should stop taking information from random little birdies-”

A harsh slap lands across your cheek and you instantly taste blood as your head hangs to the side and you squeeze your eyes shut tightly to try and control the urge to make a sound. 

You don’t want to give him that satisfaction. 

“You’re going to regret not taking my offer to let you speak and delay your punishment.”

He grabs your face, pinching your cheeks tightly and making you look at him. 

Oddly enough, you can see his blue eyes in the dim light, his hair falling into them.

“If pain is what you want, rest assured that is what I will give you.”

You glare back at him in response, earning another slap to your other cheek. 

Sav steps back and observes you. 

“You look a little too confident as an angel at the hands of demons that are only too willing to hurt her.”

You just stare at him, hands chained above your head and shoulders aching terribly. 

“Your smug silence will only cause you more agony.”

He gets no response. 

The demon turns and walks to a corner of the cell, a dark alcove where you can not see what is inside. 

“Fine by me, little angel.”

You expect him to emerge with something, so you’re taken by surprise when he only comes back out, empty handed, to lean against the wall. 

“Undidis.” His voice rings out in the dim light.

Then the iron cell door opens and the large lizard-like demon that grabbed you in the hall stalks in, a grotesque smile spread across his toothy snout.

You don’t have a moment to think before he hits you across the face so hard that your vision spins violently and a headache blossoms. A few of your teeth feel like they were loosened by the impact. You breathe out a pained groan. 

The demon hits you in the stomach, then kicks your right shin harshly out from under you, undoubtedly leaving a mark that will bruise if he didn’t fracture it outright. 

The weight of your beaten body pulls down on your shoulders and you cry out. 

“Alright, that’s enough.”

Undidis steps away and sneers, “Look at her. She’s like a little doll we get to ruin all we want.”

Sav chuckles at his words. 

“And she can stop it any time she would like. Are you ready to stop, angel?”

You gulp, cringing at the metallic taste in your mouth, then you shake your head slowly. 

He scoffs and goes back to the alcove, disappearing into the darkness. 

____. 

Tears form in your eyes at the sound of her voice in your mind. 

Angel…I’m sorry that I didn’t listen to you…I’m sorry I failed.

Sav steps out and you see something long and thin hanging from his hand. 

____, you have not failed. Do not let them make you believe otherwise.

“Still feeling brave?” Sav mocks, running the whip between his fingers repeatedly, his eyes moving over your form hungrily; ready to draw screams from you with each crack of it. 

You are sure you want to do this? Only say the word and it will stop. 

You pull your gaze away from Sav and up to the ceiling of the cell. Up to where you might be able to imagine all of them if you think hard enough. 

The words that leave your mouth are sure to send him into a fit, but it doesn’t stop you from saying them.

“I’m okay, Guardian Angel.”

Sav’s face falls, then it twists in anger as he steps closer to you, “We’ll just see where that bravery gets you.”

You can see the hatred in his eyes before he walks behind you and is out of your line of sight. 

You shut your eyes only moments before the whip makes contact with your back and rips the first scream from your lungs. 

________________________

“Find your own way out of Hell.”

The look of terror and disbelief in your eyes did nothing to stop him from turning; from leaving you alone and never looking back.

-

JK keeps his eyes forward as he stalks across the empty planes between the eighth and ninth circles of Hell, his jaw taut with barely contained rage. 

He has no intention of going back to you, or even turning around to see if perhaps his eyes betrayed him in a moment of insanity. 

Of all the things he theorized about you in his head, you being one of those sorry pawns from His pathetic army was never even close to being one…

When the golden light bouncing off the vibrant green leaves flashes through his brain again, the demon shakes his head and keeps walking. 

You must have poisoned his thoughts in some way- with all your nasty little angel abilities to put images in minds. That must have been part of your plan the entire time: to confuse him, to disorient him enough so that you could do whatever the hell it was you were here to do in the first place. 

The silent anger continues to build inside, leaving no room to wonder or even care about where you might be. 

_________________

The broken scream from the last lash of the whip leaves your throat raw as you gasp in a breath. You had held them in as much as you could, but the pain after the first fifteen lashes was too much. You had no idea how many more he had done since.

Sav runs his fingers down the length of the thin instrument, dragging the blood off of it to drip onto the floor in red splatters. 

“Why him?” He asks lowly, voice deep with impatience. 

Your shaky breaths echo off the stone walls. 

Sav grabs your chin with rough fingers, forcing you to lift your head and look at him, the smirk on his face growing at the way you squeeze your eyes shut with pain, the blood from his fingers smearing onto your skin. 

“Why…” He leans close, his cold breath fanning your wet cheeks, “...him?”

You swallow thickly before whispering, unable to keep the strength in your voice no matter how hard you try, “I only asked him to lead me becau-”

A shaky breath gets caught in your throat and you cough a little. 

“-because he was the first one I ran into.”

The grip on your face tightens for a second before the demon shoves you away and takes a step back to observe his prisoner. 

“Do not make the mistake of feeling secure in telling me the truth. It will not spare you any pain.”

You open your eyes and look at him. 

“I know.”

His jaw clenches, then a smirk slowly spreads on his face again. 

“How unlucky for you that he was merely a pawn in your little game. If there was more to tell on JK, I might have decided to prolong the fun in order to wring more out of you.”

His words neither lessen nor heighten your anxiety. You know he is going to torture you without restraint, you have known since the moment you were grabbed in the tunnel while trying to get away. He does not need any more information from you; that is not why you are in this dungeon under the Chamber of Souls. You are merely here for their twisted sport. 

Finding an angel in the middle of Hell is a prize beyond the count of worth. 

Without turning, Sav drops the whip on the floor and points at the alcove. 

The demon, Undidis, that has been standing silent to the side for the entirety of the whipping instantly walks that way and disappears into the darkness. 

The sound of metal clanging around from where he went reaches your ears, but you do not move your gaze from Sav’s. 

“The monarch butterfly on your arm,” you whisper, voice hoarse, “Why is it colored?”

He snorts, “Why would I feel the need to divulge any information about myself to you? You are already at my feet, you are already mine to break.”

“Do you not know?”

His gaze hardens as he stares at you with a raw hatred after seeing the unwavering look in your gaze. 

The look in his own eyes confirms what you already know: that he will not give you a moment of relief once he begins.

There is no reason for either of them to hold back. 

You take a steadying breath and close your eyes slowly.

-

Stepping through the gates, your eyes landed immediately on your aunt. 

Yoongi’s mother, who died many years ago. 

Her skin seemed to radiate a very subtle glow as she smiled at you warmly. There were no wings on her back and she was clothed in a soft white tunic that fell to her ankles. She looked young and healthy, her eyes resembling Yoongi’s almost exactly. 

You smiled back, then your gaze shifted to see the man stepping out from behind her who wasn’t an angel either.

It was your father. 

You had never met him, but there was something inside of you that just knew. For some odd reason you also knew what had happened to him, why he left one day before you were even born and never came back. 

You thought maybe he had been sick like you or just abandoned you and mother. It never occurred to you that he was killed on the road and never found. Your heart hurt terribly at this revelation.

His lips…they looked like yours. Your hair color was the same too. He also looked somewhat like Yoongi’s mother, the shared genes were clear. 

You briefly remembered the days leading up to your death, when you hallucinated a man in the corner of the shack, staring at you. You had thought it was your father, but it wasn’t, he didn’t look like this man. This man’s eyes were kind, his touch comforting as he gave you a quick hug and whispered how happy he was to finally meet you. 

You hugged him back tightly, a breath stuck in your throat, your mind still in a state of disbelief. 

He pulled away then and stepped back, no longer obscuring your view of the beings behind him.

Many many people and angels, some laughing and talking, others smiling and waving at you excitedly. 

You didn’t recognize any of them, but they seemed to know you. 

They seemed to have known you for a long time. 

Realization hit you then, that every single person and angel there, had been waiting for you. 

The air itself was alive with relief and genuine unconditional love. 

These souls that you did not know, were overjoyed at your arrival. 

They were proud of you. 

Tears filled your eyes, only a few escaping and falling down your cheeks. 

Then you saw her. 

The little angel with yellow wings, that had taken your hand and led you to the clouds after you passed. 

She was standing in front of another angel that looked no older than fourteen. The young teen had long red hair and wings the color of soil. A bright smile graced her pink lips.

The small yellow angel that you had not recognized when first waking in that shack, had tears in her eyes as she looked at you. Those bunny teeth appeared when she smiled even while the tears fell down her supple cheeks.

“The little ones that pass in the womb become angels.”

She looked just like him.

“Aera?”

The name fell from your lips in a breathless whisper. 

Not another moment passed before you were kneeling and the child was running into your open arms, soon engulfed in your embrace. 

Her tiny arms wrapped around you and she held on tightly. 

You couldn’t help the tears that wracked your body as you kept her close, finally feeling that warmth you always dreamt of. 

“I love you,” you whispered the words you always wanted to say between sobs, “I love you so much, I missed you so much.”

Her hug only tightened and she whispered back with that tiny soft voice you could only ever imagine in those long long months, “I missed you too, mommy. I love you.”

You continued to cry on her small shoulder until your tears were utterly spent and you could finally breathe in fully without breaking into another round of weeping. 

Only then did you open your eyes and see someone behind her; your gaze traveling from their sandaled feet, up their long beige tunic, and into gentle brown eyes flecked with gold.

Only then did you first look upon the face of the one you never knew you had missed.

-

Your whole body is quivering uncontrollably, blood drips down your arms and legs, and your shoulders only continue to weaken as the strain on them increases with each new torment they bring upon you. 

“Not the face.”

Sav’s deep voice breaks through the fog of pain clouding your mind. 

Undidis grunts in annoyance but steps back anyway, the bloody knife gripped in his scaly fist tightly as he resists the urge to mutilate the only part of you that has been left more or less unscathed. 

You can faintly hear both of them laughing as they walk around you, behaving like two humans that have stumbled across a most intriguing statue in the museum. 

No words pass your lips, only the labored breathing that occasionally becomes so quiet that if they didn’t know any better they’d have thought you suffocated from the lack of oxygen getting to your lungs. 

“Such a precious little face, angel. I can’t bring myself to cut it up just yet,” Sav muses with mock pity. 

At your lack of response, you get a kick to the same right shin Undidis had struck earlier. 

All you give for that is a weak moan. 

Sav steps towards you and leans down, his voice becoming soft, “This is only the beginning. You can change your fate, all you have to do is one simple thing.”

The fog in your brain covers most of your thoughts in an attempt to pretend like you are anywhere but here. 

Slowly, you shake your head.

“Do nothing and we get to play with you for the rest of eternity. Who needs Him anyway? If you give in to us, the pain He has let be inflicted upon you will lessen.”

Your eyes flutter open at his words and you lift your head only enough to look him in the eye. 

“And when my memories are no longer my own,” you mumble quietly, “When I can no longer understand why it hurts…what will happen to me then?”

Sav straightens up, his mouth twisting in rage. 

“Will I become like you?” You whisper hoarsely, never looking away from him. 

A harsh slap from the back of his hand causes your head to jerk to the side and blood to spray from your mouth and onto the floor, to continue to stain the ancient stone with the life of its current victim.

“You dare to look down on me while I stand above you?” He seethes, “You refuse to acknowledge who is in control?”

“You are not in control.” Is all you say, eyes lifting to the ceiling briefly. 

“Is that so?”

A choked gasp gets stuck in your throat when you feel jagged metal sink deep into your abdomen. 

Sav pulls the knife back out and lifts it into your view as you gulp and try to control the shivering from sheer pain alone.

Your blood drips down the length of the crooked blade, only inches from your face.

“I think we’ve just run out of time for you. That little face of yours has only begun to anger me.” 

Your gaze drifts from the crimson knife and over to his dark blue eyes. 

“Your story saddens me, Sav. But it is not you I grieve for.”

There’s a flash of fear deep in his gaze, but it’s quickly clouded once more with hatred. 

“You may know things I do not, angel, but I can assure you of this,” he looms over you, only too ready to ruin you beyond recognition, “If you do not deny Him, if you do not lower yourself more than you already are and bow to me; I will rid you of any physical indication of your title. I will tear you limb from limb and you will feel every single second of it.”

A smile spreads on your cracked lips, bright red blood oozing from your mouth. 

“Lower yourself to me.” Despite his words, his voice shakes slightly.

The grin on your face does not fade, even as Undidis emerges from the shadows with the next instrument of torture that will leave you in agony beyond comprehension. 

You keep your eyes locked on Sav. 

“No.”

____________________________________

“Look, Savanis!”

The twenty-year old boy looked up from where he was digging and reached a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow. He pushed the dirty blonde hair out of his suntanned face so he could see the little girl a few feet to his left. 

“What is it, Marjorie?”

The child frowned at his tone, but quickly brushed it off and pointed at the little flower only inches from her where a beautiful orange and black butterfly sat. 

“Isn’t it pretty?” She whispered, leaning in. Long blonde locks fell over her tiny shoulders, the curled ends brushing against the dirt, “I think it’s the most beautiful I have ever seen.”

Savanis rolled his eyes and turned back to the digging that was taking longer than he liked. It wasn’t supposed to be one of the jobs that consumed his entire day. And for this he would only get enough for half a loaf of bread at the market. 

The shovel struck the hot dirt viciously, tearing into it and wrenching it from the earth.

-

“Savi.”

He rolled his eyes at the hundredth interruption that evening alone. 

“What?”

“I’m hungry.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” He raised his voice, slamming down the small piece of wood he had been carving mindlessly, the sound echoing off the wooden walls of their tiny home. 

Tears welled up in the six year old’s big bluebell eyes and he sighed sharply. 

“It isn’t my fault the king treats us like scum, Marjorie! What would you have me do? Beg at his feet to let us feast with the royal court? Don’t be so naive. If you’re so hungry then go out and find a way to get us food. Just because mother and father died and left you to burden me doesn’t mean you can’t make yourself useful for once.”

With that, he stood and grabbed the crookedly carved wood, then stormed out of the house, leaving his little sister to self-soothe in her torn blanket, holding her worn out doll friend close to her chest. 

-

It wasn’t even a month’s passing since that night that Savanis stumbled upon the old witch that lived in the woods, the one he had only previously heard tales of. 

She was odd enough to deserve the rumors said about her, but she by no means looked to him like she could actually cast magic spells and curse those that betrayed her. 

Despite all that, she made decent company when he was out and about in the woods for whatever work he was doing. 

The witch spoke of her many encounters with spirits; the good and the evil. 

Savanis found himself increasingly drawn to the dark ones she told him of. They seemed more likely to obtain what they desired and he didn’t shy away from the means in which they helped this particular old hag acquire hers. 

He began to actively look for work that focused solely on his going into the woods. Those stories began to seem more and more real, and certainly the ways in which the witch lived her life seemed a lot more enjoyable than where he was stuck. 

Savanis was determined to change the course of his future, to live his life how he wanted, not to have anyone relying so heavily on him for mere survival. 

The time he spent in those woods grew longer and not for the work he was doing halfheartedly by then. For what he was doing, he might never need to work again. 

The old witch taught him spells, ways that he could get what he wanted without working all day for it. Ways to read into others’ futures so that they might pay him in exchange for that delicate knowledge. Perhaps, he thought, he could embellish a little here and there as the witch suggested, and so he did. She was right that people would pay more the more you’re willing to divulge, even if only some of it was true. 

-

Marjorie would wait for her brother each night, worrying herself sick while lying in her blankets on the floor of their one room cabin. She would force her little eyes to stay open until she saw him coming into the door quietly and setting his things underneath the floorboards where he thought she couldn’t get them. Then the child would finally be able to sleep. 

His items never interested her. One time she was curious and looked in the hiding spot, but only found feathers and vials of strange liquid that smelled funny. When she saw the small blade covered in something red, she hurriedly put the floorboard back over it and never again peeked.

Most of her days were spent outside in her garden. 

It wasn’t much of a real garden, but she had lovingly replanted flowers and other strange plants she did not know the name of that she found in the forest. 

The bees, dragonflies, and butterflies would swarm her little collection of sweet-smelling flowers, which was one of the reasons she loved it the most. 

Marjorie would sit there for hours, simply watching the butterflies flutter to and fro as she nibbled on her bread. She’d offered them some once but they were not interested, so she kept it for herself. 

Savi didn’t snap at her so much anymore and he started to bring home more food. She didn’t ask him what he was doing all day and he didn’t offer any details. 

-

Savanis wiped the already dirty rag down the length of his smaller hunting knife as the witch, Tanta he knew her as now, continued to stir the pot above the fire. 

When he was finally able to clear most of the crimson smears from the blade, he knelt down and tossed the bloody rag into the fire, his gaze drawn to the strange green hue that illuminated the flames briefly before they faded back to a reddish orange. 

“You remembered,” Tanta seemed pleased as she sprinkled something flaky into the pot. 

He nodded then sat back to watch her work. 

“I’m better than you ever acknowledge.”

“I’m aware.”

“Then why don’t you teach me more? Everything I know is practically useless to me now.”

“I thought all you wanted was a comfortable life,” she mused, not looking in his direction but clearly sporting a knowing grin, “Is that not what I’ve given you? You have food, clothes, and no need for work.”

Savanis sighed loudly, “What good is magic if it doesn’t give you more than the ordinary?”

“What good indeed,” Tanta muttered quietly. 

They sat in silence for a little longer, then he heard her speak again. 

“I have urged you to do things you have not done.”

He frowned, unsure what she meant for a moment, then it hit him. 

“Ah, you mean the rituals?”

“Indeed.”

“So if I worship him more, I’ll be able to do more?”

The only response he got to that was a silent smile. 

“I’m not sure I believe it is the thing,” Savanis continued, “Did you not say I was the one capable of magic because of who I am? Not because of some demon king?”

“On your own, you are no more special than that kid sister of yours.”

He bit his tongue at that, irritated. 

“She couldn’t handle any of it,” he spat bitterly, glaring at the flames that appeared to have turned bluish, “She’s weak and useless.”

“And that may be so,” Tanta let go of the ladle and turned to him, “But if you want to unlock your true potential, you must give all of yourself to his work.”

“And that means worshiping him every day?”

“The more genuine you become with it, the more you will not drag your feet about it.”

Savanis chewed on his bottom lip, contemplating. 

What did he have to lose?

-

Tanta was right. 

The more frequently he did the special rituals to the Leader, as she called him, the more he desired to do them. 

A lot of times he’d have to fight the stupid little voice whispering over his shoulder not to do it, saying that he could stop and it wasn’t too late to change. There were days the voice gave him pause.

Tanta told him never to listen to that voice though, that it was a spirit that claimed to be good but only wished for him to lack in anything he desired. Only wished for him to be a puppet and never live for himself.

So he continued to push it out of his head, and continued to make a point to do worse just out of spite. 

The darkness that took root in him was continuing to grow, and he welcomed it openly. 

Never before this was there much to his bland life. 

-

“You are almost to the highest rank I’ve been told.”

Savanis smirked at the witch that sat on a tree stump in front of him, knitting a dark cloth. It had only been a few months since she first began teaching him and he was already on his way to the top. 

“Envious?” He asked, arms crossed and brow raised in arrogance. 

She simply smiled at the work in her hands, “I have no reason to envy you child, I have been at the top for many years. I would say delighted is a more fit word to use. After all, you are my pupil.”

“And you are his pupil.”

“Precisely.”

“When do I get to do the final ritual?”

“When he decides you are ready.”

“How will I know?”

Her knowing smile returned. 

“You will know.”

-

Marjorie woke up with a start to see her big brother gathering his things. It was still dark, so she didn’t understand where he might be going. She watched silently from her makeshift bed as he put on his dark cloak and left without a sound.

-

Savanis lit the fire and stepped back, then tossed the bundle of herbs into it and watched the flames snap and crackle. 

He had a dream earlier in the night, a sign he took that it was finally time for him to reach his full potential. The man in the dream told him to come to the spot he was in and do the summoning. 

It only took a few moments before the air turned cold and he sensed a presence behind him. He turned and saw a tall handsome man dressed in dark clothes fit for a royal. On his back were large black wings that were at rest. 

He smirked at Savanis, who suddenly had a strange feeling that something might not be right. 

“At last we meet.”

Savanis swallowed, then spoke up, “You are him, then? The Leader.”

“Lucifer.”

“Lucifer,” Savanis tried out the name, a nasty taste following it in his mouth, but it did nothing to deter him. 

“Have you finally come to give your soul to me?” Lucifer asked, eyes locked on the boy in front of him. 

“Have you finally decided I’m worth it?”

A dark chuckle floated from the demon. 

“You have never been worth it, boy. You are as useless to me as the twig you stand on.”

Savanis’ mouth twisted in anger. 

“Then why are you here?”

“You asked me here.”

Savanis scoffed and looked away, feeling utterly humiliated and more than a little angered.

The demon took a step closer, “Do you wish to feel important to me, boy?”

The blonde glared at him, then tilted his chin up, “All I care about is getting what I want.”

“And what is it that you want?”

“I want to be able to do and have whatever I desire without consequences.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

“Then giving your soul to me is the right answer for you.”

“And yet you turned me down!”

Lucifer chuckled, “I said you are worthless. You are no match for the ones that do my bidding. They are far darker than you.”

“What would you have me do?” Savanis’ voice grew in strength. 

He was not afraid of the darkness. 

“If you want to give me your soul and join me, you must prove yourself. You must give me something else first.”

“I will give you anything.”

“A life.”

Savanis frowned, confused, “An animal sacrifice? I’ve already given you plenty-”

“Oh no,” the Devil stepped closer again, “One far more precious. A human’s.”

“Easy enough,” Savanis said without hesitation, the blackness in his heart causing him no inner turmoil at the request, “But who?”

A horrible grin spread on the prince of Hell’s face. 

“Is there no one in your life you wish to be rid of? No one that has tethered you down until you are merely nothing but the tool to their survival?”

Savanis stared at him for a moment. 

That nagging little voice began to beg him to listen, to wait and listen for a moment. Not to make any rash decisions. 

But he pushed it away like he had gotten so good at doing. 

“Yes, there is.”

______________________________________

“You remember her, don’t you?”

Your voice is broken and raw as you utter the words, head hanging while the weight of your body hangs on your shoulders unforgivingly. The feeling of the joints that are bearing all the weight beginning to dislocate makes you grit your teeth. 

Sav stands in front of you, his chest heaving in angry breaths. 

He doesn’t respond, only glares harder at your ruined form covered in crimson. 

You swallow thickly, tasting the metallic blood that coats the inside of your mouth. 

“You remember Marjorie…don’t you?”

Sav grabs your face harshly, forcing you to look at him. 

“Don’t say that fucking name ever again.”

You stare back evenly as you whisper. 

“Why do you pretend like you don’t remember? Who are you trying to convince: the other demons, or yourself?”

His jaw clenches, rage seeping into him at the fact that you know more than he’s comfortable with, the fact that you can read him like a book. 

An awkward silence stretches on and you can sense that Undidis is just now hearing of this. 

“If you think dropping a name that is in my past will rattle me, you’re wrong,” Sav seethes, fingers pinching your cheeks. 

“It isn’t just in your past though, is it? That is your punishment. It haunts you wherever you go, the pain you caused her now racks your own miserable being, and you will never be free of it-”

“Shut the hell up.”

“She’s up there, you know.”

The dark ocean in his irises seems to darken and get colder as you stoke the burning blue flames. He roughly lets go of your face.

“You will never hurt her again, Sav. She needs never to think of you or what you did. Marjorie sings joyfully with the angels and flies with her most beloved creatures.”

He watches your eyes drift to the dead monarch inked on his bicep. 

Your voice drops to a whisper as he steps back, hands shaking.

“Marjorie told me of the doll you sewed for her when she was three. She told me of the bread you brought home for her. You were always enough for her.”

You see him swallow thickly, but sense only an empty misery and anger there. 

“Even as you sacrificed the life of your only little sister for your selfish desires, she never hated you. She forgave you, Savanis.”

“I said shut up!” He slaps you across the face, snapping your neck to the side violently. Then he grabs your hair and yanks it so that you’re looking at him, his eyes wild with rage, “Your kind has stolen more souls from us than one could count, and yet you have the audacity to mock me while at my mercy? I am not going to stop ruining you, not until you break, and not even then. Beg all you want but I will not stop. Not even when you give in and lower yourself to me!”

“Go ahead!” You scream at the top of your lungs in his face, startling him enough to step back, “No matter how close you think you are to prevailing against His gates, you’ve already lost!!” 

The rage is clear in his eyes as he stares you down. 

Even as Undidis cracks the whip down on your back and you feel it rip deep into your flesh, pouring more blood down your already scarred skin, you do not look away from the demon standing in front of you. 

Despite the difference in your positions, he is the one that looks at you with trepidation swimming in his gaze. 

-

JK walks through the colorless trees of the second ring in the seventh circle, his gaze locked on the ground. The strange images won’t stop, they only ever get worse when he’s looking at anything but the pale dirt beneath him. 

Not once has he glanced at the sinners he passed as he stomped his way back through the circles. 

Not once has he given a second thought to the words being repeated in his head in a loop, the stupid little pathetic human souls begging him for a chance to ruin themselves. 

Not once has he been able to shake the image of you out of his mind. 

The terror in your eyes when he left you is burned into his brain. 

He wouldn’t think anything of it if the image was paired up with satisfaction and a desire to drag more misery out of you just to see you fall further into despair. But it isn’t. It’s accompanied with nothing but confusion and uncertainty.

“I’d rather live together forever. Wouldn’t you?”

The demon flinches at the soft voice that permeates his mind above all the others, a horrid feeling coming over him like when he sees those images he suddenly can’t escape..

“Live forever? Together?”

The sound of a snapping twig makes him lift his head briefly. 

The realization of looking up from the ground hits him too late. 

The sight of pale branches and dead leaves sets it off all over again. 

Shades of gray blur and morph until a horribly bright green replaces them all, the sound of birds twittering fills his ears, and the warmth of sun caresses his freezing skin. 

Laughter surrounds him as he fumbles to a stop in the forest full of so much life and light it’s painful. 

The demon glances around uncertainly before reaching shaky hands up to his ears to cover them, squeezing harshly to drown out the voices that seem so familiar and yet so foreign. 

For a moment, he thinks maybe he’s mistaken and that he was just summoned by a desperate soul seeking solace in the most perfectly horrid place. 

Just as he’s calming himself and taking his hands away from his ears, he stops abruptly after almost running into a large tree. 

He flinches back to avoid colliding into it. 

As the demon backs up slowly, he runs into something else. He turns to see an old swing hanging from one of the branches of the tree; it’s rocking back and forth slightly due to the force of him running into it. 

His hands begin to shake more than they have been since you put those wretched thoughts in his mind. 

JK takes a few unsteady steps backwards, tripping over his own feet to get away from the simple structure that’s causing so many confusing and conflicting feelings to crowd into his mind. 

Just as he’s about to turn and hurry in the opposite direction, there’s a sound cutting through the rustling leaves and singing bluebirds. 

He freezes, his blood curdling at the agonized scream that fills the forest and sucks the air from his lungs.

All at once, the green silky leaves and blue sky are ripped away and he’s back in the seventh circle. 

JK slowly turns to face the direction he came from. 

The direction where he left you to so easily be caught and tortured until you no longer had that little flame of hope he had always hated to see in you despite his desperate attempts to squash it. 

_________________________

You stare at the stone floor under you that’s illuminated with a pale red light creeping in from the crack in the corner of the cell. 

Every few seconds another ruby droplet falls from your skin and lands on the ground.

Your shoulders have long since been pulled out of place. The tops of your feet rest against the cold floor, unable to bear any weight to ease the pain in your shoulders. 

All you can do is continue to count the drips that never fail to fall in the same place, joining the ever growing puddle. 

You know they are going to come back in soon and continue where they left off. 

Please give me strength. 

You blink slowly, almost losing count of the next drop of your blood splashing into the little pool. 

The sound of the cell door flying open makes you flinch a little, but you glance in the direction of it anyway. 

You don’t see Sav or Undidis coming in to finish the job as you expected.

Your breath gets caught in your throat at the sight of JK being brought into the cell, his arms held roughly by two mangled demons that don’t even try to contain the cackles bubbling from their vile throats.  

Terror takes root in your heart when you think he’s been caught and is to be punished in front of you. Only seconds pass before you realize what it is you’re actually seeing. 

It isn’t JK. 

It’s Jungkook. 

You watch in mounting horror as they drag him to the center of the cell. 

As far as you can tell, you are no longer chained there. Instead, you are against the wall and watching as they clamp the chains onto his wrists. 

“Jungkook?” 

The name passes your lips in a breathless whisper, full of horror and confusion. 

None of them act as though they’ve heard you, or have seen you at all for that matter. How could they? You are witnessing a moment that has already come to pass. 

All you can do is stand there and stare. Your legs will not move as you tell them to, it’s like you’re frozen. 

Jungkook’s head hangs low, not looking the demons in the eye as they shriek and hurl vile profanities at him. 

A horrible scream rips itself from your throat when without warning they begin to beat and tear at him viciously. Even as you wail in desperation for them to stop, none of them react to your presence. 

You can’t even cover your eyes to avoid seeing it. 

It feels like it lasts forever until they’re finally stepping away and you can see his beaten and bruised form hanging there numbly, clothes torn and bloody cuts littering his skin. 

There isn’t a single sign of pain on his face, it’s as if he is incapable of feeling. 

The demon with bulging eyes and no nose laughs maniacally and turns to the other wretch in the room, “The fucker isn’t over the death of his little lover yet.”

Your heart rips in two.

The second demon that has mutilated moldy wings that are no more than stubs and half of its smile stitched with thick black thread, scoffs in twisted amusement, “Give him a few days and he won’t even remember her name.”

The two snort loudly to themselves before leaving the room, the cell door slamming shut behind them. 

“Jungkook,” you whimper, still stuck by the wall and at least ten feet from him.

The faraway look in his eyes as he stares at the stone floor makes your heart bleed painfully.

His dirty cheeks covered in blood and grime soon have streaks running down them as silent tears fall. 

He doesn’t move, not even when they eventually come in again and proceed to beat him without restraint. 

The sobs falling from your lips never cease as you can’t tear your eyes away from it. 

The bulging-eyed demon leans down close to where Jungkook’s head dips low, blood dripping from the prisoner’s mouth and nose. 

“What was her name again?” The voice is sneering, mocking. 

You hear his muttered reply even from where you sit by the wall. 

“____.”

-------------------

You don’t know how many times they came back, every visit bringing worse torment than the last. 

Each time, they would ask the same question. 

“What is her name?”

And each time, no matter how weak his voice became, he gave the same reply.

“____.”

------------------

The mangled demon with stubby wings lashed the whip angrily after Jungkook whispered your name for the hundredth time. 

You couldn’t bear to see the pained grimace on your best friend’s face as the thin leather strap tore into his naked skin, nor could you stand to hear the gut-wrenching cries that came from him when he was all alone in the dark cell for hours; nothing to occupy his mind but the thought of you. 

You’d screamed and pounded on the floor and thrown many fits, but he never saw you. All you could do was sit there and cry with him. 

The worst were the times when you could hear him muttering to himself in the silence, talking and laughing breathlessly about flowers and clouds and boats and sweet honey rice cakes. He would whisper about bird songs and rings and sunlight dancing on fingertips.

The stories he told to the quiet to make sure he wouldn’t ever forget you. 

-

“That’s it,” The bug-eyed demon snarled and turned to his companion to whisper something neither you nor Jungkook could hear. 

Whatever it was, it prompted the other to unchain Jungkook less than gracefully, ignoring his pained cries at the change in position. 

Then they both dragged him carelessly out of the cell. 

The next few moments flashed in front of you; the horrible images showing what it was they were doing. 

You saw Jungkook refuse to steal souls when ordered to, time and time again. You saw them drag him back to the cell and torture him until he couldn’t even scream anymore from losing his voice. 

It continued like that for nearly a hundred years. 

The time passed in a flash for you, but for Jungkook every moment felt like a millennia as they found new ways to wrench sounds of affliction from him each time he refused to do their bidding. 

__________

“We’re breaking him.”

The demon in charge of the prisoners’ under the Chamber of Souls scoffed at the lesser creature in front of him. 

“He doesn’t look broken to me.”

Jungkook kept his gaze on the floor, counting the tiny cracks running along through the ancient stone. 

He didn’t even flinch when a rough hand gripped his chin harshly and pulled to make him look up at them. 

“This girl you are so desperate to remember, tell me, what is her name?”

Jungkook blinked a few times but said nothing, his gaze cloudy and uncertain. 

Dark chuckles echoed around the cell. 

“See? I told you we-”

“Apple…”

Stunned silence fell over the dungeon at the name whispered brokenly, the screams of the other sinners fading into nothingness as the demons stood there and stared at their miserable prize.

“Get me the crank,” the general growled, “You know the one I speak of.”

Scurried footsteps faded into the hall as Jungkook lowered his gaze back to the ground.

------

The breath trickled from Jungkook’s lungs as he hung in the cell, his shoulders bruised from where they dislocated again each time he was brought back and rechained. 

He blinked slowly, watching the blood drip from him and onto the floor with a tiny splatter. 

The cell door creaked loudly but he didn’t move. 

Heavy footsteps echoed around the cell as the newcomer approached. 

Jungkook said nothing as he was unchained and dragged out of the dungeon. 

He said nothing as they brought him to a dark forest where a boy was summoning demons to make a deal with. 

He couldn’t even stand on his own, so he crumpled to the ground when they let him go. 

Jungkook stared at the young teen eagerly bundling the herbs he would soon toss into the fire. 

When asked once more if he would agree to deal with humans, with this boy, he nodded his head slowly in defeat. 

-

As they chained Jungkook back up in his cell, he stared ahead numbly, his body, mind, and will beyond the point of broken. 

The next time the demons came in and tortured him while laughing at his agony, he didn’t hold back the screams that were ripped from him. 

As Jungkook tried desperately to grasp any form of a thought in his mind, the demon general that just dealt out his torment leaned down and looked him in the eye. 

“So you’ve finally agreed to work for him, hm? This will stop then, after you answer one last question.”

Jungkook stared at him blankly, sweat and blood dripping down his face. 

“What is her name?”

The demon watched the broken young man blink a few times then look at him in exhausted confusion before whispering weakly due to the suffering endured. 

“Who?”

__________

As the ice cold cell once again surrounds you, a grief-stricken sob breaks from your lungs and you begin to weep loudly, the sound bouncing off the walls.

The excruciating pain in your body is no longer what hurts the most. Knowing everything that he went through for so long before breaking under the agony, is more painful than any physical torture they can bring upon you. 

You had asked for strength, and in seeing his torment, you got it. 

There was nothing that they could do to break you now, not if it meant you giving in would result in his eternal damnation and suffering. 

Your heart hurts so deeply you’re not sure it will ever be whole again. The only relief would be if it were to stop beating altogether.

- 

As tears of devastation drip down your sore cheeks, there’s suddenly a warmth that envelops you. 

Opening your eyes slowly, you realize you are no longer chained up, but lying on the hard floor of the cell. After a moment of staring at the cell door in confusion, you realize there’s something soft under your head. 

Turning ever so slowly, you blink up at the person sitting on the filthy ground of the dungeon whose lap you’re lying on, the entirety of them emits a warm glow. 

Your eyes are squinted from the harsh light as you back up a little and raise a hand to wipe at the tears on your face. 

When the light fades away, your gaze meets deep brown eyes flecked with gold and full of a love like no other. 

A small gasp escapes you and you instantly back away so you can bow low to the ground, forehead touching the frigid concrete.

A gentle touch on your shoulder encourages you to lift your head again. 

“I-” your voice cracks and you clear your throat before whispering again, eyes full of unshed tears, “I’m dreaming, aren’t I?”

A beautiful smile graces your visitor’s lips as He looks at you tenderly.

“No, child.”

The sound of His deep voice that resonates a soothing regalness fills your ears and the tears instantly creep over the edge and pour down your cheeks. 

You move to bow again, laying your head on the ground at His feet while you weep. 

“Come to me, ____.”

Not wasting a second, you lift your head and shuffle towards Him. There isn’t a single hesitation before you fall into His open arms, letting yourself be cradled closely. 

You bury your nose into the beige tunic He wears, breathing in the smell of wild flowers and crystal rain before another round of sobbing ensues. 

Strong hands caress the top of your head and shoulders. 

“Tell me everything,” He whispers gently, voice full of warmth and comfort. 

Even as you bawl messily, you let everything out. Everything that has happened since you crossed into Hell, every moment of fear for the one you came to save; fear that he would not choose to listen. How he left you alone after you tried to remind him of who he once was. You tell Him of all the horrible things the demons did to you and how wretched it was to see what your best friend had gone through. 

You are never interrupted, fully encouraged to say anything and everything that has weighed you down and how you feel as though all of this has been for nothing. 

When you have finally exhausted yourself and cried until no more tears will come, you feel something else. 

An agony so deep and so visceral that you feel what you have endured up till this pales in comparison. 

You lift your gaze to see tears pouring down His cheeks. 

In your mind you see all of the souls throughout Hell and on Earth that are yet to come to this vile place, the horrid grief that strikes your heart is unbearable.

You see Jungkook being beaten unforgivingly, then you see him prowling the Earth for souls to ruin, to share in his misery. The boy that was once full of so much life and kindness and love was gone, replaced with something so wicked and so full of hate that you barely recognize him. 

As you watch the souls choose to fall across the world, the sound of His ethereal voice breaks through the fog and heartbreak.

“No suffering united with Mine will ever be wasted.”

When your vision clears and you once again see the deep sadness in His eyes, you lurch forward and wrap your arms around Him; if only to try and ease the pain of loss He endures every moment. 

A gentle hand touches your torn wings and a comfort sweeps over you. No words are needed as you feel a new strength surge through you briefly before the exhaustion once again takes hold. 

You breathe shakily as you try to regain yourself, knowing that if you asked, you would be taken from here. But you will not give up.

Nagging little worries are still running through your mind though; What if JK refuses to listen and wants nothing to do with you anymore?

Despite how angry he was when he left you, there was a flicker of hope that remained deep inside, that he would come back. You’re ashamed to admit that now you’re afraid he’ll actually leave you here to rot and continue with his wretched duties.

“Do not be afraid.”

Nodding, you close your eyes and breathe in deeply. 

When you open them again, the room is empty, the sound of you blowing out your breath the only thing you hear. 

Your hands are once again chained above you, pulling your shoulders out of place slowly.

A loud clang rings out as the metal bars of the cell are flung open then the pitter pattering of bare feet is heard, nasty chuckles not far behind.  

Your limited vision is taken from you completely when slimy hands wrap a rough cloth around your eyes. 

Do not be afraid.

____________________________

JK gulps, his dry throat making it hard to swallow. 

He’s standing in the seventh circle and looking down the path he walked to get here; the path that leads back to you. 

The one that deceived him. 

You preached about being honest and yet you lied to him about the reality of who you are. Of what you are. 

Granted, if he knew at the beginning, he wouldn’t have given you so much as a second to talk before unleashing his pent up rage against your kind. 

And yet. 

Something is pulling at him, urging him to go back.

Maybe it’s the curiosity of wanting to know why you came here, why you did what you did.

Or maybe it’s something else. 

“Fuck.”

If he goes back…he will pay for it for the rest of eternity. 

…

JK closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. 

After a few moments, he opens them again and starts walking back down the path. 

_______

When he gets to the barren wasteland and sees the smaller mountain by itself in the middle of it, his stomach turns. 

It might not have been you. 

It could’ve been any sinner at the hands of his fellow demons. He’s heard many sounds of torment in his time. 

But never has one struck him as that one did. 

The demon shakes his head and starts walking again, eyes focused on the lone mountain in the distance. 

You probably won’t even be there, you must have gone to get the Flame yourself and just wanted to scare him off. That has to be it. You wanted him to leave, so that you could continue on your own and not have to live up to your end of the deal. 

The explanation makes perfect sense and he’s almost angry for a minute that he fell for it. But the pit in his stomach leads him to believe otherwise. 

-

As he walks up to the mountain, the snake vines becoming clearer with each step, something else makes him freeze. 

The echo of someone crying; horrible gut-wrenching anguish falling from their lips. 

His jaw clenches at the sound when it becomes obvious who it is.

It makes no sense to him why he’s suddenly filled with an uncontrollable rage at the thought of someone hurting you. 

JK grabs the snake wrapped around the handle of the back door you two went in and tears it off, tossing it to the ground and throwing the door open before stalking down the dark hall. 

He doesn’t stop until he gets to the Chamber of Souls, where he halts briefly when he sees the shattered glass on the floor, a stone lying haphazardly in the midst of it. The darkened souls where the glass used to be continue to float there, undisturbed. 

JK looks around but sees no one. The only other indication that something happened here is the ghostly feeling of past terror still clinging to the air. 

He turns his head and sees the alcove. Without hesitation, the demon walks over to it and yanks it open, proceeding to walk down the stairs and into the thick blackness. 

The high-pitched screams coming from each cell are enough to disorient anyone, but JK continues to walk down the hall, unfazed. 

He only stops when someone going the opposite direction runs into him and stumbles back in surprise. JK raises a brow, having not moved a centimeter at the collision. 

The short beady-eyed demon in front of him- whose name escaped JK for a moment but he quickly remembers it as Ekel- snarls to cover up his startlement, “Aren’t you meant to be getting punished for not meeting the quota?”

“Where is she?”

Ekel cackles, but it’s drowned out by the tortured howls around them. 

“Are you serious? You’re the one that sent her here and now you’re here to rescue her? I wonder what the punishment is for a demon letting an angel go,” he muses in wicked delight at the thought. 

The black-haired demon leans down to get level with him, snatching his wrist so fast Ekel doesn’t have a moment to think and squeezing it until there’s the sound of bones cracking and the miserable twerp is squealing. 

JK drags him closer, not letting up on the grip he has as he whispers in his ear, “I wonder what I’ll do to you when I catch you again with plenty of time on my hands. You do know the ranks here, don’t you?”

He gets no response but silence, so he keeps going. 

“I will wrench every single cry out of you that I can and I will not stop until you are unrecognizable to even yourself. Tell me where she is.”

Ekel gulps, then cries out again when JK pinches his wrist harder, “She’s at the end of the hall! But I- I didn’t do anything to her, it was Sav and Undidis, who don’t do well with their prizes being messed with. Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he spits.

JK narrows his eyes at the lower demon, “Spread this to anyone and I will rip you to shreds. Do you understand?”

Ekel nods, then growls in pain when his wrist is freed. 

Before he can move to get away, JK stops him with a warning grip on the arm, “And if you do happen to blab, be sure to tell Sav that if he ever shows up in front of me, he will wish he never came to exist.”

When he’s released, Ekel doesn’t hesitate to run away down the corridor, getting as far from his superior as he can.

JK straightens and stalks down to the end of the hall. 

To the left, the cell is empty. 

When he turns to the right, it feels like a rock is lodged into his throat at the sight that meets him. 

He brushes a hand over the giant padlock and it clatters to the ground in several pieces, then he pushes the barred door open, the loud squeak echoing off the walls. 

You don’t flinch at the sound. 

As he steps into the cell, the putrid smell of every second of torture dealt throughout time here hits his nose and he grimaces. The metallic scent of blood is thick in the air. 

The closer he gets to your form hanging in the middle of the cell, he realizes that you are not conscious. 

His eyes drag over you slowly, taking in the horror you’ve been put through since he left you. Since he delivered you right into their eager hands.

The simple white dress you wore when first coming here is in shreds; your body is practically naked and covered in deep gashes from all sorts of cruel instruments. There’s a ratty brown piece of cloth tied over your eyes as a makeshift blindfold to keep you from seeing what was coming next, to heighten the sense of pain when your vision was impaired. 

Your wrists are chained above you; keeping you high enough so that your feet touch the floor but are unable to hold any weight, especially since the untold violence wrought on you has left you incapable of doing anything but hanging in defeat as your shoulders are pulled out of place from the pressure. 

The dainty wings on your back that were once white are now covered in bright red blood and torn through in several places. The bottom half of your left wing is missing entirely.

JK reaches a hand out to carefully brush the hair from your dirty face. 

“Apple,” he whispers, unsure what else to call you. 

You don’t respond. 

The demon swallows thickly, then he moves a hand behind your head to untie the blindfold. It falls to the floor and he’s met with the bruises and cuts littered along your cheeks and dark circles coated in flakey blood under your eyes. He puts an arm around your waist, holding you against him, then reaches up to touch the rusted cuffs holding you captive. They turn to dust instantly, the weight of your limp body is immediately supported by his hold as you let out a quiet moan at the pain in your shoulders from changing positions. 

He lowers you to the ground slowly, lying you on your right side as gently as he can. 

The minute he has you safely on the floor, JK brings his hand down to your ankles and rids you of the shackles there before reaching behind you and doing the same to the iron binds around your mutilated wings. 

He grimaces at the sight of blood still oozing from the left wing that was cut in half. Then he forces himself not to linger on all the injuries across your once soft skin as he looks back at your face. 

You’ve made no indication that you know it’s him or that anyone is with you at all. 

JK leans over and moves the hair from your face, voice getting caught in his throat before he clears it and tries again. 

“Apple.”

Your face scrunches a little in pain, then you slowly blink your eyes open to see a blurry face in front of you. 

He hushes you quietly when you flinch and close your eyes, “It’s me. I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.”

You don’t open your eyes but he sees a small tear slide down your cheek.

“Demons don’t make promises,” the soft whisper of your voice breaks, “Only deals.”

His eyes drift over your bloody face, the silence following your words is deafening.

After a moment, he takes a shaky breath in and blows it out. 

“They won’t be gone long, I need to get you out of here.”

At your lack of response he gently touches your cheek, only to find that you’ve lost consciousness again. 

JK sighs softly, then he places a hand on each of your shoulders where the skin is discolored. At his touch, the distorted joints move back into place, but the bruising doesn’t go away. He leans back to pull the silk top shirt off of himself, leaving only the short sleeved one on. He ever so gently drapes the smooth black fabric over your front, protecting the sake of your modesty best as he can.

Then he puts his arms underneath you and stands, effortlessly picking you up and cradling you in his hold before turning and walking out of the prison cell. 

He walks all the way down the hall and up the stairs without stopping. 

Your wings hang loosely as he goes, still bleeding. They leave a trail of splattered scarlet drops behind the two of you. 

When he steps out of the mountain and into the red light, he sees your eyes scrunch unconsciously due to the lack of anything other than darkness for a while. You move your head to the side a little to hide in his chest and block the painful brightness.

He adjusts you in his arms before starting on the long trek ahead. 

___________________

You walked along the ancient stone pavement that curved around a particularly puffy cloud. When you rounded the cloud, you could see marble pavilions covered in green ivy and ivory flowers just ahead. 

“Well if it isn’t the newest treasure! Hi ____!”

“Oh, hello Leon!” You smiled and waved at the angel that flew up to you excitedly. You had met him shortly after arriving and he was as friendly as could be. 

“Where are you off to?” 

“Imelda has called me to speak with them.”

Leon smiled comfortingly, “This is about Jungkook, isn’t it?”

“I’m guessing so,” you whispered, a little on edge to find out what exactly happened after your death. It hadn’t even been a day since you arrived, which meant it had still only been three days after your death on Earth.

The angel patted your shoulder, changing the subject a bit to calm you. 

“You’d get there faster if you flew!”

You laughed nervously and glanced back at the slender wings resting behind you that matched his own apart from his being larger. 

As a child, you always dreamt of flying with the clouds and the birds. It suddenly seemed a bit daunting, especially seeing all the other angels flying to and fro with an elegance and grace unmatched. The one time you tried earlier you had crashed right into one of the honeysuckle bushes and had to get help from a passing angel to get out.

Thankfully they were the only one to see you. It also helped a bit that angels are not like people and have no reason to mock.

Leon could tell by the look on your face what you were thinking. 

“____.”

You looked back at him. 

“Imelda would not have asked you to make the choice if you were not meant to. You belong here, you know that right?”

A genuine smile broke out on your face and you nodded. 

As worried as you were about messing up, there was never a place you felt more at home. There was no doubt in your mind or heart that this place was where you would always belong. You couldn’t wait to share it with your best friend.

“Good!” The pretty angel giggled and patted you on the head sweetly, “I’ll see you around! You’ve got this.”

You waved as he flew away; looking completely natural among the clouds lined with a slight hint of silver and gold. 

Of course, Leon had been an angel since the beginning, he could never look out of place. 

-

You walked up the steps to the third pavilion to see your guardian angel Imelda, who had told you her name shortly after you came through the gates. She was speaking with Him. 

Imelda was sitting on one of the many pillows strewn across the shimmering floor, adorned in her usual delicately armored gown, the sword safe at her side. 

He sat on one of the rose gold benches lined with small white flowers, your guardian angel at His feet. Golden and purple robes flowed around Him, white hair and a white beard making His striking violet eyes flecked with silver stand out even more than usual.

Bringing yourself to a low genuflect, you bowed your head respectfully. 

When you straightened, you were met with smiling eyes that held an ancient wisdom and a wonderful warmth filled you to the brim. 

“____.”

You inclined your head again.

“We have much to discuss, I am afraid it is not positive in nature.” His voice was deep, the oceans couldn't even dream to compare.  

You nodded, already having assumed as much. 

He gestured a hand out for you to take a seat amongst the pillows so that you would be comfortable rather than standing for long. 

Quickly you moved to a plush pink pillow, a little too quickly you realized, when it slid a bit with you on it and a small yelp left your lips in surprise. 

Fond chuckles floated from the two you came to meet and you felt your cheeks burn. It was nice to make someone laugh when they were not harboring any malicious intent towards you.

The air turned serious soon after, the news that was to be shared hanging in the air. 

“It’s about Jungkook…?” You whispered. 

“Yes.”

You closed your eyes and gulped, “He’s taken my death even worse than I thought…hasn’t he?”

The silence that stretched on made a pit form in your stomach before you glanced up to look at them. Of course, you couldn’t be happier after death, you would never ever want to go back to that place, as beautiful as Earth was on its own, it couldn’t compare. You knew though, that poor Jungkook would not be feeling the same right then.

He was opening His mouth to speak when there was a horrible sound of sobbing that ripped through the air. 

A sound of such anguish was not normal here, it made the hairs stand up on your arms as you looked around to locate the source. 

It was coming from an angel, a guardian by the look of his baby blue wings and tunic. All of the guardians and the unborn children were a different color. The other angels, including you, were white; apart from a select few. 

But why was this guardian angel crying?

“Abba!”

The angel boy flew into the pavilion and landed with a harsh crash to the marble floor at His feet. 

“Nehemiah.”

You watched in confusion and a deep sadness as the angel who He called by name began to sob harder and clutch at His robes while sobbing into His knee. It looked like a child weeping on their parent’s lap after waking from a night terror. 

Nehemiah looked no older than fifteen; his chin-length wavy blonde hair contributing to making him look quite youthful despite all the ages of the universe he had witnessed thus far.

“Abba! I- I lost him!” Nehemiah choked on another sob, his pretty face covered in shiny tears and pale cheeks unnaturally blotchy as he hugged His knee. 

You looked at Imelda, who was holding back tears of her own as she watched Him comfort the weeping angel. 

“You did well, Nehemiah. You did well.”

You could hear His deep soothing voice through the fog of horror beginning to cloud your mind. 

When Imelda looked at you, you could see it in her eyes.

You stood, chest rising and falling in short panicky breaths. 

Nehemiah turned at the movement and saw you, a quick flash of recognition in his eyes, then he quickly broke down into more gut-wrenching sobs. You had never, never in all your life on Earth, heard the sound of such heartbreak. 

Your eyes drifted to Him and you saw a tear falling down His soft cheek. 

“No,” you mumbled, shaking your head slowly, “No.”

It was a desperate plea for them to tell you that it was not what you feared. 

You died. You were always meant to be the one that died too young. Jungkook was alive. He was down there and needed you to go soothe him, that’s all. That’s why they brought you here, to tell you he was in need of comfort and that you could give it to him.

But when you looked at the blue angel once again, you knew it wasn’t true. 

If everything was okay, he would not be here without him…

You walked over and fell to your knees, wrapping your arms around Jungkook’s guardian angel and holding him tight. He was shaking like a leaf as he hugged you back just as tight, “I’m so sorry,” he sobbed mournfully. 

You stroked his hair softly with shaking hands, silent tears falling down your face. 

-

“What do you mean, he made a deal?” 

Your voice was quiet, eyes red and tender from crying. 

Imelda was the only one still with you in the pavilion.

“In exchange for your health, Jungkook summoned a demon…he was visited by Lucifer himself.”

You knew of who she spoke. 

After coming here, everything became clear. The history of the angels and demons, of the universe itself; it all became known to you. 

“When?” Your voice broke in disbelief. You knew nothing of this summoning or this deal making that he had done. 

Then it suddenly hit you. 

“The Flame of Immortality…he wanted it,” you whispered in horror, “When he left after we were married. That’s where he went, isn’t it?”

Imelda nodded solemnly, “That is what he left for, it is not what he got.”

“But- but how? Why was it allowed to happen, why-”

“Nehemiah did the best he could,” Imelda’s voice was thick with grief, “His first choice was to love Jungkook, as mine was to love you. He spent Jungkook’s entire existence protecting him and comforting him, even during the deal. He urged Jungkook not to do it, but he was not heeded. There was only so much he could do when Jungkook had a choice.”

Tears fell down your cheeks. 

“Why didn’t he come to me?” You choked on your next breath, a hand moving to your chest in an effort to keep the air going in and out, “Why didn’t he come to me and tell me everything?”

“If he had…there was certainly something we would’ve been able to do. If he wanted help, we would have freely given even more of it than we already were. Jungkook was too far into despair and wanted what seemed to be the easy answer, he didn’t want to listen to Nehemiah’s warnings. He gave his life for you, but not in the way it should’ve ever been. Nehemiah stood by him, though, even in his last moments.” 

“Where is he?” Your voice shook.

“Jungkook died three days after you. He has been taken to Hell to uphold his end of the bargain.”

You closed your eyes slowly, hands trembling. 

“How do we get him back?” You choked out.

When she said nothing, you looked at her.

“Imelda, please. I know nothing is impossible for Him. Tell me how we can save Jungkook.”

“We can do nothing right now-”

“But-”

“Jungkook made a choice, he made a deal. But he was tricked into it without much knowledge and in the desire to do good for someone he loved. Lucifer cannot win when love and self-sacrifice is involved. He wants nothing to do with it.”

Your guardian angel took your hands and pulled you up from the pillow you were still sitting on. 

“For that reason alone, the deal can be revoked. But it comes at the highest price and only at a certain time.”

“When? When can I save him? I will go now,” you began to cry harder, “I will go and I will take him from there, please tell me how Imelda.”

Her green eyes glistened with tears. 

“The deal can only be broken for a condemned soul every five hundred years.”

You felt your heart stop in your chest and you choked back a sob.

“He made a deal with the Devil, ____. A deal that would have sealed his eternal damnation had it been for his own selfishness. We are lucky he made it out of unconditional love for you, we are lucky that we can save him.”

You nodded, wiping at your eyes frantically to clear them of the never-ending deluge. 

“Then when the time comes, I will go to Hell and I will save him,” your voice shook, “What is the price? Whatever it is, I will pay it. I’m not afraid.”

A single tear fell from Imelda’s eye as she looked down at you, a hidden pain in her gaze. 

“The same price that Jungkook paid,” she whispered, “A life for a life.”

_________________________________________

read 15b HERE

taglist 1; @kookxin @butterymin @telepathytae @kooliv @highoffbaddecisions @meanum @smitssharon02 @kmpac @ggukkieland @jjanjankook @sugaslittlekookies @hobispriteu1306 @kimchibrat @slowlydeliciousjiminie @screamertannie @i-dont-give-a-fok @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @ohyeahjk @babycandy111 @era-genius @xmochiloverx @sopikooo @jamlessstars @bangtannie7 @nuttykittypainter @geniejunn @ane102 @charlesswife @ashbxnny @veronawrites @jjkw-7 @jinsundor @h-g-bts @justvibingsblog @hyunyeon @hellbornsworld @hiii-priestess @nuttypizzacat @vidaficrecs @royallyjjk @thvslvt @hoseoksluv89 @moonchilddna @idkjustlovingbts @aurorathi

[vintagemulti]

shards and splinters

parings: marc spector x reader , steven grant x reader

desc: apparently what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. now you’ve died and returned alive, perhaps it’s time to test that theory; or risk losing your life once and for all.

warnings: blood, angst, swearing, fighting, guns and gun violence, death descriptions, long as fuck, sex mentions i guess(? if you squint), hurt/comfort, gory i guess (jake🤷🏻‍♀️) writers note: idk how accurate these are bc i’ve been writing this on and off for years but cover all bases i guess xx

a/n: psa to pls reblog anyway she’s BAAAAAACKKK did you miss me ?? i missed youse … if there’s even a moonknight fandom anymore 🫣 i’m so sorry for the 2 years gone from the face of tumblr, i’ve quite honestly had two years from hell and insane writers block so. can anyone even remember this series?? idk maybe you should all reread the first parts 👀👀 anyways. there’ll be one more part to this (will it come this year? next? 2026? who knows…) bc i HATED my original ending and just had to change it. also sorry if this feels rushed or like it jumps around a lot, it’s been written over YEARS, but i’ve tried my best for continuity. also, i know there’s a lot missing in like fight scenes but they are BORING and i hate writing em so i’m not doing it. tried, got half way thru then didn’t touch this for 7 months so.. it’s no fight scene or no part at all. but my last part is pretty much done so hopefully it’ll be posted soon! ill let youse savour this for a while tho lol. on a real note thank you all SO much for all the love, even two years later. it means the world. all my love, all the time x

series masterlist

masterlist

the air felt different now. it was funny; you and marc had been apart hundreds, if not thousands of times, but he had never felt your absence. not like this. no, never like this. it was different now because he knew he could look for you everywhere and you would still be in that room, not breathing, not living.

he could see it all so clearly now. all of what? all of it. everything; life, your life, his life, where everything went wrong, what he should have done, should have said, how he could have saved you.

there was nothing you could have done, marc.

“that’s easy for you to say.” he mumbled, looking down at his hands. “you’re not the one who was halfway through a fucking argument when harrow took her. and if you can remember, harrow took her because of me.”

steven sighed, and went quiet.

“i should’ve died on that fucking alter.”

marc said it over and over, like a prayer, to go back in time and pull the trigger. he was fuck knows where, it looked like the middle of the desert but marc didn’t care enough to question it.

he had walked out of that pyramid and kept on walking - for hours. the hot egyptian sun had began to set, casting a rosy hue on everything. the humidity make marc’s head ache.

steven had gone silent - a small hum of anger in the back of marc’s head. it usually would have surprised marc, for steven to be the angry one. but he wasn’t sure he would never feel surprised again.

are you going to wallow here forever?

marc looked up, low sun glinting in his eyes, making him squint. but he could tell exactly who it was - crescent staff in his peripheral.

“fuck off.”

khonshu laughed. that’s one way to talk to a god.

“fuck off.” he repeated.

and why should i, mortal? why should i listen to you?

“you did this.” it was stiff, cold, a definite statement. “you did this to us.”

khonshu groaned, moving to block the sun from marc’s eyes so he could see him properly. aren’t you going to question how i am here?

“no.”

perhaps you should.

marc could never cope with khonshu’s riddles. they had always infuriated him - never getting a straight answer. but this one, he could tolerate.

“fuck does that mean?” he was looking directly into khonshu’s eyes now - something he had readily avoided for years. “and don’t give me any of your goddamn riddles.”

if you must be so blunt, it would seem like osiris has taken a liking to your poor lady wife. hathor isn’t half fond of her, either. maybe you ought to go back to the pyramid, something tells me your needed.

and he was gone. disappeared with a gust of wind, leaving marc alone in the saharan sunset, shaking and still covered in his wife’s blood.

she’s alive?

“i-” marc looked around. “i don’t-”

his eyes slipped into the back of his head.

steven took a deep breath, swallowing hard. he set off in a run - towards the pyramid.

-

“this feels so fucking weird.”

you were pressed flat against the wall, peeking around every few seconds to make sure one of harrow’s followers wasn’t coming your way.

i must admit, it’s been a while since i’ve had an avatar.

you let out a breathy laugh. was that your first ever laugh since being revived? you supposed it must be. oh, you wished it was one of steven’s jokes you were laughing at instead.

you didn’t think you’d ever find one of his jokes unfunny again.

“where is he?”

it’s hard to tell. i can’t check, unless i’d like ammit to spot me.

humming, you looked around the corner once again, breath hitching when you saw a shadow come closer.

what made your breath stop completely, however, was the slow, melodic tapping of a cane, following every footstep the person took.

harrow was less than two feet away from you.

swallowing hard, you pushed yourself against the wall even harder, back cold against the concrete. you hoped - prayed with your newfound faith in osiris and his mercy - that harrow would turn back the other way, not hearing your thumping heart.

but your luck had ran out for this lifetime.

the tapping of the cane became louder, until you could see the tip of it in your peripheral, crunching glass finally becoming audible. he was about to come around the corner, and see you. you would be impossible to miss, even the bright red of your new outfit making you stand out.

it seemed like it was impossible to escape harrow, and the tapping of his cane. he had killed you once, what would stop him from doing it again?

apparently, a guardian angel. someone spoke, making harrow turn to look behind him.

this was your chance - to slip away and turn the opposite corner, escape harrow in your new life as you couldn’t in your last.

his voice made you flinch. cool, charming, low. like a snake - exactly like a snake, now you thought about it. the way he slid through life, from the bar all those years ago, to now, awakening a centuries old god, aiming to destroy the world.

you could slither away too, though.

still holding your breath, you sidestepped along the wall, making sure to watch your step over any lose stones, until the wall fell away behind you and led you into another corridor.

as soon as the light from the hall had faded, you let out your breath, hands coming to your forehead and rubbing your eyes.

we have to keep moving. ammit is almost ready to begin.

nodding - although it felt like your brain was rattling around your skull - you looked back up and saw hathor, still looking as beautiful as ever.

this hallway was much dimmer than the last. colder, too. it was like all the light had been blocked, the only thing keeping your vision was the small, fading candles lining the walls every meter or so.

perhaps it was your natural instinct, or a new given sense as an avatar, but you could tell - something wasn’t right. something in the air had shifted, on top of the hot, sticky, egyptian heat, there was something sinister.

your years as a mercenary had taught you to recognise something - blood in the air. and there was certainly blood in the air around you.

“what is harrow’s plan?”

he wants to judge people. through ammit, he believes he can rid the world of everyone bad, even if they aren’t already bad.

“so he’s playing god?” the corridor seemed to go on forever.

he would never admit it, but yes. and ammit is the perfect enabler for him, she’ll know exactly what he’s up to, but because he can give her her power back, she’ll play along.

you scoffed lightly. “harrow isn’t stupid either. he’ll know what she thinks.”

hathor shrugged, a few paces in front of you. only time will tell, my dear.

for a few minutes, the walk along the corridor was silent. the tap of your shoes echoed down the hall, breeze from your passing flickering the candles on the wall.

why did you marry him?

it stopped you in your tracks, hathor stopping too.

“what?”

marc. why did you marry him?

you stuttered for a moment, looking around as if someone would come and help you.

i don’t mean it in a rude way. i’m the goddess of love, it’s natural for me to want to know.

“well,” you paused for a moment and began walking again, slower this time. “we were young when we met, i was coming up for 18 and he was 19.”

and?

“and i knew what i had done to him.” you swallowed. “i felt fucking awful, i thought, maybe if i get to know the guy, and he’s not as much of an ass as everyone makes him out to be, it’ll make it easier for me to forgive myself.”

the corridor kept on, as if it were never ending.

“as you can tell, it didn’t work.”

he wasn’t as much of an asshole as everyone thought?

“no, he was,” you gave a dry smile. “it just so happened that assholes are my type, and i think he worked it out pretty quickly. so after only about two months of knowing each other, he asked me on a date. a real date. it was my first ever date too, god knows anton never took me out. but god, he was such a gentleman.

he picked me up, gave me flowers, wore a fucking tie. and he payed for everything, too. dinner at a four star restaurant, a movie, then out to a bar for drinks.

i knew i had fucked up when he kissed me that night.”

you regret it?

“not for a day. and that’s my mistake- i mean, i was supposed to hate him. i told myself i would hate him. so i wouldn’t feel bad about telling someone to kill him. i didn’t even know how he got out alive- he didn’t tell me about the khonshu shit until after we got married.

oh, our wedding,” you smiled again, a real one. “it was perfect. i was twenty one, marc was twenty three. we were so young. it was a small wedding, just some friends, neither of us invited our family. it was the best night of my life.

it was the night i met steven, too. i think the stress of the day must have triggered it. and that was it- there was marc, and there was steven.”

didn’t it take a while to get used to?

the corridor began to open up, getting slightly wider by the meter. still - there was no end to it in sight.

“it did and it didn’t. i knew for a while there was something happening to him, he would disappear, look confused all the time. i knew it was a matter of time until something changed. and then came steven, perfect steven.

he changed so much- it was like dating all over again. he was even more perfect than marc, stupid english accent included. but, naturally, abuthing that’s perfect must come to an end.”

hathor sighed. and it gave you the impression, just for a moment, that she already knew the whole story. that she was humouring you by letting you tell it. her sigh, sad and resigned, almost confirmed that she knew what was coming.

“the-” you stopped. your voice had broken, and your feet no longer moved. hathor continued for a few paces before looking back at you.

i understand, but if there’s any time you need to tell this, it’s now.

“you know?” you voiced your suspicions.

take into account which god i am, my dear. there is no one else i could chose, but you.

you swallowed. “what’s the point of talking about it if you already know?”

you have been born again. revived. would you like to carry this, this horrible vendetta against someone who has done nothing but love you, for the rest of your new life?

“no.”

then voice it. i can take this pain from you, if you only ask me too. i can help you.

you bit your tongue, looking down at your feet and kicking around a few of the loose rocks. hathor waited.

“the baby was supposed to be born just after my twenty-third birthday.”

a beat. hathor didn’t reply.

“but he didn’t live past twelve weeks.”

you looked back up at hathor, anxious for a reply. she didn’t give you one, only nodding.

“i don’t- i don’t know what i did. i was waiting until i could get a scan, tell marc, have it done properly, you know? but when i went to my appointment, i knew. she didn’t say anything, she just looked. then she left, got the doctor to come in.

he said that the baby had died, that they weren’t sure of the cause, but it was a boy. that my baby boy had died.”

tears threatened your eyes. never - never - had you spoken about this before. not even with marc.

“i went home, with a hatred in my heart. the next few days were the worst. i was grieving a child no one knew i even had. the blood was horrible, it hurt so badly. i told marc i was on my period. fuck, for all he knew i was.

and then my baby was gone. and i hated marc.”

why did you hate him?

you shrugged. “i have no idea. i needed someone to blame and marc was the easiest. that’s when it all went downhill, you know? i wanted him to be there for me, for something he didn’t even know happened. and when he wasn’t, i blew up at him. and he blew up at me.

and that was it, for three years. this horrible hatred towards each other, me hating marc for something he knew nothing about, and marc hating me for every other reason.

he hated me the most for making him stay a mercenary. he wanted out, he wanted a normal life in the suburbs with a dog and a big house and maybe, one day, a child.

but i can’t have that. i don’t want that kind of normal - not when i was so close to it and lost it. so i pushed him into this world. i made him take jobs and work himself to death, even when i found out about khonshu. i made him do it.

and that’s why we’re here. because i told him to follow khonshu here. and now look what i’ve done.”

hathor took two, wide steps towards you, and cradled your face in her hands.

you have done nothing that makes you inhumane. none of this mess is you fault. khonshu would have gotten marc here one way or another. anyone in your shoes would be the same.

her hands were warm. you felt a tear fall, running underneath her fingers. “but i’ve been so horrible. i’m a monster - if not for this, for everything else.”

hathor shook her head. you are a human being.

there was silence as you cried and hathor wiped your tears. at least two minutes passed - but it didn’t matter to you. harrow could come running around the corner and you wouldn’t bat an eyelash.

hathor took a deep breath, looking to her left along the corridor. she opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, another figure appeared.

is now a bad time, human?

you flinched at the rough edge in khonshu’s voice. “what do you want?”

what do i want? there’s a long list.

even through your tears, your patience thinned. “seriously?”

hathor took her hands from your face, turning to look at khonshu. enough of your riddles. just tell her.

the unmistakable sound of footsteps, running, drew your attention. they were getting closer.

i don’t think i have to say a word, actually.

just as khonshu had finished, a figure appeared, coming around the twists and turns of the corridor.

your heart stopped.

marc looked around in a daze, eyes falling first on khonshu, then on hathor, then…

“y/n!”

just as he had stopped running, he started again, coming towards you like a lion out of his cage, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off of your feet.

“oh baby,” he mumbled into your neck.

you had just reached - wrapping your arms around him in equal tightness, hands flying into his hair. oh, god. his hair - his curls, his skin - you’d never take it for granted again.

he pulled back, hands on your cheeks in a mirror image to hathor. his eyes locked into yours, brown irises melting into his pupils, filling with tears.

marc stuttered, trying to get several sentences out at once, before you hushed him.

“please, marc, we don’t have much time. harrow is gonna-”

“i know,” he nodded, eyes still not breaking from yours. “i know- baby, i know. please- please, just give me a minute. i never- i thought i’d never- oh, baby.”

he leaned in, moving his hands out of the way to rest his forehead against yours. he was hot - sticky with sweat and dirt and, although you didnt want to think about it, your blood.

“i know,” you whispered, closing your eyes. “marc, i know.”

barely having finished your sentence, he leaned in and kissed you.

it was like the first kiss all over again, and you supposed it was. hot, needy, passionate, desperate. you could live in this moment.

but the unmistakable sound of khonshu clearing his throat broke your kiss.

if you wouldn’t mind, harrow is about to release ammit. i’m sure your couples catch-up can wait another hour.

“yeah,” you nodded, breaking away, but marc was far more hesitant to let go.

“i can’t-” he looked around, paranoid. “i can’t do this, y/n. i just lost you, i can’t run the risk of losing you again, i’ve never- y/n, i can’t let you go, you’re everything to me, and if harrow- oh god, what did harrow do to you? i swear to god, the minute i see him, i’m gonna-”

he blinked. a beat.

“paranoid git never did know when to be quiet, did he?”

“oh, steven,” you threw your arms around him again. “fucking hell.”

steven, unlike marc, seemed far more willing to let you go. “love, i know, but if we don’t go now, we’re all gonna end up dead. please, we can do this all after, yeah?”

he took your hands in his, stilling your shaking fingers. he was so warm - always so warm.

“okay,” you nodded, looking between him and the gods beside you. “okay.”

-

you had severely underestimated how far harrow was willing to go. it had been what felt like hours, an unrelenting fight. you weren’t even sure when layla showed up, hoping to help you in any way she could.

but her attempts were futile; ammit was huge. really - huge, bigger than the pyramid behind her. khonshu had, as usual, gotten involved too, so that meant he was the same size, almost trampling you with every step he took.

you had tried. really, you had. you’d tried to use your new found avatar abilities to at least land something on harrow, but truth be told, you were failing. he’d hit you far more times that you’d even aimed for him, you were covered in cuts and rapidly forming bruises, you were sure your shoulder was dislocated.

but worst of all? your head wasn’t right. you weren’t sure what was wrong with it - it seemed fine every time you focused on identifying the issue, but every time you weren’t paying attention, it was there again. dizzy, a ringing in your eyes, everything a second or two behind; your vision lagging and cloudy. but just as you’d notice it, it was gone.

it was getting worse, too. you could see marc out of the corner of your eye; he was one to one with harrow. it would have made you anxious if you could properly focus on what was going on. but you couldn’t - your thought were scattered, a ringing back tenfold in your ears, the world had gone distant and hazy.

the doctors told you it was a concussion the next morning. layla had actually came in very handy, able to translate the man’s arabic into english for you.

he had told you that you’d sustained a massive head injury - you figured it would have been investigated, if you hadn’t been one of the people there last night.

‘there’ was all people could talk about. first the sky had gone backwards (you’d missed that part, thanks to being dead), then, out of nowhere, two ancient egyptian gods had appeared, destroying all the buildings in their wake, pyramids too.

it wasn’t that you couldn’t remember it. you could - it was clear in every aspect. it just didn’t feel like you’d been there at all. even the build up to it, every moment from when you’d stepped out of that pyramid, hand in hand with steven, hot air hitting your face;

it wasn’t you.

well, obviously it was you. but it wasn’t the same you. everything felt different, you didn’t have the same emotions you did before. the same key ones, yes, like how you felt about marc, and steven, and who you are as a person, but basic thing, like fear, and compassion? it was gone.

you’d have voiced this to a doctor if you could put ‘i died and got brought back to like by an ancient god, but not the same one who destroyed half of your city last night, sorry about that, by the way’ into layman’s terms.

trauma induced dissociation was enough of a label for you. it fit - everything just felt a little hazy, was all. not that you’d asked your doctor, a google search (excluding the resurrection part) had taken you to pages and pages about dissociation and how it’s normal to feel it after a traumatic event. you were pretty sure dying was a traumatic event.

and yes, you could bring it up to your doctor, he was payed to help you, after all. but there was a strange gnawing in the back of your head: that if you voiced this feeling, it would only get worse, and the happy ending you and your husband currently had would be shred in two because you couldn’t feel properly.

so instead, you listened to his professional diagnosis; a severe concussion, fractured rib, dislocated shoulder, several cosmetic wounds, and mental trauma that would be discovered at a later point, if you ever got around to voicing it to a doctor.

what a lovely shopping list, you thought.

-

it was three days before they let you out, and marc wasn’t getting out for another two after that. you’d had to beg him to even go to the hospital in the first place, but now he was getting the medical attention he’d needed for years, he seemed content in his hospital bed. not that he’d ever admit it.

with two days to yourself (not nights, you’d go back to the hospital and stay with marc), you decided to have the egyptian holiday you had come for.

the first stop was obvious; buy clothes. all of the ones you had were either covered in blood or halfway shredded. once you’d achieved this, in a new white linen sundress (cut below the knees to hide the still raw scars), you felt just slightly lost.

of course, you weren’t lost, you were always quick to get your bearings in new places - mercenary years had left you with a few skills, after all - and you kept yourself in a fairly small area, close to the hospital in case you got an emergency call.

no - the feeling of being lost came from deep down. ever since you’d come back to life it was the same, a strange longing for something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. something you felt you just had to have, maybe not right now, but in the near future. the hazy feeling had already begun to pass, you were sure google had served you well. but it left behind this in its wake, a new, even stranger feeling.

a breeze blew your hair lightly as you looked down the street in front of you. it was picturesque, all kinds of small shops and cafes as far as you could see. you could hear kids playing somewhere, a baby crying in the distance.

the lost-longing feeling piqued at this.

“oh.” you breathed. “oh.”

beside you, hathor, dressed in a golden, floor length dress and looking beautiful as ever, laughed.

oh, indeed. did you forget which god i am?

[alexawynters]

Scarlet Whispers - pt 2

Gif not mine

A/N: Not sure about the formatting, copy and paste didn't quite work out as planned. Title subject to change, not sure how I feel about it. This is my first published fic here so pls be gentle. Also I'm terrible at summaries.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female!Reader

Trigger warnings (let me know if I forgot to tag anything): Mentions of past child abuse, ongoing adult child abuse, stalking, horror, dubcon, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, gaslighting, angst, smut. There will be bits of fluff tho.

Rating: M. Minors DNI

Master list here

You miss your stop.

Not only do you miss your stop, but you end up all the way at the bus depot before the driver notices you passed out in one of the seats. The driver, a kindly older gentleman, offers to give you a lift home since it is the end of his shift anyway. He takes pity on you, perhaps due to your tired and sad appearance. Interestingly, no one seems to notice the red wisps behind his eyes.

You appreciate his kindness, but you are anxious about returning home. A quick look at your phone reveals that it is well past 6 PM and you have missed multiple calls and texts from both of your parents. This is not going to end well. In simple terms, you are fucked. Fortunately, the man doesn't seem to notice your restlessness as your leg bounces nervously as he gets closer to your home.

As you exit the vehicle, you politely thank him and offer to pay for the gas, but the man refuses. His accent changes slightly as he says, "anything to help." You shrug it off, as it is not your concern where people are from. Your focus is on more pressing matters. After closing the door, you square your shoulders and mentally prepare for the absolute shit show awaiting you as soon as you step through the front door.

It shouldn’t surprise you that your father’s booming voice is the first to be heard. “Where were you?”

You start with the truth. “Dad I’m sorry, I was on the bus after my exam, I fell asleep with my headphones-”

”I don’t want your excuses! While you live here under our roof, you will show us some respect, you will follow our rules! You had chores to do today, why didn’t you do them?”

A bead of sweat trails down the back of your neck. You hate being interrupted, and you hate being asked questions when they clearly don’t want the answers. Besides, you are in your twenties, not a child. “As I was saying, I-”

This time your mother interrupts. “Don’t speak to your father like that. He asked you a question, we expect you to answer it!.”

You grit your teeth. “I fell asleep on the bus, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Always with the excuses this one.” Your father laments. “Do you think your future employer is going to care about any of that? No. He’s just going to want to know why you weren’t there.”

It takes every ounce of your sanity to not snap that your answer is the reason WHY you weren’t there, and not simply an excuse. Instead you hold your tongue. They aren’t here to listen, they don’t care. They just want to yell at you, and for you to be sorry.

“I tell you, with behavior like that it’s any wonder at all you’d even be able to keep a job. They would probably fire you on the spot, and then you would be right back on our doorstep, our problem once again to pick up the pieces.”

It’s all hypothetical of course - you’ve never been late to any of your classes, but you have not yet had a job, you weren’t allowed to. You are sure you wouldn’t be late to it though if you were to treat it like your classes. You know you can’t tell your parents this however. Might as well bite the bullet and get it over with.

“Yes Dad, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? Saying sorry simply doesn't cut it! Sorry doesn’t fix the problem that you caused, so tell me, how are you going to make the problem right?” he demands. A vein throbs in his forehead. Absently you think about how he knows he should watch his blood pressure, but that would require him to watch his temper. Y/D/N could never.

You know what he is looking for, he wants you to do your chores now, but it’s after 8PM and your exam is at 8AM. If you do your chores now, that leaves you little time for last minute studying, eating, bathing, sleeping, and then catching the bus back to the university. Helplessly, you look to your mother for help.

“Don’t look at me, this is your mess you’ve created. If you had just done what you were supposed to, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. If you had just been good, you could be doing whatever it is you do with your free time right now.”

It had always annoyed you greatly that your parents were unaware of your academic achievements. While it's true that you didn't have the best grades as a child, once you entered university and chose a major, you became a straight-A student, even going so far as to make the President’s list the last three years in a row. However, in their eyes, you would always be the little underachiever they had to take care of.

Tears well up in your eyes. This situation wasn't fair. It was an accident. You had fully intended to come home and do your chores, but you couldn’t have known you would sleep through your alarm on the bus. You had been so incredibly exhausted that you experienced a vivid nightmare whilst awake. You were aware that you needed more sleep, but your degree was your only way out of this miserable place. You couldn't risk losing it all just because you missed a few hours of sleep now and then.

“Please?” You beg. You didn’t have anything else to argue in your defense. “I’ll leave my headphones in my bag this time, I’ll set multiple alarms, I won’t sleep, just please let me go study!”

Your parents look at each other, having silent communication. Seeming to come to an agreement, your mother speaks first. “Y/N we’re sorry it has to be this way, but you have already proven on multiple occasions that we can’t trust you to do the right thing. Tonight, you are going to do your chores even if it takes you all night to do it. Besides, we all know you’re not studying up there. For all we know you’re just up there masturbating in the window or something.”

Being stabbed in the chest would have been less painful. You don't understand why you're caught off guard; it's not like your mother hasn't said off the wall shit like this in the past. It's almost as if she thrives on finding the most hurtful and outrageous statements to throw in your face, as if you deserved them. As if you had ever done any of the things she accused you of. Like you were some sort of deviant, when all you wanted was simply the right to exist.

“What the actual fuck, Mom?!” you scream, having finally had enough. Both of your parents look taken aback. Rare is it for you to raise your voice at them, even more so to curse at them. “I know you’ve been pretty checked out of my life for a while now, but I’ve had a 4.0 GPA for the last three years. I don’t know where you got that… comment… from, but I can assure you that all I want to do is go to my room and study.”

“Now listen here young lady,” begins your father.

"No, YOU listen, Father," your voice dripping with sarcasm. “You were right about one thing, and that is I am a gods damned adult. I take my studies seriously, and while it may come as a surprise to you since neither of you have paid any actual attention to my life since I turned 18, though it could be argued you really stopped paying attention earlier except for when I was being an inconvenience, but I am actually a great student. This is my last semester before graduating with honors and again, a 4.0 GPA, and I will have my choice of job opportunities. I will leave this place, and you miserable old bats will have no one to be your punching bag anymore. Then maybe just maybe you can finally take a look at the flaws and fix what's wrong with your own marriage, instead of trying to break ME!”

Your chest heaved. It felt good to speak your truth, but as the silence grew, you began to realize that you might have made a mistake.

Your father has finally gotten out of his chair, looming over you. A resounding slap echoes across the room as your father backhanded you, knocking you to the floor. “You ungrateful, miserable little bitch! I don’t know what lies those ‘professors’ at the university have been filling your head with, but you have no future, and you are lucky your mother and I care enough to let you live under our roof! And so long as you do, you will obey our rules, and show us the respect we deserve!”

Fearful, you scramble back to the wall and attempt to push yourself to your feet. “If that’s the price of living here, then I will happily live in the University’s library. One week, that’s all I need!” You step forward to make your escape from this house, but this time your mother shoves you, and once again you find yourself on your knees.

You raise your hands in self-defense, but your mother sneers, "Do it, Y/N, hit me, and you'll be out on your ass faster than you can blink!" Crying, you lower your hands and prepare to allow her to strike you.

The lights went out all at once, and everyone froze. Has the power gone out? It couldn’t have, you could still hear the hum of the AC unit. So what was wrong with the lights?

The lights turn back on as suddenly as they had gone out, and all three of you look around in confusion. However, despite the lights returning, the room appears darker, creating an almost eerie atmosphere. The shadows cast a looming presence over all of you, sending a shiver up your spine. Your home, which you have lived in for around twenty ish years, suddenly feels foreboding, and you wonder if it's too late to flee. It almost resembles one of the nightmares you have been experiencing recently.

Red mist fills the room, a dreadfully sinister voice speaks. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

All three of you turn to the source of the sound - the corner of the room, as a red and black leather-clad boot, attached to black leather pants, steps through a portal and into the room. The Scarlet Witch follows, radiating her full glory. She warns, "If you wish to keep your body parts intact, you will never lay a finger on Y/N ever again."

You’re pretty sure your eyebrows have never been closer to meeting your hairline before and yet here we are. You don’t know who this unfamiliar lady is, nor how she seems to know you but God damned if that outfit doesn’t look as if it has been painted onto her. You blush at your sinful thoughts. Now is not the time, and you’re pretty sure you’re having a stroke of some sort. If nothing else, however, you are grateful for the reprieve from your beating.

Meanwhile, your parents had never taken well to being told what to do, by anyone, they certainly weren’t going to now by this costumed stranger. Your mother bristles. “Who is this Y/N? Another one of your little whores?” Completely disregarding the fact that you have never in fact had a partner in your entire life, and you don’t know whether to be pleased that she seems to think you’re capable of having a sex life or affronted that she thinks you’re some type of floozy. Your mother’s words, not yours.

“What? No, I-” You look helplessly from the floor between your parents and this woman you now recognize as the one from your visions, and the same one from your hallucination this morning. Is she here to help, or to hurt you? She has been your savior and aggressor in both; there’s no telling which she has chosen for now. Glancing between them, you are unsure how to de-escalate this situation. There is no way to convince your parents, for their own safety, that this woman is powerful and not to be trifled with. Nothing you could say, they would believe, and you were pretty sure this woman would kill your parents without a second thought if they didn’t tread carefully.

Seeming to sense your struggle, the woman speaks up in your stead. “As I’ve said, you would do well to keep your hands to yourself. I am here to take Y/N with me, and you will not stand in my way. This is your only warning, which I am giving to you out of consideration for Y/N.”

She reaches down for your hand to help you back up. Hesitantly, you take it, ignoring the shock that runs throughout your body, and begin questioning your entire reality. Take you with her? Who even is she? Where exactly is she going to be taking you? You had questions, and you would like some answers, but if you didn’t get your parents to stand down, you were pretty sure she would follow through on her threat. Sure, your parents were trash, but they were all you had. You loved them, and you were certain that, in their own warped way, they loved you, too.

She helps you up and proceeds to give you a thorough once-over, carefully inspecting your injuries. Her intense scrutiny makes you blush. Meanwhile, your parents remain silent, their thinly veiled anger evident as they observe your interaction. How dare this woman speak to them in such a manner? Thankfully, they wisely choose to keep quiet. Perhaps they also sense the dangerous aura emanating from this woman, perceiving her as a true threat. Then again, it could be due to the fact that she just stepped through a literal portal conjured out of thin air moments ago. Maybe they had been paying attention, but even you are unsure of what is real anymore.

Still holding your hand, the Scarlet Witch leads you back towards the portal she arrived through. "Come, Y/N, we have much to discuss." At this point, all you could do was helplessly trail after, hoping you weren't going from bad to worse. At least by leaving, your parents would be out of danger. As for yourself, well... It was clear that the Scarlet Witch wanted something from you. Hopefully, whatever that was would be sufficient to ensure your survival. Perhaps even enough to negotiate with.

At the last possible moment, your mother chooses, whether out of genuine love and concern for your well-being, or fear at the loss of her control over you, to reach out to take you from this bizarre woman. “Mother, no!”

Y/M/N finds herself promptly flung onto the wall behind her, and stuck there, unable to move. You aren’t sure who exactly screamed but you’re pretty sure it was every member of your family. The Scarlet Witch hadn’t even turned to look, the only indication she had even been involved is the raised hand, opposite the one holding yours, with dark, ink-stained fingertips, bent at slightly odd angles.

“Stop, please! Let her go, she won’t do it again, please! I'm sorry, please!”

Unsure of why you are begging for this woman’s life when she has spent the entirety of yours making sure you were miserable. Still, your heart lurched at the thought of anything happening to your mother. You didn’t like her, and if you never saw her again, that was probably for the best, but you certainly didn’t want anything bad to happen to her.

The Witch took a deep breath, seemingly to calm herself, before turning to face you.

In the softest voice you had ever heard she whispers “Detka, I-.” She opens and closes her mouth a few times, deciding what to say. To your absolute mortification and delight, she leans down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, and promises “I will let them live, but I must say my piece.”

You nod, completely dumbstruck at everything happening in this moment. What. The. Fuck.

Y/M/N, still pinned to the wall, whimpers and struggles to move but is clearly unable to. The Scarlet Witch turns from you to face your parents. Another wave of her hand, and your mother slumps to the floor, alarmed, but otherwise unharmed. It is clear whatever the witch did, both she and your father are now restrained.

Footsteps approach the pair, and the lights in the house flickered ominously. Despite your mother being nearly 40 years older than her (or so you assumed, as you had no idea of this woman's age), the power emanating from her exuded confident malevolence. She showed no fear towards them, and for once, although ashamed to admit it, you were glad to see that they were afraid of someone else.

Though she was only about 5'6", the woman knelt before your parents, her voice filled with menacing intent. "I know everything you have ever done, everything you ever could do, and everything you ever will do. I know what you are guilty of. I know what you deserve, and I can assure you that it is not mercy. I will spare your lives and leave you unharmed due to the kindness of your daughter, the daughter you’ve abused for decades." As her head tilts, you can't help but feel that she becomes even more dangerous. "But if you ever try to take her from me again, I will seek retribution on her behalf, and I promise you it will be the most excruciating agony you have ever experienced. Do we understand each other?"

You squirm uncomfortably. This should not be doing things to you, but then again, no one had ever stood up for you. Ever. Gods you needed therapy. It’s fine. Little boxes, and this was for a little box for later.

The witch stood up and once again took your hand, leading you through the portal and leaving your parents behind. Perhaps for good, you weren’t entirely sure, and you suddenly realized you didn’t care. Anywhere was better than here; even if this woman was dangerous, at least for the moment, she seemed to care about you, and that was enough for you to follow her to the ends of the earth.

Again, therapy…

The pair arrive at a massive stone temple, which you would later learn is called Mount Wundagore, the Scarlet Witch's temple. It is built into a massive, rugged mountain with steep cliffs, situated above dense forests and enveloped in mist. The mountain exudes an air of mystique and possesses an eerie atmosphere. Scattered across its walls are depictions of the woman in front of you, accompanied by various runes whose significance you suppose hint at a potentially supernatural importance.

The Scarlet Witch does not make much of an effort for introductions, nor explanations, simply heads towards the entrance to her temple.

“What is this place?” you ask, hints of awe and fear in your voice

“Our home.” 

Your brain stutters. “I’m sorry, what now?” 

“Detka, do not pretend you did not hear me, I don’t enjoy repeating myself. This is our home.” Her accent sounds vaguely Eastern European, and becomes more pronounced the more irritated she is. You wonder when she started trying to hide it.

Your mind balks at the idea of this being your new home, it couldn’t be less foreboding. “Uhhh… this.. is a giant stone temple in BFE nowhere, with ice, snow, and-”

Movement startles you out of your reverie. Beings made entirely out of stone shift from foot to foot, as if adjusting their stance. Their eyes have the same red glow as the woman who leads you now.  

 “Are those rock trolls??” The stone guardians loom threatening, but make no move to engage, they await their Queen’s orders. “Right. Rock trolls. Why is this our home? WHERE is our home? And,” you spin, taking the aesthetic of the temple in, trying not to have an anxiety attack. “What do you mean -our- home? Who are you, and what do you want with me?”

You can’t tell if the faint twitch of the other woman’s lips is in amusement or annoyance at your ramblings, but in your defense, she had let you speak uninterrupted. You were known for getting entire paragraphs out if left unsupervised - it was a talent and a curse. Personally you felt she should be grateful you weren’t jumping down her throat, you didn’t know anyone else who would be taking this half as calmly as you were. Then again, you were still waiting on your Hogwarts acceptance letter at 25. 

“My name is..” she hesitated. “Wanda. I am.. I was an Avenger.”

You looked on blankly, hoping she would elaborate. The fuck was an “Avenger”?

"In my universe," (you filed away the fact that she implied the existence of a multiverse for later, as it was a problem for another time) "the Avengers are superheroes. Well, that's what we called ourselves - Earth's Mightiest Heroes. A bit arrogant, if you ask me. We dealt with threats that the military and ordinary people couldn't handle. We were the last line of defense. We saved the world countless times, but at a great cost of lives. We were vain, thinking we were above it all because we believed we were acting for the greater good. But try explaining that to those who were lost as collateral damage.

I digress. We.. were considered to be heroes. There were several of us, we were a team. A family. We lived together, fought together. Died together. Until we didn’t.”

Wanda explains the dynamics of the Avengers team, including how she and her brother Pietro joined. She mentions Pietro's death in the battle against Ultron, as well as the events leading up to and the battle against Thanos. She also covers the events of the “Blip”, and what happened afterward. However, she conveniently chooses to omit the events of Westview, as she didn't want you to know about that just yet.

“That’s.. wow. Wanda, that's a lot. Honestly, if I hadn’t seen your powers myself, I wouldn’t believe you. But all of that still doesn’t explain why you’re here. You mentioned your universe as being so fantastical, why would you come here? And what do you want with me? If you’re a hero, why are you here in what totally looks like a villain’s lair and not with your other superhero buddies?” You neglect to mention the unease creeping up your spine.

This is fine. Everything is fine. Right? Right. 

A look of utter despair crosses the witches face as she locks eyes with you before glancing away.

“I mentioned my team before, but I didn’t mention you.”

“…” You slow blink. This was not how you thought your day was going to go, and honestly, you were already getting a bit of a headache. Could she be less cryptic because that would be great. More details, fewer questions. Maybe another nap.

"Y/N, where I am from, you were also an Avenger. You had joined the team before Pietro and I, and were one of the few who made us feel welcome. Despite the fact that we had previously been enemies, you didn't treat us as ticking time bombs. Instead, you welcomed us with open arms. Your go-to tactics were kindness and understanding, which made it hard not to want to get to know you. When Pietro died, you were the only one who checked on me and cared. You taught me that grief is just love persevering. You became my closest friend, and over time, I couldn't help when those feelings began growing into something more.”

You swallow uncomfortably. It sounds like Wanda is telling you that in this other universe you both were an item. It’s not that you wouldn’t be honored to be with such an attractive woman, but it feels weird knowing that that was a different version of you. Someone with superpowers, someone likely more confident by the sounds of it. This feels almost as if you are intruding on something you shouldn’t, yet Wanda is the one telling you this; if it weren’t okay for you to know, she surely wouldn’t be sharing. You don’t really know what to make of this; if she has feelings for this other you, why is she here with this version of you?

“In the battle against Thanos, we learned that the source of your powers was an infinity stone embedded in your skull courtesy of H.Y.D.R.A. experiments, which altered your genetic DNA. Thanos had also learned you possessed this Mind Stone and sought to take it from you by force.”

Anguish on her features, the witch turns to you. “You were going to die, Y/N. We tried, I tried, so hard to protect you, to keep you away from him but at every turn he found you. If he had gotten the Mind Stone, he would have been able to enact his plan to rid the universe of half of all life. You told me.” She hiccups.

“Y-you told me it was okay, that you forgive me. That I needed to.. that I needed to destroy the stone to save the universe. I didn’t want to. I would have given anything else but that. But you held my hand and told me you forgave me, that you only felt me. Then Thanos came, and we were out of time. I was the only one with the power to do it because its magic was so similar to my own. I placed my hand to your head and I-.” She is unable to continue, breaking off into sobs.

Oh. So she had to sacrifice you to save the universe. Well. You agree with the alternate you, you didn’t blame her, and you would definitely forgive her. Awkwardly you try to find some way to comfort her. While obviously you were not the same person she had loved and lost, and you knew from your own experiences with loss that sometimes words just couldn’t cut it. Instead, you shuffle forward, making sure you were heard in case she wanted to refuse you, and pullher  in for a hug.

Wanda tenses in your embrace, as if she can’t decide if she wants to sink into it or send you flying. “The worst part,” she continues, “was that it meant nothing.”

If you were a dog your head tilt might have been cute.

“In the end, Thanos was still able to get the Mind Stone, and you were still dead, by MY hand, and it all meant NOTHING!” Wanda wrenches herself from your grasp, looking positively unhinged. You probably should have been scared. You weren’t. Her wrath did… things… to you. Therapy…

“All because Strange saw supposedly every possible future and CHOSE to let you die to save everyone else. As if there was no other possible outcome!”

Oh, that... that makes more sense. The other you was still dead, and Wanda was definitely suffering from PTSD from her involvement in it. Her little stunt with your parents was probably her way of trying to save you or bring you back to life. But in your universe, there weren't any superheroes, magic, or Thanos to protect you from (that you were aware of at any rate). So what was Wanda doing? This wouldn't bring her version of you back to life. You may have looked and sounded alike, and you might have made similar decisions, but you simply weren't the same person. The lack of the same life experiences meant that you had different personalities, despite having a similar genetic build.

“So we saved the world, and I left to live in exile. After the funeral, Clint handed me your belongings, and in them was a letter. A deed to a plot of land you had purchased in our names where we were going to build a house. I think it was supposed to be a surprise after we defeated Thanos. We had never lost before, not since Pietro - I don’t think it occurred to us that we could. So I drove out to see and.. Y/N I was still so new to my powers. They were still mostly subconscious. I was grieving and... it would be easier if I show you. May I?”

“May you.. what?”

A subtle smile appears on the witches' face at your ignorance. You are tempted to mention how beautiful she looks with that smile. Shaking off the thought, you ponder if she can read your mind, as her smile becomes knowing and a slight blush colors her cheeks. Ink-stained fingers reach towards your temple, but she hesitates, waiting for your consent, and your heart fills with warmth. You nod once, despite not really understanding.

Her charcoal-colored fingers, cold to the touch, make contact with your temple. Just as you're about to complain about the lack of warning, you're abruptly transported into a completely different world, surpassing the immersive experience of any 3D movie you've ever seen. You not only hear and see everything in every direction, but you can also feel and smell it all. It feels as if you are truly present in that moment. It takes a few minutes for you to realize that you are witnessing someone else's memories, to be precise, Wanda's memories.

She starts her memory with the unexploded bomb created by Tony Stark, which sat in the middle of the rubble of the Maximoff residence. In that chaotic scene, there were two children, the twins, hiding in fear under a bed. However, before you could offer any comfort, the scene shifted. The twins had been taken to HYDRA, where they were subjected to brutal experiments. Witnessing their suffering broke your heart, and despite your best efforts, you were unable to interact with your surroundings, although you desperately tried. Repeatedly you threw yourself against the walls of the cells in which the twins were held, hoping to free them from their hellish situation. You observed the twins' powers first emergence: Pietro's as he attempted to reach his sister's side, and Wanda's as she tried to defend Pietro from the scientists.

Scene after scene, each one as traumatic, if not more so, than the last, depicting all the events from Ultron and beyond. And then there's you. Except, it's not really you. You've certainly never possessed the power of teleportation, nor have you ever been so self-assured. This must be Wanda's universe's version of you. With bright eyes and a warm demeanor, you appear as a beacon of light in Wanda's otherwise bleak life. You observe as the version of you in this universe warmly welcomes the twins to the team, a stark contrast as to how the rest of the team treats the newcomers ranging from suspicious to openly hostile.

It’s surreal, watching yourself from outside your own body, knowing this version isn’t really you, but still no less real of a person. Wanda’s memories begin focusing less on missions and more on interpersonal relationships. Specifically, the one developing between yourself and Wanda. It’s intimate and you feel like an intruder watching this unfold. Sadly, as you grow closer, Wanda loses the only other connection she has - Pietro is hit by stray bullets while saving children. A true hero, and there was nothing anyone on the team could do to prevent it. You watch in horror both for the loss of Pietro as a friend, as well as knowing the absolute devastation this will cause your beloved Witch.

You can tell at this point that that’s what she was to you. It hasn't been long, but that bond has clearly already been sealed; you can see the signs in both your alternate self and Wanda. You would have to be blind not to. The loss of her brother does terrible things to Wanda and it’s all your other self can do to try to keep her afloat. “What is grief but love persevering?”

The scene shifts again. Time has clearly passed, and Wanda appears to have healed to some extent. She and the team have become much more cohesive, which delights both versions of you. Your relationship has definitely progressed, if the blush currently gracing your face, extending to your ears, is any indication. You feel the remnants of the emotions from your alternate self. They are not yours, but neither are they entirely unfamiliar. It makes for a disconcerting sensation to say the least. You don’t know Wanda like that, even though this version of you does. You wish you could view these memories dispassionately, free from your alternate self’s emotions that are bleeding through, but you suspect that’s not possible. Once again you try to reassure yourself that you are not the same person, no matter the genetic makeup.

Jarring you from your reverie, next you find yourself in another battle, and this one is massive. There are more superheroes here than you have ever seen before, either in Wanda's memories or in films. This must be the fight against Thanos she had told you about. Dread settles in your stomach like a stone, and for a moment, you contemplate what it will be like to witness your own death.

Traumatizing, for sure, though not for the reasons you had expected. While you are unable to interact with your environment, you are able to freely move about. Instead of looking at the memory entirely from Wanda’s perspective, you move to stand beside yourself. Wanda stands before you, ethereal, magnificent, yet utterly devastated. She knows what she has to do and pleads with you not to make her. It is unjust for a woman so powerful to suffer such loss, and still you implore her to sacrifice your life, her happiness, for the sake of the rest of the universe. It is unfair. It is cruel. You know it, but you ask anyway.

She never could tell you “no.”

You know the moment this universe's version of you had died when you witness the sheer devastation on Wanda's face. Most people would probably look away, but you couldn't. For some unknown reason, you feel compelled to witness this moment in all its horrifying detail, if only to gain a true understanding of the witch and the immense pain she has endured. There were surely few things more intimate than allowing someone to share their own memories, and here Wanda was, granting you unrestricted access to hers. The least you could do was accept this gift she was offering, no matter how painful it might be.

The images that follow blur together, evoking your personal experiences with grief and a sense of detachment from the world. The funeral is somber, one and all everyone dressed in black and grey. Wanda is present only in body, and you can’t blame her. Clint, the archer, hands her your belongings, including the letter she had mentioned. It unnerves you how detached Wanda appears to be at this moment, despite being surrounded by friends and colleagues. You worry about what lies ahead for her. So much loss in such a short time, it didn’t take a psychiatrist to know this would surely take a toll on her. You prayed that her friends came to check on her, but you had a feeling either they didn’t, or in her grief, she refused them entry.

Colors blend into one another and fade out. You find yourself standing on a plot of land in a town called Eastview, crouching next to Wanda as she collapses to her knees. Her body is wracked with anguished sobs as she finally allows herself to grieve. You wish you could interact with this memory, to hold her and alleviate some of her pain, even if only for a moment. Instead, you sit with her, sharing in her pain as she releases it all into the world. Wanda allows herself to experience her grief in its entirety, no longer burying her feelings beneath a veneer of numbness. Colors leech from the world around her, turning it greyscale. You're pretty certain that even at their strongest, the average person's manifestation of grief isn't supposed to do that, but then again, the average person isn't the Scarlet Witch. Briefly, you wonder what consequences this will have on her world. Your head feels fuzzy, and as your vision fades to black, you suppose you are about to find out.

You regain consciousness and find yourself in a world entirely devoid of color. Disoriented, you blink as the details of your surroundings slowly come into focus. In front of you stands... well... yourself. Or rather, an alternate version of you who appears to be from the 1950s, slightly older but still alive. Seated beside 1950’s you is Wanda, also monochrome and dressed in 1950s attire. Blearily, you rub your eyes. It has been a long day, and you are extremely tired, unsure if this is just an incredibly vivid hallucination or if you have actually passed out somewhere.

Alternate you asks Wanda a question, to which you aren’t listening, and she replies with a quip - you still aren’t listening, wondering where you are and why everything is in greyscale. What catches you off-guard though, is the surround sound laugh track that‘s garnered in response. It’s galling to admit but you jump, startled, and look around. There’s no one else in the house besides yourself, the alternate version of you, and Wanda. Where did that come from?

Alternate you replies to Wanda, and again with the laugh track. This time you are not as startled, but no less unsettled. What fresh hell is this? Could this be Wanda’s doing? It doesn’t seem like you can ask her though, as you’re just a passive observer in this strange situation. The last thing you remember, Wanda was grieving in Eastview at the plot of land which alternate you had purchased to start your life together after retiring from being superheroes. Strange grey wiggly woos (as you were starting to refer to her magic) were emanating from the witch, quite different from the familiar scarlet color you had grown accustomed to.

Perhaps this was her doing, if only subconsciously. You tried to recall, didn’t Wanda mention something about her powers being new to her and mostly unintentional? This could be what she had been referring to. Apprehension made a home in your chest as you found yourself dreading whatever was about to unfold before you. Oh no, Wanda, what did you do?

It doesn’t take long after observing the hijinks and mishaps, for you to realize that Wanda's grief had manifested through her powers. She had transformed the town of Eastview into Westview, resembling a 1950s-style sitcom town. Wanda, along with an alternate version of yourself (if you were truly still alive - that part you hadn't figured out yet), and the entire town were trapped. While it may have started unintentionally, Wanda became aware of it and began actively using her powers to maintain her idyllic town, keeping it isolated from the outside world and preventing the townspeople from leaving. In her grief, Wanda was essentially playing house, holding everyone hostage. However, despite her powers growing stronger, it was clear that the people living there were suffering. If you could even consider their existence as living.

There were even two boys - twins, just like Wanda was a twin. Your heart broke, knowing this could not possibly end well. While technically not "real" and not even "yours" at that, watching these boys be born, live, and grow caused you to cultivate a love for them almost as if they were your own. Your heart thumps uncomfortably in your chest; you didn't want to see how this plays out, but you didn't have a choice.

Despite the dysfunction in your parents, you had always wanted a family of your own. An attempt to break the cycle and bring new life - happy and healthy - into this world. You wanted to raise your kids with the love and care you had never experienced yourself.

You understood the motivations of the witch, but that didn't justify her morally questionable choices. Once again, you are condemned to remain on the sidelines, unable to take any action to resolve the situation. You are forced to witness this charade unfold, hoping and praying that it would end well for everyone involved, yet knowing that it would not. How could it possibly?

Despite your bias, after witnessing everything Wanda had endured, you found yourself wishing for the best outcome for her, in particular. Among all the people you could think of, she deserved a break from the misery that had plagued her life until now.

Eventually, it all came to a head when another witch named Agatha Harkness had infiltrated the town with a book called the Darkhold, attempting to convince Wanda to join her and increase their powers. If Wanda refused, the witch planned to take Wanda's powers for herself. Something about a prophecy regarding a Scarlet Witch.

Meanwhile, the alternate version of you had become self-aware of the true nature of Westview. This version of you pleaded with Wanda to prioritize the wellbeing of others over her own happiness, once again. They urged Wanda to defeat Agatha and free the townspeople, even if it meant losing her spouse and children. It was an impossible choice, and you questioned whether you could have mustered the courage to make the same decision in Wanda’s position.

Wanda defeated Agatha, not that you ever doubted her for a moment. She said goodbye to you, again, and then to her boys, and released her spell. The town was free, but her family.. was gone. Wanda was once again on her own.

A startled gasp leaves your lips as you awaken from the memories. It feels like it’s been ages, but from what you can tell, it must only have been minutes since Wanda first began sharing her memories with you. “Oh.”

Cringe. You wish you could have said something, anything more eloquent. Unfortunately, you feel as though you've just been hit by a Mack truck and could nap for a week. It doesn’t help that you were still feeling the effects of lack of sleep for the last couple of weeks. 

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t feel so good, is it okay if I lay down somewhere…?” A quick glance around the temple makes you second guess the question you were about to ask. Stone floors did not make a good bed.

With a tone much softer than she had been using, she replied. "Of course, Detka, you only need to ask." 

An elegant wave of her slender fingers and gone is the stone temple, replaced by a cozy bedroom. At a cursory glance, you can tell it is a sanctuary of comfort and tranquility, featuring a plush, inviting bed. The room is adorned with personal touches, such as framed photographs of you and Wanda, and artwork that is somehow absolutely your aesthetic. Shelves display a carefully chosen selection of your favorite books, each waiting to be explored. These items add character and give the space a feeling that is unique to you, even though you have never set foot in this place before.

“Come,” A glimpse of Wanda and you are surprised to discover instead of her red and black uniform, she is now garbed in an oversized sweater and some cotton sweatpants.

“You have been holding space for others for so long, it is time you took some well-deserved rest. You work much too hard.”

“Uh s-sure.” About to make a comment that perhaps you should also change, but looking down to find that you are wearing your favorite worn Legolas shirt and some pajama shorts.

“Right. Rest.” Part of you wants to ask when you can return to your home so you can finish studying for your exams, but based on previous conversation, context clues tell you that’s the least of your concerns right now, and Wanda probably wouldn’t be too pleased with that topic of discussion right now.

Wanda takes your hand, leading you to the bed and it takes your overworked brain far longer than you care to admit to realize that she means for you both to share it. Your brain short-circuits at all the factors at play here: Knowing that you yourself are touch-starved; this absolute enchantress of a woman dated an alternate universe’s version of you, even going so far as basically playing housewife and mother of your children, and here she was asking you to share a bed. Sure, she wasn’t asking you to sleep with her, but she was still asking you to share a bed next to her and what if you accidentally spooned her in your sleep, and what if-

”You’re thinking too loudly, malysh.”

“What? You can- you’re a mind reader?!” you panic, backpedaling mentally, praying to every deity that existed that you hadn’t had any unsavory thoughts in her presence, and nearly fainting as you recalled that you in fact, had some rather explicit thoughts from the moment you first saw her.. The mortification alone was enough to put you into an early grave. You weren’t sure how you had missed that during everything she had shown you, but you reasoned you were probably more focused on the physical manifestations of her powers. 

"Relax, Y/N. I don't intentionally read minds, at least not anymore. Sometimes, surface thoughts are so loud that I can't help but hear them. Like right now, you're practically yelling them at me," she said, trying to offer a reassuring smile.

Unfortunately, while you were no longer freaking out about having accidentally offended the witch, you were now spiraling down a different path. You were agonizing over the pain you had, and likely were still causing her by thinking so loudly. If you remembered any media involving mind reading, the person with the ability usually suffered greatly at the hands of others unintentionally. Naturally, the average person didn't know how to shield their thoughts, and you were afraid that you might be giving her a migraine. To the woman who had only tried to bring you to a safe place and offer you shelter. 

You began to hyperventilate.

Wanda could see that you were spiraling, even without being a mind reader. It was written clearly on your face. However, being able to hear your thoughts helped her identify the source of your anxiety, and she berated herself for not considering that earlier. This version of you lacked confidence, and it was now Wanda's responsibility to help rebuild it. At least, according to her.

"Your parents really did a number on you, didn't they, detka?"

Cool hands gently held your cheeks, pulling you out of your thoughts. Suddenly, Wanda invades your personal space, and the scent of vanilla fills your nostrils, momentarily distracting you from what was happening.

"We're just going to take a nap, okay Y/N? You don't have to worry about anything. I'm not bothered by any of those thoughts you have." A leering grin unfurls across her face.

“If anything I’m quite flattered by them.” She winks.

Heat flashes across your body, and you can’t tell if you were embarrassed, aroused, or both. Unfortunately, you knew your thoughts were likely betraying you. Gods, if only the floor could just open up right now and swallow you into the abyss. Yes, that would be fantastic.

"However, there is time enough for such things later. It's been years, Y/N, and I've just got you back. Nap with me, please?" The witch's eyes gaze longingly into yours, and well, when she looks at you like that, how could you say "no"?

She leads you to the bed and, with the practiced ease of her time in Westview, pulls you into her embrace as the little spoon. Earlier, you had been worried about accidentally touching her inappropriately or having a dirty dream. Now though, with her arms wrapped so protectively around you, sleep claims you almost instantaneously.

[rentsturner]

Bruised Knuckles - A.T

Warnings; reader has punched a wall, mentions/descriptions of injury, mentions of (non-specified) scars, content that some people may find as very similar to self-harm, reader is paranoid and insecure. If any of this triggers you pls don’t continue to read. a/n: I originally wrote this about a different person but I've rewritten it for Al for a bit of comfort after a rough few days. If you don't like it, don't read it. Thanks @martinipoliz for being my hype man

It’s a cold day in London, the skies grey and cloudy over the city.It’s been a long day without Alex. He’s been out since the early morning at the recording studio, the boys being in the middle of recording their next album, leaving you to spend the day alone in your tiny apartment. As much as you don’t want to admit it, the isolation has gotten to you - you slipped, more than once. Yeah, you regret it, but also there’s that nagging need for more at the back of your mind. You try to push it out, to forget about it, but the cold in the air doesn’t help to ease the ache in your knuckles. 

The door to the apartment shuts with a click and a jangle of keys, footsteps heading towards the door, the click of Alex’s boots rhythmic on the hardwood floor. He’s back. A wave of relief floods you, before you remember and your chest clenches in panic.

‘Alright, love?’ Alex flops onto the bed with a lazy grin, stretching his arms up over his head. 

‘Yeah, fine, you?’ Keep it simple. You busy yourself with a stack of books by the bed, straightening the pile of your shared novels so it’s not about to topple over. Keep the hand busy.

‘Yeah, alright. I missed you. Took us so long to record one of the new songs, Cookie kept messing up the solo so we all just ended up leaving it for the day.’

You nodded along and let him recount the rest of the story. You’re admiring the way his dark lashes flutter against his pale skin and how his arms flex as his hands come to rest behind his head, when you realise that Alex has stopped talking. And you’ve stopped moving.

‘Your knuckle…” his eyes dart down to the hand you’ve been trying to hide ever since he walked through the door. Busted.

‘Oh.’ You move to get up, anything to get his eyes away from your swollen knuckles, red lines criss-crossing over the flowering purple bruises where your hand collided with a solid brick wall. Multiple times. The open cuts are still weeping, even though it had happened hours ago.

‘It’s nothing, just tripped on the stairs. Don’t worry about it.’ You offer a small smile, but it doesn’t fool Alex.

‘No.’ He moves as you do, standing in front of the bedroom door to block your escape. His arms are crossed over his chest, stance serious, but the worry in his brown eyes betrays him. ‘Love. Let me see it.’

He holds out his hand, pale fingers reaching out to you, calloused fingertips brushing against your wrist gently. He knows how to help. The hand reaching, an offer of support, reassurance, love, all those things that you crave but can never admit. Emotions aren’t your forté - never have been.But Alex knows that. There’s no secrets between you. You almost laugh out loud at the thought. No secrets, but you won’t even show him your hand.

Alex would do anything for you, you know that - he tells you all the time. Days spent in bed chatting shit to each other.

‘I’d write a whole album just for you, y’know?’

‘Would you now, Al? I think I’d prefer a book of poetry.’

‘Well I’d write that as well. In a heartbeat.’

Bright eyes, wide smile. Your Alex. He’s joking, of course, but his tone is so serious, his answer without a second of hesitation. Your heart skips a beat.

So now, you give him your hand (and your heart).

He takes it tentatively, one warm hand underneath, the other poking at your raw knuckles gently. When one of his prods reaches a tender spot, you wince and he moves his finger away, meeting your gaze in apology. 

‘You punch something?’ His brow creases, a hand running instinctively over his unruly locks, before scratching at the back of his neck. He’s been growing his hair out recently, letting the brown strands begin to curl around his ears, not using as much gel in it as he used to. He looks gorgeous. Then again, he could shave his head and you’d still think he was the best looking man on earth.

The sting in your hand brings you back to the present. 

‘No.’ You look away from Alex’s gaze, knowing that in doing so you’ll give yourself away, but not having the energy or willpower to stop yourself. Much like the ‘incident’ earlier in the day.

‘I’m going to take that as a yes.’ Alex huffs, not in anger, but in frustration - frustration that he wasn’t there to help, to calm you down. ‘Let me clean it up, give me a sec.’

His hand rubs at his eyes, scrunched shut for a moment. There’s dark bags marring his pale skin there - he’s tired too, the long days at the studio beginning to get to him. He goes to move to the bathroom, but you grab his arm with your good hand, gripping it as tight as you can. Don’t leave.

‘No, Al, it’s alright, I’ll sort it.’

But he shakes his head. He doesn’t look happy. Not that you’d expect him to, but…he’s getting frustrated with you, you can tell.

‘You can’t clean yourself up with one hand. Just wait here, alright?’

The inkling is worming its way in now, from your subconscious to your conscious, until it's at the forefront of your mind. He’s angry, he’s disgusted, he’s going to leave. He’s not going to the bathroom, he’s going to the front door so he can get out of here. You’re sure of it. He’ll call Matt or Miles and tell them how crazy you are, how he can’t deal with it any longer.

‘I’m sorry.’ The whisper escapes you and you have to bite the inside of your cheek so no tears will spill. The words are almost silent, your hand dropping Alex’s in defeat.

But Alex turns his head at your weak apology, stopping in his tracks.

‘What? Why -‘

With a jolt, he notices the way you’ve changed - unable to look at him, arms beginning to wrap around yourself, one fist clenched. He knows what’s happening.

‘No, no, love, I’m not angry.’

He’s back at your side in a heartbeat, bringing his hand up to your chest, thumb carefully wiping away the rogue tear that’s tracking a salty path over your cheekbone.

‘I love you. I just want the best for you, alright? I don’t like seeing you hurt, just like I’d fucking hope you wouldn’t like seeing me hurt.’

His face breaks into a sad smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and you realise he’s right - of course he is. You don’t want to see him hurt, but that’s what you’re doing. He’s hurting just from seeing your hand, it’s obvious from the crease in his brow, the usual bright glint of his eyes dulled and flat. Alex has got too much to deal with already, you’re just one extra problem to add to the mix. You don’t want to be his problem. 

And suddenly it’s all coming up to the surface, ready to combust, explode, these emotions that you never really have a grip on. You bottle them up and push them down, so far down that the only way they can escape is through a rush of anger, jagged and uncontrollable. 

But instead of that, you bury your face into Al’s neck and let it out as slowly as you can.

‘I’m sorry, I was angry, I just wanted to feel something. Some pain. I don’t want to make you feel like this. I’m sorry.’

You’re clutching onto the fabric of his dress shirt like your life depends on it, trying to push the thought of how expensive it probably is to the back of your mind. You can’t possibly let go of him - he's the only one you have left.

Alex is steady, your rock in a storm of emotions. He listens, stroking your hair, long fingers threading through the strands to knead at your scalp, knowing it tends to calm you down.

‘You’re alright, I promise. I promise you, love. I know you get angry. I know you. And I know what it’s like to want to feel something, trust me, I’m far from innocent myself, you know I've had some bad times. We can get through it together, or we can be a mess together. I don’t care, as long as we’re together, honest. I’m not going anywhere.’

And the sincerity in his eyes, those familiar bright brown doe eyes, it convinces you. He means it.

You stay like this for a few minutes, your good hand clinging onto Alex’s shirt sleeve, the other grasped tightly (but not too tightly) in Alex’s grip. His right arm is around your waist, pulling you closer, as if in doing so he can pour all of his reassurance, all of his love, directly to your heart. He knows it’s not possible. But he tries anyway. Because he’ll do anything for you. Your Alex.

He helps you clean your hand later, shushing you everytime you wince (though that isn’t often). His hands are steady and confident as he dabs at the cuts with alcohol, wrapping the gauze over your knuckles and securing it with some tape, humming to himself as he works, the steady tune in time with his deft movement. You wonder if it's one of the songs from the new album - some of them he will share with you, some of them he prefers to keep as a surprise for the release. He doesn’t look up until the job is done - and a good job it is too. Alex kisses the bandages gently when he’s done - a silent ‘I love you. I care for you and I love you.’ 

And you smile, a smile that fills your whole body with warmth, a smile that drowns out the demons, if only for a little while. Because how can you not, when you have Alex. He tries his best and so do you - neither of you can ask anymore. You’ll be a mess together. 

‘Let’s order takeaway and watch Blade Runner, eh?’

Or you’ll get through this together.

[nickfowlerrr]

trust me - chapter two

series masterlist

pairing: stucky x curvy!reader (dark!steve/soft!dark steve and bucky/soft!dark bucky)

warnings: not really any for this chapter but this series is dark so again, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. some mentions of paranoia, anxiety, and a previous attack reader experienced. +18 ONLY. (if i’m missing something important pls let me know!)

words: 1.5k

notes: a whole year later, here’s chapter two. i’m so unsure i’ll ever finish this series but i figured, might as well share what i have. this isn’t edited so sorry for any errors!

You slept through dinner time, thoroughly worn out thanks to Bucky who was sleeping right alongside you on the couch, both of you naked as could be. You only woke up when you were suddenly jolted by something, someone.

Steve had arrived at the cabin, unsurprised to find you and Bucky still laying on the couch. He admired your form as you were pressed into Bucky, his arms wrapped around you, unintentionally protecting your decency. A lick of jealousy hit him once again. He scowled at his friend and kicked the back of the couch. Hard.

You startled against Bucky with a gasp as the force of Steve’s kick shoved the couch and would’ve had you rolling off of it if not for Bucky tightening his hold on you instinctively. Looking up, you were met with the dark, piercing blue eyes of Steve. You yelped in surprise, pulling Bucky’s body on top of yours completely to hide beneath him. He sleepily obliged, raising up on a forearm so as not to smoosh you. He turned to face Steve, looking annoyed himself. Steve was supposed to give him a heads up when he landed. He knew you were on even more of a hair trigger lately, not to mention how much you cared for your privacy, and how you were about anyone seeing you in any kind of state you considered vulnerable. It took months before you finally felt close enough with Bucky to show him any kind of vulnerability and he took that seriously. He knew Steve was getting impatient but the last thing he wanted to do was rush you. And he never would have let Steve just walk in on you naked like this. It was bad enough he went ahead with this rushed plan of his before even talking to Bucky about it, sending you out here on your own and only then telling him about it, and now he’s already made you uncomfortable within mere minutes of getting here.

“What happened to calling?” Bucky gruffed.

“I did. You didn’t answer,” he responded. “Either of you.” Steve’s eyes cut to you again as he spoke sharply.

“Alright, well, you wanna give us a minute to get dressed, pal?” Bucky said, just as harsh.

Steve rolled his eyes before he began to walk back out of the room. “Hurry up,” he barked as you watched his retreat.

“Okay, something is seriously up,” you spoke quietly as Bucky let you up off the couch to redress. “He’s obviously pissed off about something..”

“Don’t stress on it, doll,” he told you as he slipped his shirt back on. “Probably just had a rough flight or something.”

You roll your eyes as you finish putting your clothes back on and then wait.

Bucky leaves you for just a minute to go get Steve so you can all finally get on the same page.

You were fixing the couch when they came into the room.

You pick your head up and meet Steve’s eye instantly before looking over to Bucky and sitting down.

“So, you gonna tell us what the hell is going on now?” you say, sharper than you intended.

The tick of Steve’s jaw alone is telling as your stomach twists.

“The mission’s been compromised.”

You wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t.

“…That’s all you’re gonna say?” you question.

“That’s all I can say.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Bab-” Bucky tries to interject.

“No,” you say standing up in exasperated defiance, shooting your eyes to him before looking back to Steve. “What the fuck is going on here, Steve? Really.”

Bucky crosses his arms and looks to Steve for his answer.

“Look, there’s a lot I can’t tell you right now,” he says, suspiciously sending an annoyed look to Bucky as he does. “But believe me, you’ll know everything soon enough. The three of us are gonna be here for a while, though. There’s nothing we can or have to do right now, so let’s just enjoy the down time while we have it. I promise you I have everything under control, and when there’s something you need to know, you’ll know it.”

You didn’t realize how close he had gotten while he spoke until his hand came down reassuringly on your shoulder, sending an unexplained chill through you.

“Alright?” he follows up. Your eyes fall to his hand still on you before you look away, keeping your face down.

“Yeah,” you answer, though your tone makes it clear you aren’t satisfied with his explanation, or lack thereof.

His hand slowly drops from your shoulder before he squeezes your arm lightly and turns away.

“I’m gonna go get settled,” he announces before sending another sharp look to Bucky. “Buck,” he says with a nod of his head.

You watch the two of them go and then check the time. It’s a little past eight. You briefly consider starting something for dinner, but the uneasy feeling still gnaws at you and your focus just isn’t on cooking right now.

Instead, you go to the laundry room and grab the clean bedding, taking it back upstairs to your room to make the bed.

It doesn’t take you very long, and you decide to clean yourself up and start getting ready for bed, despite the fact that you’d just slept for five hours.

You wash off in the shower quickly and by the time Bucky comes into the room, you’re dried and in your pajamas.

“Hey,” he says as he approaches you, looking... off. You can’t quite put a finger on what it is or why.

“Hi,” you respond, instinctively wrapping your arms around him as he returns the gesture. “You okay?”

He picks you up with ease and you hold tighter to him. No matter how many times he does it, you’re always terrified one day he’s gonna drop you.

“Yeah,” he mumbles against your skin as he buries his face in your neck before taking you to the bed and easing you down to sit on the edge. He gets on his knees in front of you and rests his head in your lap as you play with his hair.

“You sure about that?” you prod gently.

“Yeah, I just. I get what you were saying last night. It’s not the same when Steve’s here. Not that I don’t want him here,” he quickly corrects himself, “it’s just different.”

“No, I know what you mean,” you assure him as you run your fingers through his hair, your nails lightly scratching his scalp before you urge him to look up at you. “But no matter what, we’re still here together,” you smile softly as you gaze into his dreamy blues, “and that’s all that matters.”

Bucky leans up to kiss you gently, taking your face delicately in his strong hands as he deepens it before he has to pull away to allow you both some air.

“I love you, doll, you know that?”

“I know, Buck. I love you more.”

Bucky grins, “I don’t think that’s even possible,” he argues playfully as he gets up and pushes you gently down on the bed, eliciting a delicate laugh from you as he crawls on top and begins attacking with kisses and teasing touches.

A knock on the bedroom door gets your attention as Bucky begrudgingly parts from you, allowing you to sit up as he goes to open the door for Steve.

“I’m gonna make something to eat, you guys hungry?” he asks, his earlier anger and irritation seemingly gone now.

“Yeah,” Bucky responds for both of you, “We’ll be right down.”

You hear Steve walk away and then listen to his heavy steps as he goes downstairs.

You look at Bucky petulantly.

“What?” he asks with a huffed laugh.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You haven’t eaten since lunch, you can’t just skip meals. ‘S not good for you,” he says, taking your hand and tugging you off the bed. You follow him reluctantly.

As you leave the room, you stop at the top of the stairs, tugging Bucky’s hand a bit.

He turns and looks down at you, waiting for you to speak.

“Seriously, nothing about this seems off to you?” you ask in earnest.

Bucky blinks, taking in your words before you watch him swallow a little thickly. He takes both your hands in his and gives you a half smile.

“Baby,” he starts, bringing one of your hands to his lips and kissing it gently, “you’re okay. We’re okay. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

His sincerity eases you just slightly as you sigh and nod, a rush of guilt coming over you for being so paranoid. You’re probably stressing him out for no real reason.

You want to explain yourself, the sudden urge to tell him everything about that night, the attack, the true reason you were so on edge lately - well, more so than normal.. - to tell him all of it, was strong.

But you couldn’t do it right now.

You’d tell him later, after you ate and you two were alone again.

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

saw you might be taking requests? can you do a drabble where y/n is a survivor of domestic abuse and levi ends up raising his voice at some point and y/n gets triggered and levi comforts them? pls skip if ur uncomfortable with this!

absolutely LOVE that my very first aot request is heavy angst

You're Safe | Levi Hurt/Comfort Oneshot

✧ word count ➼ 1.6k (i think this word count is just my standard at this point lmao) ✧ content/warnings: mentions of abuse, panic attacks, dissociation, canon!verse, reader is a survivor of domestic abuse, levi being comforting in his levi way, all the not fun stuff that comes with being a survivor, please let me know if i missed any trigger warnings! ✧ notes ➼ I know that everyone's experience with being a survivor is vastly different. If you would like it portrayed in a different way, feel free to send me another ask and I will try my best to match it :) Not sure if this needs to be said, but if you ever need support or solidarity, my ask is always open!

You could tell that something was off the minute he walked in through the door. 

While Levi was rarely in a “good” mood after expeditions, you could tell that this most recent one must have gone much worse than anticipated. It was already getting late into the night and your anxiety was already elevated, having been waiting for Levi to arrive back home all day. The debrief must have taken much, much longer than usual, which was never a good sign.

You came out of your study to meet him in the living room, your heart dropping when you saw the dark look on his face and how ruffled his uniform and hair was. 

“Levi?” you asked quietly as you approached him. 

You could tell that he was exhausted and incredibly stressed at the same time. He looked like he was about to collapse down onto the ground and that it was taking all his energy to keep going.

You reached out slowly and placed your hand on his arm, gently holding him. 

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” he grumbled, shrugging you off. “Just a long day.”

You gave him a small, half-hearted smile, knowing that it was definitely not “just a long day”. However, you knew that it took Levi much longer than a normal person to process distress and decompress and given the fact that he was in the Scouts and took regular deadly expeditions outside of the walls, distress was a constant in his life.

“You know that’s not true,” you said quietly, turning towards him as he walked past you. “Talk to me, Levi.”

He stopped walking and you heard a soft sigh come from his mouth. 

“Not now, _____.”

You frowned at him, knowing that “not now” easily translated to “not at all”. Although you knew to give him space, you also knew that if he went to bed in distress tonight, then he would wake up even worse tomorrow, which would make him detach even more, leading into an endless cycle of self-destruction and stonewalling.

“Levi, please,” you said, approaching him again. “What happened? Talk to me.”

He stopped walking and quickly glanced at you with irritation showing in his eyes.

“I said not now, _____!” he yelled out, a bit louder than he had intended to.

You felt yourself flinch and freeze as your blood ran cold. The sudden and drastic change from near silence to his voice bouncing off the walls immediately brought your mind from the present reality and into a dissociative state as you felt your eyes lose focus and your ability to perceive the room around you began to dissipate. Your breathing destabilized as you took a step back away from him.

Given your current state, you weren’t able to see Levi’s eyes widen as he realized what had just happened. You couldn’t see his face pale upon seeing your reaction. You couldn’t see him walking towards you as you quickly turned away, maintaining distance from him. You couldn’t see him open his mouth to speak or hear any words that were meant to come out after.

“I need to go to the restroom,” you muttered quickly as you rushed to the bathroom in the most composed way that you could, as tears began to cloud your vision.

Once you were in the bathroom, you shut the door behind you and leaned over the sink, unable to keep the tears back any longer. You shut your eyes as disturbing memories, ones that you thought you had stored away for good, emerged. You shook your head in an attempt to get them to go away and took a sharp inhale, your breath getting caught in your throat. You vaguely heard that your sobbing was audible due to your unsteady breathing and you quickly covered your mouth in an attempt to muffle yourself.

You felt the world begin to spin around you as you cursed at yourself in frustration. You didn’t understand why you were like this. What had happened was a long time ago. You knew that Levi wasn’t that person. You knew that he wouldn’t hurt you. You knew that, even when he was frustrated, he would never take his anger out on you. 

So why the hell do I still feel this way?!

You opened your eyes again once you heard a gentle knock on the bathroom door with it slightly opening since you hadn’t closed it all the way. You saw Levi approaching from the other side of the door and you immediately looked away, quickly wiping the tears off your face in a vain attempt to keep him from seeing your crying, although there was no hiding your swollen eyes or how red your nose had become from sniffling.

There was a solemn look on Levi’s usually expressionless face. He knew what was running through your head. He knew about the rampant thoughts that must have been plaguing your mind. His heart had dropped once he saw your reaction, but at that point, it was too late to take back what had just happened.

“Hey, _____,” he said, his voice gentle and soft.

You continued to look away, averting eye contact. 

“I’m fine, Levi,” you said with a flat tone, desperately trying to mask your vulnerable state.

You saw him place his hand down on the sink near you without actually making physical contact.

“Can I come closer?” he asked, still keeping his voice low, never taking his eyes off you.

You were quiet for a second as you continued to try to control the tears that were gathering in the corners of your eyes again. You shakily nodded at him as you slowly turned towards him again.

He slowly approached you, pausing for a second before gently placing his hands on your shoulders. He had approached you slowly, noticing that you slightly flinched again when he raised his hands. The most important thing to him right now was to ground you back to the present moment, and indicate that there was no danger.

After he felt you slightly relax upon his touch, he pulled you into a tight hug, placing his hand at the back of your head to hold you in as you buried your face into his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to you. “I shouldn’t have raised my voice.”

Upon hearing that, you weren’t able to hold your tears back anymore as you gripped at him, with your sobs becoming audible. You pressed your face against him, as if you were desperately trying to hide.

“N-No,” you said quietly, with your voice slightly muffled. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I still act like this. I don’t want you to feel like I don’t t-trust you or that I’m afraid of you or that I-”

“Stop,” he whispered, cutting you off. “It’s okay.”

He gently ran his fingers through your hair in an attempt to soothe and comfort you, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

You continued to press yourself against him. Although you were still sobbing and soaking his shirt with tears, your breathing had stabilized and you no longer felt like there was a storm tearing through your mind.

You both stood there for a minute as he continued to soothe you and ground you back into the present. 

Once he heard you take a deep breath, he spoke again.

“Come,” he said quietly, pulling away slightly, and gently directing you out of the bathroom and into the living room, leading you to the couch.

He sat down, pulling you in as you followed suit. 

You curled yourself into a ball, resting your head against his chest, taking comfort in the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat and the warm touch of you leaning against him. You still felt incredibly embarrassed from getting so heavily triggered and continued to hide your face in him.

After a few minutes of silence, you finally took another deep breath and pulled away slightly to look up at him.

“I’m sorry,” you said, wiping away any residual tears that had gathered on your cheeks. “I feel pathetic.”

He looked at you, his eyebrows slightly coming together as worry entered his eyes at your statement.

“Well, you don’t have to, but I know it’s hard,” he said quietly, gently brushing his fingers against your cheek and tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear so that he could see your face better. “It’s okay.”

He placed his other hand on your waist, giving you a gentle squeeze as a method of reassuring you of his prolonged presence.

You gripped at his shirt to ground yourself. You were here with Levi. The person you lived with currently was not your abuser. The person you found yourself being held by was someone that loved you unconditionally, in the best way that you wanted to be loved. This person cared and would never bring harm to you. You knew that. 

Slowly, a small smile appeared on your face as you parted your lips to speak again.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He returned the smile, pulling you into a gentle kiss that lasted for more than a few seconds. 

You allowed yourself to relish in his scent, his touch, the sound of his breathing, the feeling of his hands against you, and how, despite him being relatively small as a person, you felt engulfed by him, as if his presence was able to wash away all of the chaos that resided in your mind.

He pulled and rested his forehead on yours.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered, matching your volume. “You’re safe.”

[devilat-thedoor]

Hands to Yourself Pt5

🤍Oh Babes🤍

Only gonna preface this one by saying sorry & pls forgive me💖 P.S. HAPPY FUCKING STARCATCHER DAY🤍🤍🤍🤍

Part 4

Word Count: 11.4k

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Warnings: (TRIGGER WARNING! mentions of SA)18+ Minors DNI, a lot of angst and sadness in this part. some fluff, a lil smut. Unprotected Sex, Fighting(verbal & physical). i don’t know, there’s probably more that i’m missing.

And if I ever catch the ones who hurt you, I’m hoping that God looks away this time…

The overhead light illuminated the kitchen as someone flicked the switch. Sage looked up in horror, yanking her hands from Jake like a kid caught in the cookie jar. Jake was taking several steps from her, trying to speak to you. You stared blankly, Odessa’s voice was ringing in your ears as well, but you couldn’t pick up on any of the words. It felt like you were in a fever dream.

Blinking away the tears, your anger came back in full force. “I’ll fucking end you!” You picked up the wine bottle from the island and set your sights on Sage. Just as you reeled your arm back to throw the bottle, someone behind you snatched it from your hand. “You stupid fucking bitch.” You spat the words at her as you lunged across the kitchen towards her. Balling your hand up, you threw a jab, catching her cheek. She brought her hands up to shield her face from your attack. When you went to land another hit, your knuckles connected with her nose before a pair of arms wrapped around your shoulders, locking your arms at your side. You flailed and kicked, “Let go of me! LET GO!” You screamed at whoever was holding onto you. Josh.

His soft, even voice broke through the cloud of rage, “Y/N, calm down for a second…”

You wriggled out of his grip, turning to face him. “Don’t tell me to fucking calm down!” You shoved Josh’s chest and whipped your attention back around to Sage. She tried to tuck herself behind Sam to hide but when he saw your face, he stepped aside, giving you full access to her. “You’re a fucking snake!” You picked up the closest thing on the island, a glass, and chucked it at her. She ducked away just in time, the cup colliding with the wall and shattering.

She held her hands up, a pleading tone in her voice. “He wanted it! It wasn’t just me, Y/N!”

Your face twisted in disgust as you inched closer to her, “He wanted it?” Your eyes flashed to Jake, his eyes wide as he opened his mouth to speak. You didn’t give him the chance. “I don't know what kind of shit goes on in that convoluted mind of yours…” Your face was mere centimeters from hers as you spit your venom soaked words at her, “You fucking took advantage of him!” Your palm cracked across her face, the sound echoing through the room. Everyone stared in stunned silence as you grabbed her hair, dragging her through the kitchen and into the living room. “Get the fuck out of my house.” Shoving the back of her head, you released her hair. “Sage, I swear to god, if I ever see your face again… Stay away from me and stay the fuck away from Jake.”

She turned to look at you as she walked backwards towards the front hallway, blood dripping from her nose and the corner of her mouth. “It won’t be much longer before he realizes he doesn’t want you…” The threat left her mouth with an evil smirk as she slipped through the front door, closing it behind her.

When you turned back around, you were met with a slew of cautious faces. Nobody made a sound, afraid of what you might do. Your breath was leaving your lungs in angry huffs as you pushed past the crowded doorway and back into the kitchen. “Where is Jake?” You half yelled when he wasn’t in the spot he had previously been in.

Odessa’s hand landed on your shoulder. “Babe, hey. Take a breath for-” You cut her off, ripping your body from her touch.

“If one more of you tell me to fucking relax, I-” You paused, taking a deep breath, “Get the fuck out.” Your finger shot in the direction of the door as you shouted at the group. “All of you get out of my fucking house. Please.” None of them made a move, except for Josh. He came up, placing his hand on your back in what was meant to be a soothing manner, but it only fueled your anger more. You pulled away from him, slamming your fist into the refrigerator door. “FUCK!” You didn’t give anybody else the chance to say anything as you stormed out of the kitchen.

Heading for your bedroom in search of your boyfriend, you stopped when you noticed the bathroom door cracked, a glimmer of light seeping through the small opening. You stepped closer, hearing a quiet sob. Pushing through the door, you found Jake. He was in a heap on the floor in front of the toilet, his body shaking with ragged cries and unsteady breaths. You shut the door behind you and dropped to the floor beside him. “Jake, baby…” You tugged on his arm, pulling him up from the cold tiles. “Honey, look at me, please. Are you okay?” Using your hoodie sleeve, you wiped the vomit from the corner of his mouth.

His bloodshot eyes were full of sorrow, matching the rest of his tear-soaked face. “I’m so- I’m so sorry.” His words choked out through hiccups and cries. You felt your own tears begin to fall at the state he was in. “I didn’t-... You have to-” You cupped his face as he struggled to say what he wanted to, wiping away his tears as they flowed. “Y/N…” Your name ripped from his throat in the form of a sob. It was the most heart wrenching sound you’d ever heard.

“Jake, no…” You pulled him against you, holding him tight to your chest. He tucked his knees into his chest and curled into you, so vulnerable and childlike. You knew the alcohol in his system was amplifying his emotions, but you’d never seen him like this. The pain you felt multiplied with every whimper he made. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Jacob. Do you hear me?” You brushed your hands over his hair, wanting nothing more than to comfort and console him. This was your fault. You let her into your lives. Into your relationship. You fucked up and Jake had paid the price for it. When you heard his breathing start to even out, you spoke in the softest voice, “Baby, can I take you to bed, please?” His eyes were half shut as he looked up at you, giving a nod. You stood up, helping Jake to his feet with you. You kept a grip on his waist as you led him out of the bathroom, surprised to find that everyone had really left upon your request.

Pushing your bedroom door open, you shuffled Jake inside and sat him on the edge of the bed. “Can I take these off of you, Jake?” You gestured to his swim trunks. He mumbled an approval, lifting from the bed and allowing you to pull the swimsuit down his legs. “Just stand here for a second longer, baby.” You went to his dresser to grab a pair of boxers and returned, helping him put them on. “Get into bed, Jakey.” You peeled the duvet back and he slipped in, nestling against the pillows and closing his eyes. You pulled the blanket over him and turned to leave the room and clean up the mess in the kitchen.

Jake’s hand caught your wrist in a loose grasp. “Please don’t leave me.” His voice was so dejected. “I can’t lose you…” He trailed off, quiet snores leaving his mouth as it hung open.

You chewed on your trembling lip, as the tears began streaming down your face. He thinks you’re mad at him? You watched his face as he slept, silently crying to yourself. Crawling into bed behind him, you snuck one arm under his neck and draped the other around his torso, resting your palm flat on his chest. Right over his steadily beating heart. You pressed your lips to his back, letting them linger there for a bit. You knew he was in a deep slumber. Nothing was going to wake him until the morning, but you still whispered to him, “You’ll never lose me, Jake.”

________________________________________________

The morning came fast. Unsure of what time you had fallen asleep, you awoke with a slight pounding in your head. Your hand slid over the bed, reaching for your boyfriend out of habit, only to find you were alone. You sat up to check the time on your phone, but it wasn’t in its usual spot on your nightstand. Remembering that it never came to bed with you, the memories from the night before flooded your brain like a tsunami. Your feet were dragging you from the bed and out of the room before your brain could comprehend the movements. Where is he? Stepping into the hallway, you opened your mouth to call his name but closed it as your ears caught the soft notes of the acoustic strings floating through the air. You followed the sound to the spare bedroom where the door sat opened. Lingering in the doorway, you watched Jake, sat in the dark burgundy, tufted leather chair, picking out a somber melody on his guitar.

The floor creaked beneath you, alerting him of your presence. He looked up at you, “Hey…” His tone was low, as though he was scared. You noticed his eyes first, still red, still carrying that same sad look.. He pulled his lips in and looked down at his fingers, resting on the strings. You took a few steps forward, wanting nothing more than to hold him but when his face turned back to you, it halted you in your tracks. His expression was pained as a tear slid down his cheek, dripping from his chin and onto the guitar. “I thought she was you.” He kept his voice quiet, wiping his cheek with the back of his hand. “I was too drunk… I swear I didn’t know. I would’ve never-”

“Jake,” You took the acoustic from his hand and laid it on the floor as you knelt in front of him. “That’s the point. You were drunk. Baby, I am not mad at you… You did nothing wrong.” You held his hands in yours as you spoke. “Do you understand me?”

He dropped his gaze to the floor. “I can’t stop picturing your face when you came into the kitchen. The hurt… Betrayal.” He took a shaky breath, “It made me sick… The thought that I caused it.”

Grabbing his face, you forced his attention back to you. “Baby, look at me. I need you to really hear what I’m about to say.” You waited for his eyes to connect with yours and spoke in a calming voice, “You did not cause me any hurt, Jake. She took advantage of you.” You couldn’t bring yourself to say her name, but you continued, “You were drunk and she used that to her convenience. What she did was assault. Do you understand that?”

Jake leaned into your touch, his eyes falling shut for a moment. “I should’ve known better. I did know better.” His tone was becoming slightly frantic. “It didn’t feel right. I knew something was wrong. If I would’ve just trusted my gut, this wouldn’t have happened.” He pulled away, flopping back into the chair with a huff.

“Jacob enough!” Your outburst startled him and you quickly regained your composure, bringing your voice back down, “Stop blaming yourself. You’re the victim here, Jake..” Grabbing his hand again, you hauled him out of the chair and wrapped your arms around him. “This is my fault. I led her straight into our lives. I let her manipulate me and feed me her bullshit lies. I gave her exactly what she wanted and you wound up being collateral damage. I’m so sorry, baby. I will spend the rest of my life proving to you how sorry I am.”

He let his arms circle your back, holding you to him as he placed a kiss to the top of your head. “There was know way to tell what kind of person she was gonna turn out to be…” You chewed on your lip as he spoke into your hair, “It’s over now. She’s out of our lives and you made sure of that last night from what Josh told me.”

You looked up at him then, your brows knitted together. “You talked to Josh? When?”

“This morning. I went to get a drink of water and saw the shattered glass on the kitchen floor.” His hand rubbed mindlessly up and down your back, “I started to remember a little of everything… Called Josh to fill in the blanks while I cleaned up the glass. He said that you dragged her out of the house by her hair after I went to the bathroom.”

Thinking back on the scene, you remembered her parting words, ‘It won’t be much longer…’ An unsettling feeling arose in your chest as you pictured the sinister smile on her face. You laid your head on his chest, allowing the sound of his heart to soothe your anxiety “I don’t think she’ll let go that easily, Jake…”

______________________________________________________

It had been a couple weeks since the day of the cookout. Things were starting to feel normal again. The remaining days of your week off were spent mostly alone, in the house, with Jake. Josh popped in once or twice to check on his twin, but neither you or Jake had the energy or patience to be social. When you went back to work, the days seemed shorter. Business was great, but you weren’t as short staffed as you had been and it was a huge relief. It was about 10:30 on a Wednesday morning in mid July and you were on your way to the garage to get the truck and start your work day. As you pulled your car into its spot in the alleyway, your phone pinged with a notification. You shut the engine off and grabbed the phone from the cupholder, seeing the little pink camera icon.

Instagram: New Message Request

Unhooking your seatbelt, you clicked on the notification and waited for it to load. You began gathering your things to get out of the car as the thumbnail for a video appeared on the screen. You looked at the username at the top of the page, not recognizing it, and stepped out, closing the driver side door and hitting the button to lock the car. Tapping on the thumbnail you stood and watched. The video had no sound and it was dark, you couldn’t make out anything aside from shadows. Assuming it was some kind of joke, you made a move to click out of it but something stopped you as your finger went to slide out of the app. There was a flash of something that caught your eye. A face. Your face. You pulled the phone closer to your eyes to watch, searching for a hint of what this was. The pixelation proved that the video was taken from afar and zoomed in to capture the moment. You were asleep, laying on someone. The camera panned over the person beneath you. Jake? The blurry lens played a cruel trick as the camera drifted upwards to show the mess of matted curls. Josh. “What the hell?” You whispered to yourself as whoever was operating the video zoomed out, revealing that they were on the outside of a window looking in at you and Josh. From the new point of view, you could see your limp body draped over Josh’s, your head on his bare chest and a blanket pulled over the two of you. A mirror image of how you and Jake had slept on the couch together just a few weeks ago. Then it was over, the 40 second video restarting and playing on a loop. When you closed the video to reveal the message thread, there was a text. ‘One isn’t enough… You had to have all three? What will Jake say?’ Your thoughts were swimming, trying to process what this was. One isn’t enough? Why did that sound familiar? A chill creeped through your body. You knew this had to be the same person who sent Jake that picture of you and Sam. You were terrified at the thought that there was somebody out there, watching you from a distance. But what scared you even more is that you had no recollection of the night this video had been taken. You didn’t have an innocent story to explain this one to Jake. What will he say?

Closing Instagram, you opened your phone up to find Ally’s contact info. There was no way you would be able to focus on the truck today with this happening. She picked up on the third ring, “Hello? Y/N?”

“Ally, I know it’s your day off, but is there any way you can run the truck today?” She was the only person you trusted enough to handle your business when you were sick or, in this case, had an emergency. “I’ll give you Friday off, I just- Something personal came up that needs my attention.”

You could hear her yawn on her end, “Yeah, that’s no problem. Can you give me like 20 minutes to throw some clothes on and I’ll meet you at the garage?”

“Okay, yeah. Great. Thank you so much, Ally. I’ll see you soon.” You hung up the phone, breathing out a sigh of relief. Small problem handled… You stared down at the phone in your hand, contemplating whether to bite the bullet and call Jake or wait until you got home to talk about it in person. Before you could make a decision, your ringtone sounded, causing you to jump. There was his name, as if just thinking about him had manifested him. You stared at it, anxiety coursing through your body, wondering if he had gotten the same message. If he was calling to tear into you about the video. Your hands shook as you pressed the green button and brought the phone to your ear. “Hello?” Your voice came out almost too quietly and you cleared your throat, repeating the greeting, “Hello? Jake?”

“Hey, love.” His tone was light and sweet, catching you off guard. “I’m sorry I overslept this morning. I didn’t get the chance to kiss you goodbye.” When you didn’t say anything, he continued the one sided conversation. “Uhhh. Anyways, I just wanted to thank you for having a fresh pot of coffee ready for me and see if you wanted to go out for dinner tonight?” You were picking at the skin on your lip, too lost in your own head to hear what he was saying. His voice came through louder, “Y/N, Are you there?”

You blinked, giving your head a slight shake to clear it, “Yeah, I’m here. I’m sorry, baby. What were you saying?”

“Uh. I- I was asking if you wanted to go out for dinner tonight…Are you okay?”

“I’m okay. Umm…Actually, I’m gonna be back home in like, a half hour.” Your mouth felt dry as you spoke, “I’m just waiting on Ally to get here.”

You could hear the concern in Jake’s voice, “Are you sick? What’s wrong?”

The situation was starting to make you feel sick. “N-No. I got a- We just need to talk, that’s all.”

“Talk about what, Y/N?”

Ally was pulling in then, putting her car in park beside yours. “Jake, Ally just got here, I’ll see you at home. I love you.” He didn’t get the chance to respond before you hung up the phone. Shoving the device into your back pocket, you greeted Ally, “I’m so sorry for this being last minute, but I appreciate you more than you know.” You fumbled with your keys, struggling to remove the ring that held the keys for the garage and the truck.

She waved you off, “Girl, It’s no problem at all. Is everything okay?”

Finally pulling the loop free, you placed the keys in her palm with a heavy sigh. “I’m not entirely sure, honestly.” You gave a tight smile, “If there are any issues today, just give me a call. I’ll have my phone on me. Just make it an early day and I’ll meet you back here at four to get the keys and lock up, okay?” She gave a nod of understanding. “Thank you so much for this, Ally, really.” You gave a final wave as you got back into your car and pulled out of the space.

______________________________________________________

Entering the house felt odd. It was eerily quiet. You left your keys on the hook and slipped your shoes off to walk into the living room. Jake was sitting on the edge of the couch, chewing on his fingernails while his legs bounced rapidly. He was on edge. His demeanor, a stark contrast to the sweetness he’d had on the phone with you. Maybe he was just as anxious as you were? But you weren’t sure how his mood would shift once he learned about the message you got. You approached him slowly. “Jake…”

His head shot up, but his body moved faster. He was standing in front of you in a flash, holding your shoulders. “What’s going on? Did something happen to you? Was it her? Did Sa-”

You threw your hands up with a cringe, stopping him from saying her name. “Can we sit down, please. I need to show you something.”

“Yeah, okay.” He pulled you to the couch, allowing you to take a seat before he followed suit. “What is it?”

Studying him for a moment as his foot tapped on the floor, you wondered what had happened between the time you’d gotten off the phone with him to now. You could tell he was growing impatient with your hesitation. “That message that you got a few weeks ago… from the random Instagram account…” Opening up the thread on your phone, you handed it to him, “I got one this morning.” You didn’t elaborate any further, just let him watch for himself.

He clicked the play button and you watched his expressions morph as the video progressed. Confusion. Apprehension. Realization. He watched the loop play over and over for what felt like an eternity. When he finally pushed it out of the way, he saw the message that came with it. “What the fuck is this, Y/N?”

His tone had you nervous as you stammered for something to say. “I don’t know. It’s just- I-“

“You don’t know? Why were you with my brother like that, Y/N?” The growing volume of his voice made you flinch. “Did you sleep with him?”

Your eyes blew wide. How could he think that? “Jacob…” You felt like you were going to pass out.

When you didn’t answer his question, he asked it again. “Did you fuck Josh?!”

“NO JAKE!” You raised your voice right back at him but he wasn’t phased. “Why would you even ask me that?” He trusted you. Didn’t he? “Jake, I didn’t sleep with your brother! With either of them, for fucks sake.”

“Then tell me what’s going on here,” He shoved the phone back into your hands, “Because this is painting a pretty fucking specific picture.”

Unshed tears burned in the corners of your eyes, “I don’t know, Jake. I don’t remember this. I-“

He cut you off, standing up to pace the living room. “You don’t remember? So you don’t even know if you slept with him or not?” You’d never seen him blow up like this. Not at you. He never directed his anger at you, never yelled at you, even when you deserved it.

You felt so small, intimidated by his booming voice and accusations. But still, you stood your ground “I would never, Jake. You know that. You know me!” Your tears were flowing freely now as you stood to meet him. “I would never even dream of cheating on you, I told you that! I don’t want anybody but you!”

The look on his face was one you could’ve gone your whole life without seeing ever again. The same look he had when he was in pieces on the bathroom floor that night. The anger had dissipated from his tone, carrying a heavy sadness now. His next words cut you like a blade. “You don’t want anybody else, but you wanted her… You fucked her. Brought her into our bed…” It was a low blow and he knew it, but he still put the cherry on top, “I’m not enough for you, am I?”

He was already backing away from you, towards the door. “Baby, please…” You were crying hard, chasing after him. “Jake, don’t leave. Please.” You couldn’t get a response out of him, he wouldn’t even look at you as he put his shoes on and pulled the door open. “I love you…” The last three words hung in the air as he slammed the heavy door shut in your face, leaving you to clean up the mess you’d made of your relationship. Why is this happening…

You sunk to the floor, staring at the door. The wall he put up between the two of you. A barrier to protect himself from you. From the hurt that you keep causing him. You buried your head in your hands, sobbing in the cold silence of your home. He just left. He wouldn’t hear you out. You couldn’t blame him, though. This was so much worse than the photo he’d received of you and his little brother. At least you could explain that one. But this? You went back to the couch to get your phone. You sat, watching the video loop play, trying to find any kind of context that may be there. Nothing. You called Jake, ready to beg him to just come back home. Come back to you. He wouldn’t answer, but you kept trying. Call after call, text after text. After an hour, you gave up and called Josh, maybe he would have some kind of insight on the video. No answer. So you texted him.

You 12:42pm: need to talk to you. something happened, Jake left and he won’t answer my calls

His response came almost immediately.

Joshy 12:44pm: He’s here

You 12:45pm: at your house? i’m coming now.

You rushed to put your shoes on and head out the door when another text came through.

Joshy 12:47pm: don’t come. he needs to cool down.

You hit the phone icon at the top of the screen, calling Josh’s number again only to be met with the voicemail. He stopped returning your texts. There was nothing you could do. If you went to Josh’s, you ran the risk of pushing Jake further away from you. The thought was terrifying. You trudged mindlessly through the house, doing little tasks to keep your mind busy, until there was nothing left. So you sat, planted on the couch, staring into space while time ticked by. Only snapping out of your trance when your phone pinged on the cushion beside you. A text from Ally, letting you know she was on her way back to the garage. Almost 4 hours had gone by since Jake walked out the door. You hauled yourself off of the couch to go meet Ally. The only motivation being that he might be here by the time you got back…

________________________________________________

7:56pm. He’s not coming home.

You called him when you’d gotten back from the garage. No answer. Called again before your shower at 6pm. Nothing. You sat on the edge of your bed, on Jake’s side, and clicked his contact. Just one more try. You listened as it rang, willing him to answer. To just hear his voice, to know that he’s okay, that he’s safe, that was all you needed. But the voicemail was all there was.

You grabbed Jake’s pillow, hugging it to you as you slid down to the carpeted floor. Pressing your face to the soft fabric, you breathed in, inhaling the lingering scent of him. Hot tears spilled over your lashes and onto the pillow. You were beginning to lose hope that he’d come back to you. Maybe this was a fuck up you couldn’t make up for. Laying on the floor, curled into the fetal position, you cried into the pillow. Your chest was on fire with your ragged breathing, eyes swollen and bloodshot. You let everything out until there was nothing left. Until your body gave in to the dismal exhaustion and you eventually passed out.

“Y/N…” His voice echoed in your head. You could feel his touch, his hand so gentle on your back, in your dream. “Baby, wake up.” The words were so clear, so warm, as if he was here. Like he never left. Your body shook, startling you. Your eyes snapped open to see Jake, kneeling in front of you. It’s not a dream… He’s here. He came home. “Why are you on the floor, love?”

You sat up, throwing your body into his, hugging him, holding him. You needed to be sure this was real, not some sick joke your mind was playing on you. “You came back.” You whispered the words into his shirt, clinging to him as though he’d float away if you let go. And you still weren’t entirely sure that he wouldn’t. “I didn’t think you’d come home… back to me.”

He pressed his lips together, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “Come sit with me, we need to talk.” He stood up, taking your hand in his and led you out into the living room. You didn’t open your mouth to speak, afraid that you might upset him again. He sat you on the couch and retreated to the kitchen. Your nerves were causing your hands to shake and you rubbed them up and down your legs to make it stop. “Here, my love.” Jake’s return startled you, but what caught you even more off guard was his soft tone. The use of your pet name. A complete 180 from the last time he’d spoken to you, just hours ago.

You blinked up at him as he held a glass of wine out to you. You were cautious as you took the glass from his hand, unsure of what was about to unfold. You dropped your eyes to floor, “Jake, I-”

He cut you off, sitting down beside you, “No. Me first.” He took a long drink from his glass. “I acted like an ass this morning. I’m sorry, Y/N, you didn’t deserve that.” You chewed the inside of your cheek, listening to him. “I got freaked out when you said that you were coming home and we needed to talk. I didn’t know what to expect. While I waited for you to get here, I got a weird message and then you came in and showed me that video and I didn’t know what to think.”

You looked at him then, placing your glass on the coffee table. “Jake, I can’t offer an explanation for that video. I may not remember it, but I know in my heart that I did not cheat on you. I didn’t sleep with Josh.” You took a deep, shaky breath, “I know how bad it looks…But If you don’t have trust for me then-“

“No, I do trust you.” He grabbed your hand, pulling you towards him. “And I know you didn’t sleep with him, he told me.” You allowed yourself to lean into his side and hear him out, “I went straight to his place when I left, told him about the video. I described it to him without having the actual thing to show him and he knew exactly what I was talking about.”

“He knew about the video?”

“Not the video, just the night in question.” He rubbed his thumb over your palm as he continued, “It was earlier this year. When you thought the house was haunted.” He said it with a chuckle. You thought back, remembering little details about that night.

Late March. The winter chill was finally gone, letting the light warmth of spring blanket the atmosphere. Jake left early in the morning with Sam. They had flown home for a few days to do an appearance at one of the local radio stations in their hometown. You were used to being home and sleeping alone, as much as Jake was on tour, so the two nights by yourself were nothing. You crawled into bed that night, calling your boyfriend to tell him goodnight, before laying your head on the pillow and passing out. Something had woken you, but you weren’t sure what it was. You leaned over to check the time on your phone. It was after 12am. You decided to get up to use the bathroom before you tried to go back to sleep. On your way back to bed, you passed the spare bedroom, Jake’s study. You stopped when you heard what sounded like papers being shuffled around. Peeking through the crack in the door, you couldn’t make anything out in the darkness. As you gripped the knob to push the door open further, you were startled by the sound of shattering glass, causing you to run back to your room, slamming the door shut and locking it. You picked your phone up and called Jake and tucked yourself in the far corner of the bed, furthest from the door.

“Baby…?” His voice was groggy and sleep ridden. You’d woken him up.

“Jake? Something is happening in the house.”

He was more alert after hearing your frantic tone. “What do you mean? Are you okay?”

“I think our house is haunted, Jake. There’s a ghost!” You stared at the door, realizing how ridiculous you sounded.

You heard him groan through the phone, “Y/N… You woke me up in the middle of the night because you think there’s a ghost in the house?” He paused, waiting for you to respond, but you stayed quiet. “Okay, my love… Why- What happened…” He patiently listened to you tell him what you’d heard. “Do you hear anything else?”

You chewed on your lip for a moment, quietly listening for any sound. “No…” You stood up from the bed and tiptoed to the door, “I’m gonna go look.”

Now Jake’s tone was frantic, “Be careful! Someone could’ve broken in.”

You stopped in your tracks, “Don’t say that, Jake! I’m here by myself!” Your hands were shaking. “I didn’t even think of that… What if there’s someone out there?!”

“Baby, just stay in the room, I’m gonna call Josh to come check on everything.”

“Okay…”

You stood in the middle of the room, waiting for him to call you back. A text came instead. ‘On the phone with Josh. he’s on his way.’

Fourteen minutes had gone by. You were chewing on your fingernails when you heard footsteps coming down the hallway.

“Y/N? It’s me.” You pulled the door open to find Josh. “I don’t think there’s anybody here…” He was rubbing his eyes, clearly sleepy, and still on the phone with his twin.

“Did you check the spare bedroom?”

He turned in the direction of the room and started down the hallway. You followed and watched as he pushed the door open and flicked the light on, revealing one of the crystal whiskey glasses, in pieces, on the floor in front of the liquor cabinet that sat below a window. Josh bent down to pick up the chunks of glass, examining them. “It must’ve just been sitting too close to the edge.” He gave a shrug, tossing the pieces into the small trash can by the chair. “There’s nobody here, Y/N. And no ghosts either…” He ushered you out of the room and walked you back to your own bedroom, speaking into the phone. “Yeah, man. There’s nobody here, the doors are locked.”

You looked up at Josh, “I don’t wanna stay here… Not by myself.”

He rubbed his hand over his face, listening to his brother talk on the other end. “Yeah… I can… Okay… See you tomorrow.” You stared at him as he hung up the phone, a questioning look on your face. “Jake wants me to take you back to my place. He’s gonna catch the first flight back in the morning. You nodded in compliance, happy to get out of your creepy home. When you got back to Josh’s, he’d made you a bed on the couch and you fell asleep almost instantly and Jake was there by the time you woke up in the morning.”

“But I slept on the couch by myself, Josh was in his bed all night…” You looked up at Jake then, “You were there in the morning, you know-.”

He held his hand to stop you, “I know, love.” He kissed the top of your head before divulging the story that Josh had told him. “He said he woke up to you in a fit, having some kind of nightmare? I don’t know… But he tried to wake you up and you just clung to him, whispering my name. You thought he was me. So he let you believe it and just stayed with you until you calmed down and fell back asleep. Once he knew you were out, he got up and went back to his room.”

Your face twisted in confusion, “No… It wasn’t a nightmare.” You shook your head, the pieces falling back together. “No, I remember waking up on his couch. I don’t know what woke me up, but I just remember feeling like I was being watched. I don’t know… I- I don’t remember Josh coming out of his room.” You sat up, turning to face your boyfriend. “Jake, somebody was watching me. Someone has been watching me.” You dropped your head into your hands, scratching your nails over your prickling scalp. “You said you got a message…” Recalling his statement from earlier in the conversation, you picked your head up to look at him. “What was it?”

He set his own glass down, fishing his phone out of his pocket. “It came from some text app number, I can only assume it’s the same person sending the Instagram messages.” He held the device out to you. “I wasn’t sure what it meant. But since you got that video, I guess…” He trailed off, as you took the phone.

You looked at his face before turning your attention to the screen. The green text bubble was taunting you as you scanned the message. ‘Don’t let her act innocent. She’s keeping secrets from you.’ You huffed an exasperated sigh, “Secrets? What secrets?”

“Baby…” Jake’s tone was cautious, as though he was afraid to say what he was thinking. “Do you think this is Sage?”

You sat back against the couch, pondering the idea. Why hadn’t you thought of that? “No.” You shook your head, staring at the floor, “We just met her like a month and a half ago, Jake… I wouldn’t put this past her at this point, but it just doesn’t make sense.” Picking your glass up, you downed the whole thing, letting it wash away as much of your anxiety as it could. “That video is from March. How have I not noticed somebody fucking stalking me?” Your breathing started to pick up and Jake could sense the impending panic attack.

He moved to kneel on the floor in front of you, taking your face in his hands. “Look at me.” He kept his voice soft and calm, “We’ll figure this all out, my love. I promise you.” You leaned into his touch, the feeling that you’d been craving since he left you in the front hallway this morning. “I don’t care what kind of pictures or videos or fucking texts we get… My trust in you will not falter. Not again.” You allowed him to pull your lips to his, kissing you gently. You melted into him, sliding off the couch and into his lap. He held you so carefully, like you were made of gold. When he broke away from your lips, he brushed his nose against yours, “I love you more than anything in this life and the next.” He pressed his lips to your forehead and you closed your eyes, holding onto the feeling of him. As though you may never have this again. “You wanna take a hot bath?” You nodded but didn’t make a move to get up. “Go run the water, I’m gonna refill our glasses.” You pecked his lips one last time before following his instruction.

You stood in the guest bathroom, waiting for the tub to fill up. Jake came in with the two glasses, half full, and the bottle tucked under his arm. He set the bottle and both glasses on the floor beside the bathtub. “Come here, pretty girl.” You let him take the bottom hem of your shirt and pull it over your head before sliding your shorts and panties down your legs. “Get in.” He held your hand for balance as you stepped into the steaming water. He waited for you to sit down, removing his own clothes, and climbed in behind you. You settled between his legs, laying back against his chest.

You let the hot water melt away the stress and anxiety from the day. You knew that whatever was happening wasn’t over, but right now, all you wanted was to relax and be with Jake. Your sweet, warm, beautiful boy. “Can I have my wine, please?” He gently pushed you forward so he could lean out of the tub to retrieve the glasses. “Thank you, baby.”

He wrapped his arm around your stomach to pull you back against him. “You’re welcome, love.” He kissed your hair as his hand stayed planted on your abdomen.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a while until the water started to lose some of its warmth. “Jake?” You said his name so quietly, you almost thought he didn’t hear you.

“Yes, my love?” He spoke into your neck, nuzzling his nose against you.

“If you ever leave me like that again…” You paused, fighting back the tears that threatened to fill your eyes. “It’s gonna have to be for good, Jake…” You took a shuddering breath, prompting him to lift his face from your neck, his body tense. “The look you gave me. Like you were disgusted with me.” You cringed thinking back on it, “ The feeling in my chest when you walked out that door… I don’t ever want to feel that again.” Your lip trembled as the first tear slid down your cheek.

Jake shifted behind you, “Y/N, I never had any intention of leaving you…” He turned your body so you were facing him in the water. “I know I said things that I can’t take back, baby. I know that.” He cupped your face, wiping your tears away, “I needed to step away from the situation and calm down. Sure, there was a better way to handle it, but I-.” He paused, his panic evident in the way his breathing picked up. “You have to know that I would never leave you, Y/N. There is nobody else for me.” His eyes searched yours, looking for any sign that you believed him. “Baby, please tell me you know that.”

His pleading eyes softened you and you pulled him into an embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I know, Jake. I just- We’ve never had trouble communicating before, you can’t just walk out on me like that.” He pulled you onto his lap, holding you tightly as he nodded in understanding. “I just want things to go back to how they were before I met her…” You dropped your head as you whispered, a shiver coursing through your body.

“They will, my love. I’ll make sure of it.” He kissed your cheek, “Let’s get you out of here and into something warm.” You stood up and let him wrap a towel around you before leading you down the hall to your bedroom. You dried your body off and let your hair out of its bun. Jake dug through his dresser to find clothes. “Do you want shorts, or just a t-.” When he turned to face you, you were already in bed, tucked beneath the duvet. “Did you even put underwear on?”

You gave him an innocent smile as you shook your head. “Come to bed, Jakey.” He flicked the overhead light off and turned the lamp on his nightstand on. You watched as he pulled the towel from his body and climbed into bed with you. “I just wanna be close to you.” You rolled into him, resting your head on his chest and tangling your legs with his. After a few quiet moments, you felt Jake shift, his erection leaving a prominent tent in the comforter. You let out a quiet giggle and moved your leg, letting your knee nudge his cock. “We can’t just cuddle without interruption?” You raised your eyebrow as you looked at him.

He pushed your body off his, moving to lay on top of you. “Your beautiful naked body is draped over me. What do you expect, love?” You could feel him pressing into your hip and you moved your legs apart, letting him settle between them. Jake placed a warm kiss on your collarbone and you grasped his shoulders..

“Jake…” You waited for him to lift his head to meet your eyes. “Go slow, lover. Let’s just be in the moment together, please.” You pushed his hair behind his ear to get a better view of his face. “It’s been awhile since we really took our time with one another, baby.”

“Anything you want, my sweet girl.” He captured your lips in a kiss full of passion. Your hands circled his neck, fingers weaving into the hair at the nape. His right hand stayed planted on the mattress, holding his weight above you while his left traveled down your body, exploring the terrain. He pulled away from the kiss, “I don’t think there’s ever been a more perfect body than this.” You had your days of doubt and insecurity about your body, but the way Jake worshiped every inch of you, every imperfection, it made all the bad thoughts leave your mind on a one way train. “These soft, plump lips when you pout at me.” He caught your bottom lip between his fingers before giving you a quick peck. “This scar on your shoulder,” He pointed at the small, fading mark, “from when you insisted on riding that mechanical bull…” Another peck to the scar. “Don’t get me started on these…” He moved to your breasts, placing a peck to the swell of one before dragging his tongue over your nipple. You hummed as you watched him work his way down, listing off the things he adored about you. “Your skin is softest here,” The back of his fingers grazed over your tummy, right below your naval. “I could use this spot as a pillow for the rest of my days and every sleep would be fulfilling.” A kiss to your belly. “These legs…” He pulled your leg up, running his fingers down the length of it, “They could make a train stop on a dime.” A trail of kisses down your thigh until he settled between, inches from your core. He reached for your hand and you let your fingers intertwine with his. “Your hands might be my favorite. Only second to your heart.” His lips brushed your fingertips for a moment. “When I come home from a tour, or even just after a bad day, the second your hands wrap around me…” His eyes met yours, “You put them right here,” He pointed to his chest, “Right over my heart. And I can feel every ounce of stress melt away from me. Only your hands have the power to do that, Y/N.” He held your stare for a few more seconds before dropping his eyes to your center. “And this…” He paused, running his finger through your arousal. “God, she gets so wet for me.” His finger passed over your clit so lightly.

“Hmm. Only for you, baby.” Your back arched off of the bed. His hand was still locked with yours and you squeezed it just as his tongue lapped at your pussy. He stuck to your request to go slow, drawing tiny circles over your clit with the tip of his tongue. You rested your head against the pillows, relishing in the feeling. His free hand dipped low, sinking one finger into you and you let out a gasp. Jake looked up at you through his dark lashes, watching as you began to squirm. The sight before him had his dick throbbing. He wanted nothing more than to devour you until you were a dripping mess beneath him, but he also wanted to take his time, savor the moment with you. Because you were right, it had been awhile. And now he was realizing how many of the little details about you he was missing. The way you fought to keep your face relaxed, rolling your head from side to side. He curled his finger, waiting for the inevitable whimper to leave your mouth. There it was. The sound came in the form of his name, drawn out into a pitched whine. He couldn’t help himself from grinding into the mattress. You looked down at him and found his eyes already on your own. Sitting up slightly, you pulled his hand, prompting him to stop and crawl up your body. He laid his chest over yours as you pulled his lips to yours, tasting yourself on them. The kiss was soft. Instead of fighting for dominance, your tongues worked in tune with each other, flowing together in a seamless rhythm. You drew your legs apart, making space for Jake to fit between them and he backed out of the kiss, searching your face. He gave you a look, silently asking for permission and you nodded. “I want it, Jake. Please.” He reconnected your lips, using it as a distraction while he reached between your bodies to grab himself, guiding his cock to your entrance. When he began pushing into you, your mouth dropped open, taking in a deep breath. You stared at the ceiling, feeling him stretch you slowly and he took the opportunity to leave wet kisses over your jaw and down your throat. Once he finally bottomed out, you both sighed in unison. He slid out a bit before he started rolling his hips. There was no rush in the way he moved and you could feel every part of him. Every fine detail of his cock as it filled you over and over. “Oh Jake…” Your moans were quiet, made up of breathy whines and sighs.

“How does it feel, love?” His nose brushed against your cheek and you wrapped your legs around him, giving him the angle to push deeper. “Hmm. I love the way you fit around me. Can’t ever get enough of you, Y/N.” He let his forehead rest on yours, his breath fanning over your face. Your hands went to his back, holding him as though he may float away. Jake found a steady rhythm with his thrusts, each stroke grazing over the most delicious spot inside of you.

Your eyes rolled as your legs tightened around him. “So good, baby. Feels so good when you love me like this.” The tension was building in your stomach, growing with every movement he made. He could feel you clenching him. The way your pussy gripped him, luring him closer to his climax. “We’re almost there, Jakey. I can feel it.” Your nails dug into his shoulders as the threads of your orgasm started to burst. “I love you…” His eyes caught yours as you said it. Those three words uttered from your mouth was it for him. His mouth landed on yours, hungrily eating up your moans as his hips began to falter. A groan roared from deep in his chest and you could feel the vibration of it against your body. The final seam ripped and your orgasm came crashing down around you, flooding your brain and dulling all of your senses. The only thought left in your mind was Jake. You grasped at his skin, drawing him as close as you could get him, but it still wasn’t enough. It would never be close enough.

He buried his face into your neck, hips staggering as he spilled into you, filling you with his warm release. “F-fuck, baby…I fucking love you.” The words were muffled against your skin, but you heard him loud and clear. His body went limp atop of yours, forcing all of his weight onto you. Your hands caressed his back, aiding him in his descent.

When his chest had finally stopped heaving, he made a move to pull out of you, but you kept your legs around him. “Not yet, baby. Just stay for a little longer.” He halted, propping himself on his elbows to look down at you, his gaze full of adoration and the purest of love. You reached up to push the hair from his sweat drenched face and cupped his cheeks. “My beautiful boy.” He turned his head to kiss your palm and you could’ve sworn you felt your heart grow bigger. “My Jake.” You whispered just as his lips brushed yours.

You laid there for a while. Just existing together was enough for you and him both. At some point Jake had finally pulled out of you, but he didn’t move. He stayed sprawled over you, completely spent, his body blanketing yours until he started to doze. You dragged your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp and lulling him to sleep. When you heard his soft snores echoing throughout the room, you kissed the top of his head, and allowed sleep to consume you as well.

_______________________________________________________

You awoke the next morning, still bathed in Jake’s warmth as his limbs tangled with yours. Rubbing your hands over your eyes, you unraveled yourself from your boyfriend to stretch your muscles. Your back arched as your hands reached above your head, smoothing out the tension from your night’s rest. A satisfied hum vibrated from your mouth as you turned on your side to look at Jake. He looked so serene. His face relaxed, lips parted as his breath escaped. You brought your finger to his nose, unable to resist, and traced along the bridge. Starting between his eyebrows, your fingers glided down to the very tip. His tongue shot out to lick his dry lips as his brow furrowed. Suppressing the giggle that threatened to rise from your throat, you did it again, watching him stir. “Jakey, baby…” Your tone was light and sweet, “Wake up, Jake.” You poked his cheek.

He grabbed your hand with a groan, pulling it away from his face without opening his eyes. “What do you need, love?” His raspy morning voice always sent butterflies askew in your stomach.

You sat up and tossed your leg over him, straddling his waist. “Let’s go get breakfast.” He peeled his eyes open, allowing them to adjust to the sunlight streaming through the curtains, and placed his hands on your thighs. “I wanna go to that coffee shop that we met at. The one in the city.”

A smile graced his features, “We haven’t been there in so long.” Jake let his fingers interlock with yours as he stared up at you above him, admiring how beautiful you looked in the mornings. Wild, knotted hair and bright eyes, your skin glowing in the warm sunlight. His eyes traveled down your naked body to where you sat on him, the duvet pooling at your hips, “You better get up now or we won’t be going anywhere today, my love.” He shifted beneath you and you could feel his morning erection press into your ass cheek.

Looking down at him, a smirk tugging at your lip, you scooted backwards. “Maybe we can spare a little time.” You leaned forward to adjust your position before settling back down, his cock nestled between your folds. You began rolling your hips, gliding your wetness over his length. “What do you think, lover?” Your pace quickened for a few seconds, only to slow down again.

“Oh shit.” Jake’s hand went to your hips, trying to make you move faster. “Baby, don’t torture me.” His eyes were pleading for you to let him in.

You just flashed him your smile and pulled his hands from your body, pinning them above his head. “It’s not torture, Jacob.” Your breasts were hovering in his face as you leaned over him. “Don’t touch. Just enjoy the ride, baby.” He lifted his head to press his lips to your hardened nipple and you sat back up, resuming your position on top of him. “Can you do that for me? Keep your hands to yourself and I’ll make it so easy for you.” You resumed your grinding before he could answer. Jake relaxed, letting you take care of him, trusting your words to make it easy. He kept his hands in place, grasping at the pillows as you sped up. Your clit brushed over his tip and you both shivered from the contact. He was so hard, the thick vein protruding from the bottom of his cock adding the sweetest bit of pressure.

His hips jutted, sending a shockwave through your body. It flipped a switch and you planted your hands on his chest, slipping against him at a mind blowing pace. Jake fought with himself, struggling to keep his hands off of you, “Jesus, Y/N.” He was a panting mess, his legs kicking against the mattress behind you. “Please don’t stop…” His words sounded strangled, squeezing through his tight throat. You set your sights on the approaching climax, working hard to make sure you and Jake came together. Just as that familiar burn began to spread in your tummy, you heard a voice echo through your home, calling out to Jake. Your eyes went wide as you started to slow your movements. “Don’t you fucking stop, don’t you dare.” The urgency in his tone matched with the pleading look on his face drove you mad. The same voice called his name again but you tuned it out as you sped up. Your pooling arousal allowed you to slide effortlessly over his length and the bed rocked under your bodies from the rapid movements. Throwing your head back, you placed your hands on his thighs behind you, winding your hips in a circle and Jake was done for. He shuddered beneath you, grunting out a slew of curses as ropes of cum shot out to paint his abdomen. “That’s it, baby. S-So good.” His eyes were screwed shut as he murmured the praise. If you weren’t completely overcome by your own orgasm, you would’ve heard the knocking on your bedroom door. Your legs clamped around him as convulsions ripped through you.

You dropped your hands to either side of Jake’s head, breathing heavily, when the knocks sounded again. “Are you guys fucking done in there?” Josh yelled through the door, a hint of laughter in his tone. You covered your mouth to hide a giggle and rolled off of your boyfriend. Jake grumbled as he got up, using his towel from the night before to wipe himself off, and pulled a pair of boxers on. You yanked the comforter over yourself to hide your naked body just as he pulled the door open, revealing Josh with his shit-eating grin. “I must say, I’m glad to see you’ve made up. Splendid!”

Jake rolled his eyes at his twin, “Why are you here, Josh?”

Josh feigned a look of hurt. “Well, if you’d answer your damn phone.” He lifted his hand, holding a notebook in front of Jake’s face and waved it. “I had some ideas this morning. Lyrics, possible concepts. Wanted you to take a look.” He shoved the book into his brother’s chest, prompting him to grab it.

He forced the book back at Josh, “I can’t right now. We have breakfast plans.” Jake gestured between you and him, his focus never leaving Josh.

You watched as they bickered back and forth, allowing it to go on for a couple minutes until you couldn’t take it anymore. “Okay, children…” They both turned to you in unison and you smiled, loving the moments when they were perfectly in sync. “I will go and get breakfast for all of us. You two can stay here and work out whatever this is.” You didn’t give either of them a chance to say anything, “No go away so I can get dressed.” Jake pushed the door shut in Josh’s face, but you heard him holler a ‘Thanks, mama.’ through the barrier as you rose from the bed.

“I could’ve made him leave, Y/N” He walked over to you, pouting his lip. “I wanted to go to the cafe, just the two of us.” You pulled your panties on, listening to him make his argument, and then went to the closet. He followed you, lingering in the doorway.

You put on a pair of black leggings and pulled a plain white, cropped tee from its hanger, turning to Jake. “I’ll be back in less than an hour, baby.” His hands found your waist, drawing you closer to him. You placed your hand over his chest before giving him a quick peck, “You know Josh doesn’t come to you unless he’s onto something really good.”

His eyes fell shut as he soaked your words up, nodding in understanding. “You don’t always have to be right about everything.” Jake slid his hands over your ass, giving it a playful squeeze. “Okay, but don’t take too long.” He left one more soft kiss to your lips before letting you move past him and out of the bedroom.

_____________________________________________________

You parked your car by the curb, grabbing a few quarters to throw in the meter. Jake had texted you on your drive into the city to let you know that Danny and Sam would be coming to your home as well. When you got out of the car, you sent him a response, asking for a list of everyone’s drink and food orders. After tossing the change into the parking meter, earning you 30 minutes, you walked the half block towards the coffee shop. It was crowded inside the cafe, busier than usual for 10 am on a Thursday. You stepped up to the line, reading over the text that held the order requests before switching apps to occupy your time. When the barista called you up, you read everything off the list, finishing with your own items and giving her your debit card. She took it with a smile, swiping it down the side of the card reader and handed it back to you. You pulled a $20 bill from your wallet and stuffed it into the tip jar as you moved to the other end of the counter to wait for your name to be called. Just as you unlocked your phone to text Jake, letting him know you’d be back soon, something caught your attention. You looked up into the mess of people littering the small area, your eyes landing on a curtain of brown hair, shielding a face that was turned down, staring at a phone screen. You squinted, trying to be sure it was who thought. But when she lifted her head, her eyes instantly landing on you, it wasn’t her face you were looking at. It was her shirt. Jake’s shirt. You would recognize the black, acid washed garment anywhere, it was one of a kind. Slowly your eyes traveled up to her face, a deer in headlights expression plastered there. A barista called your name then, causing you to look away from her and when you turned back, she was weaving through the sea of customers and out the door. You grabbed the cup holder and bags that held your order and rushed out the door, ready to confront her for stealing from your home, from your boyfriend. But when you hit the sidewalk, whipping your head in both directions, she was just gone.

Your palms were sweating with fury the whole drive home. When you tramped through the front door, Jake instantly knew something was off. He came up, taking the loaded cup holder from your hands, “What happened, Y/N?” He followed you into the kitchen, where his brother all stood around the island. “Are you okay?” He placed the drinks down and turned you to face him.

“I fucking saw her.” Your chest was rising and falling rapidly as your temper grew. “That snake bitch stole your shirt Jake! She fucking took it from our bedroom floor and she’s wearing it.” You didn’t need to say her name, he knew who you were referring to.

He rubbed his hand up and down your arms in a soothing manner, willing you to relax. “What do you mean, love? What shirt?” He kept his voice calm despite the sick feeling in his chest. You described the shirt to him.

“I was wearing it that night. When we-” You paused, knowing the guys were listening to your entire conversation. “When I woke up and went into the bedroom the next morning, it was gone. I dug through every piece of clothing in that room.” Taking a deep breath, you huffed the air out of your lungs, “She was in the coffee shop… Wearing it like it fucking belonged to her. She had no fucking right.” You didn’t realize you were shaking until Jake wrapped you in his arms, tucking you against him. He whispered into your hair, little things that he knew would calm you.

When Sammy opened his mouth to speak from behind you, your head snapped to look at him. “She really is obsessed with you…” You waited for him to elaborate but he was completely clueless.

Jake was the one to push, “What are you talking about, Sam?”

His little brother shrugged, “I thought the way she threw herself at you in Atlanta was a little odd, but she’s really coming into stalker territory.”

You looked from Sam to Jake, brows furrowed. Atlanta? He hadn’t been in Atlanta since March? “Jake, what is he talking about?”

He was just as puzzled as you were, trying to put pieces together. “I never met her in Atlanta, Sam. I didn’t know who she was until Odessa introduced her at the bar two months ago?”

“Yes you did.” Now Sam was the one confused, “When we were down there to work with that producer that label tried to pair us with. Odessa drove down to visit Danny and brought Sage with her.” He paused, sipping his coffee. “We were at that western themed bar and she kept trying to buy you drinks and hang on you.” You could see Jake’s gears turning, the memory settling into place. “After she was all over Y/N at the bar and then me at the cookout…I don’t know. I chalked it up to her just enjoying attention… But now…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“The blonde? At the cowboy bar with Odessa… The blonde girl was Sage?” Jake looked at Danny for confirmation and he gave a gentle nod. “How did I not connect those dots? I can’t even remember seeing her face that night.”

Josh chimed in, “Probably because you were worried about Y/N that whole weekend.” He flicked his eyes to you, an apologetic look on his face.

You looked up at Jake, remembering that time, “I was supposed to make the trip down with Dess, but my dad got sick… I had to drive home.” A sickening feeling started to ripple through your insides. “Jake, she’s-” Your voice shook as you fought back the nausea working its way up your esophagus.

He knew what you were thinking as his brothers all stared at you, trying to draw their own conclusions. “Baby, no. You don’t think-.”

“It’s all been her.”

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[thehusbandoden]

I love imagining that Kirishima would be even more excited to be a dad than to be a Pro Hero. But I also think he'd try to keep those parts of his life separated, to keep his kid(s) safe. You just KNOW the first time his child(ren) get caught up in some danger he'd go feral on some Villains.

A/n: I loved this idea and went a little overboard lol. I kinda want to write a drabble but I'm not too sure, but for now here are some headcannons!

Kirishima as a Dad Headcannons

General info:

Genre: slice of life (?) \\ wc: 1,625 \\ female reader

Warnings!: kidnapping, violence, Kiri losing it, kids being taken away/kidnapped, ummmm pls let me know if I miss any! <33 Anon, if any of these are triggering for you please reach out to me and I'll fix it!

Oh my goodness yes.

When you told him that you were pregnant he cried- happy tears of course. Manly happy tears.

He was so excited, and was instantly asking for paternal leave

Which was denied- but anyway

He loves to take care of you.

Foot massages, belly rubs, kisses wherever whenever, cuddles, weird cravings, manual labor, anything, you name it and it's yours.

Honestly you got a little spoiled lol

Though he's so excited for his gorgeous baby that will have the perfect mix of genes, he tires to drown out his thoughts of you and the angel you're growing in your womb.

He has work to do, and if he doesn't do his work you and baby will have a higher risk of harm befalling you.

He slowly masters the art of not thinking about his reason for existence, and solely focusing on work.

He already hides you pretty well from his fans, simply telling them that he was in a very happy, and very serious long term relationship.

The majority of his fans were super understanding about it all and were just glad he was happy, but the fake ones would still hit on him, try and guilt him into sharing more details, or even try stalking him to get a glimpse of Mrs. Perfect.

He didn't tell the public that you were expecting until he left on Paternity leave, and he didn't share anymore details outside of that.

The real and fake fans were clear to see by their reactions.

Once baby is born he's literally already so in love.

If you had a problematic delivery he'd be more worried about you, of course; but as soon as he knows you're okay he is immediately putting eighty percent of his attention on baby boy, and keeping the other twenty on you.

Crying manly tears as he watches you hold him, standing next to you as you feed him for the first time.

Once you two have had enough skin to skin time and you decide to rest, he takes your beautiful baby boy in awe before kissing your forehead lovingly.

"Thank you so much Pebble. He is just as perfect as you."

After making sure you're situated he sits on the chair closest to your bed, and simply watches sweet baby boy.

When he falls asleep he holds him to his bare chest, talking to him softly.

He doesn't dare rest until you're awake. He's read too many horror stories of the horrors of villains harming a pro hero's baby, or even having the baby purposely or accidentally swapped with another.

Once you do wake up, he's quick to reward you with a sweet kiss and your baby boy in your arms.

For the next while in the hospital you two take turns with baby boy, you mostly holding him while you're awake, and Kiri holding him while you rest.

Even though you tried to convince him to get some sleep, he wouldn't listen. He literally could not rest until the two of you were safely tucked into your home. There were too many dangers for you and baby, and he refused to make you wait on him.

Once he gets back to going to work he is absolutely miserable. He hates being away from his babies, and the worry kills him every time.

Luckily, nothing happened to you or baby, well at least for a few years.

Baby boy was seven, and you both had a daughter who just turned four.

Kiri was at work, and you were making dinner.

Your son had asked you if he could take his sister outside to play in the backyard; not seeing anything wrong with it, you agreed.

You even had a window above the sink looking over where they were playing, it was supposed to be safe.

A new organization of villains targeted your family due to Kiri stopping a robbery that would help them immensely.

Using their leader's quirk, they were able to find out a bunch of information about you and your precious babies.

All he needed was two men.

One to take you, and one to grab your kids.

Though you put up quite the fight, you stopped as they started to target your stomach.

There was something they didn't know; that you would make sure to keep hidden.

They ended up with you and your kids handcuffed in a dark room.

You were absolutely terrified of what was going to happen to your babies, but you put on a brave face, comforting your children with a smile.

They would cry and shuffle as close to you as possible, asking you where daddy was and asking if he wasn't coming for them.

"No no, darling. Your daddy is coming, he'll save us very soon!"

And that he did.

Like always, he came home to eat dinner with his gorgeous family.

Walking in, he let out a loud:

"Daddy's home! Kisses and hugs are in order~!"

He expected to hear giggles and the pattering of small footsteps sprinting towards him, a far more familiar set following close behind.

But, to his disappointment; the house was silent.

Walking toward he kitchen, he frowns at the mess by the island. Spilled food and cooking utensils scattered the floor.

"Y/n baby? What happened in the kitchen?!"

Walking outside, he panicked at the sight of a fallen off shoe and jacket.

Those were both signs of struggling..

Sprinting inside, Kiri yelled for you to come out as he scoured the mansion for another sight of his gorgeous family.

The lights were on- if you left you would have turn them off.

Calling your phone, his heart dropped at the sight of it's cracked screen lying on the floor of the kitchen, his contact name "Hubby 🥰😏" lighting up the screen.

Taking a second to collect his thoughts, rage filled his being as he studied the picture of him being hugged and kissed by his babies, huge smiles planted on their faces.

Hanging up the call, he quickly went to Bakugo's contact, calling the tsundere uncle.

"Ha? What do you need n-"

"They're gone."

"What?"

"Somebody decided to try and take my world from me. They're gone- and we need to find them."

The seriousness in Kiri's tone made the man shiver. Somebody was dead- so dead.

"I'll call the idiots. You get Rikona on the line."

Rikona was a fellow hero in the Bakusquad agency. Her quirk was related to her immense intelligence, and she was the one to call if you needed to get any kind of information quickly. She could easily find Kiri's family in mere minutes.

After calling her, Kiri followed her instructions, which eventually got him to a run down ware house.

After thanking the hero and sending his location in the Bakusquad groupchat, Kiri put his phone on silent and made his way inside.

He silently took down every villain he came across.

After a short while he found his way to a large room, where several men were.

Studying the scene closely, Kiri could only see red as he spotted you tied to a chair, cheek visibly reddened.

Your kids were on chairs near you, tears streaming down their cheeks as they watched the men hovering around them.

Moving to contact the Bakusquad, Kiri snapped at the sound of a slap.

Jerking his head towards the sound, uncontrollable anger pulsed through Eijiro as he lunged towards the villains, knocking down every single one that dared try and stop him.

Getting to the scum that dared touch you, Kiri hardened his arm before elbowing the villain in the face.

Hard.

Now that the path was cleared, Kiri wasted no time untying you and your angels, hugging the three of you comfortingly.

"Shhh it's okay. I've got you now, I've got you."

He stayed right next to you, glaring at any villain who dared take a step closer.

He was cornered. And there was no way he was going to leave your side- it would be too easy for someone to take you away again.

As a villain approached, Kiri hardened his arm a little more, sending out a warning.

Anyone stupid enough to get close enough to reach any of you received a harder-than-rock elbow to the face.

Just as five villains approached, Bakugo and the Bakusquad burst in, immediately setting to work to help.

Bakugo and Mina immediately started attacking the villains, while Denki and Jiro started tying up the knocked down villains.

Using his tape, Sero brought you and your kids to him and out of harm's way, much to Kiri's relief.

Now free to go all out, Kiri absolutely annihilated any for he could reach, not holding anything back, he pounded the villains into the ground, only stopping to attack the next one.

After all of the villains were defeated Kiri moved to the leader- the one that hurt his Pebble.

Bashing his elbow into the dude's face, Bakugo literally had to pry him off of the passed out villain to stop him from beating him to death.

After snapping out of it Kiri instantly hurried to the separate room Sero took you and his angels to.

Throwing open the door, he hugged the living daylight out of all three of you, apologizing and cooing words of comfort and reassurance.

After taking you three home Kiri spoiled the kids, playing any game they wanted.

And after reading them to sleep, he turned to you. Engulfing you in an embrace as you finally let yourself cry.

Kiri took the next three weeks off, finding ways to keep you all safer.

The first thing, would have to be a guard dog. A giant, beautiful German Shepherd.. yeah that sounded nice.

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A/n 2: I hope this was okay! If not feel free to reach out to me! <3

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9/26/2023

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