#place where every touch meant more torture and pain then suddenly hes being put in the capable hands of a man whos like a fucking angel

[dirt-str1der]

I dont care about majima x sagawa btw but i care a lot about their relationship regardless because i want them to have the most toxic dealings and skewed power dynamics with each other as possible and i them both to have increasingly warped perceptions of each other (worlds most incorrect uncle-nephew relationship)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Bent, not broken 2

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; violence; injury; blood; drugging, tags to be added throughout series.

This is a dark!fic and features the winter soldier and Captain Hydra x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: An attack leads to the uncovering of decades old secrets when you are taken by the deadliest assassin in the world

Note: Thank you all for your patience with this :) So happy to get part 2 out!

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The man with the metal arm brought you a set of plain grey clothes. It was the type of shapeless linen given to patients in a long-term facility or inmates at a prison. When you struggled to lift your right shoulder over your head and winced as your ribs throbbed, he helped you get into the long-sleeved shirt, pulling the fabric down gruffly and backing away.

You shoved your feet into the rubber shoes, and held your arm across your middle, as you stood with shoulders curled forward pathetically. You hobbled to the door as he beckoned to you. You were reluctant to leave the room, fearful of a worse prison ahead. You didn’t have much choice in the matter; resistance was a ridiculous idea given your injuries. 

As it was, you were still too hazy with shock and pain to even think of doing anything other than what you were told. You only hoped that you would have a moment to lay down again. Standing up was torture, even just breathing, and those fleeting moments of sleep were your only relief.

The halls stretched on and on. The twists and turns seemed counterintuitive as he led you along and when you didn’t walk fast enough, he grabbed your arm and dragged you along. You limped and tripped several times but he hardly noticed as he kept his eyes forward.

He brought you out into the sombre grey evening and the gulp of cold air was like a slap in the face. You didn’t know how long it was since you last felt the outside, but it made you tear up. The subtle chill tickled your nose and sent a shiver up your neck. It didn’t feel real, not after the stifling stillness of that white room.

He ushered you over to the boxy black vehicle and opened the backdoor. He nudged you and pointed inside. You looked at him and then around at the barren dirt. You braced the side of the doorframe and grunted as you tried to climb up into the backseat. You gasped and dropped back onto the ground and touched your ribs.

He sniffed and you flinched as his hand came up under your ass and he pushed you up and into the car. You groaned and landed heavily across the seat and kept yourself from sliding onto the floor. You turned back just as he slammed the door.

You coughed and reclined against the seat. You watched him climb in the front, a clear barrier between the front and back of the vehicle. The engine turned and hummed as he played with the controls. A screen above the dash lit up and showed coordinates on a map as several switches lit up below.

The jeep began to move as he steered mechanically away from the building. You peeked back at the grey brick and stretched your legs out as you leaned on the door. You rocked with the motion of the wheels but each jolt made you whimper. You closed your eyes and quelled the panic bubbling in your stomach.

You knew it couldn’t be good. None of it was. Waking up in that closet, being locked up in that white room, and now, your unknown destination hardly meant a mysterious fate. The Captain’s leer returned to you and his ominous words. The way he ordered the masked man around like a dog worried you more.

When you next opened your eyes, just about to doze off, you heard a subtle buzz through the barrier. Next to the screen, a phone was propped up and the timer counted up the minutes in the call. You couldn’t read what you assumed was Russian Cyrillic and you couldn’t quite hear the words coming from the speaker.

You sighed and it caused a stab in your ribs. You closed your eyes again and opted to try to cling onto your fatigue. It wouldn’t matter if you could hear the conversation, likely one-sided as it was, or if you could figure out where that little blinking tag on the map was. None of it made a difference. You could be certain you would not escape those men.

★

Mountains rose with sun through the slits of your eyelids. You batted away the sleepiness and shifted as you looked around at the rocky landscape, the road ahead steep and winding as the tires gripped the dirt. The angle of your ascent made your stomach flip and you leaned into the corner more heavily.

When the terrain plateaued, the mist thick around you, you dared to move and craned to peer around at the obscured lands below. The man drove on along the trail, just wide enough for the wide military vehicle and steered into the open mouth of a cave hidden between tall rocks jutting out from the mountain face.

The darkness consumed all but the glowing screen and symbols in the front of the vehicle and when the tires crunched to a halt, you sat up cautiously. The lights all went out and the front door opened and closed. The door behind you swung open and the rigid metal grip pulled you out. 

Your feet hit the ground harshly and you stumbled against the man’s unwavering posture. The door shut and he sidled you ahead of him between the metal and stone. You couldn’t see in the suffocating blackness of the cave but he walked on without hesitation. His hold on your arm was the only guide you had.

He stopped as the air grew sharp and startlingly cold. Your teeth chattered and you heard the shift of rock against rock. A glowing blue oval appeared, as if floating, and he covered it with his thumb. A low rumble came from deep in the mountain and suddenly the slate before you shifted and a wall of light shone over you.

He shoved you through the door and followed, the metal door sliding closed as the rock wall on the other side clattered back into place. You looked up and down the hallway. The walls were constructed of metal sheets and the atmosphere was just as sterile as that before. Each door was thick and firmly shut, a keypad set into the wall by every frame.

The metal finger pointed you ahead of the masked man and you staggered down the long hall. He led you from behind, a right turn and then to the end. The only open door led to a peculiarly cozy room. The walls were made of rippled wood and lent the air of a cabin as the fireplace burned with artificial flames. There was a long sofa and two plaid armchairs, and the place was decorated like a real home.

Your eyes were drawn to the walnut bar in the corner where the lone figure stood. The Captain no longer sported his helmet or combat suit but wore a pale blue cable knit sweater. He smirked at you as he swirled the dark liquor in a round-bellied bottle and sniffed the neck.

“About time,” he said to the man behind you.

The masked man poked you and grabbed your elbow. He brought you to the bar and pulled a stool close to you. You couldn’t climb up on your own and so he lifted you and plunked you down. He perched on another as the Captain ordered him to.

“You look confused,” the Captain said coolly, “why wouldn’t you be? I can only assume the breadth of explanation offered by my companion.” He winked at the other man who only glared back above his black mask, “he doesn’t say much but you can call him Bucky, he might answer to it.”

He took a slender shot glass and filled it with the nearly black liquid. He turned it slowly and tilted his head as he eyed it. He put the bottle down and leaned an arm on the bar as he watched you.

“Soldat, maybe,” he offered, “he’s a good soldier. And you already know who I am, but sir will suffice.”

You frowned and glanced between him and the other man; Bucky, soldat, whatever he was. Steve chuckled and lifted the shot. He held it up until you looked at it and just as quickly, knocked it back and hissed as he slammed the glass back down.

“You see, me and him, we have different variants of the serum. Similar enough, one of the things we have in common being our tolerance for alcohol. But this…” he flicked the top of the bottle, “a couple shots and the edge starts to blur. If someone like you were to take just a sip, well, you’d be on your ass.”

You shook your head, not quite catching his point. He inhaled and poured another shot. He put it in front of the soldat.

“Loosen up, will ya?” he chided.

The dark-haired man squinted and stared at the glass. He reached up with one hand and took off the mask. He revealed a square jaw and chiseled cheekbones. He drained the shot in a single robotic motion but when he brought the glass back down, it shattered against the bar.

“He has issues with… restraint,” Steve said, “to him, a knock in the head is like a peck on the lips. He doesn’t feel it. If he can’t feel, how can he know what others can?”

“I don’t…” you sniffed.

“He could’ve killed you. He almost did by the looks of it, but he didn’t,” he continued, “there are flickers in him… little things left behind from who he once was, but I don’t think it was mercy.”

You chewed your lip and stayed silent. You took a breath and once more wracked your tender ribs. You folded your arms around you and grimaced.

“Yeah, hurts, doesn’t it?” he taunted, “unfortunately for us, you’ll need lots of rest if you don’t wanna puncture a lung.”

“What do you… mean?” you regretted asking the moment the question was out. It was a dumb question.

He raised his brows and the scar across his eye paled. He rubbed his forehead and chuckled. His blue eyes wandered for just a moment to the plain gray cotton along your shoulders and he shrugged.

“Look, you don’t wanna do this now,” he said, “so I suggest…” he reached under the bar and revealed a bottle of wine then a stemmed glass, “you get comfortable,” he turned and searched the slim drawer at the top, “and try not to think too much.”

He put an orange bottle of pills down beside the glass and filled the crystal. He pushed the wine towards you and uncapped the bottle. He placed two tablets beside the base and popped the lid back on. 

“It will help with the pain,” he assured you, “and it will make it easier to get settled in.”

“I… I don’t what these are,” you scoffed as you pointed at the pills.

“I wouldn’t poison you. I could end it a lot quicker than that,” he tisked, “so, accept my generosity or I’ll shove it down your throat.”

You blanched and stared at him. The other man, Bucky, stood and stopped you from reaching for the wine. Steve looked at him in amusement and watched him jab a finger towards his chest.

“I’m helping her,” Steve said flatly, “but if you have an easier way, by all means.”

Bucky lowered his chin and closed his eyes. He sat and turned to you. He took the pills and held them out to you. You scooped them up shakily and he swiped up the wine, hovering it just before you. You shoved the pills in your mouth and accepted the wine.

His eyes focused on your lips as you sipped and he glanced back at Steve. He put his hand flat in the air, a blunt gesture. The blond laughed and raised his palms defensively.

“He wants me to leave you alone now,” he snickered, “go on then, Buck, find her a bed.”

The soldier stood and waited for you to do the same. You left the wine half-finished and he ushered you back to the door. As he reached it, Steve’s voice rose again.

“Shouldn’t worry so much about me hurting her, soldat,” he called mockingly, “you do that well enough.”

He prodded you through the door and growled under his breath. He directed you down to the corner and pressed his thumb to the keypad. The door slid up suddenly and you flinched. He blocked the doorway behind you as you entered and looked around at the bedroom. Everything you needed awaited you within those walls and if you weren’t in the middle of a mountain, it would seem an entirely ordinary place.

You turned back but all you saw was the metal descend and close you in. You stared at it for a moment then went to the bed. You sat and rubbed your temples. You could feel the pills dredging up your mind and the wine curdling in your stomach. Sleep was tempting as it was your only choice.

★

When you woke next, you felt an odd presence. The room was dark but it was that feeling you got as a child when you left the closet door open and conjured monstrous creatures watching from within. 

You groaned as you propped yourself up on one elbow and reached to the switch above the headboard that turned on the lamps on the side table. The room lit up and you crooked as you found a visitor in your corner. 

It was the soldat, his mask back in place as he stood and watched you. You blinked and looked at the door. It was firmly shut. You kept the blanket over you like a shield as you sat up and tried not to show your fear.

“Hi,” you said softly, “are you… okay?”

His blue eyes searched you but gave nothing away. The mask and the curtain of his hair shrouded his emotion. You just stared back in silence as his lashes flicked subtly, his irises moving up and down the bed. He took a step closer and you winced, squeezing the edge of the blankets.

He neared and lowered himself onto the edge of the bed. He grabbed the top of the blanket and tugged until you let them go. You quivered as he pushed your shoulders down and you were forced flat with your head on the pillows. You gulped and the movement of your throat caught his gaze.

His metal fingers tickled along your neck and sent a chill down your spine. His hand continued down the front of your shirt and he pushed the hem up as the blanket bunched beneath your stomach. You latched onto it in a panic and he tore your hands away. He pressed them to the bed beside you until you went limp.

He raised your shirt higher and framed your ribs with his hands, feeling carefully along your bruised torso. When you exclaimed he retracted his hands and pulled your shirt back down roughly. He shook his head and his brows slanted.

His metal fingertips tapped on his thigh as he thought. You laid frozen on the mattress as his forehead wrinkled and he angled his head as if arguing with himself. His hand shifted suddenly and closed around yours. You let him lift it, terrified to anger him.

He reached to unhook his mask and set it in his lap. He brought your hand to his cheek and leaned his face into your palm as he bent over you. You felt the short stubble stabbing your palm. He took your hand away and swung it back towards him sharply so that you smacked him stiffly. 

You stared at him in confusion and he did it again. Then he let your hand go and pointed at his cheek and nodded. You dropped your hand and did nothing. His blue eyes turned to daggers and his jaw squared. He balled his hand and punched his leg in frustration.

He huffed and picked up his mask. He stood and put it back on. He waved his fingers at you dismissively and stomped to the door. He pressed his thumb to the small indent and it slid open before him. When the door shut, you left the lights on. 

Even with the drugs still coursing through you, sleep didn’t seem likely.

[writing-by-gayrainbowbridge]

Keep Fighting

Inspiration From This Lovely Prompt By murdermuffinkink:

Loki and Tony are in abusive relationships with each of their partners. Loki had long since given up on getting out of his own but when he sees Tony still struggling and fighting against Steve, he decides that if he can't get out of his own abusive relationship with Thor, he can at least help Tony get out of his.

⚠️Warnings: Abusive Relationship(s), Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-Con, Omega Verse, Self Harm, Suicide Attempt, Etc.⚠️

Enjoy 💚❤

Loki had given up nearly two hundred years ago in getting away from Thor. He tried many times but Thor had a tight hold on his leash, never letting Loki get far.

So, after what felt like a thousand years of fighting his relationship with Thor, he finally gave up and gave in, simply letting it happen. At least it was less painful when he was pliant and obedient.

When he had fallen from the Bifrost, he had thought for a minute, maybe he could finally be free. Free of Thor and all the hurt he'd caused. But it was never so easy for him.

Thor managed to get his hands back on Loki after he lost during the attack on New York. Thor was determined to never let Loki slip away again, using Loki's 'evil villain' status as an excuse to restrict Loki's magic to the point that it was barely there anymore.

Loki didn't tell anyone of how he was tortured for months and forced to attack Midgard. Who would believe him?

For a minute, Loki had been glad he lost. It was always the plan to lose, to be captured by the Avengers and taken back to Asgard and thrown in a cell. At least then, Thor wouldn't be able to touch him again.

But Thor never ended up taking him back to Asgard. He had instead asked Steve Rogers, the leader of the Avengers group if Loki could stay on Midgard.

Thor had played all teary eyed, telling the Avengers how he knew Loki was good inside, how he just needed some time to remember who he was. Not that Loki could forget. He remembered who he was before Thor had taken his whole world and freedom away from him. There had never been a choice for him.

Steve had agreed to let Loki stay, apparently moved by Thor caring so much for the wayward villain, so long as it was at the Tower where the Avengers could keep an eye on him.

They figured out soon enough why that was, how Thor cared for Loki as a lover. It sickened Loki that the Avengers didn't have a problem with it, that it was completely fine.

Sometimes, Loki had dark thoughts. Sometimes he wondered what would happen if he simply ended it all. Would anyone notice? Would anyone care? He was sure Thor would but that wasn't because he cared. He would only be upset that he lost his favourite toy.

The only reason Loki hadn't tried was because one, it was ridiculously hard to kill himself, not because he wasn't able to go through with it but because he was a god. God's were terribly hard to kill. Loki would know. He'd tried to kill Thor hundreds of times before. Never mind how many times he'd tried to kill himself.

And two was because of a certain mortal genius.

Loki wasn't sure at first what it was about Tony Stark that drew him. Sure, Tony was rather handsome and very intelligent for a mortal but there was something else about him that Loki...related to. The nearly defeated look in his eyes that were always cast towards the floor.

It wasn't until Loki saw Tony with Steve that he understood what it was that drew him.

It was early in the morning, Loki always getting up before Thor, (because if he didn't, he would end up under Thor for the rest of the morning) sitting at the kitchen table. Loki didn't speak to the other Avengers much, opting to pretend he was too tired to talk so he didn't have to converse with anyone. Nor, he thought, did any of them want to.

Steve was making everyone breakfast like he did every morning, Natasha and Clint talking to one another. Bruce wasn't yet awake and Tony was a wild card. He could still be asleep or he could have been holed up in his lab, getting no sleep the entire night.

Apparently the latter as Tony arrived a little while later as Steve was serving up breakfast, Tony looking bleary eyed as he made a beeline for the coffee machine.

Steve turned his head, watching with a frown as Tony poured himself a mug. "You didn't come to bed last night."

"I got busy," Tony said with a slight shrug, giving Steve a gentle smile. "Did you miss me, Captain?"

Steve frowned disapprovingly. "I'm being serious, Tony. I told you not to be in the lab all the time."

Tony sighed as he filled a mug. "I've been getting plenty of sleep, alright? Relax, Stevie, I'm fine."

"Tony," Steve said, his tone taking on a slightly warning edge, stepping closer to the genius.

Loki was the only one who saw Tony flinch, eyes flicking down to the floor. "I'll try not to go in the lab so much, okay?"

"Good," Steve said with a nod, a smile suddenly on his face at Tony's agreement. "Want some breakfast?"

Loki glanced at Tony who wasn't smiling, eyes down at his drink as he nodded his head. Tony looked up at the others, almost like he was checking to see if anyone had noticed and frowned when he saw Loki watching him.

But Loki didn't look away and neither did Tony. Not until strong arms suddenly wrapped around Loki from behind and a voice spoke in his ear. "There you are, Loki."

Loki didn't greet Thor back, instead tearing his gaze from Tony's as he looked pointedly back at his plate of untouched food.

After that, Loki continued to watch how Tony acted around Steve. He was always defiant at first, always arguing with whatever Steve told him but as soon as Steve made one threatening movement, so subtle that nobody but Loki noticed, Tony would immediately shut up and agree with whatever Steve had said.

There was a difference between him and Tony though. Tony was clearly still fighting back whereas Loki had already given up.

It was...refreshing though it hurt, reminding Loki of a time he used to fight back too. He didn't want to see Tony suffer how he did but he didn't know how he was meant to help without alerting Thor or even Steve to what he was doing.

But Loki would try to help Tony fight.

Because if he couldn't save himself, he could at least try and save Tony.

...

Tony wished he could get away from Steve sometimes. That he could simply leave.

But he couldn't. Nobody would listen to an Omega complain about how their Alpha abused them. Abused Omega's were always ignored, told that they were overreacting, that they were too soft and couldn't handle a little pressure.

Of course, he could always just kick Steve out of the Tower, make him leave. But that could cause more problems than Tony wanted to deal with. Fury would have his hide if he pulled something like that. As much as Tony didn't want to admit it, the world needed Captain America.

So Tony gritted his teeth and pushed through it. Besides, it wasn't so bad. Steve could get angry and a little too rough sometimes but it wasn't anything that Tony couldn't deal with.

And it had been fine until he realized he wasn't the only one who was being forced into a relationship he didn't want.

Jarvis had brought it to his attention, how Loki didn't eat much, barely got enough sleep and was constantly injured in some way.

Tony, despite being a genius, had been a little slow on trying to figure out how and why Loki was getting so hurt when all he did was lounge around the Tower.

But then he thought of Thor, how the god was always hovering over Loki. At least, Tony had assumed it was because he didn't want Loki getting up to no good. But it had been months since the attack and Loki hadn't tried to do a single evil thing in all that time.

It made Tony wonder if Loki was really that evil to begin with. For a guy apparently hellbent on ruling Earth, he had given up pretty damn easy, barely putting up a fight when Thor cuffed him. Almost like he had wanted to lose.

But that hadn't been the point. The point had been Loki getting hurt and as much as Loki was a villain, Tony didn't like people getting hurt under his roof.

It didn't take much snooping for Tony to figure out how Loki was getting himself hurt. Or more, who was getting Loki hurt.

Tony hated it but he knew there was nothing he could really do. He had gone up against Thor before with his suit and if Steve hadn't stepped in, he wasn't sure what would have happened.

Besides, it wasn't like Tony was in a better position. Steve would be furious if he found out Tony was taking a villains side or say he was being influenced somehow.

Still, Tony wished he could punch Thor and make it hurt.

But what was one little Omega going to do against a literal god? How could he help Loki when he could barely help himself?

...

"What were you thinking, Tony?!"

"I just—"

"That's right! You weren't thinking, were you?"

Loki watched along with the other Avengers as Tony was shouted at by Steve, doing nothing to stop it. Apparently the mission had gone sideways and Tony had nearly gotten himself extremely hurt, throwing himself into the line of fire to protect one of the others.

Loki wasn't sure why Steve was so upset. They were superheroes, weren't they? It was their job to protect and if they got hurt, that was a part of the risk.

Of course, Loki hadn't been there to see it for himself. He wasn't trusted to go on missions with the Avengers (nor did he want to) so he had to stay at the Tower with Thor watching him. Only, Thor did a lot more than simply watch him. His hips were already bruising from the blond's harsh grip.

Tony was staring at the floor now, not even trying to defend himself as Steve lectured on and on. Nobody said anything until Steve finally finished, taking a breather.

"Come on, Tony," Steve said finally, grabbing Tony's wrists in a too tight grip and dragged him to the elevator before anyone, even Tony, could get a word out.

Loki watched them go, fingers twitching in his lap, itching to race after the pair and yank Tony away from Steve but he couldn't. Without his magic, he was useless to help. All it would do was make Steve angrier and Thor would be even less impressed.

Loki saw Tony later in the day. Loki was on the couch, reading a book. Thor was thankfully down in the gym training and had ordered Loki to stay in their room.

Of course, Loki hadn't listened. Just because he had given up on getting away from Thor, it didn't mean he listened to everything the Thunder god demanded of him.

So when Tony walked into the kitchen for coffee, Loki watched the slight limp the mortal sported with narrowed green eyes.

As if knowing he was being watched, Tony turned his head, looking surprised to see Loki sitting on the couch. "Oh, hi Lokes. I didn't think anyone would be out here."

Loki raised an eyebrow, glancing at Tony's wrists and noted the bruises ringing around each one, just barely hidden beneath his long sleeved shirt. "You sound disappointed."

"No, I'm not, I just..." Tony sighed. "Never mind."

Loki frowned slightly, sitting up a little straighter. "Steve has been...treating you right lately?"

Tony stared at him, eyes going a little wide. "Excuse you."

Loki looked pointedly at Tony's wrists making the genius glance down at them and pale, quickly tugging the sleeves down.

Loki sighed, shaking his head. "Why do you put up with it? You could leave him."

Tony looked up at him, still looking rather pale though almost angry but it didn't seem to be directed at Loki. "Like you with Thor?"

Loki gave Tony a surprised look. He didn't think anyone had realized what Thor did to him.

"Jarvis," Tony said simply in explanation.

Loki pressed his lips into a thin line. "That's different."

"How exactly?" Tony asked, setting his mug on the kitchen bench as he walked over to Loki.

Loki glared at him for a moment but he wasn't angry. Just...upset. He thought Tony would understand.

But then, Tony hadn't given up like he had.

"You wouldn't understand," Loki whispered. "Nor do I want you to."

Tony's expression became a little sad, almost as if he did understand. Loki couldn't look at him as Tony sat beside him, gently leaning into the god who after a long minute, did the same.

Maybe Loki couldn't help Tony as much as he hoped but he could still do small things like this to show Tony he wasn't alone.

Or maybe Loki simply liked feeling that he wasn't alone himself.

...

Tony felt like he was minutes away from breaking down, constantly on the verge of tears as he did what he needed to throughout the day.

Steve had done something unforgivable last night. Tony could barely look at him the whole day though Steve had kept his distance. He didn't know why he was so surprised since Steve seemed to have no problem hitting him and yelling at him but this...

Tony had said no, had told him to stop and Steve...Steve just...

Steve raped him.

Oh god's, he was going to be sick—

"Anthony?"

Tony forced his slightly watery eyes up to meet those green ones he knew belonged to Loki. "O-oh. Hey, Lokes."

Loki frowned deeply, taking in Tony's tearful brown eyes. "What happened?"

Tony swallowed repeatedly, trying and failing to form words. How could he even begin to explain?

But Loki...Loki would understand. Loki knew what it was like...to be...to be...

A sob burst past Tony's lips before he could stop it and in one second and the next, he was gathered up in Loki's arms, held tight against the god's chest as Tony trembled, tears falling down his cheeks.

Loki didn't ask, didn't force Tony to talk. He didn't need to. Tony was sure Loki already figured it out on his own.

Loki didn't let him go though.

...

After that, Loki and Tony looked out for each other.

Whenever Loki came from the room he shared with Thor, bruises all over his aching body, Tony was there, offering to watch a movie together or hang out with him in the safety of his lab. It was either a distraction from the pain or a way to get away from Thor without him realizing it.

And when Tony came back after an argument with Steve or walked into the kitchen looking so pale that Loki barely had to guess what had happened, Loki would be there to pull the genius into his arms and hold him tight, letting him break down in his arms.

They both hid the abuse they endured from the others, either afraid of being judged as weak and pathetic or worried the others would think they deserved it and contribute to the abuse.

But they didn't mind so much because they had one another to keep each other from falling into their dark thoughts.

It took a while for both of them to realize that despite their situation, despite being in a relationship (even if it wasn't one they wanted) and despite both being Omega's, they wanted each other.

Tony realized first, Loki still being in denial, not because he didn't want Tony, much the opposite, but because he knew it would lead nowhere. If Thor found out he had feelings for someone else, Tony would be in danger of Thor. Loki couldn't do that to him.

It still didn't stop Loki from one day kissing Tony in the privacy of his lab, wishing things were different.

...

Loki knew he was going to get into trouble. If Thor caught him...

But it didn't matter. He didn't care anymore. He'd stopped caring about his own pain a long time ago.

Especially since the dagger was slowly bloodying his wrists. No, he wasn't trying to kill himself. There was no point. This wouldn't be enough to kill himself. Blood loss was nothing for a god.

But it was enough to cut through the magic restraints on his wrists.

Why would Loki risk Thor's wrath if he caught Loki doing this?

Because he had passed by Tony's room earlier in the day, had heard him scream and something in Loki ripped apart at the sound, making him throw all caution to the wind.

So he had gone through Thor's things, finding the enchanted daggers that Thor had taken from Loki and used them to cut the restraints off, ignoring whenever it cut into his skin. The pain was nothing to knowing that Tony was in danger from his Alpha.

As soon as he was free of the bands, he teleported from his room to Tony's, not caring for what he might find, only caring about protecting Tony, keeping Tony safe.

But surprisingly, he didn't find Steve there, towering over Tony. Though Tony was clearly not okay.

"Anthony," Loki whispered, kneeling down in front of the figure shaking at the foot of the bed on the floor. "Anthony, Darling, look at me."

Tony wouldn't meet his eyes though, legs against his chest. Loki took comfort in the fact that Tony was clothed though it didn't mean much. If it had happened again, Tony simply could have redressed himself before Loki arrived.

But that wasn't the case. Loki knew because he soon saw the cuts on Tony's wrists and felt his stomach lurch uncomfortably. Tony had tried to kill himself.

"Oh, Anthony, no..." Loki whispered, grimacing at the blood on Tony's hands.

"He s-saw it," Tony stuttered out, shivering slightly. "He saw it and h-he got angry and grabbed m-my wrists and i-it opened back u-up and he h-hit me and...and..."

"Sh, sh. Hush, Anthony," Loki murmured, taking Tony's hands, ignoring the blood over them.

Tony sobbed, shaking his head, trying in vain to tug his hands back. "I can't do it anymore. I c-can't, please, Loki. I don't want him to t-touch me anymore."

Loki's heart broke, remember thinking the same thing two hundred years ago. "You don't have to do this anymore, I swear it."

Tears streaked Tony's face as he continued shaking his head, shivering and muttering under his breath. "There's n-nowhere we c-can g-go and I can't l-leave you h-here with h-him."

Loki had been wondering why Tony hadn't simply got up and left yet despite all of Steve's abuse. Now that he knew why, he both wanted to hug Tony and call him an idiot.

"You won't be leaving me here with him," Loki said, gently brushing his fingers over the cut and was relieved to see his magic working to heal the self inflicted wound. "In fact, you're coming with me, off of this realm entirely."

Tony stared with wide eyes at the newly healed skin, then up at Loki. "You have you're m-magic back? How? W-when?

"About five minutes ago," Loki stated plainly. "Do you want to leave with me, Anthony?"

Tony took a shaky breath, nodding his head. "P-please."

That was all Loki needed to tighten his grip on Tony's hand, pulling him into his waiting arms, pressing his lips to Tony's like he'd been yearning to do since the first time in the lab.

He remembered the words Tony had told him that day after their kiss, echoing in his head now.

'Keep fighting, Loki. Keep fighting because you're all that's stopping me from giving up. Keep fighting for me.'

And Loki had. He had but now...now they didn't have to fight anymore.

In one moment and the next, the pair vanished from the floor of Tony's room and reappeared somewhere far away where neither of them could ever be hurt by any Alpha ever again.

...

@murdermuffinloki I was going to add Bucky into this but then I'd end up writing a whole damn book and I have enough to write as it is but I just couldn't resist writing a oneshot for this, hsusyjwdj. Hope you enjoyed! :D

[spencersmagic]

a knife twists at the thought - SR

Prompt: a knife twists at the thought that i should fall short of the mark - Arctic Monkeys

Summary: Spencer is new to this, and the poor boy is terrified

Couple: Fem! Reader x Spencer Reid (i picture season 2/3 Spencer but y’all do you)

Category: angst

Word count: 3086 words

Warnings: general criminal minds stuff, mentions and descriptions of torture, descriptions of loss, HAPPY ENDING!!, my 3am writing, tooth rotting love, uhmm spoilers for Orwell’s 1984 (if anybody hasn’t read it), humiliation, Spencer crying and breaking my heart (lmk if you need anything warned or trigger tagged).

A/N This is very loosely based on 2x15 (VERY LOOSELY). I’m quite proud of this one :)

masterlist // 505 series taglist

*****

They say you never see it coming.

When a tragedy occurs, and someone’s life is turned upside down forever, they never see it coming. It just... hits them. Like an oncoming car ramming into a bystander who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

No one has time to prepare. In our time-starved lives, there is no place for such a warning.

One day, you just wake up. And they’re not next to you. They’ve disappeared, leaving the stickiest, most unforgettable parts of themselves behind for others to grieve to: the smell of their shampoo in the pillows they used to share, the seconds just as you wake when you still feel like you have them - only to gain full consciousness and realise they left you behind - even the fucking jars, which never seem to be open because he’s just not there to do it.

And you feel your heart breaking all over again as your soul sticks to the parts that couldn’t be erased with the rest of him as he left. Because you needed him, you had him, and now he’s gone. No warning, no letter, no signs which could’ve helped you foresee such a tragedy, because how could he? He didn’t disappear on purpose.

She doesn’t understand why he's so absent. So unequivocally missing. And the person she would turn to to ask these riddled questions isn’t there to answer. Because he’s gone.

But they’re not there yet.

And she feels so close to that feeling - the helplessness, the pain, the empty cups next to her bed because he always carried them to the sink when she was finished with her tea the mornings of those rare days they got to sleep in. Those days when they had time. She can practically touch, with the tip of her fingertips, the waves of pain that would surge over her if he was gone for one more fucking minute.

She has to remind herself, over and over again, like a mantra. He’s not gone yet.

The “yet” at the end of her mantra just breaks her all over again.

She was always the one to tell Spencer “if you worry before something happens, in case it goes wrong, and then it does, you’ve managed to suffer twice through something painful for absolutely no reason”. It usually worked. Needless to say, she felt like a hypocrite right about now.

Because Spencer is gone. And she doesn’t know how to bring him back.

She knows only to watch the monitor, never once blinking, taking in everything that happened in that damned livestream - every word, every sound, every reference. She can only try to hear anything over the whimpers and sobs her love was letting out as he’s tortured by that man. She can only hear the cracks of his knuckles against Spencers soft skin, the same soft skin she had kissed mere hours ago before telling him to “be careful”. Her own way of saying the three little words the couple was too young to hear. She can only see his lips parting, sobs rumbling out of his body as the unsub abuses his frame over and over again - same lips which had kissed her forehead before telling her “i always am”.

Then again, she isn’t sure if its his voice which is filling her head with painful sounds or if her mind is playing tricks on her, memorising the horrifying vibrations coming from his chest for her to ever consider anything else. She hasn’t stopped hearing him since she turned on that damned computer.

She isn’t sure she’ll ever stop hearing it.

**

As a man of great intellect, Spencer always recurred to knowledge to understand difficult occurrences in his life. Burying himself in textbooks, novels, poems, and even music to understand pain, and himself having a life filled with it, he was an incredibly knowledgeable man.

He knew much. But right now, he only knew one thing.

In Orwells’ 1984, as Winston was being tortured (much like Spencer is right now), Orwell described the following:

“Never, for any reason on earth, could you wish for an increase of pain. Of pain you could only wish one thing: that it should stop. Nothing in the world was so bad as physical pain. In the face of pain there are no heroes, no heroes”.

And, as a man who had acquired most of his intellect by immersing himself in trivial content in the face of pain, he found himself doing the same thing as the unsub hurt him over and over again, each blow seemingly more painful than the last. As his skin bruised, a causality of his abusers torment, he analysed the seemingly logical quote.

It must depend on the person, he was sure. In fact, a number of factors must be taken into consideration at this statement. For starters, Winston lives in a society incapable of any human feelings. There is only dominance, and those who attempt, in vain, to challenge it. Surely, if he had felt happiness, like the one you feel when the first day of spring rolls around, or like the one that creeps up on you as you look into the eyes of your loved one, surely, he would understand that some things can outweigh pain.

Love.

If Spencer’s mind could make sense of what he was feeling right now, he would understand, something he would figure of were he to leave this damned place, that he was thankful to the Gods, were there any, for having the unsub kidnap him and not Y/N.

Winston hadn’t understood emotional pain because emotions weren’t dealt with regularly. They were discouraged. That’s why he believed that there are no heroes in the face of pain. Because he doesn’t understand emotional pain.

He knew he was suffering. He also knew that Y/N was at the other side of the blinking camera suffering more than he could ever imagine.

**

They say emotional pain lasts 12 minutes. Anything one feels after this would be the aftermath of the cause of the pain in question. Pure emotional pain, the one you practically feel in your chest, the one that says “i can’t think, feel or be. not until this feeling dissipates”.

She had learned this from Spencer.

And she wished it were true. As she watched that damned monitor, she wished that all the venom the unsub was spewing at Spencer, all the verbal abuse, was long forgotten. She wished he could only feel the physical pain. Because the mind is incredibly stronger than the body - it could keep him awake, alive, for just enough time for the team to rescue him.

The entire team had huddled around the monitor around her. She was painfully aware that other people were seeing this. Which meant it wasn’t her imagination. It wasn’t another one of those damned dreams she would have when she slept a little too far away from Spencer’s touch.

They had only been together for two months, but his touch was all that could get her to fall asleep.

She jolted as the unsub landed another slap on Spencer’s cheek, swiftly grabbing his hair for him to look into the camera. He had a cut above his right cheek, just where she would kiss him in the mornings, and bruises all over his neck, jaw and left eye.

“Say hi to your team!” he mocked Spencer, chuckling darkly as he moved his almost lifeless body around for the team to watch in horror. Spencer let out a heartbreaking sob, feeling so vulnerable.

“Why don’t we make this interesting?” he jumped, as if he had gotten an idea. The unsub reached behind himself to grab a pistol, clicking off the magazine safety to put one bullet in one of the eight slots, leaving the other seven free. He pointed it at Spencer’s temple.

Her entire body shook the thought of seeing Spencer’s lifeless body, held up only by the ropes and that sick man’s grip around his curls. The same curls she grabbed as she kissed his face when she wanted his attention.

“I’m going to ask you some questions...” he said, voice dripping with sickening sweetness as he turned the roulette, “and if i don’t like your answer i’ll pull the trigger! Let God decide what I do with you. Sounds good?”. He wanted to humiliate Spencer.

However, Spencer made the mistake of not answering him. He was quickly reminded as the barrel of the gun pointed right between his eyes, pulling the trigger, a loud bang! sound expanding through the barn.

“I asked you a question!” he suddenly yelled into Spencer’s face.

“Y-yes, Sir” he whimpered, shaking at the ease at which the man pulled the trigger.

“Good, you’re learning”.

**

She experienced it by bits. Hotch’s hoarse voice. “Talk to me Garcia”. “We’ve got coordinates”. Everybody rushing to the SUVs. Tripping over her own feet on the way to the car. Morgan’s voice. The iPad, which still carried Spencer’s whimpers and the man mocking tone.

“I’ve got your diary, Spence” his sing-song voice didn’t match the disgusting man she was looking at. Nothing made sense.

“And I wanna know why...” he drew out the ‘y’ as he looked for something between the worn pages between his hands.

Of course she knew Spencer owned a diary. But she was mature enough to keep her hands to herself and her eyes on her own pages as he wrote on his, eyebrows creasing as he recalled all which he had experienced during the day. His face would twitch slightly at the memories, both good and bad, as he basically described his day word by word.

“...why did you wait until you were 24 to lose your virginity?” he asked in a clear attempt to humiliate and ridicule Spencer in front of his team.

“I-I didn't-” he could barely finish a word before a sob wrecking through his body at the humiliation, chest rumbling and voice wavering. “I didn’t want to lose it before, i w-wasn’t in a hurry” he rushed out. The man brought the pistol to his own chin, tapping it as he thought. “Hmm... I’m satisfied with your answer. Let’s dig deeper, shall we?” he asked as he went back into the pages.

“ooh! This one is new” that sick bastard was having fun with this, completely unaware that the team was less than 5 minutes away from their location.

“Care to read what you wrote three days ago? Right here” he turned the pages so Spencer could read them, though he was painfully aware of that entry he was talking about. His body shook violently. “P-please. D-don’t ma-make me do t-this” he whimpered, body feeling defeated.

“Wrong answer” the unsub said before pointing a gun at him and pulling the trigger.

A shriek was heard from the iPad. The SUV went silent.

“He’s alive” she whispered, unable to speak up. “He-” she swallowed. “He’s alive. We’re not there, yet” her mantra became a reminder that she hadn’t been quick enough to help him. She had the tools to save him. Every second she had the knowledge to save him and didn’t was another second she remained impotent at the risk of losing the love of her life.

Spencer’s voice spoke from the iPad.

“C-can you at-at leas-st turn off t-the ca-amera?” he said between sobs.

And it hit her.

What hurt him the most wasn’t the memories he had to relieve, but the fact that the rest of the team would have to hear his most intimate thoughts. His deepest secrets.

He could bare the pain. The humiliation? That broke him.

“Aww” the unsub chuckled mockingly, “are you embarrassed?” he said, slouching down to look into his eyes. “Well too fucking bad!” he screamed into his face, spitting with every word he spewed at him. Spencer’s sobs got louder.

“O-okay okay!” Spencer caved, accepting the journal that got shoved into his face.

“Read, pretty boy” the unsub sang. That son of a bitch was having fun.

“We’re two minutes away, Y/N” Hotch said. Maybe it was he sobs, which were barely audible to herself, having accepted them as second nature after all the heartbreak she was experiencing, but Hotch needed her to be okay.

His own heart thumped into his chest, feeling as helpless as he’d ever felt. Seeing a member of his team - someone he was supposed to take care of, someone he was supposed to keep safe - was sobbing as he was physically and emotionally tortured. But he was painfully aware of the feelings Y/N was experiencing. The sheer fear that was running down her veins at the idea of them running out of time.

After a few sobs, Spencer started reading, interrupting himself occasionally with his whimpers:

“It’s been three months. Today, three months, seven hours and forty-six minutes ago, she did what I didn’t have the courage to do. She asked me out. “I’ve been wanting to ask you pretty much since the day i met you” she had said. Those words keep ringing in my head like a beautifully written symphony, intrinsically designed to make me face my deepest fears. Opening my scars one by one, dissecting them and reaching the simple conclusion that i was a coward.

She didn’t say it, but what she meant was “i’ve been waiting for you to do it, but you never did, so i had to”. We wasted time - a time so precious and sacred - because i was a coward.

I’ve never felt like this before. I never understood a love so deep as to move something so stubborn as the human spirit. I’ve read textbook after textbook, and novel after novel, and still I’ve never learned more than with her. But I was a coward. And i wasted her time. I fear that I still am.

A knife twists at the thought that i should fall short of the mark. It’s impossible for me to ever be enough for her”.

Her heart broke at this confession. Even worse at the thought that he wouldn’t’ve told her, instead inhaling fear and exhaling rejection at every breath he took next to her.

“We’re here” she heard Hotch, looking at her. She grabbed a bottle of water and dropped the iPad, not hearing the teams objections at the lack of vest and preparation and ran into the barn.

She isn’t sure if she’ll ever stop hearing his whimpers. As she runs closer, she hears them louder and louder, decorated with sobs and cries, and small, meaningless replies to his abusers’ mocking words.

She kicked the door down, the loud bang booming across the room, only helping in raising Spencer’s sobs as he feared the sound had been the result of a certain trigger being pulled. As she looks at him, she realises just how much pain he’s been put through.

She remembers Orwells words, much like how Spencer had remembered them mere hours ago. And disagrees, wishing over and over, praying to the Gods that she would be the victim of such atrocious abuse. She wished she could take his pain. Morgan joined her at her side mere seconds later, yelling. “FBI! Put the gun down!”.

Spencer used the last bit of energy to lunge forward, hitting the unsubs stomach with his head, successfully getting him on the floor for Morgan to apprehend. Y/N rushed to Spencer’s side, untying him, as his now nonexistent sobs grew louder and louder, not only at the prospect of getting out of that horrible place alive, but also at the knowledge that Y/N had heard what he had so dreadfully recited.

Spencer collapsed into her arms, crying into her in the same way she was crying into him, and she wondered just how to take away all his pain. So they cried into each other, desperately grasping each others hair, skin, clothes, anything that would make them feel like they wouldn’t have to spend another damned second without the company of each other.

Spencer was the first to break the silence.

“I need-” he stopped, coughing. She reached for the bottle of water she had brought with her because she knew he would need it. She always knew what he needed.

He chugged it desperately, stray drops falling down his chin at his eagerness. He took a deep breath trying to steady his lungs.

“I need to get out of here” he choked out.

She grabbed him under the shoulders, careful not to hurt him - not being successful, realising that there wasn’t much of him the man hadn’t hurt. Y/N pulled him out, sitting down on the grass with him. Their legs intertwined, pulling each other impossibly closer. They kissed, over and over again. Not as an act of any sexual relevance, but as a reminder that they had each other in any way, shape or form. That they weren’t out of time.

The team was certain they would stay there, never letting each other go for another minute.

After what felt like seconds in their time-starved little world, she broke the silence, which had only been filled with their own cries and occasional sobs.

“Spence” she grabbed his chin to look into his eyes. They were dull, red and hooded. He was exhausted. “Mhmm?” he let out, looking into hers. She was his solace.

“How could you ever think you were anything but completely and unequivocally enough?” she whispered the words he dreaded.

But as Spencer looked into her eyes he knew, better than he had ever known anything, that he was enough. And she was enough. He realised that which she had known for the past three months (possibly longer). They fit like two marvellous puzzle pieces.

Her hands grabbed his cheeks slowly, as to not hurt or startle him, pulling his forehead into hers. “Baby, I can’t imagine anybody else waking up to me every morning. You’re so much more than enough”, she planted a small kiss on his forehead before resuming her position. “I’ll remind you every day of the rest of my life if that’s what it takes for you to believe it”.

And with their eyes closed, foreheads and noses pressed together and legs tangled between each other, pulling each other close, closer - around grass and voices and his abuser pressed into the hood of a police car, they only felt each other. With their shaky breaths, even shakier voices, fearing any words that would leave them in case they triggered a cascade of tears down their oh so vulnerable cheeks, they were more than enough.

***

I hope y’all liked it!! Feel free to let me know by liking, reblogging, or sending me a message :) 

super cool kid taglist: @lady-anon-x​ @spencerreid-mgg​​ @eoupe​ @inlovewithbabygirl​ @galaxydefenderjulia​ @username2002​

[siriusmydeer]

you said ideas for james potter fluff? i have one!! what if your on your period and you like bleed on the bed or something like that and he helps you clean up and is like p”periods are normal when your upset?

his favourite person

james potter x fem!reader

summary: james comforts you on your period.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: period cramps, swearing, kissing, mentions of dying/funerals, pet names, insecurity, mentions of migraines, mentions of razors and injury, mentions of hostility

a/n: so i has to modify this in a way i could write it but i hope you like it !!

the searing burn of agony was beginning to broil in the pit of your belly whilst you had shifted your tensed legs to be clutched in front of your abdomen. the hues of orange spilt from the corners of your lilac curtains as a siren that the day had officially begun, meanwhile the school would be swarming with boisterous and inconsiderate students of their classmate's preferences.

you audibly groaned now breaking the peaceful morning silence, suddenly shoving your hand in your viewpoint before the blaring lights could potentially give you a migraine from the fluoresce light; as well as your stomach could barely endure the swirling affliction that only uplifted as you began to awaken from your blissful as well as pain spared snooze of dreams about treacle tarts and winning the house cup.

every time you gulped it felt like razors were being trapped in the cavern of your throat, anytime you shifted your body beneath your blankets it felt like you were walking a tightrope that had snapped and you had fallen into a pit of sharp rocks that were shaped in fury. you had felt every minuscule amount of pain in your muscles that only to continue as you laid atop of your mattress.

you sighed whilst fluttering your eyelids a few times before haphazardly opening the small drawer that was placed beside your bed, glimpsing beneath your fingers at the empty box of tampons that had been used up from yesterday and you foolishly forgot to refill. you groaned yet again, your motivation ceasing from your body to trudge over to the healer's wing for another box.

amid your mind rant over the first inconvenience of the day the door of your dormitory that mildly creaked due to the ageing hinges from decades ago. auburn hair suddenly cascading in your viewpoint and aquamarine irises staring at you once your hand had been removed from your eyes due to her manipulation.

“lily, are you alright?” you inquired with a tinge of sarcasm lingering in your voice, a small teasing crease in your brow as her face remained to hover over your own. she proceeded to press a small kiss to your temple and swiped some of your mangled tuffs away from your searing cheeks.

“how’re you feeling?” she inquired in a murmur, trying to leave the tranquillity scorning through the air due to the peaceful atmosphere that remained through the night to the early hours of the morning.

“like shit.”

“i assumed, not coming to classes?” she inquired again with a sigh, glancing over your nightstand that was piled with transfiguration homework, a burnt-out candle with wax spilt onto the wooden stand that she would have to scrape off later due to your melancholic mood mixed with your fatigue, and a tea that had been finished more than likely a few days ago that you hadn’t put away in the kitchens yet.

“no, ‘m dying. give me a nice eulogy, love.” you ridiculed with a smirk as your hand moved back to your eyes whilst the natural ivory daylight only began filtering through your dormitory and seeped through the curtains.

“i’ll bring you something after lunch.” she finished with a small kiss on your forehead and the doors creaking yet again as a signal she had left and you were alone yet again with another attempt to sleep away the antagonizing churn of torture coiling in your belly.

as she had trudged off to the gryffindor towers she had run into a familiar bespectacled boy that looked like he had walked into the wrong store after losing his parents as a young boy, his irises moving erratically as well while his hands were anxiously gliding through the familiar brunet tuffs he was almost illustrious for.

as he caught sight of the ginger he began to haul the strap of his nap sack over the burly muscles of his shoulder and strode over to her hastily. his eyes remained searching around the ivory corridors for your house colours in case you were mixed amongst the bunch of students.

“you alright, james?”

he covered his mouth to quickly cough into his fist before he spoke, “yeah, yeah, fine. have you seen y/n? she doesn’t normally miss class.” he articulated with a pronounced frown following a creased brow as he spoke moving his hand around animatedly.

lily’s face began to contort into a rather shocked expression at his surprised demeanour. she scratched the nape of her neck a few times before answering his oblivious question, “yeah, just, erm, lady problems. she’s in her dorm if you wanna see her. but she may be hostile.” she warned with a grin before sauntering off to transfiguration to give professor mcgonagall knowledge and reason of your absence.

“lady problems?” he murmured to himself in evident incertitude. if someone had turned the corner they would’ve blatantly assumed the quidditch captain had gone mad talking to himself rather than figuring out what the gryffindor girl had meant.

did she mean—?

without a second blip of thought, the bespectacled boy opted to skip his classes and rather find out what ‘lady problems’ lily had been rambling about. he trudged to where your common room had remained, and removed the charm on the stairs that had kept males away from entering female dormitories.

he knocked rather harshly without a thought of consideration, hearing a groan emit from the other side. his brow corrugated in a simian frown, only more evident in his features as he pushed open the door steadily. he heard the creaking in the hinges— almost like it was a small bell ringing every time someone had emerged from the other side.

his eyes swooped over the crevices of the room, the small pile of clothes that was spewed out on a chair with creasing forming in them, your school bag is thrown at the side of your bed with textbooks and ink pots spilling onto the floor as well as your bed comforter tremendously crumpled and piled over your silhouette as well as your head.

“darling?” he whispered. his footsteps light on the wood floor as he strode closer. he heard a little ‘mhm’ murmur out underneath the blankets whilst he moved near the four-poster bed.

“‘m guessing lily told you.”

“yeah, lily told me.”

“go away, i’m embarrassed enough as it is.” you began to articulate sternly. your head popping out from under the covers to narrow your eyes into a cerulean pool of blue. his face twisted into shambles of perplexity at your abnormal request of his absence when usually you enjoyed his company regularly.

“why? it’s like— normal.” he questioned with a confused scowl, he continued, a scrambling amount of letters forming in his mind as a way to comfort you as best as he knew. “because, you're a girl. and girls go through all that stuff.” he continued while placing himself on the side of your bed. your brows formed a subtle crease at his regard for your rather agitated and embarrassed state.

you deliberated for a few seconds, opting to pull down the covers of the opposite side of your bed allowing the boy to remove his shoes along with his slacks that hastily fell to the ground and climb next to you as you slowly shifted due to the tensing of your muscles.

“do you want me to grab you anything, m’love.” he murmured into your clothed shoulder, a tender kiss following in its wake. you closed your eyes, your view completely diminishing whilst relishing in the feeling of his mellow torso completely melding into your own like a personal heater that happened to be your cuddler of a boyfriend.

“yeah, but not right now.”

he nodded into your neck, his arms slowly capturing your midriff in a warming clutch. his left palm splaying against your lower abdomen, the balmy touch dissolving into the tense muscles of your belly— pushing you into moderate peace after the comparatively antagonizing morning you had endured.

it was silent for a few minutes, both of you completely cherishing the silence and peace among the both of you. his slight respires fanning over your neck while his hand stayed intact with your lower abdomen. “i don’t want you to be embarrassed when something like this happens. you’re my girl, i don’t want you to hide from me.”

“‘m sorry i just get so— upset and angry, i didn’t want you to think i was annoying or something.” you murmured back demeaningly with a faint sniff, the slight play of guilt on your sensorium building at your sensitive demeans of the week following your mood fluctuations, feeling as if you’ve ignored someone who cares for you. “no need to be sorry,” he began, kissing against the pulse point of your neck, “could never think my favourite person is annoying.”

“‘m not sirius.”

“no offense to sirius, but he’s not m’favourite person.”

“hmm, so s’me?” a smirk began to graze your lips at his dulcet demeanour, most likely because you had been a wretched mess of mood swings like a seesaw going back and forth since the crack of dawn. he nodded bashfully into the confined space of your shoulder. “‘m honoured, jamie.”

he chuckled once before faintly squeezing your upper midriff once more, attempting to completely avoid your lower belly in efforts to soothe you from the writhing pain he had never been accustomed to but he would siphon every single last bit if he could.

“you should be, ‘m the muscular, sexy, hot quidditch captain.” he mused with a grin quirking on his lips at the fact you were beginning to recuperate at his affections.

cocky beautiful bastard.

taglist: @kittykylax @ronbrokemyheart @aspiringsloth20 @amourtentiaa @msmb @five-cups-of-coffee @emmaev @serenitywilderness @artemis1orion @miss-starkov @siriusbarnesslut @inglourious-imagines @i-love-scott-mccall @emmaev @famdomhideout @hufflepogue @kirascottage @luvvninaz @miraclesoflove @black-like-my-soul @slytherclawbitch @90steaology

[toshigimmemilk]

genre: ANGST w/ a lil comfort (clues towards that reader will get better with love and time)

warning: 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐜𝐲𝐜𝐥𝐞, 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠.

characters: !timeskip iwaizumi x !gn reader (past)

!timeskip osamu miya x !gn reader (present)

ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: ghostin by ariana grande ───────────────⚪────────────── ◄◄⠀▐▐ ⠀►► 1:17 / 3:48 ⠀ ───○ 🔊 ɴᴇxᴛ ᴜᴘ: dancing with your ghost by sasha alex sloan - a/n: i hope u guys like this. this was originally supposed to be ushijima instead of iwa. anyways im trying to better my writing so pls lmk what y’all thinking. sorry for the bad writing.

is it fair that you should feel like this, especially at night while lying next to your current lover thinking of a figure of your past, someone you loved so long ago? the tear soaked pillow that muffled each sob would disagree.

iwaizumi hajime was it for you. he was the one you’d been waiting for but some would say, right person wrong time, and boy were they right.

you hate thinking about that night. the night he left you so suddenly, cold and alone and each night you cried, you cried enough to fill olympic sized pools. you wish he had left you for someone else, that would be better than whatever this is, you thought. iwaizumi had left you to get food when the crash happened. it’s all my fault you thought, i should’ve just went to sleep hungry. the trip to the hospital was a blur and all those night spent in the hospital pleading to the celestial beings up above to save the love of your life who was now clinging to life with bare chances of opening his eyes again.

the fateful incident would end up being devastating for you both. a lively household once filled with love and laughter turned into a prison cell where only quiet sobs were the only thing that rang through the house.

the funeral was a haze. soft cries and whispers of sorry’s that meant nothing to you. it won’t bring him back.

every moment and every item reminded you of him. you hadn’t slept in his part of the bed, his reminder from that night still left in the bed, ruffled bedsheets, a used towel on the nightstand and a pillow that smelled like him. you hadn’t even dared to go near that side, too afraid that if you touched that too, it will also leave you.

too afraid to open his closet and see his clothes, his jersey, and his shoes. how cruel, you thought. how cruel was it that you have to be reminded of him constantly and your body and mind didn’t want to do anything to change that.

too afraid to move on and too afraid that he might be sad that you’re moved on from him and his love. it’s what he would want, he would want you to be happy, that’s what they all said but was that really true? you told yourself that there was no one else for you, only hajime. you were so accustomed to his love and now that it’s gone, were you even capable of loving someone else, someone that’s not him? the idea seemed impossible to you.

that fact couldn’t be more true, even years later as you laid in bed with another but still thinking of your former lover. nights seemed to be the hardest, it always is. all those hidden feelings and emotions always seem to pour out at night.

there was nothing you could do to stop the tears, sobbing quietly as you grazed your fingers over the face of the man that laid next to you. his face relaxed as he slept but it felt cruel to torture him like that, it wasn’t fair of him to carry a burden like this and shifting your body to face the other side you couldn’t help but cover your mouth as another sob escape your lips.

osamu miya was a force to be reckoned with. he loved you so hard and proud that the guilt in your heart only increased thinking about it. he’s done so much to fix you, carrying your baggage as if it was his own and helped you so much when he didn’t have to.

you met osamu while running errands, earlier that day, feeling too depressed to even get out of bed you’d finally decided that you should get your life back on track. deciding to go get some groceries to finally start making meals for one, crying some more at the thought that there will be no more shared breakfasts, no more staying cuddled in bed and rush hour in the house but just you and your loneliness.

osamu had accidentally bumped into you causing you to drop your oranges all over the floor, the sight causing your lips to wobble and he took note of this as soon as he looked at your face. “hey hey it’s okay. ‘m sorry. didn’t see ya”. you sighed, just what i needed you thought. you excused yourself from him but chasing you down he convinced you to come and eat at his restaurant, onigri miya but much to your reluctance, he still dragged you there.

from then on, osamu would try to invite you to come to his restaurant. you bumped into him frequently and soon you started to become friends but it was still hard for you to go out there and socialize after what you had been through.

osamu was there. he was there on your worst days. he was there when you told him, how you lost a half of you to date, he was there at nights to hold you while you cried. he was there to wipe your tears away. he was there. he fed you on days when you were struggling. he cleaned you up on days when you couldn’t get out of bed. he sat you down next to the tub and washed your hair. he was there.

you soon started to open your heart to him but you were still afraid to take that small leap, afraid that if you jumped and there was no safety net, who was going to catch you?

he told you about himself, much more than you had ever known and heard about him through his brother. he was funny, kind, very caring and he was just perfectly himself.

you should be moved on by now, osamu thought as he watched you turn over and hearing you muffled sobs. every night he’d pretend to sleep so you wouldn’t feel embarrassed to cry and each night he wanted to reach out and hold you but something in him held him back. he just let you let it all out.

he knows that you know about him knowing how you cry at night. he knows that you wish that iwaizumi was here in his place, and after everything that you both had been through there was so much he wanted to do with you, so much love he wanted to give you and so many things he wanted to show you.

you were so grateful for osamu. he’s been so good to you, so understanding about you and you were guilty and afraid that you were putting him through so much than he signed up for. you knew how much osamu’s heart would break everytime he heard you cry and you wished that he would admit how much it hurts him and how much pain it’s causing him too.

osamu knew you hated yourself so much for putting him through all this trouble but he was okay with waiting. he will be there for you as long as you need him even if you cried for a man that no longer exists in your own shared bed.

he knows that he will be there for you no matter how long it will take, a little bit of baggage is nothing for him compared to how much he truly loves you.

ending notes: this wasn’t that good ik. i promise i’ll get better. also i used the lyrics and references. pls those two songs has me so depressed on bag nights. anyways love y’all 💗

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Lavender Lace

Pairings: Tom Holland x Femdom!Reader

Summary: Edging Tom (no plot whatsoever which is super rare here cause I’m a slut for plot)

Warnings: Edging (male receiving), unprotected sex (because it’s a fic and there is no pregnancy or STD’s unless I say lol), Dom!Reader-Sub!Tom, Creampie, Cockwarming, Reader doesn’t cum (sorry)

Word Count: 1860

A/N: I wrote most of this on my phone so I’m sorry if there are any words that autocorrect changed. I looked through and changed the ones I saw but just in case I missed any, my apologies!

Part 2 out now!

______________________

Tom lied on the bed, hands tied up above his head to the bed frame. His beautiful body was on full display against the sheets, small freckles adorning his taut skin. A glistening layer of sweat made every dip and rise of his body shine deliciously, his defined muscles exaggerated by the light shining off it. His chest heaved up and down as he attempted to calm himself down yet again and his biceps flexed as he pulled against his restraints. “Fuck! Please, please please…” His voice was broken and desperate- but not quite desperate enough.

“Awe, Tommy. You’re doing so well,” you cooed, rubbing your hand lovingly across his firm thigh, “But I think you can go a little longer.“

Tom groaned in frustration, his cock already painfully hard and leaking precum. He hissed and bucked up into your hand when your hand went back down to pump his impressive length. Your hand glided up and down, adding a twist at the top around the tip. “Please-”

You stopped your movement but kept your hand still on his member, shaking your head, “No cumming until I say.” You chided, voice gentle in stark contrast to the torture you’d been putting him through for the last hour. Tom’s hips bucked upwards again, desperate for release, making you chuckle, “Look at you. So handsome. So desperate.” After a few moments, his breathing calmed down and your fingers circled feather light across his pelvis and down over his thighs, “Let’s get you a little more desperate.”

Tom shook his head, “I need to cum. Please, please let me!”

You almost felt bad for your boyfriend. He looked almost in pain and you really did want to please him more than anything but you also knew that he loved this torture. If he really wanted you to stop, he only had to say the safe word. That weird simple little word had yet to leave his lips, which meant the fun could go on, guilt free.

Your middle finger circled his tip, so agonizingly light that he couldn’t tell if you were there or his brain was just creating sensations to cope with the torture. “Just a few more, love. Think of how good it will feel when you finally get to cum.” With that, you licked a long, slow stripe up the underside of his length before taking only his tip into your mouth and swirling your tongue, lapping up the abundant pre-cum that had been practically pouring out at this point.

Tom pulled at his hand restraints aggressively, “Agh!” He almost screamed out as you brought him to the edge yet again with only small kitten licks to his tip while you stroked his shift with your hand. Tom was so painfully close, it only took mere seconds before he was crying out again.

“I’m gonna cum!” He warned and you took your hand off completely, causing him to cry out. You crawled up his body, kissing a line up along the way. You made sure that his cock rubbed through the valley of your breasts, concealed by a lacey lavender push up bra that did wonders for your chest. When you made your way to his lips, you straddled his waist, just above where he needed you most, and kissed his lips.

“What number was that?” You whispered lightly into his ear.

His eyes opened to find yours only mere inches away and he could have cried. You looked beautiful. Sultry, sexy, confident. Tom, on the other hand, appeared to be a few seconds from tears. His big beautiful chocolate eyes were practically black, pupils blown so wide they nearly overwhelmed his entire irises. His brown curls stuck to his forehead from where he’d attempted to desperately bury his head in the pillows. “Nine.” Tom managed barely, only able to focus on the intense pressure between his legs.

You kissed him again, lifting yourself off him just enough to move the thin fabric of your thong aside before sitting back down, his length sliding between your slick folds as you rocked your hips.

“Fuck!” He hissed out, eyes screwed shut. He had already been so close that this alone almost sent him over the edge.

Your nails scratched lightly over his chest as your ground on him. You moaned a little when his head bumped your clit as he passed through your folds, so close to finally being inside you. “You’ve been such a good boy, Tommy. Where do you want to cum?” You asked, reaching over his head to untie the scarf you’d had him bound by. Immediately, his hands were on your hips.

He timidly asked, “Inside you?” Even after all these years together and the fact you were on birth control, it was still a request he felt weird making.

You smiled against his skin as you licked up his neck, still moving your hips against him, “You can cum inside me when I hit ten, understand?”

“I don’t think I’ll make it. I’m already s-so close.” Tom stuttered when he felt the tip of his cock finally slide into your warmth.

You squeezed your walls around him, just to torture him a little more, “You’re gonna have to, love. If you cum before I say, I’m gonna have to stop and ruin it.”

A genuine look of fear ran through Tom’s eyes and you knew he’d behave for you. He wanted this - nay, needed this - so badly. You began to bounce on his length, his cock rubbing against every wonderful spot inside you. Your hands came to your breasts, palming them through the thick fabric of your bra. “One.”

Tom’s hands struggled to stay on your hips, knowing you might edge him longer if he stepped out of line, “Let me touch you.” He begged and you only nodded, reaching for his hands and placing them on your breasts. He pulled the fabric down and raked his nails gently over your nipples, making you breathe out in pleasure.

“Two,” You moaned out, “Three.” You kept bouncing and you could feel him twitch inside you. “Four. Five.”

“I’m not gonna make it. I’m so close.” Tom was almost crying, legs struggling to stay still as he used every ounce of willpower to not let go here and no. He was so close, all it would take was a millisecond of losing concentration to snap.

You slowed down and just sat on him yet again, not moving but clenching your walls around his aching member and he audibly whined, “You’re gonna make it or I’m gonna get off and leave you writhing on the bed. Then you can watch while I finish myself off. That what you want?”

He shook his head aggressively, his hands moving back down to your hips to keep you in place, “No, no, no! I’ll make it to ten!” You noted the movement of his hands and maybe if he hadn’t been so well behaved all this time, you would have punished him a little more for trying to take control but you could see in his eyes how painfully desperate he was, how hard he was trying to be good. You wouldn’t punish him for it - this time.

“Good.” You began to swivel your hips, just like you knew he loved it and he threw his head back into the pillows, eyes shut tight as he struggled to keep his composure. “Six. Seven.” You reached down and ran your thumb gently across his cheek where an actual tear slid down, still moving on his cock, still drawing this out, “Eyes open, love.” Tom struggled to comply, knowing that one of the only things keeping him from busting right this second was trying to take his mind anywhere but this situation. Seeing you looking so damn sexy bouncing on his cock was sure to send him over. But he managed to pry his lids open and lock eyes with your blown out orbs. You bit your lip and smiled, “You’re doing such a good job. Eight.”

“Shit!” A broken moan tumbled from his lips as he flexed every muscle in his body to keep it at bay. He was gonna snap and there was nothing he could do about it, especially at this painfully slow pace you’d been counting at.

“Nine.”

Tom’s heart raced as he waited for that last number, that last bit of permission before you would let him finally release. He didn’t think he’d ever been this painfully hard and it made him look back at every other time he ever thought he had blue balls and smack his past self. He had no idea what it was like to be this achingly close. “Please, please-”

“Ten. Cum for me baby.” You finally allowed, raking your fingers down his body, making sure to graze over his nipples.

The orgasm hit him like a semi, crashing into across his body hard and fast the very moment you permitted it. “Agh! Fucking hell!”! He was nearly sobbing, his hands squeezing tightly into your hips and bouncing you up and down at just the right pace. Again, something you let slide. He had just been so good for you, he deserved it. His seed shot deep into you, warm and overflowing and waves of pleasure just kept coming. Tom didn’t think he’d ever cum this hard or long in his life, himself surprised when more and more hot ribbons seemed to just. Keep. coming.

Finally, he slowed down, arms slackening weakly against your thighs as he came down from his high. He was still sheathed inside you, his seed leaking out around his cock, down his cock and along your inner thighs. You had never been so full and you didn’t want it to end. You leaned forward, coming to lay on his chest, head in the crook of his neck. When you moved, your walls instinctively fluttered around his sensitive cock and Tom hissed, his grip suddenly tightening on you as the stimulation became too much.

Once you had positioned yourself comfortably on his chest, he wrapped an arm around your body, rubbing large stripes up and down your side. You twirled his hair in your fingers and listened to his wrecked breathing with a bit of pride knowing you made him feel this good. “You did so good for me, Tommy.”

He sighed heavily, “Thank you.” You giggled a little, knowing his brain was still moving a little slow. He wasn’t thanking you for the compliment- he was thanking you for finally letting him cum.

“Wasn’t too much?” You asked, hoping you didn’t go overboard. Logically, you knew he’d use the safe word if it was too much but you just wanted to be sure you hadn’t gotten a little too lost in the power.

Tom shook his head with a chuckle, pulling you closer into his body, hissing yet again when your heat shifted around his overstimulated softening length. “Just right. Any more and I might have died, though.”

You both laughed at his joke before you cooed in his ear, “Oh, love, you can take it. We’ll just have to break your record next time.”

[dancingintheraindreamingonday]

Adoration - Part 3

Summary: You are loosing your control and things are going bad...

Warnings: non, just fluff and feels

Pairing: Bucky x angel!reader

Author’s note: Thank you to everyone who’s reading my story. Currently going through a tough time, so your kind words are making me indescribable happy. English is not my first language but I hope you will enjoy it anyways. :D

Part 1 and Part 2 

Bucky didn’t sleep well this night. He lay down in his room and soon fell asleep but his nightmares were already waiting for him. He watched the Starks begging for their lives. A young and innocent man trying to get into his hotel room- scared for his life. Suddenly the surrounding changed and Bucky found himself standing in a meadow. The grasses were tickling his hands and he felt the sun shining on his back. „Bet you can’t catch me.“, sang a soft voice and Bucky looked for the source of the voice. He narrowed his eyes to a slit as he tried to focus on a person. Bucky saw a woman waving at him. Her long hair was blowing in the wind but he couldn’t see her face. Bucky knew this place. He has been here before. He started running towards the woman but she ran away, he heard her laughing. He almost reached her but suddenly she faded away. The sky darkened and an uneasy feeling settled in Bucky. „I can’t see you, I can’t feel you. Buck, where are you?“ The soft voice sounded desperate, almost like crying. „I’m here. I’m here.“, he screamed. The wind got stronger and he had problems standing. „I’m here.“, he whispered. 

Bucky woke up soaked with sweat. The alarm let him know that he only slept for half an hours even though it felt like an eternity. His hands were hiding his face, trying to catch his breath. As his feet hit the ground he was greeted with coldness ensuring him that he was back to reality. He trotted to the red couch in the common room, hoping that you were right and that he can sleep on it without having nightmares. 

You were laying on your bed, sleeping restlessly. You were back in heaven, surrounded by dozen of angels all observing you with interest. A man was chained in the middle. You squinted your eyes to try to identify his face but you couldn’t. „I can’t. I can’t do it. I love him.“, you said, dropping your sword. A loud voice was mocking you. „Love? We are angels. Archangels. We don’t love. We adore Him and only him. You know the consequences, (y/f/n).“. You nodded. A murmur went through the crowd. „You won’t be welcome here anymore. You will be a fallen. You will forget most of this and you will forget him.“, The voice is hard and unsympathetic. „I accept the consequences. Just… spare his life.“

You woke up, breathing hard. You didn’t dream, you remembered. Your head was aching tremendously and your throat was dry like the dessert. You decided to spend the night on the couch but you realized that it’s already preoccupied by a handsome man. 

„I thought, you don’t dream?“, said Bucky, opening his eyes. „I don’t. I just remembered something from the past.“ He threw back the covers and patting on the couch to his left, indicating that you can sleep there too. „I don’t want to invade your personal space.“, you said. „I will just go back to my room.“

„Don’t be silly. C’mere. The couch is big enough for both of us.“ You grinned and lay down. „For an angel, you have really cold feet.“, 

„Sorry.“ You snuggled into Bucky, definitely invading his personal space but calming down as soon as you smelled him. Bucky was your drug and you were addicted to him. „Do you want talk about what you dre… I meant,  remembered?“, he asked, caressing your hair. „I remembered my trial. It was horrible.“ Your hand clutched on Bucky’s shirt. „What about you?“

Bucky looked outside the window „I can’t remember my dream.“ He lied.

The next morning, Bucky woke up from a dreamless sleep, only to find your hand clenched to his shirt. Sweat had formed on your forehead and your face was twisted in pain. „(Y/f/n).“, Bucky tried to wake you up. „(Y/f/n), wake up. Wake up!“, His voice got louder and more desperate. Steve stormed into the room. Bucky looked helpless as he shook you. „She isn’t waking up.“ He screamed

You began glowing, finally opening your eyes..

You fell on your knees, your long (y/h/c) hair were hiding your face. A small silver diadem was on your head. You didn’t wear your pajamas anymore, instead a long white, silvery dress

A long and heavy sword laid next to you. But the most intimidating thing were your wings. Bucky was shocked and perplexed. They were gigantic, reaching the ceiling and went from one side of the room to the other. The wings were white with small golden sprinkles but the tips were ebony. He had never seen something so beautiful. You pressed your hands on your face. „Something’s wrong. I can’t control it.“ You sobbed 

Bucky walked slowly towards you and kneeled to look directly in your face. 

He touched your cheeks softly in an attempt to calm you.

You couldn’t see Bucky anymore. Instead you were sitting on gras. Another person was there, but you couldn’t see his face, even thought he was so close. „It’s my last day here. Tomorrow I’m going to war.“ The voice sounded proud, but also extremely devastated. „I wish we had more time.“ You said. „We will. When I come back, I’ll never ever leave you again.“ He said, taking something out of his pocket. „If I could, I would marry you right away… You know that, don’t you? But I want to give you the wedding you deserve. I want to be the man you deserve. So, (y/f/n), I’m asking you to wait for me and I’ll promise to give you the life you deserve.“, The man said, opening his palm. A small thin ring was lying in it. It had a tiny stone in the middle. „It’s beautiful.“, You blushed. „I would wait an eternity to be with you.“ You kissed him softly. 

The picture changed again. „Throw that pathetic ring away. You’re delusional and acting childish. Forget it. Forget him.“ You weren’t on earth anymore. You played with the ring every time you felt lonely which made your brothers and sisters aware of it. „I will.“ You answered the commanding voice. You took off the ring, but instead of throwing it away you morphed the ring into a small necklace. You put on the necklace and hid it beneath your dress's collar. 

You blinked, finally gaining your control. Your hand searched for the small necklace on your neck. Relief went through your body as you found it. Slowly your sword and your wings disappeared. You leaned against Bucky’s broad chest as you looked like the girl minutes ago. „I’m loosing my mind, Buck.“, you mumbled and then being greeted by darkness as you passed out. 

Bucky carried you to the couch and lay you softly down. „What happened?“, Nat and Steve looked expectantly in Bucky's direction but he just shook his head. „I… I have absolutely no idea.“

„Maybe I can help?“ Said a fancy voice. A woman stood in the entrance. She was tall with brown-chestnut hair that were put in a neat bun. 

„My name is Rahel. I’m here for protection. I’m like her.“, She explained, nodding her head in your directions

„Do you know her?“ Bucky didn't trust her and he wouldn’t allow her to come any closer to you.

„Well not personally but she’s an icon. Her story is legend. 

(Y/f/n) was one of the four most powerful archangels. She fought in every war, sometimes leading the soldiers. She was extremely powerful and kind. After the rebellion she started to visit earth more often to learn more about humans and humanity. And then on one mission she walked into this man. Well he was more of a boy back then.“ Rahel laughed like she was there when it happened. „It was love at first sight. She stayed on earth for months. But both were soldiers- she was needed in heaven and he was going to war as well. However, she always kept an eye on him. And when he was in a life-threatening situation she came to save him. She left her position to safe him. When other men came she thought he’d be safe but they were evil. They captured him and she was absolutely miserable. She tried to ease his pain with her powers but one day she decided to end this torture. So as he was fighting against ... well ... the  good guys she made sure that those would recognize him and help him. And they did. The archangels were furious. She wasn’t just ignoring her war but she was also changing destiny. They burned out her memories of him and gave her two options. Kill him and stay in heaven or spare his life and fall.“ 

„So you know who he is?“ Steve was suspicious of this woman, not entirely trusting her either.

„Of course. Every angel does.“

„Tell us.“ Bucky commanded but she smiled smugly

"No. I can’t and I won’t. Forgetting him his her punishment. I can’t ignore the instruction.“

Rahel was slowly walking towards you. „I can feel her inner disunity. She is trying to remember but she won’t find more memories of him in her mind. They aren’t there anymore.“ She touched you on your forehead that made you wince. Bucky was rushing towards you but Rahel was stopping him with her hand.

„No, you stay away from her. It was you that made her lost her control.“ 

„What? Me? I didn’t do anything.“ He said in defensive and insulted.

„Your soul is calm but your mind is pure chaos. You will trigger her. She’s in a very sensible state right now.“

Bucky felt horrible. He was the one that made her relive her worst moments. 

You slept for more than a week in your room till you woke up. Your headache was killing you and your whole body hurt. 

„Are you going somewhere?“ You were shocked to see Bucky with a packed backpack sitting on the couch waiting for something.

„You’re up.“ His relief was indescribable but you were crossing your arms.

„I’m leaving for Wakanda. They offered me to get better. And that’s a chance I’m definitely going to take.“

„Without saying goodbye?“ You were hurt that he wanted to leave while you were passed out. You had the feeling that he was stealing himself away. 

„I…I didn't want to hurt you again.“ He whispered.

„You never hurt me before, Bucky.“ You wanted to touch him but he took a step backwards.

„No. You can’t touch me. Rahel said, that I was the reason for you to be in pain and I'm sorry for that.“

„Rahel said that? Interesting…“, you said this more to yourself. „Buck, I can assure you that you were not the reason. If anything you were the reason to calm me.“ You tried to assure him but he didn’t look convinced.

„I want to give you something.“ You unlocked your necklace and put it on Bucky.

„I’ve heard that humans believe in lucky charms. So maybe this could be yours? It may or may not have a bit angel power in it.“ You smiled.

„It’s beautiful.“ he said as he touched the small pendant.

„I will become a good man.“ He promised; omitting the words For you 

„You already are a good man.“

„Can I kiss you goodbye?“ You nodded. Bucky leaned down. He pressed his hard lips on your soft ones. You closed your eyes, hands resting on his broad shoulders. He wrapped his arms around your waist, securing you and pulling you closer to him.

„Wait for me, yeah?“ He whispered against your lips. 

„I would wait an eternity for you.“ You answered, getting the feeling that you have said those words before.

Bucky, Steve and Rahel arrived in Wakanda the next day. Over the past week Bucky got the feeling that Rahel and Steve got closer, that Steve trusted this chick even though they knew nothing about her.

Bucky lay down as Shuri was running some tests. „Is the girl outside the room your girlfriend?“, she asked curiously. Bucky was surprised. He turned to his left only to see Rahel’s eyes fully trained on him. „No, she’s just an acquaintance.“ Bucky answered, mindlessly playing with the necklace. „Ah, I get it. The girl who gave you that is your girlfriend.“, She nodded with her head to his necklace, smiling sincerely.

When Steve and Rahel came back from Wakanda you were already waiting for them. Your sword lay next to you but otherwise you looked normal. 

As Rahel walked through the door you held your sword’s blade against her throat

"Who are you?“ Steve had never heard so much authority and power in your voice.

„(Y/f/n) what are you doing?? That’s Rahel. She helped you.“ He said shocked

„I may have forgotten a lot of things but I know that Rahel died years ago in the big war. You locked me into my mind for a week and you told Bucky that it was his fault. So, I’m asking you again. Who are you? Reveal yourself!“, you commanded.

„Good to know that you haven’t forgotten everything, sister.“ Rahel’s beautiful face changed and a man was standing in her spot. Steve looked disturbed and disgusted while pursing his lips.

„Nathaniel, what are you playing at?“ 

„To make sure that history isn’t repeated. That you come to your senses and face the consequences. There is war up there and its entirely your fault.“ He shouted angrily.

„What? What war?“

„Like a civil war. Angels against Angels. Adoration versus human love. You choosing a mere human over heaven had dozen of consequences. You are a constant danger, a constant threat to heaven. You are the face of the revolution and I will no longer allow it.“ Before he could touch his weapon your sword already cut his throat. Orange light shone brightly and then it and his body disappeared. 

“What the heaven?!”

@jessyballet​  @geek-and-proud​ @xlostinobsessionsx​ @cataves​ @intothesoul​ @beminetokeep @ebxny27 @ceo-of-daichi​ @bluemoon-icecream-blog​ @peterbparkersbae​ @bbl32

[dr3amofagame]

as of yet unnamed ghost!dream au

here’s some of a ghost!dream au that i’ve been working on for the last few days!! it’s been Fun - definitely one of my favorite current aus, along w/ vegas team 2.0 and others. it’s a really ,, bittersweet c!sam + c!dream centric au that’s equal parts fluffy and messed up, and my goal is to (somehow) wrangle this mess into some sort of happy ending 

anyway, i hope you all enjoy!! definitely look out for more of this in the future, and a future name change when i get around to thinking of one that Fits lmao 

tw: blood, violence, implied torture, abuse, description of dead bodies, unhealthy relationships, emotional distress, unhealthy coping mechanisms, grief, death, dehumanization

Sam woke up to fifty pounds of fur smacking him in the face.

He startled, stumbled to awareness as he struggled to breathe from the newfound weight on his chest. It took a few moments for his vision to clear up enough to see what was right in front of him, but his lips quirked up in a small smile as Fran sat, self-satisfied, with her paws pressed against his collarbones, looking for all the world like she was priding herself in her win.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up." He ran a hand through the fur on her head, got a bark in return. The smile dropped, however, when his brain - still foggy with sleep - began to drag itself into awareness, bringing with it a whole slew of unpleasant memories that largely made him want to crawl back under the covers for another week, please.

Fran barked again, headbutted him insistently, and he pushed away the thoughts with a bleary shake of his head. As much as he wanted to avoid his responsibilities, experience had taught him otherwise, and what was he without his duty, now?

He was halfway through the process of putting on his armor when he realized, hands falling from the straps they had been readjusting, lips pulled into a thin line.

Oh.

Right.

Fran barked again, probably noticing his hesitance, making a point of ramming her head into the backs of his legs again when he stood still for a little too long. Sam stared at his hands for a moment, then another, before going to undo the fastenings of his netherite chestplate and hang it back up on the stand.

He wouldn’t be needing those for a while, would he?

“Hey girl.” He kneeled down to scratch Fran by the ears, smiling softly when she closed her eyes in satisfaction. He usually didn’t have any time to spend with her, not with him needing to check on the prisoner in the morning to make sure he would be ready for Quackity’s visits at noon and his afternoons usually filled with his work at Las Nevadas and on his own bank and keeping the prisoner alive-

Sam breathed out a little too harshly, reaching for the Warden’s communicator he kept tucked in his chest pocket. The same words stared at him in the morning light, clear and damning.

Dream was slain by Quackity using [Warden’s Will].

It had been an accident, in the end. He hadn’t been listening well enough, Quackity’s shouts blending with Dream’s ragged screams making up the same painful two-note song that filled most of his days, when the cell - steadily growing in sound for the past hour, as Quackity (inevitably) became more desperate and the prisoner (inevitably) forwent any attempts at holding back his pain - suddenly went silent.

The quiet itself was enough to raise his hackles, have him reaching for a pearl as he clicked open his communicator; the quiet “Sam?” from Quackity only made them rise more.

By the time he reached the other side, his communicator was already buzzing with the notification he’d known would appear, in the end, and Dream was lying still with a sword shoved through his chest.

---

Sam hadn’t really reacted, when he first realized. He set upon the task of cleaning up the aftermath much the same way as he approached everything nowadays, quick, efficient, and methodical. He sent Quackity away to wash off the worst of the blood, not bothering to follow him across the lava; it’s not like there was any prisoner that could take advantage of the loosened security, anymore. With the winged man gone, he resigned himself to the job of dealing with the remains of the prisoner.

In the heat of the lava, the body hadn’t even cooled yet, the blood flowing from it- him- whatever, still warm to the touch. Sam eased off the cracked remains of the mask, heart momentarily seizing at the sight of the face underneath it; gaunt, pale, and stretched in memories of pain that it could no longer feel, it- he looked anything but peaceful. His eyes were still blown open in fright, bright green eyes long-dulled, a smattering of freckles over the bridge of his nose and cheekbones thrown in sharp relief from the paleness of his skin. Even with the scars on every visible inch of skin, he looked- young, like a scared kid, expression tortured even in death, and Sam could feel echoes of horror beating against his skull like a heartbeat. With a slightly shaking hand, he closed Dream’s eyes - the man was dead. It was the least he could do.

He must’ve spent a solid few minutes carefully bandaging each cut and gash, still sluggishly weeping blood - not that it meant anything, with him dead, but it felt - necessary, to at least give him this much dignity after death. He was covered in blood, some of it fresh, most of it not, but after wiping away the worst of it from his skin (his hair and clothes had been a lost cause for a long time), he almost looked- human. It wasn’t a perfect image; he was far, far too still to be anything like the Dream that Sam remembered, and there were more bandages than exposed skin, at this point, skin paper-white against the black of the obsidian floor and the air still thick with the smell of blood, but if he squinted a little he could almost imagine that Dream was only sleeping. That nothing had happened.

Nothing had happened.

Or at least- nobody could know what did happen. Not with Dream’s death meaning that the information of the revival book was lost forever, not when his death would open up a whole can of worms that both he and Quackity would be better off not having to deal with for the rest of time, thank you very much. Keeping it all a secret wouldn’t be that hard, all things considered; he could turn away visitors with the excuse of preventing something like Tommy’s death from happening again, and it’s not like anyone was particularly preoccupied with thinking about the conditions of the prisoner. He and Quackity would have to think of a better excuse in the future, but now wasn’t the time. All he had to do was get Dream’s body out of Pandora and away from people’s prying eyes; everything else could come after.

Picking up Dream took less effort than he expected; even though the man was a dead weight, he hardly seemed to weigh anything in Sam’s arms. Making their way out of the prison was much harder, but with a few well-placed enderpearls and the abuse of quite a few guard mechanisms, they were out under the night sky. It was a clear night: the moon nearly full, the stars bright and twinkling; it was the kind of night that Dream loved, once.

He bit back the thought as soon as it came. Dream was dead and those days were gone. There wasn’t any point of thinking about them, now.

He ended up carrying the man to a patch of forest against the beaches behind the prison, burying him without much fanfare and pulling out a piece of cobble to serve as a shoddy headstone. It was a small and lonely grave in the middle of a woods that no one ever visited, the cobblestone dull and easy to miss. Only Sam would know where it was.

He told himself that he didn’t care as he left, tridenting across the bay towards the community portal so he could finally go home and rest. It didn’t matter; hardly anyone had bothered visiting the man when he was alive. What would change with him dead?

Distantly, thunder rumbled.

---

It was strange, to have nowhere to go, reminded him of the early days when it was just him and Fran exploring and hollowing out the mountain for his base one block of stone at a time. He figured that it was about time that he and Fran went on a proper walk, anyway, and so after a light breakfast they were off - Fran running in front in leaps and bounds, tail a blur as she greeted every tree and rock by the house with the eager overfamiliarity that only a dog could have, Sam staying back and whistling whenever she came a little too close to harassing a fox or chicken or whatever mobs were out in the early morning. Every once in a while, she would run back, shoving her face into his hands as if to check in and say hello, and he would give her a couple assuring pats before she rocketed away again.

He definitely should’ve been doing this more often; a small rock of guilt settled in his gut at the sight of Fran’s clear exhilaration at being outside of the same four walls. Her room was as nice as he could make it - food and water kept in abundance, an assortment of toys scattered all over the floor, her bed covered in a collection of blankets she had claimed for her own - but with everything going on, he really hadn’t had the time to bring her on long walks and play with her as he should have. She looked happier than she’d been in months.

He looked up; Fran was in the process of running back towards him, again, and he opened his arms in anticipation of a flying ball of fur smacking him in the chest once more, when she froze. Paws digging into the grass, her head cocked to the side as her ears swiveled, pointed up and alert at some sound that Sam couldn’t hear. Her muscles tensed, and he stepped closer, hand reaching forward-

“Fran, don’t-”

Fran darted off into the forest, a white streak disappearing in the underbrush, and Sam muffled a yell as he moved to chase her. Her sprint sent fallen leaves flying up into the air, a trail of dust and destruction following her as she dashed deeper into the trees.

“Fran, get back here, what are you doing, stop running!”

Completely ignoring him, Fran continued to run ahead, turning suddenly to the right and sending Sam scrambling in an attempt to follow. Ducking out of sight past a collection of thickets into what appears to be a sunlit grove in the middle of the forest, she gave a sudden, triumphant-sounding bark.

“Fran, you really can’t be running off like this, girl, I don’t even know where we are-”

He froze.

Fran, bright white in the sunlight, was wagging her tail as she panted, tongue lolling out of her mouth, muzzle seemingly split in a wide grin. Her dark eyes looked up at Sam, bright and intelligent, and she barked again when he looked at her as if to ask him if he was proud of her discovery.

Just behind Fran, translucent in the light, stood a figure. They were short - only coming up to Sam’s waist, if that, and wore an oversized light-green hoodie that reached halfway down their hands and khaki shorts. Their hair seemed windswept, blown around by some nonexistent breeze, defying gravity as it floated in a messy halo around their head; they turned towards him, freckled cheeks immediately breaking out in a blinding smile.

“Sam!”

He watched, numbly, as the kid stumbled forward, tripping on nothing as they crashed into him, arms immediately going to wrap around his legs tightly. They looked up, shoulders shaking with small giggles, mouth open to show a gap-toothed grin - one that was far, far too familiar.

“Dream?”

“Hiya Sam! Didja miss me?” Dream giggled again, still looking up at Sam, and he felt something dark and cold, almost like guilt, rising in his throat as he met his gaze.

Dream’s eyes were pitch black.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝑩𝒆𝒈 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝑰𝒕 (𝑺𝒍𝒂𝒗𝒆! 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝑾𝒐𝒐𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒈) 𝑹𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝑆𝑙𝑎𝑣𝑒! 𝐽𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝑊𝑜𝑜𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔 (𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧)× 𝑂𝑤𝑛𝑒𝑟! 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 (𝐹𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒)

𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝑆𝑚𝑢𝑡, 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡, 𝐵𝐷𝑆𝑀 𝐴𝑈

𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝐶𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 4.5K

𝑆𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠: 𝐴𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑊𝑜𝑜𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑎 𝑟𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑢𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑏𝑒ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑟 𝑡𝑜𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑠, ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑤𝑛𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑝𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑎𝑚𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑚.

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝐹𝑒𝑚𝑑𝑜𝑚! 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟, 𝐵𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑣𝑒! 𝑊𝑜𝑜𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔, 𝑏𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑔𝑒 (𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠), 𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑙 𝑠𝑒𝑥 (𝑓𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔), 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑎𝑠𝑚 𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑎𝑙, ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑗𝑜𝑏, 𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝐵𝐷𝑆𝑀 𝑡𝑜𝑦𝑠 𝑠𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑎𝑠 𝑏𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑔𝑎𝑔/𝑐𝑜𝑐𝑘 𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔/𝑏𝑢𝑡𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑢𝑔/𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑝, 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑑𝑒𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑢𝑛𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑒𝑥 (𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛).

𝑇𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡: @rvse-miingi @little-precious-baby @multidreams-and-desires @yunhofingers @yunhoiseyecandy @galaxteez

࿇ ══━━━━✥◈✥━━━━══ ࿇

The bleach blonde male sat quietly in the dimly lit room, nothing to keep him company save for the metal chains attached to his wrists that would occasionally rattle when he would shift around, not that there was anywhere he could go to. His face was glued to the floor, his nose letting out a sigh every now and then as he waited for something, anything to happen. He had been stripped of his clothes, leaving him completely bare and occasionally shivering from the cold air that sometimes hit him. He had been locked up for approximately an hour or more since his little.....episode upstairs in the mansion.

Nothing that he regretted though.

Hearing the large door open, his heart nearly leaped out of his chest. The corner of his lip curled upwards in a smirk as he heard the familiar clanking of heels sounding throughout the basement. They stopped right in front of him, one of them impatiently tapping against the floor. He didn't need to look up to know the owner more than likely had her arms crossed and a scowl was visible on her face.

Good. At least he had finally gotten her attention.

"Well? What do you have to say for yourself?"

Still not looking up, he opted for pursing his lips out, looking over at the side as if he saw something that amused him. His demeanor only served to fuel the already burning anger inside the female. Squatting down, she harshly gripped his face and made him turn to look at her.

"Hey! Look at me when I'm talking to you and fucking answer me when I'm asking you a question Wooyoung."

He only let out an unsatisfied huff, finally opening his mouth.

"Little bitch had it coming."

Digging her nails into his skin, she hardened the grip she held on him.

"Excuse me?"

With a grunt, Wooyoung jerked his face away from her hand, a red line now marked across the side of his chin. He looked up with defiance at the woman standing in front of him, her gorgeous body clad in a black leather bustier corset, paired with extremely short cheek hugging shorts with thigh high fishnet stockings decorating her legs.

"I said little bitch had it coming. He kept bragging on and on about how you've spoiled, pampered and constantly been fucking him like you're all some kind of horny rabbits. Well I got news for you, Madam, he's not the only slave you own, not the only one who can please you well enough yet you let him bask in your undivided attention and that only serves to fuel his ego."

The young woman blinked her eyes slowly, the light bulb turning on in her head as she realized what was happening. She let out an amused scoff as she took in the fire burning in her slave's eyes.

"Jung Wooyoung, you were jealous. Weren't you?"

"So what if I was?" He spat back at her, making her frown again.

"Don't you use that tone with me. Remember I'm still your owner and you're still in trouble for picking a fight with San." She reprimanded him.

"What's the use of him working out those arms of his if little baby can't even defend himself?" He let out a small 'tsk.'

"I'm not done with you. Your little temper tantrum just put you in a lot of trouble you little brat."

Loving the use of his usual nickname, he smiled challenging up at his mistress, a twinkle in his eye.

"And what do you plan on doing then?"

He was truly unbelievable. Smirking down at him, she lightly petted his hair, making sure to be all so gentle with him.

"Well....seeing as you've been feeling neglected and in need of my attention, I'm going to make sure you get it..."

Before he could even get comfortable, she suddenly yanked his hair harshly, a harsh grunt spurting out his mouth as he tried to break free once again.

"Along with a reminder about how I like and expect my submissive little slaves to behave at all times."

Letting go of his hair, she tilted his head up once more and struck him across his pretty face, leaving his cheek a bright pink color.

"That's for the busted lip you gave Sannie."

Throwing his head back, he let out a loud and mocking laugh.

"Is that all you came here for? Slap me once and call it a day?"

Not letting his bratty behavior make her lose her temper, though her hand was twitching to put him in his place, she gave him a sweet smile. Hand reaching out to pet his hair, she began cooing at him.

"Oh my sweet little slave, you know better than anyone I'm not letting you go that easily."

Wooyoung couldn't resist leaning into her touch. It had been so long since she'd caressed him like that and he was already melting for her. He allowed her to press him up against the wall, her hands roaming across his chest, his skin so soft and smooth to the touch it'd be a sin not to leave it full of purple and red blotches. Which was exactly what she was going for. Face hidden on the crook of his neck, mouth closing over his beautifully tanned skin, she began to aggressively suckle on his sensitive points. Being the loud brat he was, Wooyoung immediately began spilling out moaned out hums and harsh sucked in breaths whenever she gave him a particularly long suck or sank her teeth into his flesh. When one of her hands brushed over his hardening member, he pressed his hips into her palm. Getting the hint, Y/N chuckled and gripped his base, starting a rather mellow pace as she began rubbing along his length.

"This what you wanted my little slave? Wanted me to get you off like this?"

Wooyoung couldn't keep himself from bucking his hips up. It had been far too long since he'd been touched like that by anyone else and he having been so sexually frustrated for a while, all he wanted was to cum by the help of someone else who wasn't his hand.

"Y-yes! Please! Keep going Mistress. Feels so g-good."

Taking her hand, he urged her to pump him faster, his breath letting out hisses when she finally began jerking him as he wanted to. Y/N smirked against his neck, she had him exactly where she wanted him: needy, vulnerable, but most of all oblivious to what she was going to do. Her free hand reached deep inside her shorts, taking out a little special surprise she had kept hidden away for a specific reason. Wooyoung was so lost in his urgent need to cum he didn't see anything of what was happening. His eyes only shot wide open when he suddenly felt her other hand wrap something around the base of his cock, her movements halting all together and she stepped away from him. Looking down, Wooyoung was not only pissed at being denied his orgasm, but was also somewhat anxious about having a cock ring placed on him. This meant he was not going to cum for a while, and that thought alone made him uneasy and whiny.

"No! Please! Y/N! You can't do this to-yahh!"

Having gone over to the lever that connected to the chains he was wearing, Y/N made it so that his arms were fully raised above his head, rendering him unable to bring them back down and unable to escape the position he was in, back pressed to the wall and at her complete disposition for her to use him as she pleased. Wooyoung knew it, hence why he gulped when he saw her pick up something from the table that had an assorted of toys for her to choose from. He watched as her hand waved over a flogger, a riding crop, hesitated for a moment when it hovered over a paddle. But ultimately, Y/N's eyes sparkled brightly as she unraveled the single tailed whip and began walking over to Wooyoung with a determined look.

"Remember this Wooyoung? I'm sure you do. It was the very first thing I used on you when you first came to live with me. You were such an unruly and untamed little boy, I had to teach you manners and etiquette........."

Wooyoung grunted when she wrapped the whip around his neck and pulled his face close to hers, a devilish smirk in her eyes.

"Let's relive old times."

With a harsh tug, she pulled the whip off from his neck before forcing him to turn around and face the stone wall behind him. He had no time to mentally nor physically prepare before he felt the first fiery sting of the whip clashing against his skin.

"Ah fuck!"

Gripping harshly at the metallic links above him, Wooyoung tried so hard for keep any noises from spilling it but ultimately couldn't. He was extremely vocal and the seering pain of the whip hitting against his back, ass and thighs had him howling out curses and screams that would be heard by anyone who was passing by the hallway outside. Body flinching, every strike further served to make his already hard member throb more intensely against the constraining device placed on it, aching to be allowed to cum. His precum was already spilling out onto the floor at a dangerous pace. He lost count after the 23rd hit, his mind too hazy and filled with lust as his body ached to be released from his torture yet also begged for more.

Y/N finally pulled back after his back was a bright red color, a few bright marks were definitely going to be left for a couple weeks, maybe a month. Although she felt slightly bad, she knew she had to continue, not only for his sake but for hers. If she was being honest, she had grown much too tired of all the other complacent boys, all perfectly submissive babies who were ready to obey her every command and behaved so perfectly well. She wanted to fill like an actual Dom once more and punish a brat for stepping out of line....

And Wooyoung provided just that.

Her heat pooled out a gush of slick when she saw how his body trembled when she placed a hand on his sensitive back, low panting breaths being exhaled from his chest.

"You look so pretty like this Woo. All naked, back red, sweat already forming around the center of it, your pretty cock with the ring around it..."

Wooyoung threw his head back when she reached over to cup his balls in her palm, squeezing and groping at them so intensely.

"But I know you can look even better."

He stiffened and gasped loudly, the sound getting cut off as he choked on his breath when he felt something being pushed up into his tight asshole. He let out a raspy groan when it was fully inserted in. It didn't take a genius to know that it was without a doubt a butt plug, his Mistress always loved shoving one up his ass every now and then, sometimes even making him go a whole day with one inside him. Hearing her giggle, he held in a whimper when she smacked his ass harshly.

"You always did have the cutest butt." She complimented him.

He let out a dissatisfied scoff.

"Yeah right. I've seen you stare and talk about Hongjoong's voluptuous ass more than once..."

Y/N wrapped her arms around his waist, teeth nibbling at his ear.

"Yeah his ass is definitely the biggest, but what's the point if he's too scared to have something shoved in it?"

Letting out a growl, Wooyoung tilted his head away from her, making her frown.

"Still not over that bratty and selfish attitude of yours? And here I was thinking of being nice and actually let you cum as much as you wanted.....but you seem hell bent on making your punishment worse."

Leaving his side, she went back towards the lever and began to loosen it up.

"On the ground, I want you lying on your back."

Grudgingly and with a hiss, he layed on his back, the cold surface surprisingly soothing the burning sensation he still felt on his skin. Feeling generous, Y/N loosened the chains enough to allow him to move his arms as freely as he wanted, though it'd probably be a while for the numbness to go away after having them held up for such a long time. Strutting over to him, she got on her knees and pried his legs far enough to see the red jeweled plug decorating his ass. Bending over, she placed her head so close to his reddened tip, which immediately excited him.

"What?" She questioned him, pulling her face back when he attempted to shove his length towards her face.

"Please~" He pleaded, hips bucking up in the air in desperation, wanting to feel something, anything to help his problem.

"Please what slave? You're going to have to be more specific with me." She teased him as she leaned back in and swiped her tongue up his cock and almost immediately pulled back.

Wooyoung shivered at the feeling of her wet muscle gliding along his length, wanting to feel more of it.

"Please! Let me cum! I'll be a good boy for you!" He cried out.

Y/N pretended to think about it for a second. Then she proceeded to wrap her lips just around his tip, tongue swirling around his slit.

"Oh my! Yes! Please please please!" He shut his eyes at the overwhelming pleasure from just a small action.

Pulling back to spit on his cock, she pumped at the base as her head bobbed up and down and sucked the top. Wooyoung's mouth was an endless pit of constant moans and hisses as he bucked his hips onto her face, cock twitching when she pushed his length all the way to the back of her throat and held it there before gagging on it and pulling back out, the sides of her mouth spilling out a large trail of saliva as she got back to work on sucking him off.

"Mistress! I'm going to cum! Please don't stop! Yes! I'm gonna-"

Just as he was on the brink of reaching the high he so craved, Y/N immediately pulled back when she felt his cock about to stutter. She witnessed sadistically as he let out a pained cry at his ruined orgasm, his hands going to his face and clutching at his hair, hips sputtering and cock wiggling pathetically as he experienced the most intense discomfort and disappointment in his life. He nearly pulled out his own hair as he dropped his arms to the floor and looked over at his Mistress, eyes glassy and red.

"Wh-why would you do that?! I wanted to-"

He quickly shut up when she strangled his neck with one hand, eyes glaring at him.

"I told you I'm not letting you go that easily. If you want your precious orgasm, you gotta beg for it you worthless slave. Show me you deserve it."

Slamming him back down to the floor, she climbed on top of him, dragging her shorts down her legs and tossing them far away somewhere. Wooyoung licked his lips as her wet and succulent pussy came in contact with his face, her thighs placed on each side of his head.

"Now, put that big and loud mouth of yours to work slut. It's not going to eat itself so get to it. If I don't cum, you don't get to cum."

Wooyoung waited for her to lower herself even more before swiping his nose along her slit, shamelessly inhaling her scent. Tongue poking out, he glided it across her folds, paying careful attention to clit. Y/N couldn't resist it and began grinding her hips against his face.

"That's a good little slave, yes. Eat my pussy out like a good little boy."

Running her fingers through his hair, she threw her head back as Wooyoung's tongue skillfully toyed with her clit, lips enveloping her little nub to suck on it. He made sure to hum against it as well, knowing she loved it when he did that. His face was practically making out with her heat, hands gripping her thighs to pull her closer until she was practically smothering his entire face. If there was one thing he had it was eagerness, both to receive but most of all please. Wooyoung's tongue movements were eager and determined, he sloppily licked all over her mound, his teeth sometimes grazing across her folds only adding to her pleasure.

"Ah fuck! Such a good- holy shit! I'm gonna cum Wooyoungie! Gonna cum all over your pretty face and make a mess!"

Tugging his hair harshly, she rode his face in a brazen manner, eyes shut, eyebrows furrowed and teeth clenched as she fucked the poor boy's face. He didn't mind, he just kept his mouth wide open, tongue out to allow her to dig her clit onto it. He was letting out muffled whimpers as her weight practically crushed his jaw, but that didn't stop him from continuing to eat her out like one of the many desserts he loved enjoying. If it hadn't been for the cock ring, he swore he could have cum untouched when her hips stuttered, thighs clenched his head and she grinded herself furiously onto his face as she spilled her juices all over him. He made sure to lap up as much as he could, even after she stilled and sat there to collect her breath. Y/N was a panting mess by the end. Looking down, she smiled at Wooyoung as she got off his face. His hair was poking out in all directions, forehead sweaty, eyes dazed and he had her cum all over his chin, nose and jaw. He looked like such an ethereal mess.

Placing herself back on his hips, she began rubbing herself along his cock, and he immediately responded to her touch.

"Mistress will you let me cum now?" He put on the cutest puppy face he could muster.

"Hmm...i don't know....I want to since you've been good so far...but I don't know."

Feeling her movements slow, Wooyoung bucked his hips up, earning a slap on his thigh from her.

"Don't move."

"I'm sorry! I just really wanna cum! I've been good and I'll be good, I promise! Just please! Keep going, keep doing that. Put my cock inside your hole, even if just the tip but please!"

Y/N loved hearing him beg like he did, knowing she had probably already broken him once more, signaling she won. But she needed to be sure.

"You'll be good? Really? Does that mean you'll behave from now on? Will you even......watch as I fuck Sannie from behind?" She suggested.

At the mention of the other man's name, Wooyoung's attitude changed once again. With the chains rattling, he lifted himself up and began attacking Y/N's neck, sucking and biting down on her skin as his hands began to tear the corset apart.

"Mine! You're mine! I refuse to share with anyone especially that little whore!" He declared fiercely as he managed to tear her corset apart enough to free her glorious breasts, his teeth sinking down on one of them.

Although extremely turned on by his possessive and aggressive behavior, Y/N pushed him away before slapping his face harshly. Wooyoung sat there stunned, eye wide as he stared away in shock. Y/N had never slapped his face before, this just happened on the spur of the moment and she wondered if maybe she went too far.

"Woo-Wooyoung, I'm so sorr-"

"Fuck please do that again." He interrupted her as he grabbed her hand and placed it on his cheek once again.

She was appalled by his request.

"What?! No! Are you crazy?!"

Not accepting her answer and knowing she wouldn't hit him unless she deemed he deserved it, he launched at her once more ripping the rest of her corset off. He scrambled to line himself up to her drenched hole, wanting to pound up into her and fuck her as he wanted. Realizing what he was doing, Y/N pushed him off her once more and this time she landed two slaps across his face. She watched in fascination as Wooyoung's body trembled, his cock releasing tiny spurts of white liquid onto his thighs. She couldn't believe her eyes, he had literally just had a tiny orgasm from being teased for so long and from slapping his face.

It was such a twisted and sickening sight, but it fueled her depraved desires.

"Look at that......who knew you little mutt could cum at the merest of my touches....kinda pathetic don't you think slut?" She shook her head in a mocking way, looking at him with a disdainful gaze.

"Just admit you're enjoying this as well. Your eyes glow with every punishment you throw at me. Can anyone of your other slaves put up with half the torture you throw at me? Hmm? Can they? Admit I'm your favorite toy to play with." He taunted at her.

She calmly got up, ignoring the confused look on his face. He watched her go back to the lever and saw her lift it up. He felt his arms go up once more, just enough so that he wouldn't be able to bring them back down. Then her hand swiftly grabbed something from the table once more. Straddling his chest, he found out what it was she grabbed after she forced it around his mouth, drool coming out as he was unprepared for the ball gag that now adorned his mouth.

"Maybe that will keep your filthy mouth shut for a while as I fuck your cock like I want to."

He groaned in excitement when she pulled the cock ring off him, finally he was going to get what he wanted, a full blown orgasm.

"Oh.....don't get excited and happy just yet slave....I'm not quite done with you."

Having lined herself up on his throbbing dick, she harshly slammed herself down, giving him no time to adjust as she began bouncing on him. Wooyoung didn't care, although he was hypersensitive from being constricted by the cock ring, he felt relieved to have his Mistress' warm and wet walls cover his cock. Although muffled by the gag, he let out joyful mewling sounds as he lost himself in the feeling of her velvety hole. Y/N's eyes stared intensely at him, waiting for him to cum, which would probably come very soon giving how long he had been waiting for it. Just as she predicted, his high came very fast, even he didn't expect it so soon. Through garbled incoherent words, he sputtered underneath her, his hot cum coating up her walls, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he felt the most mind blowing orgasm he's had since the first time he was broken by her.

Giving him no chance no relax, she lifted herself back up and continued to fuck herself on his dick, small mocking laughter coming out her lips when Wooyoung tried to pull his hands around her to halt her movements, only to be painfully reminded that his arms were chained up.

"I'm not done yet you bitch. I still need to cum....let's see how long that takes."

Wooyoung began thrashing his body underneath her, stifled screaming pouring out his throat as he couldn't handle the overstimulation, especially not after so much denial. She could faintly make out the word 'please' come out his lips, but all she did was slap him across the face once again.

"Shut up! Who's the whiny little baby now? Take what I give you. You wanted to cum so badly, now you're going to get it."

Her breasts bounced against her body, her skin glistening from all the sweat it had accumulated, hair sticking to her face as a wicked smile framed her features as she peered down at the poor boy underneath her. Through teary eyes, he let out choked out shrieks as he felt another orgasm being ripped out of his body, legs kicking out in a futile attempt to move her away from him. Y/N only sped up her movements, feeling her 2nd orgasm fast approaching, especially when taking in how much of a blanked out mess Wooyoung was becoming.

"Look at you pretty little slave making such a mess. Your cum is leaking out onto the floor. Such a dirty naughty boy."

Wooyoung had tears streaming down his face, cheeks burning bright red. His mind had completely shut off at this point, nearly blacking out from all the immense pleasure he was being forced to endure. He no longer had control of his body, his body kept writhing and quivering against his will. He was pretty sure even the people on the other side of the mansion could hear his screams, even if they were being slightly muted by the mouth gag he was wearing. In trying to clench to keep from cumming once more, he only groaned as he felt the butt plug that had never been taken off him. He could no longer hold back, cumming for a third time, more violent than the previous ones, body convulsing under the harsh fucking of his owner as her walls also contracted over his spurting cock.

Holding herself up on his thick thighs, her back arched, panting hysterically as she heavily came all over her lover's cock.

"Fuck fuck fuck! Oh my- Wooyoung!"

If he hadn't been so fucked out and dizzy from the overstimulation, Wooyoung would have had a smug grin plastered on his face followed by a teasing comment, but all he could do was just stare up at the ceiling, face blank even after Y/N slowed down her movements until completely stilling on top of him. Knowing he was too worn out to move, she pulled the plug out of his ass before pulling out of his length. She noticed him shiver when the cold air hit his exposed cock, thighs clenching together. She quickly freed his hands from the chains and caught them before they dropped against the hard floor. Finally, she removed the ball gag off his mouth, all covered in his saliva, lips looking sore and somewhat slightly pink. He painfully grumbled when she lifted his torso up and cupped his face.

"You doing ok?" She scanned him all over to make sure no severe damage was done.

Tilting his head slightly up and down, his eyes began to get drowsy as tiredness began to befell him. Y/N carefully helped him to his feet, slinging one of his arms over her shoulder to help him walk him to her room so she could give him proper aftercare.

"Come on my precious baby. Don't worry about anything. I'll run you a bath and then we'll cuddle on my bed. Does that sound good?"

Although he had his head hung low, Y/N knew he was smiling, after all, he was finally getting what he wanted: her undivided attention.

࿇ ══━━━━✥◈✥━━━━══ ࿇

[mmvalentine]

The Pianist pt 10 | Jurdan

Modern AU. I know I've been lax on the smut warnings; I've been reluctant for spoilers but this time you already know where we're going ;) Part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9 The bed frame hit the back of Jude's calves, and then she was going down on her back. It was all happening so fast it made her head spin, and then suddenly Cardan's mouth left hers and she was gasping for air while the ceiling tilted above her. While Cardan's lips made their way down the side of her neck and onto her chest, while his gorgeous fingers fumbled over the buttons at the front of her dress, while a black curl of his hair tickled her between her breasts as his face moved lower, Jude tried to catch her breath, and took stock of Cardan's movements. The frenzy of it all, the shake in his hands and his unfocused eyes might have another time made her think he was drunk again, had he not just delivered a flawless performance. Besides, she could taste his breath and he was just all vanilla and oak, and nothing of the expensive vodka she knew him to be so fond of. So what had gotten into him, then? And why did he look like shit? Cardan had all the buttons down her dress opened now, and he pressed a kiss to her stomach that had his tongue flicking into her navel, and the questions emptied out of her mind.

"You're back," Cardan murmured. "I've missed you."

"You said that," Jude panted, as his hands reached up her body to palm her breasts while his teeth hit her hip bones.

"I meant it," Cardan said, and pressed his lips to her underwear before hooking his thumbs under the waistband and dragging them down. Jude shivered. Cardan dropped down between her knees, at the edge of the bed, and carefully lifted her legs over his shoulders. His hands curled back around to stroke at the tops of her thighs, and when he spoke Jude could feel his breath against her bare pussy. "I fucking missed you," he said, and then, surprisingly slowly, licked his tongue up all the way up the centre of her.

Jude arched up off the bed and bit back the moan that clawed in her throat. Cardan's lips moved unhurriedly, languorously over her clit and inside her and then back again. Her fingers tightened against his scalp, hips moving to seek more friction, but he would not be rushed. Just moved at his own pace until Jude was writing beneath his lips, her body begging him for things she couldn't find the words for. And then, when she thought she might have to actually beg, Cardan moved back up her body and she whimpered at the loss of contact.

"And you, Jude dear?" he asked. His fingers found the spot his tongue had left, and Jude would never admit to him that after weeks and months of hearing him play the piano she had always wondered what his hands might do to her.

"Me what?" Jude gasped as his fingers slid inside her. Cardan watched her face intently as he moved in and out of her. Her head tilted back on the mattress, and he put two fingers of his free hand into her mouth. She sucked against them automatically, and Cardan shuddered. It had not escaped Jude's attention that he had now gone down on her twice and not gotten off himself.

"Did you miss me?" Cardan trailed his fingers from her mouth down to her nipple, the wet trail they left down her chest suddenly cold on her naked skin. He rolled the hardened tip as his other hand moved between her legs, and Jude's answer was a moan. Cardan placed a suckling kiss against her collarbone. "Did you think about this, about the last time I made you come?"

"I..." Jude's mouth moved but the words didn't arrive. Cardan put his chin on the top of her sternum, and the heel of his palm grazed her clit with every stroke of his fingers.

"Did you think about me, when you were gone?"

"Yes," Jude groaned.

"Yes?"

"Yes, oh god, yes..."

Cardan's eyes hardened, and he seized her lips in his.

"Tell me," he said against her teeth.

"I missed you," Jude said, falling apart in his kiss. "I missed you, I missed you, I missed- oh!" Her eyes flew open as Cardan pinched her nipple, and when he sucked it into his mouth straight after to sooth the hurt with his tongue she was coming suddenly on his fingers. Her nails dug into his shoulders, and only half a moan escaped her before she was screaming silently, throat working but no sound coming.

Cardan eased her down, and then rolled them so that he was lying on his back and she was catching her breath against his chest. He pulled her chin up with the crook of his finger, and making eye contact was so intense it ached in her chest. Jude bore it for just a minute before letting him tug her lips back to his.

////

Cardan was dizzy with the taste of Jude. With her straddling him like his, her hair fell over her shoulder and the scent of her surrounded him. His hands traveled down the length of her body and squeezed handfuls of her backside. After weeks of sleep eluding him and food tasting like cardboard, Jude was warm and rich as the sun.

Jude sat up a little and pulled at the buttons of his shirt, but Cardan was in no mood for delicacy. He yanked the fabric open and sent buttons skittering under the bed. Then immediately he was dragging her back down to him, and when her bare chest hit his, soft breasts on his too pale torso, he shuddered hard against her. This much was new territory.

Cardan pulled off the rest of his clothing as Jude kissed him, reaching for more and more skin contact. Their stomachs breathed against each other, their legs tangled, their hips kissed. And then the soaking heat of her pussy slid over his cock and Cardan choked out a groan.

"Cardan?" Jude asked. He could barely answer. He was unraveling and she was asking idle questions.

"Uhh?"

"What did you mean when you said you couldn't sleep without me?"

Jude's hips rolled above him, and it seemed the more Cardan was losing control, the more she was at ease.

"What?" Cardan panted. He couldn't keep more than one word in his head at once, and right now the word was her name.

"I said," Jude's fingernails trailed down his chest. "What did you mean, about not sleeping without me?"

Cardan swallowed, as his cock twitched hard between Jude's legs. He was slick with Jude's wetness and it made her slide smoothly up and down the length of him.

"I... Jude..." His hands fluttered over her thighs and backside, torn between craving more touch and being so over-sensitized he'd snap if she didn't start fucking him right this second.

Jude leaned up and pulled a condom from her bedside drawer, tearing it with her teeth and sliding her hand over him a couple of times before rolling the latex down. Cardan was breathing hard at the feel of her fingers moving over him. And then she was sliding down onto him and Cardan gripped Jude’s knees a little too hard to prevent himself from grabbing her waist and shoving her right down on his cock.

“Fuck you’re tight baby,” Cardan groaned, and indeed Jude was pausing on the way down as she adjusted to him. It was the sweetest torture, and by the time she was sitting all the way down on his lap, he had left purple crescents where his nails had dug in to her thighs.

Cardan looked up at Jude, and found her flushed and lust-glazed as he was. She breathed there for a second, and then started moving on him. Up half way and then back down, and Cardan hissed through his teeth. His hands slipped up to her hips, pulling her back and forth while he lifted his own hips to meet her, and finally Jude moaned for him and the sound was heaven.

“Ride me, Jude,” Cardan panted. “You look so good up there.” Jude’s hands fell against his chest, and her eyes closed as she started to rock on him the way she needed it. Cardan reached up and hooked his thumb on her bottom teeth, and Jude looked at him as she bit down.

“That’s it,” he breathed. His other thumb hovered over her clit, and moaned again as her hips moved faster, trying to rub against the small pressure he put there.

“Cardan,” she groaned, and that was better than even her lullaby. Cardan fucked up into her harder.

“Say it again,” he begged.

”Cardan.”

He sped his thumb on her clit, and when her fingers curled into claws on his chest the pain was delicious. “Keep moving just like that,” he told her. “Say my name and come on my cock.”

Jude pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and her breaths were coming in sobs. Cardan tugged the lip free.

“Come on baby, say it,” he crooned, and then Jude started to shudder and Cardan fucked her faster as her movements lost cohesion.

”Car-dan holy fucking shit Cardan, Cardan, Cardan...”

Cardan didn’t wait for her climax to slow. He surged up and kissed his own name from her lips and then flipped them around so he could pound her until she was screaming and he was coming so hard his head spun.

Cardan slid his tongue against Jude’s while his hips stuttered and she pulled his hair in her fists. When he finally slid out of her and collapsed on the bed, he rolled her into his chest so he wouldn’t have to stop touching her.

Jude pulled the condom off and then nestled into his neck. She sighed contentedly, and Cardan’s heart squeezed painfully in his chest. Things had never been this good before.

"Cardan?" Jude mumbled.

"Yes?" he whispered.

“Why couldn’t you sleep when I was away?”

Cardan glanced down, and Jude had her eyes closed like she was falling asleep.

“Because,” he said very quietly. “I had no one to sing me to sleep.”

“But I never did,” Jude said.

“Every night,” he confessed. "I always heard you."

“Oh,” said Jude. She opened her eyes then, and the melting chocolate of them was to die for.

“Shall I sing you to sleep now?” She asked.

Cardan could have wept. He tightened his arms around her, and managed to nod his head.

And Jude, lovely, sweet and fiery Jude, started to hum his favourite song. Cardan buried his nose in her hair as the words slipped over her skin. He couldn't quite make them out, and then he realised that they might not be in English.

Cardan didn't have many thoughts on the matter beyond this though, because for the first time in weeks, his brain had slowed and quietened to listen to the song, and by the miracle that was Jude, he was falling asleep with her in his arms.

"Jude?" Cardan said, consciousness slipping fast.

"Yes?" she said, pausing the lullaby.

"Can I keep you?"

"Only if I can keep you, too," Jude whispered. And then she started singing again, and the last coherent thought in Cardan's head was how strange it was that Jude didn't know he was already hers.

****

And that's the end x

Yes, yes this was just a chapter of pure smut and after writing Fifty-Six I feel like this blog needs a bath or sth. My deepest thanks to everyone who has stuck with me through this one, I love these two dummys. Also everyone who reblogs is an angel and you make my life.

JURDAN MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @asteria-of-mars @swankii-art-teacher @loosingdreams @feysand-loml @cityofbookish @story-scribbler @thebonecarver @realbookloverproblems

[ficklefics]

Burden To Keep - Zemo x Reader ~ Chapter One: Saviour

Five years ago you were kidnapped by a mysterious group lead by a man only known as Critical. Five years of experiments. Five years of torture. And then in a blink of an eye, you're free. Three men, your saviours, asking you one question: where is the serum? But it could never be that easy. You join them as politics and terrorism throw you across the world, the hunters and the hunted. And through it all, there's him.

(starts towards the end of ep. 3, between Madripoor and Riga. will deviate from canon to an extent, but will likely follow the plot of the show loosely. planning for this to be a short series!)

SERIES MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

The unlikely trio of allies made their way through the compound, dead-set on their purpose. Zemo had informed Bucky and Sam about a supply of super-soldier serum, purchased from the Power Broker six months ago, being kept in this facility. They were on their way to Riga when the information came through, and a quick pit-stop wasn’t an issue if it meant possibly getting evidence that could help them.

For being owned by a client of the Power Broker, the place was poorly defended. Sam came in by the air and drew their fire long enough for Bucky and Zemo to get past the outer wall. Reuniting in the courtyard, they took out the remaining guards and shut down the emergency siren.

Now they followed the path their intel had provided through the strangely unprotected building. They came across a few men with tactical gear and weaponry but dispatched them with ease. Posts seemed abandoned as they got closer to what was marked as a storeroom on their map.

“A lot of security for a storeroom,” Sam had commented when Red Wing brought back the scans. “That’s where it will be,” Zemo assured.

A long corridor marked the final stretch. The security cameras lining it were all thankfully deactivated as Zemo lead the way.

Rounding the final corner there was a lone guard in front of a solid door. Seemingly distracted by his radio, he didn’t notice anything wrong until Bucky’s metal arm was throwing him against the wall, knocking him out cold immediately.

On closer inspection, there was a slat at waist height in the door, and a glass window layered with metal and covered from the inside. With a wrench, Bucky broke the handle, forcing his way into the room.

What they found was not a store. There were no shelves or crates. No serum.

What they did find was a makeshift bedroom. In the corner stood a woman, a bloody shard of glass held in their direction.

*

The tray of food sliding into the delivery box set into the wall woke you from sleep that morning. The breakfast was the same as it had been every day for the past five years: two slices of buttered toast, a glass of orange juice, and a dish of assorted pills. You downed those first, barely feeling them pass through your throat as the orange juice followed. The toast disappeared quickly – they would get pissed if the tray wasn’t back within ten minutes.

“Another day in paradise.” You sighed to yourself, resting back onto the bed.

A few hours later, the sound of movement outside drew your attention. Drawing the window cover up slightly, you peered out at the guards talking in hushed German. Avengers … fucked … serum … Over your time here you had managed to pick up a surprising amount of the language. One guard left, leaving the other to stand guard at the door to your room.

The Avengers. You may not have followed them closely, but it was impossible to live in the West and not know who the superheroes were. But five years after they had failed, five years after half the world turned to dust, you had no idea what to expect. It’s better than this. That much was true. If they really were Avengers, maybe they were here to rescue you.

You paced your room, unable to hear anything else other than the occasional crackle of the guard's radio. Not knowing what was happening was like having a worm under your skin. Periodically you would check the window, hoping to see something, anything other than the guard.

That didn’t take long. You were peering out just as the group rounded the corner. Suddenly, panic filled you. These men weren’t Avengers. At least not the ones you knew. And if they weren’t Avengers…

You hurried back, almost stumbling on your feet, and grabbed the water glass from the desk just to smash it against the wall. The biggest shard sliced into your skin but you barely felt the pain. Backed into a corner, terrified, you listened as they knocked out the guard and broke the handle.

This was it.

The first man into the room was tall, with dark hair. What was most notable about him though, was the arm made of black and gold metal. He stopped at the sight of you, clearly confused. Behind him stood a slightly shorter man wearing goggles and some kind of armour. They both seemed familiar somehow, but you couldn’t put a name to the faces.

“What the hell is this?” The first man muttered as the other lifted his goggles, revealing warm eyes that narrowed at you. A quiet cough sounded behind them and they moved further into the room to let a third man step in behind them. He was shorter again, but only a little. He narrowed his eyes at you.

“Ah.”

“Who are you?” You brandished the makeshift weapon. You didn’t know these men. You didn’t know if you’d be able to take all three of them. But you weren’t going down without a fight. “Why are you here?”

“Sam Wilson.” The second man stretched out a hand, seemingly trying to calm you. “I’m an Avenger.” That’s how you knew him. The Falcon. You vaguely remembered seeing him in the back of photos, never quite taking centre stage. “That answers the first question.” “We’re looking for a serum that’s supposed to be stored here.” You turned towards the man with the metal arm. “The serum…” You’re mind immediately flickered back six months.

There were only six of you left in the dorm. The prison cell you called home. Weak from exhaustion, the countless tests, the years of suffering, it was easy for them to drag you out one by one. To strap you down to a table and inject burning liquid into your veins. You screamed through the gag as your body was set alight.

“Do you know where it is?” “It’s… it’s gone. I…” Could you really tell them where it was? You didn’t know their intentions. They might kill you. It seemed to register that you were afraid, that you weren’t a threat. The men exchanged a look, a silent conversation passing between them.

“Okay. Look, my name’s Bucky. What’s yours?” He took a step forward, not so much to threaten but to test how you would respond. Your shaking hand lowered, but you didn’t drop the glass. “(Y/N). (Y/N) (Y/LN).” “What do you mean gone? Where did they move it?” “Why should I trust you?” “Look, you’re a prisoner here, right?” Sam spoke up. You nodded. “We can help. We’ve got a jet, can take you anywhere you need to go.” “But only if I help you.” “She could be bluffing. We should leave.” The man in the back said this, shifting on his feet and glancing back over his shoulder. “Shut up Zemo.” The other two snapped in unison.

You couldn’t risk being left here. No matter who these men were, they were far better than those who held you prisoner. “I’m not bluffing. The serum is gone. I’ll tell you more, but your friend is right. We need to go.” The man in question, Zemo, was examining you even more closely now. His stare sent chills through your body. It was as if he was inside your mind, pulling it apart, exposing your secrets. “He’s not our friend,” Sam interjected. “Come on.” He stretched his arm out once more, gesturing for you to join them, and you dropped the glass, skirting around the bed. “We’re getting you out of here.”

You followed without question as they lead you through the building. Despite spending so long here, you had never seen more than brief glimpses of the endless corridors. Out through a hangar, the sunlight blinded you. Five years without the sun. No time to take it in. The four of you exited through the main gate – there was no one left to stop you.

A mile or so out a truck sat waiting. It had been hastily covered in branches, which Sam and Bucky pulled away quickly while Zemo stood at your side. You could feel his eyes watching you.

Once it was clear, Sam sat in the driver’s seat and Bucky stepped gracefully into the truck bed which had benches on either side. A hand on your upper back ushered you forward and you obeyed, taking Bucky’s outstretched hand and letting him help you up. You sat beside him as Zemo joined you. He sat opposite, hands on his knees and gazing past you. The engine started with a rumble and Sam took the vehicle back onto the road. You travelled in silence, the only sound the turn of the tires on the gravel and Bucky’s occasional sighs. You kept your eyes fixed on your hands which fidgeted with the hem of your shirt. This didn’t feel real. What if it was all a dream, or, even worse, a trick? A simulation to see what you’d do, and any moment now your rescuers would reveal themselves and send you back to an even worse hell.

Bucky seemed to catch onto your anxiety, resting his warm hand on your shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze. It helped a little.

Soon enough you were arriving at an airport where a plane sat waiting. You followed the men up the stairs, Zemo and Bucky in front and Sam behind you. What you found was nothing like what you were expecting.

You had imagined a military operation, crates and weaponry, nets against the wall, functionality over everything else.

Instead, you had been shown into a luxurious jet. Spacious, with leather seats and dark wooden tables, a plush carpeted floor against your bare feet.

“Wow.” You couldn’t stop yourself from gasping. “Danke,” Zemo smirked at your reaction. “I am rather proud of it.” “This is yours?” He nodded. You chuckled, almost in disbelief. This was it. You were actually free. Once you were in the air they would never be able to touch you again. “Take a seat, (Y/N).” Sam gestured towards the chairs. “It’ll be a few hours before we get to Riga.” You’d never heard of the place, but it didn’t matter. It was far away from here.

Settling into a seat towards the back of the plane, away from the three men who sat together, you closed your eyes and breathed a sigh of relief.

Free.

CHAPTER TWO

[killemwithkawaii]

What do you think yandery sal and Larry would do if there fem S.O tide themselves to the bed and told them to do whatever they wanted.

Double Trouble and their tied up Fem!S/O-

(NS/FW warnings under the cut)

(CW: SalxAFAB readerxLarry, bondage, group sex, slight degradation/teasing, unsanitary, double penetration, oral sex, anal sex...- this thing is long and gets LEWD (but also wholesome) enjoy~ 💕💦)

It took a moment for the whole scene to sink in for Sal and Larry: their girlfriend, [y/n], greeting the pair sheepishly as she laid on her back, already naked and tied to the bedposts. She explained that she was basically serving herself up on a silver platter for the ravenous pair to feast, and the two were quickly in agreement that this was not an opportunity to be wasted. On the contrary, it was one that should certainly be savored...

Safewords had been discussed between all parties much before this. It wasn't at all unusual for their lovemaking to take a kinky turn, and while pain and degradation could come into play, the last thing the boys wanted to do was cause their darling any harm. They knew what she enjoyed, what her weak spots were, her hard limits and how far she liked to be pushed, so there was no need for a lengthy discussion before the two approached.

[Y/n] had expected (or at least hoped for) them to go right into fucking her senseless- she had showered, set out their small toy collection on the nightstand for easy access and tied herself securely to the bed before her partners had gotten home. She had been lying there for a good half an hour since, her anticipation building as her mind wandered, wondering what exactly would be done to her when she was found... She was already plenty wet, and the boys were quick to start making comments about the whole scene.

"Wow [y/n], the sheets already have a spot- how long have you been waiting for us to come home," Sal wondered aloud.

"And what have you been thinking about us doing, exactly? You have like, every toy we own out. Well, except for- oh..."

Larry had nudged her thighs open a little to get a better look at how aroused she already was, and found that the plug that was absent from the lineup of toys was already in place- [y/n] had meant it when she had told them she was ready for anything upon her discovery, and her partners exchanged a mischievous glance before they settled in on either side of her.

They began speaking into her ears in low voices, playfully teasing and scolding her for being so unabashedly debaucherous. They ran their hands lightly up her arms, down her neck, over her torso and thighs, making a point to avoid touching her more sensitive areas, despite her quiet whimpers meant to urge them to do otherwise. She had gotten herself so excited before they'd even walked in the door, and she was already getting impatient.

"What's wrong, [y/n]? Are you that desperate for us to take advantage of you already," Larry asked with mock-surprise.

"Heh," Sal chuckled, joining Larry in his taunting, "what if we don't feel like it, though? What if we just wanna watch you lie here and squirm...?"

Her whimpering gave way into quiet begging as they continued their teasing- nibbling and licking her ears and neck and gently pinching her nipples as she began to writhe, leaning into their torturously light touches. It was exactly what they wanted, to see her resolve crumble, hear her breathy voice demand exactly what she had been fantasizing about, her carnal need overshadowing any shame that was holding her back from seeking honest satisfaction. Larry and Sal were happy to oblige her... once the string of thoughts she was moaning became explicit and desperate enough.

"Please! Please, touch me already... fuck me- both of you, please, don't tease me anymore, I need it! Please...!!" She was straining against the ropes she had tied to her own wrists, tempted to undo the knots and take care of business herself, if her partners insisted on torturing her for much longer.

Sal is the first to indulge her, tracing two fingers over her clit and slowly dipping them inside her. She gasped and bucked against his hand, seeking to increase the friction, but he kept his pace even and slow.

"Aw dude, you're fingering her already? She could have handled at least a couple more minutes..."

"I know, but look at her, Larry! And she did say, 'please...'. I think we can at least help take the edge off a little."

"Heh. You're too nice for your own good sometimes, Sally..."

Despite what he said, Larrys hand trailed down to join Sals, also inserting two digits and enjoying the resulting  look on [y/n]s face, her eyes growing wide as she watched the two finger-fuck her.

"Ooohh..."

"How’s that, [y/n]," Her opinion was pretty obvious, but Sal always liked to hear her say it out loud.

"Ugh, it's so good...! But I... I want more. Can you...?"

They both knew that she was about to ask them to fuck her properly, but they didn't see any need to rush into that- they wanted to take their time (and make her see stars) before they started focusing on themselves.

The two started kissing down her body, Larry lingering at her breasts for a moment before joining Sal between her legs. They continued to pump their fingers into her pussy, picking up the pace as the two began making a grand and lewd display of kissing one another, occasionally glancing up at [y/n] to make sure she was still watching them. They spread her lips with their free hands and lowered their heads, sandwiching her clit between their tongues as they firmly slid them against each other. The low moans coming from their throats sent light vibrations across her sensitive nerves, and, having already been whipped into a frenzy from their prolonged foreplay, [y/n] reached her first climax quickly and suddenly. She let out a clipped yelp as her back arched of the mattress, and both men held her in place to keep her from wriggling away from their mouths as she rode out her orgasm.

Her body fell back to the bed, and her lovers observed her for a moment as she tried to regain her senses, licking their lips with hunger before they began shifting positions- They untied her limp wrists from the posts and folded them behind her back before retying the knot, which allowed the pair to maneuver her how they wished. [Y/n] was gingerly laid on top of Sal, her legs splayed and her cheek against his chest. He ran his fingers through her hair and down her back, and it felt so soothing, she felt she could have drifted off to sleep, had the click of a plastic bottle cap and the feeling of the mattress shifting under Larrys weight behind her not alerted her to his intentions.

She whined and jerked reflexively when she felt his fingers graze her ass and trail to the handle of the plug, only for him and Sal to grab her hips and put her back in position.

"Oh, no you don't...," Sal scolded.

"Where do you think you're going, [y/n]? You said we could do anything we wanted, riiight?"

"You're not backing out on us, are you? Such a tease..."

She knew they were only playing, that she could say 'yes, I take it back,' and she would be untied within seconds with no questions asked. She trusted both of them whole-heartedly, enough to leave herself completely at their mercy (if that wasn't evident by the position she had put herself in earlier). She knew they held her comfort above their own pleasure... which helped to calm the butterflies in her stomach and help her to relax once more.

"No, I... I want you to..."

"Hm? I can't quite hear you from back here..."

"I want you to!"

Sal tipped her jaw upward to face him.

"What do you want us to do, [y/n]? We want to hear you say it..."

She swallowed hard and her face flushed, knowing they wouldn't move forward without her asking (or, rather, pleading) for them to do so.

"I want you two... I want you both to fuck me. Right now...." She pouted. "Pleeease~?" She gave an inviting wiggle with her ass to punctuate the 'please,' and that was enough of an invitation for Larry and Sal to stop holding themselves back any longer.

Larry once again gripped the plug handle, ever-so-slowly pulling it from her body and setting it aside to be dealt with later. Sal continued to soothe her as Larry pressed his already-lubed cock against her and gently pushed forward, groaning as the ring of muscle gradually began to give way to him. The intrusion felt odd, but not unwelcomed, and she concentrated on staying relaxed until the shallow friction started to become increasingly pleasant. She began to rock lightly to meet his thrusts, grinding herself against Sal as she did so, but Larry slowed to a stand-still inside of her after a few moments.

"Ahh... why are you stopping?"

"Heh. Why? Are you starting to like it," Larry goaded her on. She could hear the smirk on his face.

She hid against Sals chest and nodded, hoping the silent admission would be enough for him to continue.

"Are you ready for more, then...?"

She knew what Sal was suggesting, and she once again nodded, her ears and cheeks burning with a bitter-sweet mixture of embarrassment and arousal. [Y/n] felt Sal slip his hand between them and position his thick cock between her slickened lips, but he pushed in only enough to ensure it would stay in place. Neither of them moved until she began to whine once more.

"C'mon guys, enough teasing already..!"

"What, you expect us to do all the work," Larry snorted.

"Yeah, you wanted this, right? Then show us just how much..."

She bit her lip and tentatively pushed backward onto both of them, moving as much as she could while still tied. The boys began rocking their hips in tandem with her, getting progressively deeper, until she was taking them both almost completely. Her eyes began rolling back as they all found a rhythm, the sounds of slapping flesh and their collective panting and moaning filling the room. All three quickly lost themselves in the act, in the mounting pleasure, in the intimacy and trust inherent in the moment. Sal had his arms wrapped around [y/n] as he thrusted into her, and Larry gripped her hips as he did the same, the two peppering kisses on whatever parts of her and each other that their mouths could reach. The kink and roleplay and power dynamic had slipped away at some point, [y/n] having worked her wrists free of the purposefully-loose knot so she could clutch her partners as tightly as they held her. The threesome had become just that- three people who cared deeply for one another, making love together in order to achieve their mutual gratification and a collective satisfaction of their desires.

It was unclear who came undone first, as it all seemed to blur together in one ecstatic crescendo, but the three ended up spent and lying in a sweaty pile on the bed. They slowly came down from their high and caught their breath, limbs tangled in a dazed effort to keep each other close. [Y/n] eventually let out a sigh and smiled widely.

"Ugh, that was awesome...~"

"Heh. Agreed," Sal nuzzled his cheek against the top of her head as he nodded.

"...you should tie yourself up more often, [y/n]," Larry suggested as he stared at the ceiling, still pretty spaced out.

"Eh, give me a few minutes... and maybe another shower..."

"Oh, are we going for round two," Larry suddenly perked up at the suggestion.

"I vote we order pizza first," Sal put his hand on his stomach. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving..."

"I could definitely eat."

"What, my pussy wasn't enough of a meal for you two?" [y/n] said with feigned indignation.

"It was tasty, but not very filling..." Sal admitted.

"Pfft ahaha..."

"Ehehe, that's fair... ah, I love you guys. So, so much...~" She squeezed Larry and Sal in a tight hug.

"We love you, too, [y/n]," 💕

"More than anything,"💕

"Mmm~," she gave them each a kiss and let her head fall back onto the pillow. "Ah... Okay, yeah, I'm feeling it. Let's talk toppings, boys...~"

[purplehairedwonder]

Bent But Not Broken

Fandom: One Piece Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Trafalgar Law/Monkey D. Luffy (pre-relationship) Words: 2,127 Characters: Trafalgar Law, Monkey D. Luffy, Basil Hawkins, Bepo Note: This was written for the “I’m Fine” square on my Bad Things Happen Bingo @badthingshappenbingo​ card.

Feel free to send prompts for additional fills!

This could be read as a loose sequel to “A Rope That Wears Thin,” but it stands on its own.

Summary: In the aftermath of his torture at Hawkins's hands, Law prefers to lick his wounds in private. Luffy, newly returned from Udon, has other ideas.

Read also at AO3 / FF.N

Sitting with his back against the wall of the ramshackle shack he’d taken up residence in in Ebisu Town, Law took a heavy breath before turning to the task at hand. With the sounds of his crew puttering about outside his shack grounding him in the moment, Law slowly removed the bandages Bepo had carefully wrapped around his wrists upon his return from the prison. He examined the chafed, bruised skin with a grimace, noting the various shades of purple and yellow and green encircling his wrists where the Seastone shackles suspended from the prison ceiling had held him upright while Hawkins and his lackeys whipped and beat and…

Law shook his head, pulling himself from the memory. He’d made his choice to trade places with Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin knowing full well what it meant, and he would do it again in an instant. He’d been Hawkins’s target in the first place, and he’d never let his nakama take blows meant for him—not from Doflamingo and not from another member of the Worst Generation.

That didn’t mean the damage hadn’t lingered, however.

In the days since he’d returned to his crew, he’d let his wounds heal naturally. He knew some of his nakama had looked at him askance for not using his Fruit to accelerate the healing process, but the more he let his body recover naturally, the less energy he’d need to expend to deal with the wounds later—and he knew he’d need his stamina for the upcoming raid. He’d heal whatever was left just before they took on Kaido.

After disinfecting the broken skin, he pulled a salve from his medical kit and spread it over his mottled skin, sighing at the cool relief it provided, before wrapping clean bandages around his wrists once more. He then shrugged out of the sleeves of his yukata to examine the wounds on his chest and arms.

Law coughed, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, then tensed as he felt Hawkins’ fingers tracing over his right bicep. They’d pulled his yukata down to bare his skin, giving them a good look at all the fresh marks Doflamingo had left on his skin just weeks earlier.

“What happened here, Trafalgar?” Hawkins murmured, fingers moving around the scar with an eerily light touch.

Law shut his eyes, his skin crawling at the touch. His arm no longer hurt constantly, but his full strength still hadn’t returned, despite the rehab he’d done in the preceding weeks. There were, however, times he woke up grasping at his arm after dreaming of Doflamingo tearing it off then choking Law with his own hand as he demanded Law make him immortal.

“It almost looks like…” Hawkins trailed off.

Law jerked suddenly, eyes opening, as a hand slapped his face. Hawkins stood in front of him, an amused look on his face. “Did you lose your arm?” He tilted his head, considering. “That Fruit of yours could certainly put it back together.”

When Law remained silent, Hawkins apparently took it as confirmation. “Did Doflamingo take it?”

“Fuck off,” Law growled, fingers twitching in the shackles above his head.

Hawkins hummed in response, returning his attention to the scar. “Doflamingo took his time with you, didn’t he, Trafalgar? But why?”

Law hissed, body tensing again, as yet another whiplash stung his bare back.

“You’d have to ask him,” Law gritted out through his teeth. Still, he couldn’t help his lips twitching upward in a pained smirk. “A little hard now that he’s in Impel Down, though.”

Hawkins’ touch paused, and a moment later, he stood in front of Law again with a thoughtful expression. “It was personal, wasn’t it? Was that why you became a Warlord? To get at Doflamingo?”

“I fail to see why it matters.”

“Lord Kaido wants to know who he’s dealing with,” Hawkins replied, nodding at the lackey standing behind Law. “And how he can make best use of you.”

Law grunted as his back erupted in pain once more, tears stinging the corners of his eyes, and he slumped further in his shackles, the Seastone biting into his wrists and draining his strength. Still, his expression sharpened.

“Kaido can fuck right off. No one controls me.” Not ever again.

“We’ll see about that, Trafalgar,” Hawkins replied, grip tightening around Law’s arm once more. “Everyone has their breaking point. We just need to find yours.”

As he looked down, Law noted that a few of the whip marks had rounded his side to his chest, though he’d have to grab Bepo to help put more salve on the remaining marks on his back. But first, he could deal with the cuts and bruises on his chest and stomach himself. Disinfecting and redressing injuries were tasks he’d done more times than he could count, so the automatic motions—the knowledge that his hands could still heal despite the blood they had spilled—had become comforting, and he allowed his thoughts to drift as he worked.

He was so focused on the task at hand that he didn’t hear the chaos outside approaching his shack until it was too late.

“Torao!”

Law’s eyes snapped up from the wound he was tending as the door to his shack slammed open and rattled on its weakened hinges, and he cursed to himself as Luffy stood in the doorway. Law hadn’t seen the other captain in weeks while he’d been in Udon, though he’d heard the reports from Raizo about how he was doing. His first reaction at seeing Luffy—a swooping of his stomach that he’d been steadily ignoring since they’d left Dressrosa—was quickly drowned out by rising irritation. Couldn’t Law lick his wounds in peace? Yet another inconvenience caused by Straw Hat Luffy.

“Straw Hat, wait!” someone—Penguin?—yelled from outside.

“Torao,” Luffy repeated cheerfully, “there you are! I just got back, but you weren’t there, and no one had seen you in a whi—” He cut himself off as he caught sight of Law’s very obvious injuries.

“Straw Hat, you can’t just…” Bepo called as he followed Luffy into the hut, trailing off as he realized he was too late. He ducked his head in silent apology.

Law shook his head minutely at Bepo. It wasn’t his fault he couldn’t stop Luffy; Luffy was a force of nature once he got an idea—and apparently he’d gotten it into his head that he needed to see Law. For whatever reason. The mink glanced between the two captains then backed out of the shack with hunched shoulders.

“Straw Hat-ya. So, you finally got out of Udon?” Law drawled, ignoring Luffy’s expression. He pushed himself slowly to his feet, using the wall to help with his balance.

“What happened?”

“I’m fine,” Law said, making to pull his sleeves back on. He was stopped though when Luffy’s hand suddenly shot out and grabbed his wrist. Law hissed as the rubbery grip tamped down on his bandaged wounds. Luffy let go like he’d been burned, his hand snapping back in an instant.

“That’s not what I asked, Torao,” Luffy said, looking Law up and down as though cataloging every bruise and scratch he could see. Law wasn’t quite sure how to read his tone. For all that Luffy seemed superficial, carrying his heart on his sleeve with no ulterior motives, Law had learned that the other captain had surprising depths that left him off-balance at the most unexpected times.  

“It doesn’t matter,” Law replied coolly. “It’s been taken care of.”

Luffy closed the distance between them and reached up hesitantly, fingers grazing over a yellowed bruise on Law’s cheek, and Law couldn’t help but flinch back. He lightly slapped Luffy’s hand down, and hurt crossed the younger man’s face.

“No one told me,” Luffy said quietly.

“Your nakama didn’t know,” Law replied, pulling his sleeves up and adjusting his sash. He’d have to finish treating his wounds later, it seemed. “Don’t be angry with them.”

Luffy frowned. “You’re nakama too, Torao.”

“It was Heart business.” It was Law’s crew that had been captured, and it had been Law’s responsibility to get them back. It didn’t help that the Straw Hats were staying with Shinobu, who had the gall to not only accuse Law’s nakama of being traitors, but also suggest killing them. He’d never forgive her for that, and he couldn’t be around her right now.

“But we’re allies.”

“And it was an ally who suggested—” Law started angrily before cutting himself off. Shit.

Luffy’s eyes widened. “Suggested what? What happened?”

“It’s nothing,” Law growled. “I’m fine. Leave it alone, Straw Hat-ya.” Law made to move past Luffy and leave the shack, but Luffy grabbed his arm; his grip wasn’t tight, as if he was worried about other injuries, but it was enough to pull Law up short.

“You’re not fine, Torao. I don’t know what happened—”

Law whirled on Luffy, his simmering irritation boiling over. “That’s right! You don’t know what happened because you weren’t here! The moment you got to Wano, you started stomping on Kin’emon’s plans then got yourself locked up in Kaido’s prison because you were reckless,” he snarled. “You were selfish, and the rest of us had to deal with the fallout.”

Luffy recoiled, dropping his hand from his Law’s arm. “Torao, I—”

“Never mind. Don’t worry about it, Straw Hat-ya.” Law pushed past Luffy and outside into the square.

The Hearts in the area took one look at Law’s expression and beat a hasty retreat. Luffy, moments later, followed Law outside.

“You’re limping,” Luffy said simply.

“I am,” Law agreed, not turning to look at his allied captain. “I’ll be fine for the raid, don’t worry.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.”

Law blinked at that and then did turn to look at Luffy. The other man was wringing his hands in front of him, and something about that sight caused the anger to leech out of Law completely. He sagged at the whiplash in his emotions, and Luffy jumped forward to put a steadying hand under Law’s elbow.

Fuck. What was it about this boy that made Law like this?

“I’m worried about you, Torao,” Luffy said gently, guiding him back to a bench alongside the shack’s wall. The two sat, but Luffy didn’t let Law’s arm go. Law thought about saying something but then… didn’t.

Law sighed. “Hawkins-ya.”

Luffy cocked his head curiously. “Huh?”

“Hawkins-ya took Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin captive,” Law said. “They were bait for me.”

“You gave yourself up for your nakama,” Luffy said in understanding.

“Yes.”

“But you got out.”

“Eventually, yes.”

They fell into silence, and Luffy’s hand slid from Law’s elbow to his hand. He entwined their fingers and Law… Law let him. Gods, why did he let Luffy stomp all over his boundaries like they didn’t even exist?

“I’m sorry,” Luffy said after a moment.

Law looked up from their hands in surprise. The other captain was staring at the ground in front of him, legs kicking underneath the bench.

“Straw Hat-ya?”

“I’m sorry,” Luffy repeated. “I know I don’t always listen when Torao makes plans.”

“Ever,” Law muttered. “You don’t ever listen when I make plans,” he clarified at Luffy���s confused expression.

Luffy grinned sheepishly and scratched the back of his head. “Shishishi,” he laughed. “Torao is one of the smartest people I know,” he added. “We wouldn’t be here to help Kin’emon and the samurai without you.” He shrugged, sobering. “I just… I thought our nakama were dead. And I lost it.”

Law sighed and leaned against the shack, careful of the whip marks on his back, and looked over the square his crew had emptied. He had thought much the same as Luffy in the moment Kaido had destroyed the mountain; he’d felt his world crumble beneath him at the prospect of losing his three oldest friends. For an instant, he’d been thirteen and hidden in a treasure chest as Doflamingo shot Cora-san, taking everything from him, all over again.

“I know,” Law replied quietly. He could feel Luffy’s eyes on him, though he kept his gaze forward. “And you’re right,” he added after a moment, feeling more than seeing Luffy’s comically surprised expression. “I’m not okay.” He still had a ways to go physically to fully recover from his injuries. Emotionally… between Doflamingo’s fall, reuniting with his nakama, his capture, and the impending raid, well, Law didn’t want to touch his emotional state with a ten-foot pole, but somehow, sitting here with his allied captain, it felt like he might be okay eventually.

The realization startled something in his chest.

“But you will be,” Luffy said, unknowingly echoing Law’s own thoughts.

Law squeezed Luffy’s fingers in his own. “I will be,” he agreed.

[wdwmarveldisney]

Shoot her

Peter Parker x fem!reader

Summary: Y/N is trapped in her mind and Peter is the one to pull her out.

Masterlist

A/N: So this is loosely based on the song Panic Room. It was supposed to be a lot more like the song but then this happened and I like it too much to change it. Not proofread.

Tw: Lots of violence, guns mentioned, killing. Literally the whole thing is very dark so.

(Gif isn’t mine)

It was dark, so very dark and cold. It was so cold. Rocking back and forth was no help to fight off the frost that bit your skin, everything about this place smothering any hope you had left. Sobs left your lips as you sat there curled up into a ball. The need to scream was so strong that when the sound tore through your lips, it wasn't a shock. Goosebumps were so prominent on your skin and your heart was racing so fast and your breaths were so uneven and maybe you were dying. You were ready for anything though how you sat would probably indicate just how terrified you were. But being terrified didn't mean you weren't ready.

If anything, it meant you were as prepared the most you could be. It wasn’t the first time being here, you knew what happened. It was almost impossible to escape the monsters that lurked in the shadows here and you tried your hardest to think back to them. The pain and suffering and ache for someone, literally anyone, to save you. But no one ever came and you had to be your own hero. This time, you didn’t think you were strong enough.

Looking up and around the room you were trapped in, your face was so pale and your eyes so wild. You looked dead, dark bags under your eyes only adding to the effect. Everything looked fuzzy except the screen. Gaze locked on the video, you heart broke again and again and again, shattering beyond repair. Not only were trapped here, suffocating in the darkness, but you had to relive that. The same monster that haunted your dreams for most of your life and now you were trapped within memory once more.

Screaming once more, you wanted someone to hear. Your echoing screams were driving you crazy. The hold on your knees became tighter, nails digging into the skin as you shook and sobbed. Silence was deafening, you had spent your life drowning it out and yet here you were, trapped in this dark, damp room with it. You could feel your skin crawl as you caved in yourself further.

You couldn’t speak, not that anyone would hear you anyway. No one could reach you in these dark depths, you knew that. So why did you expect someone to run through that door any moment now? Where you were was inaccessible, a place that didn’t even exist and you were the only one who could reach it. So being trapped there really sucked.

Lights flickered on and off, sparking from being overpowered and shutting down all together. Small whimpers left your chapped lips as you finally leaned your head back against the wall behind you. Monsters surrounded you, pain, grief, anger, guilt. What you would give to just be out of here. You had always tried your best to stay out of these situations after they had saved you, after everything you had done, but life had other plans. And right here, in this room, every emotion was so overpowering, so smothering and you couldn’t repress them anymore. You’d lost control. Your facade had finally crumbled and you were locked away once again with your troubles. If only you were strong enough to control your powers, you wouldn’t have returned. You just weren’t strong enough.

You watched as more screens turned on, one by one. They showed your worst memories, all the pain and horrors of your life. It was too much, your hands moving to your hair, pulling at the roots. Any pain was better than watching those. Voice hoarse and scratchy, you scream once more, just desperate to be heard. Tears were streaming down your cheeks as you felt silenced, the screams no longer echoing. Something else did, footsteps. But you were so deep in the pain and suffering you didn’t pick up on them, tearful eyes reflecting the horrors that were your memories. They were a tornado of fear and torture and terror and you were sucked into it. They had reached out and dragged you down with them, blocking out all the light, all the hope, that you had been blessed with.

“Y/N?” A small gasp left your lips as your dazed eyes look to the brunet at the door. You shook your head, this was a step too far. The small smile of relief on his face, the tears eyes, the slight shake in his hands. “No, you’re not real. You can’t be real. Stop, stop it,” you mumbled to yourself, watching his face fall as he took a hesitant step forward. Your hands slid into your hair once more as your head moved down to rest on your knees, “Stop it, he’s not real, he’s not,” you could hear the small sniffle that came from him, the light footsteps he took, “Stop!” You screeched into your jean clad legs, heart beating fast. You glanced to where he was, expecting him to be gone but he still stood, hands out as he took slow careful steps forward. “I’m here, I’ve got you. It’s Peter, just come here,” he stood a small way away from you, panicked that you didn’t want him there. Your eyes fluttered between screens and he followed, gaze taking in it all.

He watched all the killing you had done, all the pain you caused before he looked back at you. You’d told him, once or twice, that your backstory wasn’t exactly rainbows and sunshine. He knew how you were raised, what you had been forced to be. He knew how you hated yourself for it, how you were trying to make up for it all but seeing it, it was very different from hearing about it. Glancing back to you, he found you had fixated on one screen. All sound from anything faded out as you stood and approached it. You looked to Peter over your shoulder to see his confusion, “What are doing?” Ignoring his question, your hand reaches out to touch the screen and suddenly you were there, both of you.

The courtyard had this calm silence to it, empty apart from the four people in the centre of it all. Two men and two young girls. The older had to be at least sixteen, tied up and gagged in front of the younger, no more eleven. That little girl was staring at the other emotionless while the other looked so broken and hurt. “Y/N, what’s happening?” Not even bothering to respond to Peter, you walked over to the younger girl and scary man with a truly broken expression. Peter followed right after, stopping right behind you and realised that one of the guys was talking. “Shoot her,” he was talking to the youngest, gun placed in her hand, and Peter immediately looked to you with fear swirling in his eyes. When he looked back at the scene, the girl had raised the gun, hands trembling, an the other had managed I lower the gag that now hung around her neck. “Y/N, you don’t have to do this. Put it down, just put it down and we can go home, yeah? We can go see mum and dad, have that picnic you wanted for your birthday? Come on, you didn’t have to shoot me. Please don’t shoot me, I love you bubs. Please don’t,” Peter’s heart broke as you stared at the girl, who’s voice was shaking uncontrollably. Your hand had raised to smother your sobs, your voice breaking as you spoke, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,”

“Y/N, please just put it down,” the young you held the gun in place, now crying, and as you went to lower it, a hand held yours in place. The man had lent down to your height and stared at your sister as he spoke, “Shoot her or he shoots you,” the guy nodded to the one behind your sister and he raised a gun, aimed at your head. Eleven year old you shook your head, mumbling “No,” on repeat (just like older you) as your sister assessed the situation. With tears still in her eyes, she looked to the gun aimed at her and whispered, “You have to shoot me. I’m so sorry but you have to shoot me,” she ignored it when you shook your head and simply nodded in encouragement, “I’m not letting you die, shoot me,”

“No,” both versions of you cried and Peter wiped at the tears at his cheeks, wanting to hold you tightly in some form of comfort. Your sister had nodded with a sad smile sent your way and your shaking hands had pulled the trigger. A loud bang echoed throughout the courtyard, both versions of you and Peter all flinching. A small thud was heard as your sister’s body fell lump on the ground, blood falling from the bullet hole in her head. Instinctively, Peter reached over and gripped your hand, pulling you into him and as you held onto him, he pressed the button the bracelet that Mr Stark had told him to. And you were no longer there.

Sitting up with a gasp, eyes full to the brim with unshed tears as you took in all the superheroes that surrounded you. Curling into yourself again at their worried stares, you flinched at the arms that wrapped around you. You looked to Peter and attempted to push him back, you couldn’t believe you had just let him see that. The boy didn’t let you, grabbing your wrists as gently as he could and meeting your eyes, “You’re okay, it’s okay,” you began to sob again, falling into his body and crying into his chest as he held you. Peter wasn’t looking forward to explaining what he had seen in the deep depths of your mind that he had just pulled you out of. This whole situation was crazy, you losing control of your emotion based powers and being trapped in your mind. Him volunteering to go after you when Tony had found a way and him trying to navigate his way to you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to, I’m sorry,” you mumbled into his chest and Peter shook his head, not wanting to let you go anytime soon.

[svtkillua]

little lion man > 3

rating: [pg-13 / angst] pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader x todoroki shouto warnings: cursing, lots of yummy angst >:)) word count: 8.7k listen while you read here!

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ch.1 + ch.2 + ch.3 + ch.4 (final) + alt. ending

Having a secret for so long that suddenly becomes public was uncomfortable and dread inducing. A part of you you’d kept locked away from prying eyes for years had not only been thrown into the spotlight, but shown to the one person you hadn’t wanted to see it. You felt naked, you hadn’t been ready to let the world know you were completely in love with Bakugou Katsuki, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but feel a little relieved. The weight of keeping it hidden was gone off your shoulders but they still remained sagged from the pain in your chest.

He knew you loved him even if you hadn’t said the words, he had to know. Why else would you have had that reaction to him proposing to another girl? You could still see the pained look on his face when he’d seen you crying, a wave of guilt washing over you.

It wasn’t Bakugou’s fault he had hurt you, it was yours. You had never told him you loved him. You had never made a move to let him know that you wanted to be more than friends. Just because in your head it’d seemed obvious, didn’t mean it was to him. You had been scared, scared of the rejection and the pain you would feel if your friendship was ruined. You never let yourself risk anything more because what you had was important to begin with.

He hadn’t known he was tearing you apart by giving you every detail of his relationship. He hadn’t known that all the touches he gave you meant so much, nor did he know that every second you saw them together was like torture. You were so in pain just knowing they were dating, let alone now that they were engaged, but in the aftermath you’d been realizing that the blame wasn’t on him. It was on you.

You did this to yourself, and you were now dragging everyone else down with you.

Your body curled deeper into the blankets around you, bloodshot eyes half closed as your focus remained out the window. The curtains were drawn back so the sun could shine through, it warming the skin of your bare thigh the blanket had fallen off of. The bathroom door opening quietly behind you didn’t make you stir, figure un-moving as your cheek squished against the pillow.

His feet were quiet behind you as he moved towards his dresser, your fingers picking at the soft blanket surrounding your stomach and chest. The silence felt comfortable, your eyes sore from the consistent crying the past few nights. The bed dipped beside your head, your body lulling onto its back and your vision focusing up on Todoroki.

He was staring at you with a blank expression, his hand resting on your shoulder. His thumb moved in soft back and forth motions over the tense muscles and you felt yourself relaxing enough to close your eyes when he spoke.

“Are you alright?” His voice sounded gentle, calming even, as his bare torso shifted, his back resting against the headboard. His light grey joggers felt soft when his knee brushed against your forearm from how he had them folded.

“No.” You laughed quietly, opening your eyes back up to look at him, a small smile on his own face, though his eyes showed worry. You were thankful he didn’t stare at you like you were pitiful, despite that being exactly how you felt. You felt pitiful and sad and broken, like all you wanted to do was sleep but your nerves were too strung out to relax.

“You know you can’t just hide out in my apartment forever.” He spoke quietly, hand moving from your shoulder and instead shifting up to your hair, brushing it off your forehead. “I like having you here, but eventually you’re going to have to do something. You can’t avoid him forever.”

You nodded, turning your head to the side to look out the window again, his fingers still lightly combing through your hair. You knew he was right, you’d been holed up in his apartment for days and doing little more besides crying and showering. Five days had passed since Bakugou proposed and you fell apart, and those five days were spent self destructing.

You’d been avoiding everyone besides Todoroki, only once responding to Kaminari when he wouldn’t quit asking him if you were okay. You mostly stayed in bed, balled up in the sheets and thinking about all the wrong decisions you’d made to get yourself to this point.

Bakugou had called you that night, fifty-two times to be exact. Every time the voicemail came up he’d hung up and called again, for hours. You didn’t answer once, nor did you respond to his texts begging you to please come talk to him or to let him know where you were. You couldn’t face him, not now. Not now that there was no way he didn’t know you were completely in love with him.

The thought made you grow anxious, you weren’t even sure what to do. You couldn’t be in your own apartment, there were too many taunting memories. Todoroki had been there beside you helping you through it all but you felt guilty, like you were driving a wedge between himself and Bakugou. It wasn’t hard to see that the pair weren’t happy with each other that night he proposed. Todoroki had looked like he wanted to knock his teeth out then and there in the parking lot.

“Are you trying to kick me out?” You joked quietly, his soft laughter resonating in your ear as you turned your head back up towards him. His large hands came up to cup your cheeks, though they were upside down. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to your forehead, before flicking it right in the middle with his knuckle.

“Of course, not. Don’t be stupid.” He chided. The corners of his lips were turned upwards as his hands slipped off your face and he moved to stand, tugging on his shirt he’d sat on the nightstand previously. “Though you are an awful roommate, haven’t cooked me dinner once.”

His joking tone made it easy to laugh, your eyes rolling as you pushed yourself upright in bed, his eyes wandering over you quickly. You had been stealing his clothes all week, you hadn’t gone back to your place and you definitely couldn’t sleep and wallow in self pity in that horrible dress. You were wearing one of Todoroki’s old t-shirts and a pair of old boxer briefs that served as your shorts.

“You love cooking, I was doing you a favor, really.” You argued, tilting your head to the side, rolling it around on your shoulders to try and stretch out the strained muscles. Here in Todoroki’s bed felt like a safe haven, no one could see you cry here. No one would remind you of the bad decisions you’d made to make you cry, either. Todoroki never pressured you to talk, and when you did start to vent he was a willing ear there to listen and comfort you. You couldn’t help but think he deserved better than this.

“Sure.” Todoroki rolled his eyes as he stretched, sliding a sweatshirt over his chest and tugging it down as he focused on you. “I have to go to train, okay? If you need me call me, I’ll answer.”

You nodded and gave him a small, lackluster smile as he sighed, but left, the sound of the door shutting ringing in your ears a few minutes later. You exhaled loudly, fingers drumming into the mattress below you as you took a glance over at your phone. The temptation to call Bakugou was high, fingers practically itching to dial the numbers. The moment you were alone you wanted nothing more than to hear his playful insults and feel his warmth against your skin.

You missed him, you missed him so damn much even though thinking of him made you want to break down again. You wanted to know how he was and if he was okay and if he hated you now. You wanted to know if he was thinking of you as much as you were thinking of him. You wanted to call him and say you were sorry for making him be in this situation but all you could do was sit and stare at the device beside you. Calling him would do more damage than good and you knew that, but it didn’t make your natural pull towards him just go away.

Your fist rubbed away the stray tear that slid against the side of your nose as you rose to your feet, shuffling over to peek out the window. It was warm inside but outside was frigid, the sun covered by clouds and casting a grey shadow over every surface. Your fingers skimmed along the window pane, puffing out a breathe of air that fogged against the glass.

Todoroki was right, you needed to do something, something that would help you begin moving on and putting the pieces of yourself back together. You couldn’t even think straight anymore, it felt like chunks of the puzzle were missing but you had no idea where to find them. Your heart still felt achy and your muscles were still weak. You felt like a minimized version of yourself that wasn’t working properly.

You noticed Todoroki’s apartment key sitting on dresser by the door when you turned your head, eyes rolling as you slid it onto your palm. You stared at the metal for a moment before, as if on que, hearing a knock on the front door. You laughed softly, a teasing smile on your lips as you walked up to the door, throwing it open.

“See, aren’t you glad I’m here n-”

Your words were cut off when you realized it wasn’t Todoroki in front of you.

It was Camie.

She looked beautiful as ever despite the dark circles under her eyes, a jacket wrapped tightly around her petite form. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise at your lack of long pants and a shirt that very obviously belonged to Todoroki. You self consciously tugged the shirt down more, it covering your shorts as you swallowed the nervous feeling bubbling up in your own stomach.

Why was she here? How had she known where you were? Was she here to tell you to stay away? Maybe she wanted to punch you for ruining her birthday dinner.

“What are you doing here?” Your voice came across meek, your fingers curling into your palms as you tried to appear stronger than you felt, your mind exploding with the possibilities of what she could want. You weren’t sure Camie liked you much to begin with but after ruining her birthday party and causing a huge scene right after she’d gotten engaged, you doubted you were her favorite person. You bit down hard on your bottom lip, crossing one leg over her other as you cleared your throat “How did you know I was here?”

You could feel the resentment in your gut as you looked at her, the girl who’d gotten what you wanted. Your body felt strung out, like she wasn’t really there and you were just hallucinating from your lack of sleep. You’d been picturing her in a wedding dress so much the past few days you really wouldn’t have been surprised if it was just in your head.

“I got Kaminari to tell me.” Her voice was, as usual, soft and polite as she hesitantly took a step forward, your body sluggishly moving aside so she could come in. The door clicked with the force of your palm, her body moving over to the sofa and taking a seat. Your heart was pounding away in your chest as you slowly walked over, but took a seat on the chair furthest from her, when she spoke again. “I needed to talk to you.”

“Talk about what?” You questioned, crossing your legs over each other and folding your hands on your lap in an attempt to stop looking as tense as you felt. You’d never been alone with Camie before, you’d barely even spoken to her really, and yet here she was across from you wanting to talk about something that was making her usual soft exterior look hard and tired despite her even voice. “If this is about your birthday…”

“About you.” She cut you off and you shifted uncomfortably, silently wishing it had been Todoroki at the door, “There’s a lot that’s gone on you don’t know about and I think you need to.”

Something about her matter of fact octave made you narrow your eyes at her. She sounded like she had all the answers and you were confused as to why. Did she know something you didn’t? Did she even know that you had all but told Bakugou you’re in love with him? Why would she want to help you with information when you’d ruined her night just days ago?

“What are you talking about?” Your heart was pounding at an alarming rate as your mind wandered all the possibilities. Her demeanor made the room feel ominous, like a dark cloud was looming over you just waiting for a the right moment to pour out the rain.

“We’d been going out for about a month when Kaminari told me.” Camie said cryptically and looked away from you, instead staring at the dark colored wall, her fingertip dragging back and forth over the faux leather sofa. She came across forced,  like she didn’t want the actual words to come out of her perfectly painted red lips.

“Kaminari told you what?” You questioned, face scrunching up, baffled, your teeth biting down on your bottom lip, the flesh tender from doing it so much lately.

“That Bakugou was using me to make you jealous.” She said it like it didn’t bother her in the slightest but you could see the flash of pain in her eyes. Your lip slipped out from under your teeth’s grip, lungs tightening as the words processed.

“What?”

“That he was using me to make you jealous.” She repeated, turning her gaze to look at you again, her lips parting as she let out a heavy sigh before speaking again, “That Bakugou was in love with you.”

The room felt like it was flipped upside down, your heart slamming against your rib cage as you looked down at your knees, confused and unsure of what to do with this information. Was it even true? Why would Kaminari have told her that if it wasn’t?

“I think he took pity on me, seeing that I was starting to really like Bakugou. He didn’t want me to get hurt because of Bakugou’s irrationality. I think he’d assumed I’d break up with him, but I didn’t. I wanted him.” Camie explained, her hands lifting up to brush her curtained bangs away from her face. She looked wounded, as if this was something she hadn’t ever wanted to say out loud, “I was falling in love with him and I was sure I could make him love me too.”

“In retrospect I knew it was a bad decision. Even when he started to grow deeper feelings for me, I couldn’t trust that you weren’t still in the back of his mind. He was falling in love with me like I’d wanted but I never let him get over you.” She continued, edging forward in her seat so her toes could reach the ground, shoes tapping lightly into the dark wooden floors. “I almost thought I’d won him over, and then we went over to your place for dinner and I just knew.”

The way her voice wavered at the end made a feeling of irrational guilt spread in your stomach. He’d gotten so quickly into Camie that it was baffling he’d even had time to develop feelings for you, but her earnest voice was making it all seem so true. A bitter escaped her as she shook her head lazily.

“I knew as soon as he hugged you, the way he was gripping onto you so desperately. How he practically forgot I was there when he’d tried to get you to sit with him. That whole night he complained about how touchy Todoroki was with you. He’s not the best at hiding his feelings when he’s annoyed.” She mumbled the last bit as she folded her arms across her chest, growing quiet.

The sounds of your quiet breathing was the only audible sound, the air feeling thick around you. Your eyes were on her delicate features as she stared down at her lap, her sunshine yellow coat clashing with her dimly colored surroundings. She looked defeated, like she’d been trying to convince herself she was wrong about everything going on around her.

Maybe you hadn’t been the only one Bakugou was unintentionally hurting.

Your mind was reeling with too much information being pumped into it. You’d barely begun getting back to functioning again and now you were sent right back into the haze that is Bakugou. Your eyes shifted up to Camie’s face, her eyes now on you.

“I hated you, I hated you so much for a long time because I couldn’t get his attention how you did. I was so jealous every time you guys were alone. I would say such shitty things about you and he’d get so mad, it drove me nuts. I did everything I was supposed to do, everything he loved. I finally got his heart, and yet you’re still the one he went running after.”

“Why are you telling me this?’  You mumbled, picking at your thumb nail aimlessly as you stared back at her. You never tried to push a wedge into their relationship, but had you unintentionally? This entire time you’d been envious of her when she was insecure about you, and that was perplexing.

“Because I know you love him, I’ve known since I met you. Best friends don’t look at each other how you look at him. I love Bakugou, but I don’t want to be his second choice. I think he cares about me too, I know he does, he loves me. Just lately he seems confused, like he’s not sure what he’s feeling. I’m not going to pretend that I don’t think he’s still harboring feelings for you, though.”  Camie sighed, pausing as her hands slipped onto the sofa and gripped the edge of it. “The way he looked after you left crying the other night…I’ve never seen him that upset before.”

“Is he okay?” You asked before you could think, the words blurting out like a reflex, your body sorrowful with the thought of being the one making him upset. Part of you felt frustrated with him, if he had loved you why had he never said anything? Then again, neither had you.

“I wouldn’t know, he hasn’t been home in days.”

“What?” You asked, eyes widening and your body straightening up. She looked tired, physically and emotionally, like she’d been struggling to hold herself together and you were sure you looked very similar. The entirety of time you’d known of Camie you’d been envious of everything she had and everything she was. She seemed like she’d had everything all together, but now, alone and in front of you, she looked broken. Broken because she wasn’t sure the man she loved loved her quite as much.

“He won’t answer my calls, he hasn’t been back to his apartment, I can’t find him. I don’t know where he is or what he’s doing.” Camie said simply, body moving upright. Her diamond ring sparkled as she lifted her hands up to tighten her jacket around her slim waist, making your stomach twist uncomfortably. This was all too much to take in. “I should get going, I have class.”

Your body stayed frozen for a moment as she walked herself to the door, her heels clicking against the wood. She paused once she gripped the door handle and turned to look at you, a sad smile on her lips as she spoke.

“None of us can do this forever. I know you care about him, so figure out what you want to do.”

With that, she was gone, the door closing behind her and enveloping you in an uncomfortable, stuffy silence. Your palms pressed together as you bowed your head towards the ground, pulling your legs up and against your chest.

You thought back to all of your memories with Bakugou and swallowed the lump forming in your throat. You had so many questions and basically no answers for them. Had all the guys known he had feelings for you? Did they all know you did for him now? Had he really asked Camie out to try and make you jealous?

Bakugou wasn’t the type to willingly hurt people, so you could imagine even if it started out of a not so good motive, he’d developed feelings for her rather quickly, otherwise he would have broken it off. It was obvious he loved her, as obvious as it seemed to be to Camie that he cared for you. You could see it when they were together that she obviously made him happy, so why was Camie acting like she had lost a fight? Could it be possible he really harbored feelings for you both?

It all felt surreal, like the plot to a movie you’d surely hate, with a love triangle that left everyone upset and broken inside. From Camie’s perspective you’d be the villain, the girl who showed up and threw a wrench in her perfect relationship. Only that perfect relationship had apparently been built on a lie and you were just now finding out about it.

You groaned and flopped back on the sofa, folding your arms across your face and inhaling sharply. You wished you were miles away in a little cottage with no troubles on your mind besides deciding what you’d have for dinner. You willed your feelings to just go away so you’d not have to worry about what to do now. What were you even supposed to do now. You squeezed your eyes closed, chest feeling shallow, like your lungs had caved in. You didn’t know how you ended up here, but you knew you needed answers.

You needed to know if what Camie was saying was true.

Your fist rapped on the door to the training room, hair pulled back into a messy bun and nerves brewing up in your veins. You peeked through the glass, counting seven heads inside and breathing a sigh of relief when none of them looked like Bakugou. Camie hadn’t been lying about him being MIA, evidently.

Midoriya answered the door after the background music cut off, a smile making his cheeks bunch up as he opened the door wider realizing it was you. “Hey, come in.”

The room felt hot, the boys all panting and getting drinks of water during their short break. Tsuyu was curled up in the corner by Tokoyami, watching something on a phone that had them both giggling. Kirishima was stood beside Shindo as they talked about some special offensive move, both of them too in their heads to notice you. Todoroki had however, his hair covered by a ball cap and his sweatshirt from earlier folded neatly by the side of the room as he quickly made his way over to you.

“You okay?” He questioned, eyebrows raised slightly, surprised to see you here considering this morning you didn’t even wanna leave his bed. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his joggers, tilting his head backwards some to see you better under the bill of his cap. 

“I need to talk to you, and Kaminari.” You explained mutely, stepping a bit closer to him as you could feel eyes on the pair of you. It wasn’t silly as to why some of them would be starring, you’d been spending a lot of time with Todoroki lately. Not to mention you were still wearing one of his shirts, just now it was paired with an old pair of basketball shorts. It didn’t exactly send a look of friendship as much as relationship. “It’s important.”

Todoroki bobbed his head in a yes, his hand landing on your elbow as he called Kaminari’s name, the tall boy rushing over and smiling widely at you. His arms looped around your middle, picking you up off the ground til just the tips of your shoes were touching, the hug tight and crushing but incredibly comforting. You found yourself laughing faintly, shaking your head as he placed you back on your heels. It made your anxiety lessen just a bit, Todoroki nodding for the pair of you to move over to the corner of the room with him.

You sat cross legged beside Todoroki on the bench against the wall, Kaminari’s long legs spread out in a v shape on the floor in front of you as you took a shaky breathe, not sure where to start. Your mind was still a jumbled mess, so you blurted out the first thing that popped up in your brain.

“Did Bakugou have feelings for me?”

Both of them remained tight lipped at your question, Todoroki stilling beside you, while Kaminari’s eyes flickered everywhere around the room but to yours. You weren’t sure if it was because he didn’t want to tell you no or if he didn’t want to tell you something you weren’t supposed to know. Todoroki cleared his throat finally and maneuvered his muscular arms across his chest, speaking quietly.

“He did. Before he started dating Camie.”

Kaminari looked up at you finally, his eyes full of guilt as he squeezed his hands together, nodding in agreement. He looked somber, the emotion looking wrong on his usually cheerful exterior.

“When he asked her out he thought it would make you jealous, he was too chicken to just tell you he liked you.” Kaminari sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, “I told him it was a bad idea but he didn’t listen to me. I tried to tell Camie what was going on but she didn’t seem phased. I thought maybe she’d break up with him, but clearly she didn’t.”

You nodded languidly as you leaned back into the arm of the couch, Todoroki’s hand hesitantly resting on your knee and giving it a benevolent squeeze. You looked over to see him nibbling on his bottom lip, before looking back at Kaminari.

“He started to like her after a few months, he fell in love with her and I guess we all thought he’d gotten over you, but then at your house a few weeks ago… When I walked in on you two in the kitchen, seeing him all desperate to get you to talk to him, I figured out he was starting to feel something for you again, or those emotions never completely went away.”

“He’s an idiot.” Todoroki grumbled and brushed his thumb over your knee absent mindedly “He shouldn’t have asked someone else out if he still had feelings for you. He’s not just hurting you, but he’s hurting her as well.”

He had an edge to his voice you hadn’t heard before, your hand landing on his and giving it a light pat. He looked over at you, sighing and using his thumb and index finger from his free hand to rub at his eyes.

“He’s really been confused about what he wants, and it’s not fair to any of you, but I know he cares about you both. He won’t talk to any of us, and I think it’s just because he’s not sure what to do. Him and Todoroki about got in a fist fight yesterday.” Kaminari said, Todoroki narrowing his eyes at him, apparently not wanting him to share that information.

“What?” You questioned, turning your body towards Todoroki, who was now avoiding looking at you. “You got in a fight?”

“He came to practice trying to get someone to tell him where you are. I knew you didn’t want to  see him so I didn’t tell him. You’ll talk to him when you’re ready.” Todoroki explained, shrugging his shoulders “He wouldn’t back off. I’m tired of him making you feel like shit, he’s being selfish. He can’t just drag the both of you along, on purpose or not.”

You rubbed at your eyes with the heels of your palms, Kaminari sighing heavily and reaching forward to pat your leg. You looked at him through your fingers and he frowned, running his free hand through his messy hair, his forehead shiny with sweat.

“I’m sorry, he made me swear I wouldn’t tell you about it when he came up with the plan in the first place.” He was drumming his fingers against the light wood flooring, “I tried to get him to just talk to you about things, but you know how stubborn he can be. He was scared he’d lose you.

You just nodded, staring at your lap and letting your mind wander. You wanted to cry again but for completely different reasons than you had been lately. It was all too much, too much to think about and too much to fuck up your already unstable emotions. Everywhere you looked there was a reminder that your life was falling to pieces and no one could help you fix it.

Everything felt too quiet, most of the boys had stopped their chattering and were now watching the three of you, which made your neck feel hot. You stood, brushing Todoroki’s hand off your knee as you did so, his duo-coloured eyes watching you move.

“I gotta go.” You said quickly, making a move towards the door, Todoroki’s loud sigh audible behind you but you didn’t stop, giving a quick wave to everyone before slipping out, shutting the door behind you.

The air felt cold against your arms as you walked, regretting not taking one of his jackets before you’d left Todoroki’s place. You wanted to scream. You wanted to scream so loud your lungs would give out and you’d be left with no thoughts in your head. You were so lost and conflicted and tired, so so tired that you just wanted to sleep.

You needed to get away, from all of this. You needed a break to sort out all the things clogging up your head. You hated being away from everyone, but you needed to be. You needed to be alone with just yourself and your thoughts and your mind.

The idea of just grabbing your passport and leaving on a whim made your stomach churn with nerves. Could you really do that? Could you really just pack up your things and leave? Could you let go of everything holding you here and have time to figure things out? Maybe that was exactly what you needed; distance from reality.

Your limbs felt heavy, dragging you so your body walked at half speed towards your apartment door. It looked menacing, leering at you and taunting you of what laid behind it. All the pictures and memories you were trying so hard to tuck away and never pull out again, they were waiting just beyond the wooden surface. You inhaled sharply as you paused just outside, before letting your hand land on the brass knob, turning it, and slipping inside.

Everything seemed normal, like your world hadn’t exploded just a few days before. The walls were still covered in the old photos, your piano still sat in the corner by the big windows, everything felt still and silent. Your shoes made a dull thud as you slipped them off by the door, walking further into your apartment, desperate for a long bath to think.

Your bedroom was quiet, the curtains drawn almost shut, light coming from the small lamp on your bedside table. One of the blankets had been tossed on the floor, landing in a heap beside the foot of the bed, your closet doors open and a few boxes knocked over inside. Then, in the middle of the bed with a pillow against his chest and his eyes closed, was Bakugou.

His hair was a complete mess, parts of it sticking up and fanning over the pillow, parts of it sticking down near his eyes. His lips were open, breathing slow and his chest rising and falling in rhythm. His eyes were puffy and red rimmed, his fingers digging into your pillow he had hugged against his middle. He must have used his key to get in, one you gave him for emergencies, which he apparently decided this was.

You gradually moved further into the room, walking silently towards the bed, where he had just mumbled and rolled onto his back, his arms and legs spread out like a starfish. You hated the way it made your lips curl up at the ends, your heart slowing in your chest as you watched him. It was infuriating how he could simultaneously break your heart and make it pound all at the same time.

Part of you wanted to let him sleep forever, just peaceful and in your bed where nothing could make the calm look on his face twist to one of pain or sadness, but a larger part of you needed to talk to him. You’d been avoiding it but you knew that you did, you couldn’t avoid it forever, even if that was tempting. Whatever this was, it couldn’t stay like this, it wasn’t fair to any of you.

Your body lazily shifted to the head of the bed, sitting down beside his shoulder as you watched him hug the pillow tighter. Your fingers reached out, pushing his hair off his face, making him stir and scrunch his face up.

“Katsu.” You whispered, not wanting to startle him, fingertips feeling burned as you skimmed the skin of his arm. You bit down on your bottom lip, giving his shoulder a light shake. “Bakugou, wake up.”

His eyes fluttered open, looking glazed over and dazed as he tried to see in the dimly lit room, his hands coming up and rubbing at them. Once he focused up on you, it was like he registered in his brain who you were, his body springing up right within seconds. His hands came up to wrap around your waist, yanking you into him and burying his head into your hair.

“Thank gosh.” He sounded relieved, like he thought he was never going to see you again. His hands pressed into your spine, pulling you as close as you could get to his chest. He smelled incredible, like crisp, clean sheets mixed with an expensive cologne that drove your senses crazy. “I was beginning to wonder if you were gonna ignore me forever.”

“I thought about it.” You mumbled into his chest, dropping your eyes shut, half joking but half serious. Your fingers brushed down his back as he sighed into your hair, his lips puckering and brushing against your scalp.

“Don’t say that.” His voice came out muffled from your current position, but you could hear the sadness lacing it. He pulled his head away, his arms staying loosely wrapped around your middle as he stared down at you. His ruby eyes were bloodshot, his bottom lip chapped from biting it so often.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re trying to read my mind.” You looked up at him as you spoke, folding your arms over your chest. He reached up and pushed your hair behind your ear like always, grazing your cheek as they moved away. You let out a deep exhale as he brushed his thumb along your hip.  “If you want to know something than ask me.”

He stared at you silently for a moment, his lashes fluttering as he flicked his line of sight all over your face. He swallowed roughly, his eyes finally settling on yours as he spoke.

“When you left Camie’s birthday party, after I proposed, why did you get upset?” His eyes were glued to you, to your every move and reaction, like he was trying to see if what he was thinking was right. You shook your head at him, moving backwards from his grip on the bed and pulling your legs up to your chest, hiding into yourself.

“I think you know why, Katsu.” You said simply, voice quiet and forced as you stared at your feet. You wiggled your toes around, staring at them like they were the most interesting thing in the room. “I know you know why, actually, you’re not stupid.”

He sighed beside you, his hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck as he watched the side of your face. You could feel his gaze burning holes into your skin but didn’t turn your neck to look back, not having the stomach for it.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He whispered and his hand brushed against yours. He easily tugged it towards him, slotting your fingers together and holding on tight.

“Why do you think?” You laughed bitterly, glancing over at him as your eyes stung. “You’re my best friend and you’re in a happy relationship. I wasn’t going to fuck that up just because I had feelings for you.”

“You should have told me.” He huffed, licking his lips and letting your hand go to stand up. He walked over towards your window, running his hands through his hair exasperatedly. “You shouldn’t have just assumed you knew how I felt.”

“You have a girlfriend Katsu, fiancee, now, actually. How exactly do you think I thought you felt about me?” Your stomach knotted at his words, choking down the frustrating emotions filling your esophagus. “She came and talked to me this morning by the way.”

You could see his back muscles tense, his arms folding over his chest and flexing in a manner that looked uncomfortable. He turned towards you, leaning his back into the window sill and staring just past you towards the other side of the room.

“She told me that you used to have feelings for me before you two started dating, that Kaminari told her you were using her to make me jealous.” You added, staring at his face to gauge his reaction. “Is that true?”

“So what if it is?” He sounded nervous as he finally looked at you, his hands dropping to his sides and shoving into his pants. His fingers were drumming against his thighs inside them, the fabric rustling.

“Why wouldn’t you have told me that? Why would you start dating someone if you liked me?” Even saying out loud that he liked you felt funny on your tongue, the idea something you never seemed to think would be true but had so desperately wanted.

“Probably for the same reason you didn’t tell me, I didn’t want to lose you.” He shrugged and gazed at you intensely, “It’s not like I could tell you once I was with her either. I knew it bothered her but I was too selfish to just let you go. You’re my best friend, I thought maybe the feelings would just go away after awhile.”

He paused as he started to pace, his head tilting back towards the ceiling and his eyes falling shut as he exhaled.

“I started to fall for her, I really did. It was so much easier when we were both busy and I couldn’t see you. I fell in love with her and it felt so right that for a while I figured it’d worked out, even if my intentions weren’t that great to begin with. Then when I brought her over to your place and I saw you again, I just…I knew. I knew I still had feelings for you.”

You were silent, taking his words in as they flowed out of his beautiful lips, gripping the comforter under you so tight your knuckles lost all blood flow.  Your heartbeat was thumping in your fingertips and toes, a faint ringing in your ears as his words settled in the air.

Your heart was screaming for someone to say something but neither of you spoke, your body raising and your arms folding across your chest, your stance much like Bakugou’s. Standing here in front of him, hearing him say he had feelings for you felt surreal. You’d always pictured yourself being so happy if he confessed to you. You’d pictured him holding you in his arms and whispering that he loved everything about you.

You never imagined it would be explained in such soft tones along with him detailing how he loved someone else. You never imagined that it would hurt quite this much to love someone. It hurt to love Bakugou, it made your heart sear in your chest and your eyes burn like lit coals. You knew that regardless of your feelings now or his, that he still wasn’t yours. He still loved her, regardless of his feelings for you, and you knew you couldn’t do it anymore.

“I think I’m going to go away for a while, Katsu.” The words left your lips before you could think about them properly, the decision already made in your heart. You had to get away, you had to figure out who you were without him.

“What? No.” He said and immediately whipped his head towards you, shaking it side to side frantically, the panic bubbling up inside him. “You’re not leaving, you can’t leave. I need you here.”

“I have to, besides you have Camie now.”

“I don’t want her! I want you, I need you.” He rushed over, grabbing your elbows and pulling your body towards his chest despite your squirming. His eyes were becoming more reddened by the second, water collecting in the ducts.

“You don’t need me.” You whispered and looked at your feet, “You’re engaged. You’re gonna get married and you’re going to be so happy.”

“Not if you’re not here!” His tone was getting louder, agitation pumping through him as you pulled from his grasp, “I don’t know what to do, I don’t, I’ll admit that. But I know I need you here, I know I have feelings for you that are so strong I can’t ignore them, and I know that you feel it too.”

You felt the tears starting to drip slowly down your cheeks, hands shaking as you gripped your sides, hugging your own stomach as if trying to hold yourself and the pieces of your heart together. You felt the remaining cracks in your heart quaking and getting bigger when you looked up at him again and saw a tear slipping down his cheek, even as he tried to rub it away.

“I’m not going to let you throw away the person who makes you happy because I was too slow to tell you how I felt. You don’t need me, Katsu, you think you do because I make you feel comfortable. I missed my chance to have you, it’s gone.” You explained somberly, teeth clattering together as you tried to keep yourself from sobbing. He was staring at you rigidly, his lips parted as he hung on your every word, no longer trying to hide the few tears leaking from his eyes, “I should have told you such a long time ago, and that’s something I’m going to regret for the rest of my life.”

“I don’t want to lose you.” Bakugou’s cracked voice was barely audible as he stepped closer to you. He looked so beautiful even with his eyes filled with mild panic and his bottom lip trembling. His hands were shaking as he lifted them up and rubbed at his cheeks again, hard enough to turn his skin light pink.

“Please don’t cry.” You whispered, hands reaching up and cupping his cheeks, dragging away the wet trails with your thumbs, your own cheeks soaked with your sadness.

“Don’t go.” He begged, repeating himself as his hands gripped your waist and held it tight, as if he could keep you in this spot forever. “Please, I’ll figure things out, I’ll give you space if you need it, just please stay.”

“Bakugou, please don’t make this hard.” You whimpered, moving your hands off his face, but his own just whipped up and grabbed yours, hugging them against his chest that was trembling as his tears fall more freely. You could feel his heart beating away through the material of his t-shirt and tried to memorize the rhythm.

“What about what I want? What if I decided already that I want you?” His voice was growing frustrated as he gripped your hands. He was holding them so tightly his knuckles were growing white as he spoke with desperation. “I want you, I want to hold you and kiss you and tell you all the things I never said when I should have. Does that not matter?”

“It doesn’t matter because you love her!” You snapped, “You proposed to her, you have her pictures on your walls and her in your heart. You feel safe with me Bakugou, you’ve known me long enough to not be scared of what could happen with us, that’s all this is. You never once were thinking of me when you developed feelings for her, if you were then you wouldn’t have developed those feelings. “

“You don’t know that.” He said loudly, throwing his hands up into the air as he shook his head, turning from you and walking across the room, beginning to pace again.

“Do you know what it’s like to watch the person you love love someone else, Bakugou?” Your eyes were blurry as more tears built up, your throat feeling like his hands were around it choking you when you tried to speak. Your breathing was becoming shaky, voice thick with from your crying. “It’s the most painful thing in the entire universe. It takes all of your good thoughts about yourself and consumes them, turning them into fuel for the self hatred it forms. I don’t like who I am anymore. I don’t like waking up every morning wanting to cry because you don’t love me.”

“I do love you.” His voice cut in, his body turning towards you again, eyes boring into yours from across the room. “I love you so much, more than I can explain.”

“You may love me, but you’re not in love with me. “ You wavered as you looked away from him, his heart breaking gaze too much to take when you were already having a breakdown. “There’s a difference and you know it. Distance is what we both need, so you can focus on Camie and I can try and move on from these feelings like you started to.”

“I haven’t fucking moved on!” His voice was so loud it made you jump, it reverberating around the small space and filling every corner. “Don’t you get that? Don’t you understand that seeing you with another guy makes me want to fucking explode? Do you think I don’t see how damn beautiful you are when you smile or feel how huge your laughter makes my heart swell? Do you think all that just went away because I started moving on?”

“It has to!” You snapped right back at him, your head lifting up to let your eyes meet, “Whatever chance we had is gone! We both waited too long, way way too long.”

“Stop fucking saying that!” He shouted, his eyes full of anger, perhaps at you or perhaps at the situation you’d both landed yourselves in, the warm tears flowing full force from him now. “You don’t get to just decide when our chance is over. You don’t get to just pick that we never get a shot!”

“We had a shot! We had a shot and we were both too fucking chicken to do anything about it and now that shot is gone!” You argued, hands tugging through your hair exasperatedly, body tired from crying and chest sore with the sobs still fighting to get out. He stared at you for a moment before his body was charging him across the room to you, face distraught.

“No.” He decided, feet carrying him to directly in front of you, his hands raising up and cupping your cheeks before you could process what was happening. “No it’s not.”

And then, his lips were pressed onto yours.

Your back was pressed against the wall behind you, his body molded against yours and his hands delicately holding you against him, his lips moving languidly. The kiss was desperate and needy, his hands leaving your face only to grab at your middle, arms then sliding around it. Your own hands found their way to his biceps as your slotted together lips muffled your crying.

It felt like everything, everything you’d ever wanted and everything in your heart you knew you couldn’t have, not now anyway, not while his heart still belonged to someone else, at least partly. His tears slipped between your lips, the kiss salty against your tongue. He lifted his hands to cradle your neck as a quiet, muffled cry fell past his own lips that were still pressing into yours.

He was everywhere inside you, in every single bone of your body, in every muscle that tensed and moved as he pulled you tighter to him, your leg slipping between his. He filled your senses in a way only Bakugou could, and you savored the kiss because it may be the only one you ever had. The one kiss to solidify that you had both broken eachother’s hearts without even trying, that you had murdered the chances you both were presented.

Because it was too late, it was to late now and he knew it even if his desperate kisses were trying to prove himself otherwise. Your time had come and gone and now you were both left broken, half of your hearts given to the other but never held how it was supposed to have been.

The kiss felt like so much, like all the things you’d wished you had done differently. All the times you had almost kissed him or held him. All the times you’d almost said those three simple words and changed everything. All those times he’d nearly held you too long, the times he’d spent late at night contemplating calling you and saying everything he ever felt.

But most of all, it felt like a goodbye.

A goodbye you never wanted to have.

“Please don’t go.” He hiccuped against your lips as you pulled away, his forehead pressing into yours as your breathes mixed together between you. “Please, I’ll do anything.”

You wanted to give in so badly, to just stay and live in the little bubble Bakugou was trying to make. To pretend you didn’t care he’d have unresolved feelings for another woman, to pretend that your life wasn’t a complete mess, but you couldn’t.

So when he laid you on the bed and kept whispering how much he loved you into your ear mixed with his sobbing, you let him. You let him whisper all the things to you you’d wished he had said sooner. You let yourself pretend that this wasn’t just for the night. You tricked yourself into believing that love was enough.

You let yourself pretend to sleep in his arms while your tears grew silent and his rapid choked breathing grew even. You let yourself feel his arms around you all night long while you listened to his heart that beat in his chest and pretended it only belonged to you. You let yourself pretend that finally, finally he was yours.

But when the sun rose and poked through the curtains casting a faint red glow on his features, you detached yourself from his arms, the bubble bursting and fading into nothing. The feelings you’d finally let yourself have, if only for a few hours, enough to give you the strength to pull out of bed.

You pressed a faint kiss against his parted, sleeping lips, his figure curling into itself as one silent tear dripped from your face onto the sheets beside him. Your bottom lip trembled as you pulled away, grabbing your things from your dresser drawer quietly before heading for the door.

You paused as you gripped the door handle, taking one last look back at his sleeping figure as you bit your cheek and fought out a whisper to his deaf ears.

“I love you, Bakugou.”

And then, you were gone.

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