#the six words that completely broke me and healed my heart at the same time

[that-disabled-princess]

"None of us know how long we have. We don't know what tomorrow holds. And Mjlonir... Mjlonir chose you. And it chose you because you're worthy."

--Thor: Love and Thunder

[satorusugurugurl]

My Wedding Date is an Escort!

Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.

Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader

Word Count: 3,682

Warning: Mentions of depression, anxiety, language

A/N: And so part one is complete!! Please let me know what you think! I plan on posting a new part every Saturday! In the mean time I will work on my brain worm fics/requests!!

Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight

Gold calligraphy mocked you as you stared at the wedding invitation on your table. Any normal person would have been elated over their best friend getting married. The dresses, cake, looking at venues! It should have been a happy, wonderful time.

And it would have been amazing if your best friend had met her fiance through anyone other than Toji Zenin. Your ex-fiance, the man who broke your heart, who was also the groomsman at the wedding! The same wedding you were a bridesmaid in.

Life fucking hated you.

Your break up was a year and a half ago. It was tucking painful, watching the life and future you had imagined slip away. You were inconsolable for the first few months, but any other person would feel the same if their fiance broke up with them the way Toji had done to you. Part of you liked to think you were getting better; you knew you weren't healed completely.

The closer the wedding came, the more nervous and sick you got. In a month, you would have to face Toji for the first time in over a year. He was doing much better off than you. He got married! He was now Toji Fushiguro and he and his wife had a son!

Fate was a cruel bitch. He was living his dreams: a house, a pretty wife, a sweet, beautiful son. Toji got everything he wanted while you sunk into the darkness of despair. Toji had ruined you, marked you in ways you weren't sure you'd ever heal from. You never wanted to be hurt like that again. That's why you were single.

Single and traumatized. Perfect intro on your dating profile. So yeah, dating wasn't your thing right now.

Which puts you in a messy fucking predicament. You would be at a wedding with your Ex, who was living the life you had always wanted. Why was he given happily ever after while you were left to pick up the pieces of your broken heart? You could already see the pitiful expressions that your loved ones would be wearing, and that made your skin crawl with anxiety.

You could not show up to the wedding alone.

Which is why you were sitting in your kitchen, drowning in anxiety. You stared at your laptop, bouncing your leg nervously as you scrolled on Escorts4y0u.com. Damn, Yu Haibara, for suggesting this to you. You were shopping for a fuckin’ escort!?

You shot his insane suggestion down as soon as he said it. You had begun ranting about how even more embarrassing it would be if your family found out. First, your fiance leaves you a month before your wedding. Then you go and pay for someone to pretend to be your boyfriend all because you couldn’t bear yourself to start dating again?

Amid your nervous rant, Haibara just put his hand on yours. He assured you that no one would know that they were an escort. If they were good at their job, all your family would see was a happy couple. They would be someone to go to the wedding with, and once you paid them, you would never see them again! No one would be the wiser.

“It's their job to make you feel good and help you have a good time. And you deserve to be happy.” Haibara had said with pity in his eyes. Just thinking about his face, that expression, made you cringe to think of the faces of everyone at the wedding.

“Fuck it.” You cursed, clicking on the escort you liked the most.

Gojo Satoru, twenty-eight years old. His profile listed that he was well-educated and came from a prestigious clan. He was charismatic, confident, and kind. You read dozens of reviews. His previous clients gushed over him. All five stars, every single person he’d helped was grateful for him. Plus, Gojo was very attractive. He had pure white hair, was over six feet tall, and had the most stunning blue eyes you'd ever seen. He was the ideal partner anyone would want to take home to meet the family.

Which would explain why he was the most expensive escort on the website.

“¥120,000 for a day!?” You screeched as you bounced your leg faster, doing the mental math in your head. “That’s ¥900,000.00 for a week.” The mere amount of money you were about to spend almost had you slamming your laptop shut. But Haibara’s face crossed your mind; Toji’s face began to form before you shook your head.

Hiring Gojo was your only option. You had to do this to avoid getting hurt again. Plus, you had to use the deposit from your honeymoon eventually. It would be like burying the past!

“Okay, okay, you got this; just book it Y/N!” Getting up, you jumped up and down to hype yourself up before you hit the green phone icon and dialed the number. The phone rang once and twice.

“This is Gojo!” A gruff but cheery voice answered.

You’re sure your soul left your body as you squealed in shock. He answered!? The man you were going not only to pay but also beg to pretend to be your boyfriend?!

“Hello?” A faint hint of humor and curiosity laced the voice in your ear.

You groaned, rubbing your hand down your face with a whine. “S-Sorry, I was expecting a receptionist for something.” You put the phone on speaker before hitting your head against your table.

“Oh! My bad, sorry!” His chuckle was a deep noise through the receiver. “We put our business numbers on the site. It’s just easier for us to schedule our clients like this.” He hummed. “I assume you’re on the escort website?”

“Yes, I—I was wondering if you might be free next month for a wedding? It’s my best friend.”

“Give me a sec.” Shuffling papers filled your anxiety. “A month from today?”

“Yes.”

Gojo hummed happily, “I am free that whole week! So will it be the wedding and reception?” A pen could be heard writing down notes.

”So it’s uhm, it’s a destination wedding. It’s in Kyoto, and I need you for the whole week. If that’s not an issue or problem.”

”Okay, that shouldn’t be an issue. It’s far enough out that I can block my schedule.” He whistled happily, jotting down more notes. “So the whole week, wedding, reception—“

For some odd reason, it sounded like he was hesitating or weighing his options, questioning if he wanted to even take you on as a client. The growing fear of rejection spreads like wildfire through your stomach. You never used to feel like this; you were so happy and confident before. But after everything Toji did, what he said to you after you had—well, it left some really deep scars that still hadn’t healed. When your mind picked at those still healing wounds, making them bleed, you acted before thinking.

”I have the money!” Gripping the table's edge, you stared at Gojo’s headshot on the website. “Please, I need this!”

“Hey, hey! I’m not worried about the money, sweetheart.” His voice was thick like honey; the pet name sounded so sweet. “I’m just making sure I got everything down.” On the other line, Gojo looked down at his calendar. There was something in your voice, desperation, that was genuine.

He’d had tons of clients, and many of them needed help. But in his two years of working in this field, he had never heard such a raw plea for help. Gojo’s interest peaked. Just who were you? What made you so anxious and desperate for his help?

”Let me confirm the details so I can put you in my books, Ms.?” He waited for your name, hearing you sigh in relief as you calmed yourself down

”Y/N, my name is Y/N Y/L/N.”

”Y/N,” Gojo repeated, “Okay, I have you down for next month, the whole week, for a destination wedding in Kyoto.”

You were sighing happily as you relaxed into your chair. “Thank you. It’s 900,000.00. For the whole week?” Gojo cocked an eyebrow, grinning at your straightforward attitude.

”Depends, will food and hotel be included?”

“Yes, we’ll be staying at my parents' inn; they offered to host my friend's wedding. So food, money, and accommodations will be included. Plus, I’ll take care of your travel expenses.”

Gojo turned in his desk chair, biting his lip as he listened to your stern voice. “Okay, so it’s going to be ¥600,000. A lot of the cost goes to food and hotels. Since you’re taking care of it, you get a lovely discount, sweetheart.” A scoff sounded from his phone, making him smile even wider.

”Great, lucky me.”

Gojo bit his lip, chuckling. “Did you want any other additions?”

“If you’re asking if I want to include your other services, no. I don’t need sex.”

“Don’t need sex?” He perked up as Suguru, his roommate, peeked in, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Seriously?”

You gave the phone a confused look as if you were looking at Gojo yourself. “Yes, I’m dead serious.” The line went utterly silent before rich, stunned laughter filled your kitchen.

”Well shit, that’s a first!”

”Glad I could keep you on your toes, Gojo.”

”Nope.”

You blinked. “No, what?” Gojo snickered as you picked up your phone heading into your room.

”I’m going to be your boyfriend. You have a month, one month, to get used to saying my first name.” The seriousness of his tone made you stop in your tracks. “So it’s Satoru to you, Y/N.”

With a blush dusting your cheeks, you giggled, shaking your head. “Alright, that makes sense. Thank you, Satoru.”

”You’re welcome, Y/N. I’ll see you in a month.”

In one month, you were ¥600,000 poorer, and your nerves were shot as you searched for your fake boyfriend at the train station coffee shop. In the last month, you had spoken to Goj—Satoru twice over the. Once to book his services and yesterday to discuss where you were meeting. His company took care of everything else.

It was still surreal that you hired an escort to be your date, and you were waiting for a stranger at a coffee shop. This wasn't like you; it was so unbelievable. You sipped your coffee, looking around anxiously.

It was like a Greek God walked in. He was tall, like his profile said, over six-three. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes as his white fluffy hair bounced with every step. Straightening, you hesitated before lifting your hand and waving at your fake boyfriend. Seeing your arm raised, Gojo grinned, bounding forward as he pulled his sunglasses off.

“Hi! Are you Y/N?” You stood, swallowing as he still towered over you. God, he was dressed nice, all designer brand clothes. Which wasn't surprising with the amount of money you dropped to spend a week with him.

“Yes, I'm Y/L/N Y/N.” You handed him a cup of coffee that he took before sitting at the table. “Thank you again for doing this.”

Gojo grabbed six sugar packets, ripped them open, and poured all of them into his coffee. “Oh, you're welcome! I love seeing people happy.” Your eyes followed his hands as he poured cream into the coffee. “So, what's our story? That way, we're on the same page.” You couldn't help but smile as he sipped the sugary coffee with a grin.

“You have a sweet tooth?” Gojo hummed, taking another drink. “Maybe I'll make you something at the inn; I'm a pastry chef.” Gojo’s eyes went wide as you ran your fingers over the lid of your cup. “That’s a good story, we met at the bakery I wor—”

“You're a pastry chef?!” Gojo’s eyes sparkled. “Seriously?! What shop?!”

“Uhm, I work at Ichigo Cafe? It's in downtown Tokyo.”

“I love that place! The mochi there is the best!” His words had your cheeks burning your cheeks. “The cakes, the ice cream! Hell, the coffee is good too.”

You twirl your thumbs together. “Thank you, as the head chef, that makes me happy.” Satoru sat back, smiling sweetly. “So I uhm, yeah, that's a good story.”

“Yeah, it does. How long have we been together?”

The two of you settled on five months. That way, it was still pretty new. The whole time, Satoru nodded and added to your cover story. Thank god he was easy to talk to, putting your nerves at ear by the time your coffee was finished. Together, you were optimistic that you and Satoru could get through this week without a hiccup.

You both settled in on the train, getting to know each other more like favorite colors, foods, likes, and dislikes. Satoru didn't drink, had a major sweet tooth, and did his escorting gig full-time. He lived with his roommate and best friend, Geto Suguru, and he had a lot of free time.

You told him everything about yourself: likes, dislikes, favorite color, hell, even your blood type. But as the conversation began to dwindle, Satoru tilted his head. Sure, all that stuff was good now for the coming week, but he wanted to know more. Like why you hired him and why you ‘don’t do sex.’ That question had plagued his mind for the last month.

“Can I ask why you hired me?” His question had your head snapping up. “I mean, don't take this the wrong way, but you've been tense since we got on the train. There's more to this than just wanting a date to a wedding.”

“Uhh, is that obvious? I'm sorry. It's just my ex-fiance is at the wedding party with me.” Satoru paid close attention to how your eyes darkened as you looked out the window. “Our breakup was a shock since it happened a month before our wedding. So, I have all these trust issues, and I don't want to date anyone. Because it's easier not to get hurt if you don't put yourself out there.”

“Why did he break up with you?”

“Why didn't he?” The tone of your voice and words had Satoru peeking up. Not in curiosity but surprisingly in anger. Satoru had seen a lot of women and men in his days as an escort. Many are desperate, lonely, and want to have a good time. But whoever had broken your heart had hurt. You in more ways than one. “There were a lot of things that he uhm—listed off.”

You quickly changed the subject, much too fast for Satoru’s liking. But he wasn’t the type to pry, especially when it came to the feelings and comfort of his clients. So he let you change the subject. And the rest of the train ride to Kyoto, even up to your family's inn, the subject stayed clear of your ex. It was bad enough you’d be seeing him soon; you would much rather not talk about him before you saw his face.

You stood in front of the door to your family's inn. Satoru grabbed your hand, his fingers interlacing with yours as you took a deep breath. “Hey, we got this.” God, you hoped Satoru was right; this had to go perfectly.

Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, you stepped inside. The laughter and distant conversations echoed off the halls as wedding guests conversed and chatted while wandering around. You spotted your mother carrying a tray. She took one glance at you before looking away.

”Oh, Y/N darling, good you’re here. Whenever you get a chance, could you help me make some treats for afternoon tea? Everyone is instant with trying those matcha cookies you made last year.” After years of helping out, in the end, your body began to move on muscle memory, but Satoru stopped you, pulling you into his side with a grin.

“Hey, don’t just up and leave me. At least introduce me to your family first, sweetheart.” The bustling, noisy chatter around you stopped as your family and friends just seemed to notice the giant man standing beside you. His arm wrapped around your waist as he leaned down to kiss your temple. “My poor sweet girl is already in work mode. I thought this was supposed to be a vacation.”

”Right, of course, I’m sorry, Satoru. Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Gojo Satoru.”

”Eh!?”

Those sad, pitful reactions you had been so familiar with over the last year and a half were nowhere to be found on the faces of your loved ones. They were faces of shock, curiosity, and joy. A much better reaction, one that had you letting out a shaky breath you had no idea you were holding in. As you basked in relief, dark eyes watched the two of you, reading you.

The afternoon went off without a hitch. Satoru fit in with any conversation thrown his way. From what he did for a living to how the two of you met, he never stuttered or looked to you for help. He was exactly what you needed. With Gojo by your side, you knew you could get through this wedding without losing yourself in the darkness again.

You owed Haibara big time for this.

After the two of you answered several rounds of twenty questions and an early dinner, you and Satoru stepped into your room. You shut the door, sliding back against it as you shut your eyes. “Oh my gosh, that went much better than anticipated.” Satoru chuckled, setting both of your luggage off in the corner of the room.

“You did great.” His praise had you smiling more. “Seriously, this will be a walk in the park!”

You wanted to agree with him, but your mouth remained shut. That was just your family you met with. Things might be a different story when you face Toji. Because despite you not wanting him to, you knew he could read you like a book. He always could tell when you weren’t feeling the best or something was wrong. But maybe, if you keep playing your card right, you might be able to fool him, too.

”Yeah, a walk in the park.” You looked around the room, relieved to find the futon already laid out for you both. But it was missing the extra pillows you had asked for. The pillows that were going to be used to separate you and Satoru. “Huh, I thought my dad said the pillows would be here when we got to the room. I’ll be right back; the shower is just to the right if you want to wash up first.”

“Awesome, thanks a lot.”

As you reached for the door, the handle turned, startling you. Satoru moved so fast, his arms wrapping around you as the door opened wide. “Have you ever heard of knocking before? My girlfriend and I could have been doing something. If you saw that, I would have had to charge you for the show.” Satoru started as the door opened wide, revealing the person standing in front of it, four pillows in his arms.

”You seriously think I believe that?”

Your body went rigid as you stared into the dark eyes of the man who broke your heart. “T-Toji? What are you doing here?” You learned further back into Satoru’s chest, trying to put distance between the man that had stained your life.

“Bringing you your pillows.” He motioned his chin down at them to emphasize his words. “Look, we need to talk.”

Satoru could feel your breath quicken, your chest moving faster with each inhale you took. From your reaction, he could figure out just who exactly this asshole was. This dark-haired asshole who just barged into your room had to be the ex you didn’t want to talk about in any way, shape, or form. Looking at him, Satoru came to one conclusion without even knowing the guy. He was a fucking prick.

”Look, Toji, I’m exhausted. I don't want to talk right now.” You snatched the pillows away from him. “Satoru and I were going to get ready for bed. I require some TLC tonight.” You went to shut the door, but Toji placed his palm against it, preventing it from moving.

”Please, you and I both know this isn’t your boyfriend. I need to talk to you now. Tell your friend here he can fucking wait until our conversation is over.”

The tone and mere attitude of the prick in the door had Satoru seeing red. He released you, turning you to face him, glaring daggers at the man spewing toxic commands. “I’m not a friend.” Satoru spit out the last word. In a flash, his hand gripped your chin, turning you towards him. His other hand rested on the back of your head, pulling you into a kiss.

It was your first kiss in a year and a half, a kiss that was full of rage and passion like you had never experienced before. Satoru’s kiss was for show, but fuck, it had your knees buckling. You matched his pace, kissing him back urgently. His hands tangled in your hair while you fisted his shirt. You prayed that this mini-makeout session was enough to fool your ex. Satoru pulled away to glare at Toji. His chest rose and fell as he slowly licked his bottom lip with a smirk.

“My girlfriend and I were just getting ready to bed, if you caught the drift. If she wants to talk to you tomorrow, she’ll find you. Later.” Without another word, Satoru slammed the door in Toji’s face before turning to face you.

”Wow.” Was all you could manage to say as you ran your fingers over your lips. Seeing you do that while hearing your breathless voice had Satoru fifty shades of red. In his whole career as an escort, he has never lost his cool like that until he was with you.

Oh, he was fucked.

(TBC)

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Love Has No Limits

Part 2 of You Play Stupid Games, You Win Stupid Prizes

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Reader, Past! Bradley 'Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader

Description: It's been two months since you broke up with Bradley Bradshaw, two months since you've been on an aircraft carrier. Things with Jake are great; they're better than ever. But you're still terrified to hand him your heart. What will you do when a tense situation on board nearly has you lose him too?

Disclaimer: Female!Reader

Warnings: Cheating, Cursing, Sex, Sexual Themes, Minor mention of non-consensual rough sex, Panic Attack

The content presented in this story is for audiences age 18 and over only. MINORS DNI. I will not be accepting taglist requests from Blank or Ageless Blogs for this story.I do my best to portray adult relationships in this fic. Please do not interact with this story if you feel you are not ready to read about these themes.

Word Count: 6418

A/N: Without further ado, here is the second installment of the You Play Stupid Games, You Win Stupid Prizes Universe. Remember when I said it was going to be short? I lied. We're looking at around 5 or 6 installments right now! All the thanks I have go to @desert-fern who was kind enough to beta read this chapter for me and teach me how to angst!

AO3: Cross-posted here!

My Masterlist

Previous Part | Series Masterlist | Next Part

Aircraft carriers are both bigger and smaller than civilians think. They’re longer than three football fields and can hold four squadrons of planes, their flight and operations crews, their pilots, and all other personnel necessary for carrier function. That’s the big part. The small part is how maze-like the hallways are inside. Some are so narrow that two people can barely walk side by side with an inch of space between them. There are so many decks and ways to reach the same destination. 

You still remember your first time on a carrier. It had turned you around so badly that you needed to draw maps to get around. The disorientation had taken three months to get over, and you’d only been on the ship at that time for four months while running an analysis on the ship’s radar software. 

Your current time onboard has been completely different. For one, you’d gotten your sea legs much sooner and had easily found your way around the carrier. The second was your team on the carrier. Mara was still a godsend. You loved working closely with her. When the two of you put your heads together, it felt like nothing could stand in your way. 

And then there were the pilots testing your work. Mickey was as badass as you'd always been told he was. Immensely smart and a genuine sweetheart to boot. The one person who you couldn't place was Jake Seresin. He was the same as always up in the air - cocky, arrogant, and confident.

It was when he was out of the air and off duty that he was completely different. Jake had been incredibly sweet to you over the past six weeks the four of you had been on the carrier. You would have never expected it of Hangman. You knew he could be nice but sweet? It still amazes you how easy it is to get along with him. A small part of your psyche is still mortified by how you cried in his arms, but the larger part of you really liked how it felt. He felt safe. He felt like you were home.

It's past midnight as you toss and turn in your bunk. Your mind is running around in circles; all you can think of is Jake, Jake, Jake. In actuality, it has only been two months since you broke up with Bradley Bradshaw. While his betrayal still stings, like salt in a wound, in truth, the wound has been healing slowly. Initially, that wound was all you could feel, all your love turning to ash instantly. You’d felt like the aftermath of a forest fire with the gnarled ashy husks of trees stretching into the sky as embers still burned on the ground below. Then you’d finally let yourself cry that night. You’d felt all the embers flicker out under that warm spring rain and felt something new take root.

It’s the something new that’s been consuming you recently. Your heart stutters in its steady cadence when Jake looks at you nowadays. You get lost gazing into his green eyes, your normally quick brain grinding to a halt when faced with the power of his gaze. You’d thought falling in love with Bradley Bradshaw and its aftermath were the most intense emotions you’d ever felt. You’re starting to think you were wrong. You’re not shy. 90% of the time, you’d argue that you’re the opposite. But occasionally, Jake will sit down next to you, say something witty, flash that megawatt grin, and take your breath away. Every time that happens, you feel like a recalcitrant computer, needing to force-reboot your brain before it gets stuck on his dimples, eyes, or the toothpick in his mouth.

The worst part is how you used to pride yourself on your professionalism. With Jake Seresin, that professionalism had been stripped away as you poured out your heart and soul, showing him your weakness. And you’re constantly feeling wrong-footed. It’s an undercurrent to each interaction you’ve had with him, and you’re unsure if you want more with him. Can you take things slow? Your bruised heart might be screaming, “NO!”, at the top of its lungs, but your head is chanting, “YES!”, back just as adamantly.

It’s as quiet as it can be on an aircraft carrier. The creaking of your bunk, the steadfast rocking of the boat, and the snuffling sounds of people asleep around you are all you can hear. And then you hear the wheezing groan of the bunk above you as Mara climbs down. Her voice is sleep mussed as she leans over and slips on her shoes.

“Y’can’t sleep, can you? I’m gonna go switch out with one of the boys. Your tossing and turning are keeping me awake.”

“‘M sorry for keeping you awake, Mar. I haven’t been sleeping well. I hope the boys don’t get too angry at you for disturbing them.”

“Mickey might. But Jake? I don’t think he’ll object if I tell him it’s for you.”

And as the metal door clangs shut softly behind her, you’re left alone with your thoughts again. Obviously, you're not great at hiding how your thoughts turn to static in his presence. But despite what Mara has been telling you for months and Mickey for the past couple of weeks, you still can’t believe that Jake Seresin could ever harbor a soft spot for you. You’re rapidly eclipsing a singular soft spot for him, yourself. You can feel your resolve waver and become a pool of goop nearly daily. You’re not sure it’s safe to expose your heart again. Not really. But god, do you want to try.

You’re startled out of your reverie as the door opens. In the half-light spilling in from the hallway, you see a silhouette you’ve become intimately acquainted with over the past months.

“Hey, Bitsie. Mar told me you were having trouble sleeping. Mind if I join you?”

“J-Jake. Yeah, of course. I don’t mind.”

There’s a rustle of fabric, and you’re expecting to hear the creak of the bunk above you as he climbs up and settles in. But that’s not what you get. Instead, you get pushed to one side of the bunk and there is suddenly an interloper in your sheets. You can feel his naked skin pressing into yours as he drags the blankets over your shoulders and his hands sliding soothingly up and down your back as you lie stiff against him.

“C’mon, Bitsie. Relax. I’ve got you.” 

The sweetness in his tone has you reeling. It takes a few moments before you finally let yourself go limp, surrendering to the thrall of his sleep-warm skin. He still smells like his cologne, something warm and musky with a slight hint of floral tones. And his body feels like a furnace. He's so warm. His arm wraps around your waist, drawing you in until you can feel the heat of his breath against your face. 

“There. Isn’t that more comfortable?” He sounds so smug as he settles in with his big hand resting flush against your back. 

Your answering hum is weak, nearly too quiet. Your heart is pounding, and you can already feel your thoughts race.

"Y'know, Jake, I didn't think you'd do this. I thought you'd take Mara's bunk."

"Mm. I gathered by how you went as stiff as a board as I pulled you close." 

You can feel the rise and fall of his chest from where you are. Each breath is hypnotically steady.

"I was going to suggest an orgasm or two to help you unwind, but I didn't think you'd appreciate that suggestion."

You smack his arm, keeping your hand there as you grin into his chest. You’re grumbling under your breath as he tugs you even closer. Your feet are trapped between his calves as he rests his hands against your hips. You can feel the heat and roughness of his grip as he trails his fingers over the sliver of skin exposed from where your t-shirt had ridden up over the past hours you had been tossing and turning. 

A chill slinks down your spine at the gentle touch, sending shocks of unease through you. It reminds you of another set of fingers gripping too tight at your hip in the heat of a fun night at the Hard Deck. Bradley had been drinking quite heavily that night, and he’d pawed at you, his normally gentle hands rough and harsh as they traced your skin. Jake had pulled him away that day and helped him sober slightly. But when he’d come back, Bradley had possessively clutched at you. He’d called you a slut that night, for the first time, as he fucked you until your eyes welled with tears and your cunt stung from the constant abuse he was wringing on your system. 

The constant gentle press of Jake’s hands on your skin had you nearly hyperventilating. You push them away, and you’re sure Jake can tell how uncomfortable you are as he withdraws his hands immediately. He leaves as much space as possible in the tiny bunk between you, and you’re comforted at least a little by how seriously he takes your need for personal space. It takes several long moments before your breathing slows, and that irrational panic begins to fade. You’re reminding yourself repeatedly that Jake isn’t Bradley as you carefully ease yourself into his embrace. His hands are hesitant as he curls his arm around your upper back. Your voice isn’t steady and a little wet as you finally respond to his joking remark from earlier.

"Mmm… but you'd love it, wouldn't you? Another feather in your cap? Another notch in your bedpost?" 

You can't help the sardonic lilt in your voice as your mood flags. You're not sure you could handle it if sex were all he wanted from you. 

"What cap, darlin'? As far as I'm concerned, I don't have one. Not anymore. I haven't even thought about another girl in months. It's only been you. But from the beginning, you made it explicitly clear that Bradshaw was the only man you'd ever want to be with. You also made it equally clear that you didn't want anything to do with me. So I stopped flirting with you and stopped making you smile. I couldn't handle seeing you with him. And then, when the mission started, I couldn't let you hurt alone."

He sounds so different from the Jake, the Hangman you're used to hearing. His voice is gentle and soft as he pulls you close again.

"That's why I guess I've been different since this mission started. I just wanted to make you smile again. I wanted to heal your heart."

"Jake." You can't hide your shock. How do you respond? Did he just confess his feelings for you? You can't resist wrapping your arms around his waist and nuzzling close to his skin.

"M'sorry. M'sorry if I led you on."

"I know, baby. It wasn't your intention. And I know this isn't the right time. You've had a hard few months. I'm not going to pressure you into moving too fast. But you can lean on me, baby. I've got your back. I promise."

You curl in closer to his chest until you can feel the beat of his heart. His shoulders are tense as you press a feather-soft kiss against his skin. 

"Jake. Thank you. I wish I'd never picked Bradley over you. We would've been so happy together. And you would've never hurt me as he did."

Jake presses a feather-soft kiss against your forehead as your words peter out.

“I wouldn’t have, baby. I would’ve made you so happy. You wouldn’t have wanted for a single thing. I’d spend every day making sure you were incandescently happy. But it wasn’t meant to be — you picked Bradshaw. I thought you made the right choice, too. When you smiled that gorgeous grin at him that day, I knew I couldn’t love you how you deserve to be loved. And we can’t go back in time to change that. All we can control is where we go from here. I pick you, darlin’. All you need to do is pick me too. Not now, but when you’re ready.” 

The emotion in his words makes something warm glow in your chest. His chest heaves against your skin as he breathes deeply. You trace your fingers across his face, feeling the prickle of his stubble against the pads as you cup his jaw. His breathing picks up as you press your index finger against his mouth. His lips are soft and moist, slightly chapped against your fingertips as you press lightly against the supple skin.

“What’re you doing, baby?” You grin at the amusement in his tone, withdrawing your finger and pressing a kiss against it before tapping it against his mouth. You’re not expecting him to kiss your fingers back. The warmth in your chest ignites like a bonfire at the gentle caress. Your throat is tight as you press a kiss against the corner of his mouth. 

"Jake, as much as the past months hurt, I also learned a lot from the experience. I learned a lot about myself. What I do and don't like in a partner. And what I deserve as a part of a relationship. I won't ever let anything like that happen again. I promise I’ll choose wisely this time, sweetheart."

Your words are slurring with your exhaustion. The warmth of Jake's skin sends drowsiness coursing through you. 

“I have all the faith in you, sweetheart. And we’re going to talk about what happened to make you nearly have a panic attack later, too. Okay?”

"Okay. G'night, Jake." You can feel his smile as your eyes flutter closed.

"G'night, Bitsie."

Waking up is hard the next morning. There's a heavy limb draped across your back, and you're pressed tight against warm skin. Your legs are intertwined, and it's the most comfortable you've been in a long time. Even in a bunk made for one, it doesn't feel crowded. You feel at home, more than the last time you’d shared a bed with a man. 

Or at least, you would if you didn't hear chattering from two people who don't belong in your quarters before the call to muster even rings in the early morning. They’re not trying to moderate their volume, either. You nuzzle into Jake closer, praying his bicep will block the noise from disturbing your sleep. His arms tighten around you, and you can feel his lips against your hair. If you hide long enough, would they just disappear? Apparently not. The longer you stay curled up in Jake’s arms, the louder the chatter grows, now interspersed with calls of his name, and the bigger his smile grows against the top of your head. He presses one final kiss against your forehead before releasing you and slipping out of the bunk.

“What’s the hurry, Fanboy?” His sleep-mussed voice is going to take you out. It’s rough and rich and deep. You want nothing more than to hear that voice call you “darlin’” again and cuddle up in his arms. But he’s awake and talking to Fanboy about something you can barely hear. His hair is fluffy atop his head, and he still hasn’t put on his shirt. You can just see the shadow of him through the soft sweatpants covering his legs, and the sight has your thighs clenching as he whirls around, grabs his worn Navy tee, and shrugs it on. All the levity has drained from his face as he takes two steps and crouches in front of you. You’re sitting in the bunk now, and your new position has brought you level with his face. 

“What’s going on?” Your voice is soft as you cup his jaw. His eyes close at the press of your fingers against his lower lip. Like the night before, he presses a kiss against your fingertips before pulling you in close enough to whisper in your ear.

"G'Morning, Baby. I wish we could've stayed in bed longer, but something big is happenin’. The Captain wants us suited up and on deck to run flight patrols. The situation is rapidly developing. I have to go. I just wanted to tell you that I love you. I need you to know that in case something bad goes down."

An unpleasant knot tightens in your chest as you tug him in closer by wrapping your hand around the base of his neck. You press a feather-soft kiss against his lips before hugging him tight. His arms wrap tight around your waist, and you can feel his shoulders tense as the adrenaline begins to course through his blood.

“Take care of yourself, and please take care of Mickey. Fly safe, fly true. Don’t do anything life-threatening. And above all, come home. Please.” You can’t keep the catch in your voice as you run your fingers through the short hairs at the base of his neck. “I just found you. Come home to me. So I can tell you I love you for the first time.”

That’s when you hear his breath hitch, and you’re being properly kissed. Everything else melts away except for Jake. It’s a painfully sweet kiss that has your heart racing even as dread slides its cold hooks into you. And it’s over far too soon as he pulls away before following Fanboy to get suited up. It’s a sober mood in your quarters as you and Mara get ready for the day and head to the flight operations center.

The entire ship is a hive of activity. You both have to flatten against the walls multiple times on the way, dodging sailors, flight personnel, and whoever else felt the need to run around in a ship bracing for an attack. You and Mara reach the Captain just as the jets take off. From the Flight Ops Center, you have a near perfect line of sight to see the planes rise like a flock of metallic birds into the sky. You can barely make out Jake and Mickey waiting on deck for their signal to launch and your heart feels tight as you fight the urge to steal a headset and tell him you love him. But you can’t, so all you do is clutch at the railing in front of you with all your strength and pray that they, that he will, come back safe.

“Captain Mills. What’s happening?” The Captain had already begun to sweat through his uniform as he beckons you and Mara closer. 

You can hear the emotion in his voice as he downs the cold coffee in his mug before speaking in clipped tones, “At 10 past 0100, we received reports of patrols in our airspace. Naturally, the first thing we did was contact the COMPACFLT. But the admiral had no notice of flight operations happening in our airspace.” 

The Captain pauses, seeming to try and find the necessary thread in what you assumed was a tangled web of information that would take hours to unwind. “The only reasonable assumption we can make is that it is the enemy. I’m afraid, ladies, that we are now standing by and evaluating the threat. This has the potential to evolve into a serious situation. We are requiring  all non-essential personnel to remain confined to quarters. Consider this an order.”

With nothing better to do, and your heart having taken up permanent residence in your throat, you both head back to your quarters. Your heart aches as you fall into your bunk, which you had made roughly before you rushed out earlier, desperate for any news on the situation Jake was flying into. The pillows still smell like Jake, and if you screw your eyes shut tightly enough, you can still feel the tight press of his arms around you. You want nothing more than to rewind time, to go back to those few precious hours in the middle of the night when you’d had him in your arms - when you could’ve kissed him and when you could’ve told him you loved him. The what-ifs crowd your brain like a feral swarm of bees, sending your thoughts buzzing angrily. The more thoughts crowd your brain, the worse you feel. 

You don’t think you can stand losing Jake. You just found him. That small seed of something between you has only just sprouted. You want to see it grow and flourish into an oak tree; tall and sturdy enough to withstand earthquakes, forest fires, lightning strikes, and flash floods. A tree strong enough to support a treehouse filled with tiny feet, hands, love, and laughter. But you’re not sure that you’ll ever be able to see that nascent sprout grow. Not when half of your heart is in a jet potentially flying into enemy crosshairs. Not when you last told him, “Come home so I can tell you I love you for the first time” instead of the “I love you” he deserved. The “I love you” that you had seen he had so desperately wanted to hear.  Why had you said that? What if your words, your ardent pleas, weren’t enough?  You aren’t omnipotent. You can’t change the trajectory of missiles or bullets. You have no control over anything, not even your racing thoughts as you realize that you might never see him again. Are you going to be cursed to spend the rest of your life imagining the what-ifs of an entire life that could have been?

It’s been hours since you and Mara have been confined to your quarters. Periodically you’ve heard the roar and whine of aircraft engines as they touch down and take off again. Every time you hear the engines’ roar, your traitorous heart skips a beat. You wait, staring at the door, hoping that Jake will bound through, Mickey behind him, still in his flight suit with his hair sweat streaked and sticking to his forehead. And each time, your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach as the minutes pass and you hear the engines tick up again.

"Hey, you doing okay, Bitsie?" Mara’s voice shatters through the daydream you had crafted and it hurts. All you want is Jake in your arms once more, feeling his strong body against yours, hearing his heartbeat in your ear as he holds you close. 

"As okay as can be expected, Mar." Your voice is thin in the silence of your quarters. Mara’s sitting on the sole desk chair while you’re curled up in your sheets. They don’t smell like Jake anymore. It’s driving you crazy, not knowing. You’ve cried what feels like an ocean’s worth of tears and your eyes are swollen and puffy, your voice thick and hoarse from your muffled sobs.

“Do you want to talk about what happened between you and Jake last night? He kissed you this morning. You can’t tell me he’s just a friend. Not after that.” 

Her voice is gentle, her eyes and hands beseeching as you try and fail to find the words. You drag your hand down your face before facing her, letting your legs dangle off the bed as you rest your elbows on your thighs. 

“He’s not just a friend, Mar. He might be everything, and I was too stupid to admit it before now. Once bitten, twice shy, and all that, you know?” There is lingering bitterness in your tone, frustration at yourself for the mistakes you knew you had made in not choosing Jake in the first place.

Your breathing is ragged as you push away the hot feeling in the back of your throat. “I don’t know when it happened. Honest. I didn’t even know I had him, you know? He told me last night that he was interested in me from the moment he met me. But when I picked Bradley, he backed off because he knew that Bradley would treat me as I deserved. That Bradley would love me in a way that he couldn’t. He was wrong. And I was, too, Mar. How do I make the right choice when that choice might not even be here after today?” You are crying again. Somehow you still have tears left to cry, staring at the wall in front of you, these last tears dripping down your chin, marking your pants with the remnants of your despair. 

“I - I don’t know.” Her position mirrors yours as the two of you stare at each other in silence. “But you can’t give up hope. You know they’re good pilots. They’re the best of the best, Bits. If anyone can pull through, it’ll be Jake and Micks. They have to.”

You clasp your hands tightly until all you can feel is the aching stretch of over-taxed muscles. Mara’s right. You can’t do anything but hope. Hope that the boys are alright and hope that your updates to the targeting and radar systems are enough to protect them. 

It’s a runner from the Captain banging on your door who finally brings you news. The poor man is sweat-drenched, panting as he pauses to catch his breath before delivering his message. “The Captain wants you both in the Flight Ops Center. Something’s up with the radar system on Lieutenants Seresin and Garcia’s plane. We need you to help debug and resolve the situation. The improvements you’ve made while working on laser targeting are beyond us.”

“Understood.”

It’s your turn to run through the hallways and have people jump out of your way, Mara right behind you. This time when you enter the Flight Ops Center, it’s pin-drop silent. All eyes are on a singular, all too familiar display. The radar output shows an awfully familiar F-18/A. And you can see exactly why the Captain had called for you and Mara. The display is flickering erratically, jets blinking in and out of sight at random. 

With your heart in your throat, you march right up to the tech on the computer system. "Give me your headset and your seat." Your tone leaves no room for argument, but he still protests, turning away from his fiddling with the system, to look at you in both frustration and disbelief.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I can't do that without the Captain's orders."

"I know. And right now, I don't care. I programmed that radar system. Captain Mills!" You are barking out an order right now, your voice quivering with authority. "Either you get your man out of this seat or I take it from him."

"Let her have the seat, Ensign George. And the headset. I called her here. She's one of the civilian consultants out of the Pentagon who built the damned thing."

You accept the headset and start examining the display in front of you. Pressing a button on the side of the headset you connect to Jake and Mickey's comms. "Auxiliary Patrol. This is Flight Ops Control. How read?"

"Audio clear, Flight Ops Control. How do you read me?" Your heart jumps when you hear Mickey’s voice emanate clearly through the headset.  

Your relief washes over you, settling your racing thoughts and grounding you as you confirm their audio signals before responding, "Loud and clear, Auxiliary Patrol." 

This time, when you hear from Jake and Mickey, it’s Jake’s voice on comms. "Auxiliary Patrol, we’re seeing multiple bogeys on the radar, but they’re ghosting in and out. Can you confirm?”

“Confirming loud and clear. We’re seeing the same thing here.” Your frustration colors your tone as the radar display glitches in front of your eyes."Do visuals confirm what the radar is saying?"

"Flight Ops, negative. Visual showing clear skies." Mickey’s voice is slightly cheeky as he responds. You sigh, knowing that you’re going to have to do something drastic to resolve this issue. 

“Auxiliary Patrol. Can you turn on the external cameras? Flight Ops will act as your eyes while we reboot the radar.”

“Copy, ops. Cameras are live.” You can hear the slightest flick of the switch as Mickey enables the cameras that you and Mara had been using to help monitor the laser targeting system.

“Captain?”

The man nods, silently giving his permission for the order he knew would come next. “The floor is yours.”

“Right. Teams of five, report to one of the monitors. Keep your eyes peeled. We’ve got aviators flying blind and I’ll be damned if we’re taking home coffins after today.” Your voice leaves no room for protests as you address the room. 

The men explode into activity around you and Mara. The two of you, in the meanwhile, keep silent, all your energy on the radar system, scanning the code flying across the screen with eagle-eyes. There aren’t any defects, so you decide to turn the radar back on. “Auxiliary Patrol, this is Flight Ops. We’re rebooting the radar and targeting systems now.”

“Copy, Flight Ops.”

There’s a tense silence blanketing the Flight Ops Center as you hit ‘Enter’ and watch the radar display in front of you blink back to life. It flickers and your breath catches when it stays dark for several long moments before illuminating. It’s finally, blessedly stable. There aren’t ghost bogeys on the screen anymore. Just one very clearly labeled F/A-18A and one very real SU-57.

“Are you seeing what we are, Flight Ops?”

“Copy, Auxiliary Patrol. One bogey, north, northwest bound, approaching your position at 400 knots.”

“Copy, Ops. What are your orders?” Jake’s voice is tense as he spits the words down the microphone.

That’s when Captain Mills finally weighs in again. “Do a flyby, son. Do not engage unless they do. I’ll get on the horn with the COMPACFLT and keep him apprised of the situation.” You relinquish the headset and station back to the radar tech you’d bullied them from and retreat to the peripherals of the room.

The gnawing desperate ache in your chest, the one that had been partially alleviated hearing Jake’s voice, is back again. It’s clawing at you as you clutch at a railing and plant yourself in a corner of the Ops Center. Captain Mills is talking furiously into a satellite phone, you presume to the COMPACFLT. But your eyes are on Jake and Mickey’s jet and their radar display. You can feel each swooping maneuver in the pit of your stomach as their jet approaches the SU-57.

It’s incredibly quiet in the Flight Ops Center as the two jets fly side by side for several long moments. You’re praying with everything you have that this doesn’t escalate, And then, like an answer to all of your prayers, the SU-57 breaks away, heading back in the direction it came.

“Ops, bogey one, now 400 yards away. Distance growing. Permission to return to carrier?”

“Permission granted.”

Captain Mills stalks towards where you and Mara stand. “Thanks for your assistance, ladies. We’re resuming normal operations per order of the COMPACFLT. Your mission will resume bright and early in the morning. I expect to see the both of you and Lieutenants Seresin and Garcia in the Flight Ops Center at 0800. Am I clear?”

“Yessir!” You’re quick to respond with a snappy salute. You’ve trespassed on Captain Mill’s authority one time too many already today with your show of power to the radar tech and for the sake of this operation, you’d rather not step on his toes any more than necessary 

Your heart is light as you walk back to your quarters. There’s a sense of urgency dogging your steps, your lips curling unbidden into a giddy grin. By tacit agreement, Mara leaves you at the door before heading to Jake and Mickey’s quarters two doors down. He’s safe! He’s safe! He’s safe! You can’t quell the trembling of your hands as you wait. You reach for a book to read but you barely get a few words in before you’re dropping it again. It’s only been minutes since you left Flight Ops but your heart is doing acrobatics in your chest at the knowledge that Jake is returning soon. You bite your lip, maybe work will quell these jitters.

Of course, right as you pull up the radar system blueprints, the door to your quarters opens and Jake staggers in. He’s stinking of jet fuel, and coated in sweat, but you’ve never seen a better sight. He’s whole and safe and here with you. It’s all that you’ve been wishing for since he left you early this morning. You want to touch him, make sure he's not a figment of your imagination or a cruel dream from the depths of your subconscious. But no matter how you try to get your legs to move, you're frozen before him. That's when he moves, carefully cupping your jaw and drawing your eyes to his.

"I'm back, baby. Safe and sound, just as promised." Jake’s voice is quiet, like he’s afraid that speaking too loudly will shatter the bubble you two have created around yourselves. His eyes are filled with a softness unlike anything you’ve ever seen in man’s eyes before, let alone his. The sight makes your heart speed up, overjoyed to be in the calm his presence brings you. 

You return his tender caress before wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling yourself impossibly closer. Jake’s hands are gentle as they bracket your waist before he finally lowers his mouth to yours. His mouth tastes like salt, and he stinks, but you can't begrudge the man you adore this kiss. He's more than deserving of it. 

When you part for air, you can feel the imperceptible shudder wracking his muscles as the adrenaline drains away. "Go shower, Jake. You stink." There is a light humor in your tone as you grin up at him, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw, reveling in the minute hitch in his breath as you meet his eyes once more. 

His pout is sweet, and you can't resist pecking his lips once more as he turns and walks back out the door. It's only twenty short minutes later when he walks back in and collapses into your bunk. His hair is still damp, the longer hairs at the top of his head curling slightly as you pull on your own pajamas and crawl into the bunk next to him. 

He mirrors your positions from the night before, tugging you in until his head rests against your breasts and you can feel his warmth across your whole body. You card your fingers through his hair, content to sit in the silence as long as he needs you to.

"Talk to me, baby." His voice is hushed and muffled against your breasts as he breathes deeply. "Tell me how you're doing."

"I feel like I should be asking you that, Jake. I was a wreck when you were up there, but I'm better now. I'm always better in your arms." You hope he knows that you mean every syllable, and you do. A selfish part of you wants to stay in his arms forever; just the two of you in your own little bubble for as long as you can. 

Your throat is tight with the same tears you'd shed all day as you trace over the curve of his ear. "I love you. I should've told you before you left," you whisper, scared to say the words any louder lest they be ripped from you both. 

Jake gasps before kissing you again, hard. He pours all his love and affection into the kiss and you return the ardor as best you can. The two of you kiss for several long moments before he rests his forehead against yours. You lie curled into each other for a while longer before you nuzzle at his cheek.

"Why d'you call me Bitsie, Jake? I've been wondering for a while."

He chuckles before pecking your lips and dragging you in until your lips are pressed to his collarbone. "I started calling you Bitsie because of the first demonstration of the radar you ever gave us. You were talking about manipulating bits. Gosh, it was probably only a couple of weeks since you'd come to Miramar. I was so gone for you already, baby. You're gorgeous, sweet, and smart as a whip. I wanted to show you I was listening to what you said."

"But I didn't take it that way. I was so rude to you the first time you called me that. I thought you were making fun of me." Your voice is soft as you trace a light pattern across his ribs. Your thoughts race as you catalog every interaction you remember having with Jake over your months in Miramar. Had Bradley Bradshaw really brainwashed your perception of him so terribly? Your mind races as you try and fail to find an explanation for your actions. They’ve been petty and rude and you don’t recognize the girl you are in them.

“Why didn’t you say anything? Why did I assume what I did? Jake, how can you ever forgive me?” You hate how small your voice is, the regret at your actions over the past months coloring your tone.

“I can forgive you, sweetheart, because I love you. I have for a really long time,” Jake soothes, one hand cupping your jaw. “And you had a Chicken on your shoulder telling you who was right and who was wrong. Him and I? We have always been on the opposite ends of that scale. And I’ll give you one guess as to which of us is where.”

“He’s wrong, Jake. He’s wrong about you, he was wrong about me. We’ll show him. I’m not hiding this. You’re mine, now. And I want it all with you. Dates, kissing because you feel like it, dancing to the Jukebox in the Hard Deck, everything.”

“We’ll write this story with more than words, darling. I promise. And I love you.” You can feel your eyes close as you curl closer into his embrace, all the tension in your body finally draining away as you fall asleep.

In the morning, you’ll be back to working on the laser targeting systems, back to normalcy. But there’ll be something new to scope the limits of, as well. The butterflies in your stomach this time feel like flower petals kissing your skin. It’s a good portent for the days to come.

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[darklydeliciousdesires]

Beyond the Blood Tie - Chapter Thirty Six.

Previous Chapters - One  Two, Part One Part Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen  Fifteen  Sixteen  Seventeen  Eighteen  Nineteen  Twenty  Twenty One  Twenty Two  Twenty Three  Twenty Four  Twenty Five  Twenty Six  Twenty Seven  Twenty Eight  Twenty Nine  Thirty  Thirty One Thirty Two  Thirty Three  Thirty Four  Thirty Five

Words - 4,009 

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

Edie's POV

"Is it okay that we don't get out of bed much today? I really don't feel like sharing you with anyone, even if that is selfish as I'm sure there's a load of people who want to see you after you got back," I tell Angel, wrapped up in his arms in bed the day after Christmas, just after the sun has finally melted into the horizon, the sky swathed in rich darkness.

"No, that's fine. Eric and Sal have left me messages with Ursula saying they want to come round to see me, but I can put them off until later. As for staying in bed all evening, I think that's entirely possible. I can wait until tomorrow to go and buy a new cell phone. Everyone I want to talk to is under this roof already or is going to be here later. I'm content for us to stay exactly where we are," he murmurs, stroking my hair. I feel so happy, and still in a state of shock really if I'm truthful.

I thought he was dead, or at least the permanent version of dead for vampires, and now here he is lying next to me again. I called Ahmed, Sasha, Vic and Aileen last night before we went to bed, and they were absolutely stunned at my news, but thrilled for me all the same. I just can't believe my luck, I really can't.  

I also cannot believe the strength and determination it took for him to get back to me, or the fact that I was the first person he was compelled to get to first. The thought of what could have happened if those guys hadn't had good hearts… it makes me shudder to think he'd have been thrown over the side to be condemned to a watery grave. It horrifies me because he wouldn't have died right away either, so he told me last night when we sat talking before going to bed, it would have taken time for him to have shut down completely.

"You're going to have to get used to me becoming somewhat of a clingy girlfriend, because I have to confess, I'm frightened to let you out of my sight at present in case you don't come back," I reveal, turning onto my front and stroking his chest while I look down at him.

He reaches for me, thumb circling the apple of my cheek. "I understand that. You must have gone through so much over the last three days prior to yesterday.”

"I did. I was a completely broken and distraught mess. Seeing, and feeling Ursula's pain though, I have a blood tie with her now by the way, that was something else entirely. It ripped her heart in two to lose you," I explain, his hand moving from my cheek to stroke my hair.

"Why the blood tie with Ursula?"  

"One of those guys dragging you out of the shop when you were taken elbowed me straight in the cheek and broke it," I reply, feeling his anger rise up like a firework.

I move to placate him, resting my head onto his chest, stroking the side of his neck. "Calm down, don't go getting yourself all pissed off. I'm fine, Ursula's blood healed me in about three seconds. Damn, that's potent stuff.” He settles instantly, smiling happily once more. "She also thought it safe she have a link to me too, just in case I get in any danger." I then add, before the lady herself knocks on the door.

"Are you both presentable?" she asks after her soft tap.

"Yes," we call back. She then enters and sits down at the other end of the bed while I sit up, propping myself up on a pillow.

"I bring news, significant news at that. I just took a telephone call from Elias. Fifteen other members of the TVM were arrested tonight after successful leads in questioning and names given after torture of the previously arrested vampires. Only one has been released without charge so far out of those, and tonight another fifteen will begin to be questioned. The net is closing in on them.” It's another step closer to finding out who is behind this, and ultimately bringing them all down like toppling dominoes.

"I suppose Dawn still isn't talking? I must confess I was expecting her to have cracked by now. She never seemed the strong type," Angel says, shifting up the bed slightly.

"This is where you, I and many others have underestimated her. She's blind at present, being given low doses of blood. Her eyeballs are near totally burned out from the silver being dripped into them for most of the time, yet still she will not talk. They'll move on to another tactic before long, but I doubt it'll do much good. She's certainly loyal to whoever is in charge, I'll give her that," Ursula sighs before standing. "I shall keep you both no longer, I just wanted to come and relay that to you."

After that, we're free to be alone again, only talking for a short time longer before kissing takes over. Now he's completely recharged and up to strength, it doesn't take a genius to work out what the next need he wants to satisfy is.

"You know, one of the things I missed most was just lying here kissing you, so if you don't mind that's all I'm going to do for a while.” Welcoming the big body of my vampire atop me, I lean to his mouth, my lips locking with his while his hands glide down my arms.

"Why should I mind that? You do just happen to be very good at it." As it turns out, kissing me solely on the mouth is not what he has in mind.  We spend a long time tonight, getting reacquainted.

"You look very thoughtful, mi amor," Angel tells me afterward, kissing my cheek.

"I am. I'm just thinking how lucky I am, to have had you taken from me for what I thought was forever, and now here we are together again. When I thought you'd died, a massive part of me died with you. I've never been good at explaining these kinds of things, but that's how much I love you, how much of a massive part of my life you've become. Life without you in it, well it isn't worth living.”

"Ditto to everything you just said." Is all he replies with before smiling that beautiful smile of his, kissing me into total silence.

Angel's POV

"Are you ever going to stop looking at me like that?" I ask Edie when I catch her gazing at me as I dry off. I just took an extremely enjoyable shower with her, one that only partially involved getting clean.

She lets her eyes roam over me again before replying. "Nope, get used to it."  

Moving to where she’s sitting on the edge of the bed, I lean to her, kissing her pretty lips. “Good job I like it then, isn’t it?” Dressing at speed, I spend a little more time up here lavishing attention on my beautiful woman before we go downstairs, still half wrapped around each other.

"I've missed seeing that, a lovely, big smile on your face," Charles tells us warmly as he's crossing the hallway from his sitting room to the kitchen while pointing at Edie and winking. I'm glad he and Ursula adore her, too.

She has everything she's ever wanted, and also what she went without for so long right under this roof; a real family who love her. Even though only two of us are biologically related, we're a family in every sense of the word, as I'm sure you've noticed. We head through to his sitting room where Ursula and EZ are, and are joined by Sal and Eric ten minutes later. I'm as happy to see them as they are me, and I'm proud that I can see Eric really wants to cry but completely steels himself. He's getting there.

"Ursula, may I ask is it true one of the suspects taken in was Latoria Jackson?" Sal asks my creator not long after they've arrived.

"I'm afraid I cannot divulge names, Salvatore. But suffice to say, if she's currently missing from our midst then well, add one plus one and you get two." Ursula replies cleverly, answering his question for him without actually saying anything revealing.  

She steadfastly refuses to say who has been taken in for questioning, not even to us, her family. We will find out though because when the trial of these vampires begins, their names will be made public. Elias is holding off on that until he can get to the head of the TVM, who we still do not know anything about other than the fact he is male.  

All talk of this is put aside though after Sal's question, and instead we enjoy our evening rather than dissecting the more unpleasant side of life at present, with Sasha and Ahmed joining us all close to midnight, too.

"Oh, the predictability," I mutter quietly when Ahmed and Ursula head upstairs at just before 2am, making Charles hiss with laughter.

"Well, if the wife is off to get her kicks, I'm going to get mine too. Excuse me, everyone." He says before leaving, heading to see one of his humans. He has several, and they mostly follow a pattern. Older than eighteen but less than twenty-one years old, tall and blonde would be that pattern. He likes them young, but not too young.  

At 3am every visiting guest bar Ahmed leaves, and Edie and I head out to the back yard and sit with the wolves, enjoying the night air. It feels good, having the breeze upon my face, enjoying the freedom I suppose I did take for granted. I'd love to just grab Edie's hand and take her for a walk some place right now, but I guess I can't. As soon as the vampires who wanted me dead find out I'm not, well I can imagine they'll come after me again.  

I'm not scared, I don't fear them. The only thing I fear in all of this is Edie getting hurt somehow, and she was hurt badly enough thinking that I'd died. Sometimes I wish I could take her away from here, get her away from this madness, but I won't run away, and neither will she. I will take her away somewhere when all of this has blown over though, she deserves the rest.

"What are you thinking about?" She asks, rousing me from the thoughts I'd drifted off into.

"A time when all this will be over, and we can go back to normal, as well as taking you away on vacation somewhere when it is," I reply, holding my hand out for hers.

"Take me wherever you want to go in the world, I shan't argue with you! I need a vacation, I really do," she replies, moving to sit on my lap.

"Yes, you do. You work entirely too hard and also, you've had a fucking lot of stress to deal with recently, so I'm going to take you somewhere far away from here, so me and you can just enjoy what we've missed so far, enjoying the fact we're together. Two months and one week today, and it feels like two years while strangely enough, it still feels so recent, when I think back to when I was your detainee," I tell her, stroking her arms.

"I hate remembering that time, all the pain I put you through," she laments, moving to sit astride my thighs

"You were just doing your job, I accept that totally and yes, yes you certainly did put me through a lot of pain. The silver chisel being hammered into my spine was perhaps the worst, even though I wouldn't have told you that at the time. You're damn good at what you do, I was very wrong to think I'd suffer nothing considerable at your hands," I state, moving the neck of her sweater lower with and kissing her chest as my other hand slides around her back. "You're also nothing but wonderful now, so there we go." I'm sure that after a longer period of time, I'll find things about her that irritate me. Other than sometimes being a little too loud when she's drunk and also leaving trails of those makeup removing wipes and hair paraphernalia everywhere, there isn't anything else about her I find bothersome.

"Angel, do you think all of this is near the end point now?" she questions a time later, after we're shared content silence, watching the wolves bounce around on the grass a few feet away from where we're sitting.

I take a few moments to mull over my response, my fingers idly playing with her hair. "I think we've reached the eye of the storm, which means we're halfway to it blowing away, then the time to repair any more damage it leaves in its wake begins.”

"I don't want there to be any more damage. I know that sounds like such a childish thing to say, but we've all been through enough. This is, ah, this… it's just bullshit now! I mean really, why are they dwindling like this? They're scared, that's why. They're scared of Ursula, and taking you away meant she was weakened, which was probably when they thought they'd strike but of course, she'd have killed the lot of them if they'd dug her up since vampires replenish their strength at an alarming rate when they go to ground. Fucking pussy assed TVM, they're cowards!" she vents, her tone going from quite nervous to very angry at an alarming rate.  

It just amuses me though, because I love how she isn't scared. If they were humans, she'd fight them all, one by one until she'd broken each one of them. I know she'd do that. I love seeing her strength. I find it so attractive, arousing even. Speaking of arousing, I always find it just that when she sits like this on my lap, because it always reminds me how much I enjoy having sex with her in this very position.

"Don't get angry," I placate, while my hands move her sweater at the neck to slide it down her shoulders, moving to then kiss them in turn.

"I think I'm right in guessing you'd prefer I was anything but right now. Don't worry, I want you just as much as you want me," she purrs before kissing me, her hands stroking my face as she does. It also seems she's very much with me on the fact that I’m content to enjoy her right here out in the garden, our hands undressing one another at speed while your kisses grow in urgency. Our outdoor encounter ends about an hour after it began, with me lying on my back upon the table, Edie breathless on top of me.

"I think we need to get in the shower," she says, her sweaty, mud trailed body resting against mine as she catches her breath. I agree, and after moving us and our clothes at speed that's the exact place we end up for the second time this evening. It doesn't mean we stop having sex for long though, with Edie getting washed clean and then bending over, instructing me to fuck her so hard she screams. I absolutely do.

"I think I'm satisfied now, and nicely exhausted," she hums softly when we're in bed a time later, an hour away from sunrise.

Looking over at her, I raise an eyebrow. "I'd wonder why if you weren't." We then lie here and talk until the sun comes up and the natural pull towards sleep begins to take a hold of me. I look down after Edie has been quiet for a while, and viewing the beautiful sight of her sleeping with her head on my chest is the last thing I see before I join her. When I awake, I find she's up already, and dress to go downstairs where I find her out in the back garden, and also discover the source of the noise I heard upon waking, too.

"Keep more tension in this arm, and just squeeze on the trigger," EZ advises while she holds one of his guns, a .45 in this instance, aiming it at the largest tree in the back yard where there's a target nailed to the trunk. "I thought it'd be useful for her to know how to shoot, so I'm teaching her how before I loan her a gun." He then adds to me when I arrive with them, watching Edie fire the gun and only manage to hit one of the very outer circles of the target.

"Damn it!" she fumes quietly.

"You'll get there, that was only your tenth shot ever and it's dark too. Practice more in the daylight and you'll get even better, just not with silver bullets though, or you'll fucking bankrupt me," he advises, with a small rumble of laughter.

"With how much you're worth, I doubt that's possible," I snort, watching him raise his eyebrows for a moment, and then look back at me with a knowing smile. I'm worth enough as it is (you have to remember vampires amass much more money than you humans, since you have to pay out for a lot more commodities we simply do not need) and EZ is probably worth double that, with what he charges for his services in eradication. He's an exceedingly wealthy vampire. Just then, Edie fires the gun again and this time after its hit the target nearer to the bull's eye, she looks much more pleased with herself.

"A definite improvement, Edie. Like I said, it's all down to practice, familiarising yourself with the gun, the way it feels in your hand, the power of the kick. If you'll excuse me for now." Heading back inside, he and Ursula cross paths as she comes to us, my face alight when she gives Edie’s next shot a round of applause, stroking her hair and kissing her head, whispering ‘that’s my girl.’

"I just thought I'd come and watch Edie’s target practice before I head to Angela's to give her this book back that she lent me, and then go back to the side of that beautiful human I still have tied to the bed upstairs," she informs us, of course referencing Ahmed. Knowing Ursula, she probably does have him tied up, too. She's into all of that in a big way.  

"You're not exerting my friend up there too much are you, Ursula?" Edie asks, before firing another shot and then jumping for joy when she hits the bull's eye.

"I am yes, but he likes it," she grins wickedly before leaving us to it. Apparently, Constance and Coco are travelling back tonight as we speak, so I'm sure Ahmed's stay here will only be until then, when Ursula will have more important things on her mind than having sex with her favourite choice of human.  

When they arrive two hours later, once again the elders all shoo us young out of the way, until I decide that I don't want to be pushed aside any longer, planting my feet. I'm standing my ground on this. This is something that has been on my mind since I was captured, and it's going nowhere but out of my mouth. What I have to say needs to be heard.

"No, sorry but I refuse to obey this request," I state plainly, raising my eyebrows with all the petulance I dare when Constance immediately looks angry.

"We're doing this for your own good, because if you..." she begins.

"If what, Constance? If I'm taken, then they can't question me over what I know? You stupid fucking woman, they took me already and all they planned was to kill me, so what the fuck does it matter? Seriously, all this 'to keep you safe' bullshit is getting old, because it isn't keeping us safe, so you need to include us all in this. We have to start working together, and I know at your age its almost fucking impossible for you to ever listen to anyone else, because you think you're imperatively right a thousand percent of the time, but you aren't. We want to be included in this," I cut in and vent with every bit of anger that's been building up within me since I was taken away.

"If you weren't Ursula's offspring, you'd be dead for talking to me like that, you jumped up little shit!" Constance snarls angrily after a few seconds' pause. She's probably never had anyone talk to her like that for over a couple of thousand years, but she needed to hear it. They all needed to hear it.

"Enough shouting at each other!" my creator yells loudly.

"We're fed up of being kept in the dark, Ursula. I think Angel is perfectly just in what he stated, especially since he's already had happen to him what you're all trying to prevent. These rules you're all following, they're not the same ones as the TVM are, because they play by no rules. I think it's time we did the same," EZ then voices, while Constance just looks more shocked by the moment. She doesn't like being disagreed with.

"The children are right; I must agree with them. Come in, come sit, and we will get to the bottom of this mess together as a family, as we should have from the start." Charles then interjects with, Ursula agreeing with him. We then all sit down, Edie too, and discuss everything that is going on until a half hour before the sun comes up.  

No great plans are made this evening, other than the fact that Constance wants to speak to the men who were good enough not to go ahead with their plans to bury me at sea so she can try and gather more information on the mysterious man who paid them, and with that the discussion ends. Since Edie confesses she is very tired, she heads up to bed, and I promise to be right there next to her in a few minutes. I spend those minutes whistling out in the back garden for my wolves, who will return home as soon as they hear me. They don't wander too far. It's as I'm waiting that I'm joined by my creator, who looks like she's trying not to laugh.

"Go on, mom. You know you want to," I tell her, putting my arm around her shoulders. I turn to look at her, and then laugh myself when she lets out a massive snort through her nose before dissolving into hysterics.

"I can't believe what you said to Constance, the nerve you had to stand up to her in such a way! Oh, my beautiful boy, you're mine, without a shadow of a doubt you're definitely your mother's son!" she howls while embracing me. I'm glad I could make her laugh, and I'm glad I'm smiling now too, because this whole farce with the TVM has built up to a level where I just cannot idly sit back without doing anything, and I don't care who I have to challenge to make that point clear. I'm just glad my creator understands this as well as she does.

"There's an old bible passage that weighs on my mind at present, Ecclesiastes 3.8, to be precise. 'There is a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace.' Now is the time for war, and my god, we'll give them one." she states, while I nod in agreement. This is war, without a shadow of a doubt, and we will win it. We will.

[lovelywritinglady]

Why? Pt. 2

Hisoka x reader

Hurt, comfort, fluff. Hisoka and you talk about your past relationship.

It’s been four months now since Hisoka broke my heart. My daydreaming has started to slow down and I no longer cry over that man. He’s gone and now I’ve truly come to terms with it. I miss him, but I need to move on. I’m worth more than what he told me I was. I’m strong and I need to remember that. My boss, Kyo, has been nagging me to go out with my co worker Yuji. He’s a sweet man and very considerate, but I think I’m going to focus on myself for awhile. I need to know myself and who I am.

Six months later…

Now it’s been ten months since Hisoka broke my heart. And I can definitely say I’ve completely moved on. My heart is healed and I’ve been able to focus on myself. Last month I moved into a new apartment in a safer part of the city and much closer to the bakery. Moving was so therapeutic for me and peaceful. I haven’t felt that kind of peace in a very long time.

However, I couldn’t help this nagging feeling that I was being watched by someone. I wore it off as me being a little nervous about living in a new place. I checked everywhere and even got a camera to put in my house just in case and fought nothing. So I wore that feeling off as nerves. I’m safe and men like Hisoka won’t hurt me again. But deep down I still feel love for him. Even after all of this time. All I can ask myself is… why?

Two months later…

Third person pov

It has been a full year since Hisoka had left you. A full year since he heard you laugh. A fully year since he felt your touch. A full year since he felt your love. A full year since he broke your heart. He had already taken care of the threat at hand. They are gone and dead. He made sure of that. He even buried them so deep in the ground that if they were dead, they would suffocate before they reached the surface.

That was three months ago. So why hasn’t he come back to you? The threat was gone. And Hisoka still loved you with a fiery passion. Maybe it was because he was scared? Maybe he couldn’t find the words? Maybe he didn’t feel deserving? He didn’t know. What he did know what that he really did love you. Hell, he needed you. And Hisoka has never needed anyone in his life. He’s independent and gets what he wants and who he wants. But he wants you. He’s never truly wanted something more in his life. And he know that if he doesn’t have and love you again then life for him will never be enjoyable again.

Watching you from a safe distance, he saw the way you were smiling at the customers. How sweet you were and he felt jealousy. He knew that if he hadn’t have broken you as he did, you would be in his arms this very second giving him that same enchanting smile.

He then noticed your co worker, Yuji. How he smiled at you. How he looked at you. And Hisoka hated it. He noticed how you smiled at him. And he hated it. His bloodlust began to leak. He couldn’t stop his bubbling rage within him. He couldn’t handle this Tortured any longer. He finally made a decision. To get you back no matter what.

First person pov

I felt a chill run down my spine. It was a familiar chill that only belonged to one person. But I thought that was impossible. He’s gone. And he’s not coming back. He told me that I wasn’t useful to him. That he was bored of me. So why would he be here? The door to the bakery suddenly opened. I turned my head as I normally would and to my despair… there he stood. The man I thought I would never see again… Hisoka Morrow was standing right in front of me.

I froze. He looked the same as he did a year ago. Except he wasn’t wearing his normal outfit. He was sporting a sweatshirt and a pair of black jeans. He hair was down and his make up was removed showing his beautiful pale features. God, I almost forgot how handsome he was. How his piercing golden eyes felt looking in to mine. How sharp his jawline was. How plump his lips were. How soft his skin looked. Hisoka Morrow truly is the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.

I didn’t realize I was crying until I felt his hand touch my cheek and wipe my tear away. I have no idea why, but I let him do it. I missed this feeling. I missed touch. And God his smell. A mixture of fruit and sandalwood. I realized right then and there that no matter what, I would always love him.

Finally I came to my senses. This was the man that shattered my heart and left me to suffer. This was the man that called me useless. This was the man that lied to me for years. Why on earth would I allow him to touch me in the way. He doesn’t get to do that anymore. With that thought, I smacked his hand away and scolded him.

“What the hell are you doing here Hisoka!” I spat

“Flower, I am here to apologize. I’m so sorry for what I did to you. For how I hurt you-“

“I really don’t care how you feel now.” I interrupted.

“You can’t just waltz in here and expect me to forgive you for what you have done. Please go away. I’m working and I don’t have time for you”

“Flower I-“ Hisoka tried to say

“Don’t call me that”

Hisoka took a deep breath. 

“Y/n, please can we at least take this somewhere else. Please I need to tell you this. Even if you don’t forgive me I just need you to know how I truly feel.”

I shouldn’t have have said no, but I felt compelled to say yes. I told Kyo that I needed to take my break early. She was hesitant but understood the importance of the situation at hand. Hisoka and I went to the nearby park. The walk was silent, but somehow not uncomfortable. After five minutes we were at a more secluded place at the park. It was almost romantic and felt like a place he would’ve taken me if the situation was much different.

“Y/n” Hisoka said breaking the silence

“Hisoka” I said in almost a whisper.

Hisoka turned to me and my breath fought in my throat because I saw something that I never knew I would ever see. Hisoka was crying. His eyes were puffy and he had some dried tears on his face.

“Y/n, I am so sorry for the pain I have caused you. I don’t know the extent of it, but I know you were hurt because of my actions. I know I’m not the best man in the world, but I made you a promise and I broke that promise. I’m not trying to condone my actions, but I was threatened. The threat is gone now and honestly they were easier to dispose of than I thought.” Hisoka said laced with pain and sorrow.

“Hisoka why didn’t you tell me any of this? Why, why weren’t you honest with me?” I said eagerly.

“ Because I couldn’t lose you!” Hisoka exclaimed.

“My flower you are the most important thing I have ever had and I truly love you.” Hisoka said as he moved closer to me with tears in both our eyes.

“I said those awful things to try and protect you. I thought that if I had hurt you, that you would forget about me. You would realize how bad I was and find someone you could love. Someone that you would never have to feel unsafe with. I just wanted to protect you and I thought that by me leaving, you would be safe”

“You’re such an idiot Hiso! I love you. I always have. I’ve spent the last year trying to forget about you. I’ve worked on my mental health and did things more for myself. I did do some healing in the process, but you were still on my mind. I couldn’t get you out no matter what I tried.” I said as I reached out and held his face lovingly. 

Hisoka had a shocked expression on his face that was also filled with love.

“Please will you give me another chance to fix the wrongs I have made. I promise that I will never hurt you as I have again. My heart tore knowing what I did to you. And I have always regretted losing you my flower. You don’t have to say anything now, but please consider it.” Hisoka pleated.

“You hurt me so much Hisoka I need some time to think things over.”

“I understand flower I will give you as much time as you need.” Hisoka said lovingly.

One week later…

Maybe I’m stupid or maybe I’ve just made the best decision of my life. But I can’t help the way I feel for him. Knowing what he did out of love for me makes me rethink this past year. I will insist on taking things slow, but I simply cannot stop loving him.

Reaching for my phone, I texted him and asked him to meet at the park like we did a week ago. He responded within a minute and agreed. I was nervous about this. Overthinking about how bad all of this could go again. But I just can’t help my feelings. After a ten minute walk I finally made it to the park where I saw Hisoka standing in the same spot we were in a week ago.

“Hisoka”

Hisoka turned to me and looked at me with an expression full of love. One that I haven’t seen in a long time.

“Flower” he said

“I’ve made my decision.” I said with full confidence.

“I will give you a second chance because I simply cannot help my feelings for you. This might be the dumbest thing I could do, but I’m willing to take that chance. With that said I wanna take things a little slow with you. And build up our relationship again.”

“Thank you, thank you for giving me this chance, flower” Hisoka beamed.

Suddenly he came up to me and embraced me. God, it felt like I was home again. I always did feel so safe in his arms. Breathing him in. Feeling his warmth. I felt so happy in that moment. And honestly I didn’t want to let go. I knew that Hisoka didn’t want to either based on how tight he was hugging me. Everything felt good again. Everything felt truly peaceful. And now I feel as thought I won’t need to ever ask…

Why?

Thank you so much for reading ❤️

•I do NOT own any characters except y/n•

Please feel free to request, comment, and reblog

Click here to see what I’ll write for and HERE for my master list.

-L.W.L

Part 1 / Part 2

[the-bau-quinjet]

Always

Summary: You overhear Steve talking to Bucky about going back to be with Peggy. Rather than confronting the situation, you write him a letter.

Warnings: I cried just thinking about writing this, so much angst, some swearing

Word Count: 3305

a/n: here it is folks: the sad fic I mentioned a few posts ago. Inspired by a multitude of songs from the album Ashlyn by Ashe. I high key recommend listening to that album while you read or just in general. I'm pretending like nobody died in Endgame because that shit is sad and I know this is sad aside from that, but I still have a heart ya know?

Per usual, any song lyrics (or song lyrics that I changed a bit) are in bold! I think used lyrics from Me Without You, Save Myself, I'm Fine, Love is Not Enough, and Always.

Masterlist

"You'd really want to go back?" You overheard Bucky right before you walked into Steve's room.

"I don't know." He let out a deep sigh. "I mean, I do know, but what do you think?" Steve's answer left you wondering what they were discussing.

"All for Peggy?" Your heart stopped waiting for Steve to reply.

Another sigh escaped his lips. You could easily picture him running his hands down his face, a signal he was deep in thought. "I mean, I never got a chance to see what would happen with her. Don't you think she deserves this much?"

You felt frozen. You couldn't hear the rest of Steve's answer or Bucky's reply over the sound of blood rushing through your ears.

It was all too much to handle. Rather than confront the grab bag of emotions swimming inside of you, you turned around and went back to your room in a zombie like haze.

"Friday, don't let anyone in my room."

You know the AI replied, but you were still too caught up in thought to understand it. Your mind was full of questions you knew you couldn't figure out the answers to alone.

Why would Steve want to go back for Peggy when he had you? Why would he even consider it if he loved you like he said he does? Is he still in love with Peggy? Has he been in love with her the whole time? Why would he choose her when he's spent so much more time with you?

"Y/N?" The sound of Steve's voice outside your door startled you. "Y/N, honey, are you in there?"

You could hear the doorknob rattling in his attempt to open it, but Friday was doing as you asked.

"I thought you were going to meet me downstairs?"

His words only broke your heart more, a small sniffle escaping despite your efforts to remain quiet.

"Are you not feeling well? What's wrong?"

His questions were left unanswered, much like the questions swimming around your head.

Steve kept talking to you through the door for a while, but you never replied. You weren't ready to face him, not until you knew you wouldn't say something you'd later regret.

-

The next few days carried on much the same. You refused to leave your room, relying on various snacks and protein bars you had for food. Every few hours, you would try to write down what you were feeling, but it didn't help calm you down the same way it typically did.

Everyone tried talking to you, but nothing worked. Steve spent hours outside your door every day in an effort to get you to talk to him, but you just couldn't figure out your emotions. It was all still too much to handle.

Late one night, Steve said something that forced you into action.

"Y/N, I don't know what happened, but if I did something I'm truly sorry. I'm returning the stones tomorrow. We've never not said goodbye before a mission... I just hope this one is the same."

You listened as he quietly walked back down the hallway, steps slowly receding until you were left in the same absolute silence you've spent the last few days.

You knew you had to talk to him, but hearing him say to your face that he's staying with Peggy would kill you.

You couldn't survive a permanent goodbye, not in your current state of mind.

After a few minutes of silent contemplation, you decided to write Steve a letter. Maybe you'd give it to him or maybe it would just help you organize your thoughts. Either way, it would be helpful to write to someone for a change.

Hi Steve,

I, well, I guess I'll start with this. You deserve an apology. I'm truly sorry for ignoring you for the past few days. I just... I heard what you said to Bucky and I didn't know how to deal with it.

You know I've never been the best at controlling my emotions, so I just holed myself up in here. I avoided you so I could figure out my own feelings first.

I know I should talk to you. You deserve that too, but I don't think I could survive the heartbreak. I guess I'll try to explain everything I've been thinking and feeling since that night.

Honestly, I'm not sure where to start. It feels kind of stupid to say, but I obviously experienced a range of emotions when I first heard you and Bucky talking about going back.

You know I've always found solace in writing, so that's what I'm doing. I needed a way to clear my thoughts, and it turned into this concoction of thoughts and some poems - you know how I feel about poems. (Look at that! A sarcastic comment! I didn't think I was capable of humor anymore.)

This might not surprise you, but the first emotion I clung to was anger. I'm not angry anymore, well at least not as angry. Anyway, I wrote this next part when I was absolutely pissed at you.

-

What the fuck?

You want to go back in time and stay there?

You want to leave me behind?

Steve, what the fuck is wrong with you?

I could keep you here. If I really wanted to, I could figure out a way to do it. I could cut the brakes just to keep you from leaving. I'll do it too. My hands on the wheel would drive us into a wall.

You must think I'm being petty. Hiding in my room like a child to avoid you. All the while, here I am writing all the things I could do to keep you. Well, news flash: I don't need you. You made me think the only world I could exist in, was one you lived in, almost had me fooled.

Here's something you probably never considered, because I sure as shit never thought I'd even need to. I can be me without you. I don't have to rely on you for my own happiness. I thought you loved me, but if you want to go back and be with Peggy, do it. Go find yourself, let me down.

It's easy to sit here now and look back on how everything we had would always be second string to your relationship with her. God damn hindsight's 2020.

I want you to know, you did this to me. You broke my heart. When I heard you say you wanted a chance to be with Peggy, it's like my whole world crumbled down around me.

Everything I thought I knew was ripped out from under me. You poured rain all over my sunny. Yeah, someday, this could all be funny, but right now it's absolute shit.

And maybe everything will work out the way it's meant to be, but honestly I couldn't give less of a shit about that right now.

If I had the chance, I would take it back. Everything. Meeting you. Becoming friends. Dating you. Falling in love. I'd be jumping off your sinking ship, instead of going down with it.

It'd be so much easier that way. If I never fucking knew you.

One day I'll be good. I'll be over all of this bullshit. Right now I'm just mad. And you know what, it's justifiable. I think I'm allowed to be mad at you.

I'm over being so mature. If only I was never yours. Maybe I'll go back in time and undo it all. Then at least I could save myself from you.

-

Like I said, I wrote that in the heat of the moment. Once my brain caught up to my ears, all I saw was red. Anger didn't last as long as you might think though.

All that was how I felt in the moment, but I want you to know it's not true. I don't really believe any of it. I was hurt and angry and avoiding the pain I knew was just around the corner.

I've always told you anger would be my downfall because I just can't control what I say.

Let me be completely clear, I would never want to undo meeting you. You've been the best part of my life for years. I need you to know that I don't regret any of it and I never will.

Anyway, the anger shifted to tears pretty quickly. It wasn't hard to feel the pain that comes with someone you love leaving you. I can't honestly picture a world where I don't love you.

This is the first poem I wrote. With tear blurring my vision, I put pen to paper and this is what came out.

Complicated. Understated. On the way to, Devastated. I'm just holding on for dear life.

Short and sweet, right? Well, not so much sweet, but you get the point. I feel broken. Here's another bit of poetry for ya.

Right now I'm sorry, Burns through me darling, But I can't help hope In thirty years it won't.

Maybe I just need time. That's what everyone always says. "Time can heal all wounds."

It's hard to even think about moving on though when everything reminds me of you. I've got emotional souvenirs from fleeting moments we spent together. If this is the end, I'll always know you were my golden years. I know in the future I could close my eyes and go back there.

Maybe that's the hardest part. Knowing I'll always have these memories.

All I've been thinking about for the past three days is if this will ever feel better. And maybe it will, when time has passed.

Maybe when I'm older, I'll run out of stories about you. Maybe when I'm older, I'll know what it's like not to love you, Anymore.

Despite my best efforts, it's still only a maybe. Maybe when I'm older I'll be able to stop thinking about you every second of the day. Maybe when I'm older I won't feel like crying everytime I see your face.

But maybe not. Maybe I'll always feel this way.

Maybe when I'm six feet, underneath the concrete, I'll know what it's like not to want you, anymore.

I'm not saying all this to make you feel guilty. You don't need to tell me you're sorry. I know you are. I know you would never hurt me like this without a reason.

I should just talk to you, but I don't think I can. Not yet. We don't need to talk til we're ready. Both of us.

I guess I do have one question. Do you really love me?

I don't think I want to know the answer right now. Because even if you do... it takes a lot more than a rose, more than a kiss, more than a heart to truly love someone and spend forever with them.

It takes a lot more than a ring, more than a vow, more than a promise to build and maintain a relationship.

Love is not enough. I know that now. Even if you love me to the best of your abilities, you could still love Peggy more. Love may not be enough for us, but at least we got that much.

If you leave, I'll live the rest of my life grateful that at least I got your touch for as long as I did.

I used to think we could take our sweet time, that everything would be just fine. But now I know maybe not.

I cried for days. Like I said, I'm not writing this to make you feel guilty though. I just want to be completely honest. I cried a lot, probably more than I ever have before.

I kept replaying memories of time I spent with you. Not even dates, just the small moments that made me know I love you.

Like that day I woke up too early, almost put salt in my coffee. Oh I thank God that you stopped me before that.

I've never been a morning person, but ever since I met you you've always been there to keep my head on straight.

I think the thing I love most about you is how you can read me better than anyone I've ever known. I can hide from everyone else and they won't bat an eye. They never can tell when I'm falling apart on the inside.

No matter how hard I try to hide it though, you don't believe me when I say I'm alright. You can always, always tell.

It's like you've got a sixth sense that tells you I need you when I try to say I'm fine.

Before I met you, I would get so lonely everyday. Now I'm only lonely until you ask if I'm okay and then I remember that I have people who are there for me. I have you.

All this to say, I love you, Steve. I love you more than I've ever loved another human being.

Forever yours,

Y/N

-

It took you nearly all night to write a coherent letter and come up with a plan to talk to Steve. A quick glance at the clock let you know Steve would be up any minute, so you had to act fast.

You opened your door for the first time in days, running in a full sprint to the stairs and down the hall to Steve's door.

With one final burst of courage, you shoved the letter under the door and ran away before anyone could find you out of your room.

-

"Y/N?" A familiar knock on your door woke you from a restless sleep. "I read your letter, Y/N please let me explain."

It felt like time slowed down as you stared at the door.

"Y/N, I have to bring the stones back, but I really want to talk to you first."

"Come in." You steadied yourself with a deep breath, but one look at Steve ruined your flimsy resolve.

"Y/N... I tried to wait for you to come to me, but..."

He stopped talking when you shook your head, a painful sob forming in your chest.

"I've been thinking a lot." You started slowly, voice scratchy from days of not being used except to cry. "What if staying with me isn't the best thing to keep you happy?"

"Y/N, I-"

"Please let me finish." You waited for him to acknowledge your words before you spoke again.

"If letting you go is the best way to show that I love you, I will." Tears poured down your cheeks, breaths coming to you shakily.

"Captain Rogers, your presence is requested in the backyard." Friday's voice echoed through the room.

Steve looked more torn than you've ever seen him.

"Let's go." You nodded toward the door. "I've got more to say, but you've got somewhere to be."

Slowly, the two of you walked down the hall and entered the elevator.

"I don't know if you'll ever come back-"

"Y/N, really just let me-"

"Steve, please." You begged him to let you get it all out. "I won't ask 'cause that's selfish."

"It's not." He cut in again.

"It is. You deserve to be as happy as possible." With a slow, shaky breath you continued your speech. "I've come to terms I might never feel whole again."

The elevator doors slid open. You followed Steve to the yard where they set up the time machine.

"I'll be broken when you're gone, but I won't hold you back if it's wrong."

"Steve, there you are! Let's go-"

"In a minute, Sam." Steve's eyes never left you, remaining soft and caring. "We can go back inside if you want." He ran his thumbs over your cheeks, ridding them of tears only to be instantly replaced. You've always hated crying in front of people.

"I don't care what people say." You shook your head, ignoring the potential pitying looks you could receive for crying in front of others. Another deep breath, and you continued. "You know I won't force you to stay."

It was your turn to wipe tears from Steve's face.

"If you leave, I'll be okay. Just promise that you won't forget me babe."

"I could never-" He cut in again only to stop when you gave him a pleading look.

"I understand if leaving is what you have to do. I don't want you to go, but I'll be okay, eventually." You let out a watery chuckle, wiping your eyes again.

"Y/N, I never meant for-"

"Steve, you ready?" Sam interrupted again.

"It's fine. You can go." You did your best to hold back any lingering tears. You had to physically turn Steve around yourself and push him towards the machine.

"Y/N, please, I can't-"

"Steve, they're waiting for you. It's okay, I promise." He finally started to walk away only to pause when you called out one more thing. "Oh, Steve?"

"Yeah?" He wore a solemn smile.

"I'll love you always."

You watched as he listened to Banner's instructions and bid farewell to Sam and Bucky. The bitter part of you wondered if Sam knew.

A strangled sob left your mouth as soon as Steve disappeared. All three men standing around the machine looked your way, Sam and Bucky running toward you to help.

"He should be back any second. It's fine!" Sam desperately tried to console you, but you knew it wouldn't work.

"Y/N. Y/N! Listen to me. Did Steve talk to you?" Bucky asked, ignoring Sam's bewildered expression.

You nodded pitifully.

"Did he explain-" You cut him off.

"He- he didn't ha-have time.: You stuttered as you tried desperately to gulp in air through the tears. "I did most of the talking. I needed him to know it was okay."

"To know what was okay?" Sam asked, still clearly confused.

The thought of explaining it only broke you down more. You would have fallen to the ground if not for Bucky catching you. Your body leaned into his.

"Doll..." Bucky shook his head. "You should have let him explain."

You choked on another sob just thinking about it.

"Shh, it's okay. You'll be okay." Bucky whispered in your ear, ignoring Sam's confused glares.

"Y/N..." The sound of Steve's voice echoed in your ears causing another painful sob to jolt through your body.

"Baby, please look at me."

You genuinely thought you were hallucinating when you opened your eyes to see Steve towering over you.

"Steve?" Your voice was barely a whisper.

"It's me, I'm here." He gently took you from Bucky's arms, cradling you close to him but leaning his head far enough away for you to look into your eyes.

"You came back..." Your tears slowed, gently falling down your cheeks as you stared at him wide-eyed.

"I was never planning to leave." He spoke while gently stroking your hair.

"B-but, you were talking to Bucky about going back?" Your tears gave way to confusion as you glanced between him and Bucky.

"Just to say goodbye." He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, breathing in your scent. "I just thought she deserved a real goodbye."

New tears pooled in your eyes as you took in his words. "So, you never wanted to leave me?"

"I could never, and would never, leave you. I love you so much. I just wish I knew why you were holed up in your room sooner." He smiled at you, the same adoring smile he gave you the first time you met.

"I love you too. Always." You leaned into his embrace, relishing in the touch you thought you'd lost forever. He whispered his reply, clinging to you just as much as you were to him.

"Always."

a/n: today I discovered I am truly incapable of writing a sad ending. I just like the idea of escaping to a reality where Steve would never abandon me.

Permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner

@jesuswasnotawhiteman

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[nyxerebus]

Unlikely Companions (Daryl Dixon x Female reader/ PLATONIC! Carl x Reader)

Summary: Carl was running for his life, being chased by walkers after he went on his own looking for Sophia. When he is corned by the walker a stranger woman saves him. She is looking for her Fiancee for the old world, but offers her help returning him to the farm. They bond over the days in the woods and she learns she might have another reason to find the farm.

Words: 3.1 k

“Carl?” Lori shouted across the farm. She hadn’t seen the boy all day and was starting to get nervous. “Have you seen Carl?” Maggie shook her head. “Not since breakfast” She answered in her southern accent. “Maybe he is with Rick? Or Shane?” Lori just nodded, but didn’t feel any safer. Where was her son?

Carl was running for his life. The two walkers were closing inn. He knew better than to shout and call for help, knowing it would probably attract even more walkers, but right now he didn’t care. “MOM!” He quickened his pace. “DAD!” Two walkers turned into four as two more appeared at his side. Tears was now streaming down his face as he was sure he was going to die here. He looked back again, ready to face death. But the walkers didn’t close inn on him. Instead arrow after arrow filled the air and all the walkers dropped. When Carl turned back around, fully expecting to see Daryl standing there, was surprised to see a stranger. “Are you okay?” The stranger asked him. Carl looked up at the woman. He was inn shock and didn’t know what to say. “You got a group? A family” She continued to ask him. When she tried to approach him, he backed up. “Hey, you don’t need to worry, I won’t do you any harm. Look” She dropped her cross bow and unleased her knife from her holster. When both fell to the ground, she could see him relaxing more. “Can I ask your name?”

“Carl, Carl Grimes”

“Well, Carl Grimes. I’m (Y/N) (L/N). I’m looking for my fiancée. But I can help you return back to you family. Someone as young as you shouldn’t be out here alone”.

Carl was still unsure about her. Remembering her mother’s speech about stranger danger. But those were the rules of the old world. Here in the new world they should accept help form anyone who invites it, right? After thinking it through, he nodded. “Okay, okay. This is a good start. How far away is your camp?” Carl looked down, a bit embarrassed. “I don’t know”

“Do you know the directions?” He shook his head. “Well shit, looks like were in quiet a pickle huh?” She smiled at him, trying to ease him. “I don’t know this area, never been here before. So, I say we head in one direction and hope for the best. What do you think?” He nodded. “Great! Lets go then!”

And so they started to wander. (Y/N) in front, with Carl a meter behind. “Sooo, do you have a favourite movie or something?” He just stared at her. “What! Come on, were going to be stuck with each other for a while, might as well get to know each other”. After a minute of silence, he spoke. “Iron Man”

“That’s a good movie! Mine is probably that or Pride and Prejudice”. Carl scrunched up his nose almost in disgust. “But that’s so girly! All they do is talk about their feelings and kiss!” She looked back at him, offended by his remarks. “And!? It’s a great love story that is still relevant to this day” She played up her offence more hoping it would make him laugh. It did. “Its still so girly” He said between giggles. “Never mind, were is the nearest walker. I’m feeding you to it” (Y/N)’s giggling was now a full on laughter. “Nooo!” Carl was laughing too. (Y/N) was relieved he was laughing, afraid the incident had traumatized him badly.

Back at the farm, panic was settling inn as no one knew were Carl was. “Who was the last to see him?” Rick asked the group. “I saw him after breakfast” Andrea spoke up, she and Carol was comforting Lori, who was having a full blown break down. “He probably went out looking for Sophia alone” All looked to Shane. “I’m mean why else would he suddenly leave”.

“I think your right, but he is still healing from the gun wound, he wouldn’t get far. And if a walker got him, he wouldn’t have much fight in him”.

“My baby!” Lori cried out in agony. “We need to send out search groups, he couldn’t have gone far”. Everyone agreed with Rick. “And with some luck we might find Sophia as well” Daryl nodded at Carol. She smiled back.

The sun had set and the night was creeping closer. (Y/N) had set up an alert system around the small camp they built for the night. Barb wire around them with empty cans tied up. They would rattle if a walker came close and waking them up. It was how (Y/N) had been sleeping every night.

“Go to sleep, I’ll look out for walkers” (Y/N) said leaned back against a tree. She had laid down her sleeping bag that he could use. “I wont fall asleep” Carl complained. “Try”.

“Can you tell me a story” She looked at him weird. “Aren’t you a bit old for fairy tales?”

“Not fairy tales, stories about your life, from before this?” She still looked at him weirdly. “My mom used to tell me stories from her collage days so I could fall asleep when I was younger. Can you please?” When he looked at her with those poppy eyes, (even though it was hard to see with only their small campfire as a light source), who could say no?

“Okay kid, one story than you go to sleep. Deal?” He nodded “What do you want to know?”

“You are engaged right, how was the proposal?” She giggled at the memory but started to tell about the best day of her life:

“Daryl! What are we doing here?” She was a bit frustrated as the redneck pulled her along the streets. It was midday and pretty damn hot. She pulled down her dress skirt as the wind picked up. “Have some patience’ damn woman” She giggled at his bruteness. One of the things she loved about the man, one of many. When they stopped in front of a new bookshop, he could see the hearts in her eyes. “I dint know they opened a new bookshop here!” She exclaimed. “Saw it last night and thought you might like it” Lies. He had known they were opening here for the past month, doing everything in his power to make sure you dint know. They actually had opening night a week ago.

Now it was her turn to drag him along. It surprised her to see the shop empty, seeing as the streets were pretty full. But she didn’t think much of it. Running between shelves after shelves, the one book in hand turning into two, than four and now finally six books. But when she turned around, all the books fell too the floor. Because there before her was her lovely boyfriend, down on one knee with a ring between his fingers. “Oh my god” She whispered into the silent shop. As if on cue, the speakers played her favourite song.

“(Y/N) (L/N), you are the love of my life. And I just want to be your man’ for the rest of your life. And, shit you know I aint’ good with my emotions, but when I’m with ya’ it seems so easy. Shit, I’m messing it all up” He was stumbling over his own words, clearly forgetting a pre-rehearsed speech. “no, please continue” tears were forming in her eyes. “I love ya’ (Y/N), my Sunshine. You book crazy mad woman. I love everything about ya’. So, will ya’ marry me?” He was ready for a rejection, ready to see her walk out of his life forever. But she didn’t.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, a million times yes” Tears were streaming down her face. He stood up and kissed her. His arm wrapping around her waist, bending her down a bit so he could kiss her more passionately. Like in the movies. They only broke off so he could slip the ring on her finger, it fit her perfectly.

“Did he rent out the bookshop?” Carl asked, clearly very invested. “Yeah, cost him way too much, but he didn’t care. That idiot was never good with money” She giggled at the memories. “What about after, what did you guys do?”

“Nah nah nah, the deal was one story than you go to sleep. I can tell you more tomorrow”. Carl huffed in annoyance but turned around in the sleeping bag. “Good night”

“Good night Carl”.

“Rick, it’s been a whole night! Where is he?” Lori was completely lost; she hadn’t slept all night. To worried about where her son was. “What if his trapped, oh god! What if those walkers got him?”

“We can’t think like that! He is fine. He has to be” Rick did everything he could to try and look confident and comfort his wife, but the worry was eating him up as well. The same thoughts were running through his head as well. Those terrible images of his baby boy being ripped apart by the walkers.

“Okay, open your mouth” Carl did as instruct and tried to catch the berry she threw into his mouth. She missed, but only with an inch! “You suck!” Carl teased her. “Hey! I’m not the one with a tiny mouth!” She teased back. “Alright, lets start walking big man”. He nodded and helped her clean up the camp. “Can I ask a question?” The boy asked as they continued to walk. “Sure”

“What happened between you and your fiancée? Why aren’t you together now?”

She took a deep breath. “When the outbreak happened, we weren’t together. He was off god know where with his brother, probably bailing him out or something-” Carl looked at her questioning, “That’s another story. But yeah, we weren’t together. I was at campus and that turned into a mess, I lots a lot of friends there. Mass panic and everybody evacuated. I and a couple of other students bunkered up a dorm room. Living of the instant noodles and beer we found. That lasted maybe 4 days. So, we left and split off, I wanted to go into the woods, where he would be and the rest wanted to go to back to Atlanta. And since than I have been looking for him. Living in the woods like a mad man.” Tears started to form in her eyes when she relived the horrible times at the campus.

“Sorry I asked”. He looked down. “Its alright” She smiled at him. “What were you studying?”

“Heh, literature. Not much help in the apocalypse, I guess”.

“Than how did you learn to use the bow and hunt?”

“He taught me” She smiled at the memory, and thanked him desperately for teaching her:

“Why do I need to learn this? I live in the city, I will never hunt or live in the woods!” Daryl just scuffed at her and placed the bow he bought in her hands. He had brought her out to the woods after her classes to teach her hunting. “ya’ need to be able to fend for yourself and feed yourself” She just looked him with a raise brow, but eventually gave in. “Fine, fine. Teach me”. A smirk played out on his face, happy with his little victory. Truth be told, he needed to know that you could fend for yourself and be independent, in and out of the city. It eased him at night, in a weird way. “Why cant I learn the crossbow like you?”

“First bow, than crossbow. Alright Sunshine’”

Shoooo! The arrow flew through the air and hit the squirl in the head. “Score!” (Y/N) exclaimed. She fastened the squirrel two her belt, joining the five others she had shot. “We eating good tonight!” Carl looked at the squirrels with a lot of scepticisms. “What? Don’t tell me you’re a picky eater”

“No, it just looks so weird like that” They bickered back and front while they walked in the direction, they thought the farm was inn. They had changed their direction a couple of times, hoping to get closer and see sign of life.

They had spent the entire day walking, and as the night came closer they found a spot to camp up. Carl set up the wires while (Y/N) started a fire to cook the squirrels. While they ate, Carl told her about his family and the people they were in the camp with. “What the hell! You got shot?!”

“Yeah!” Carl had a proud grin on his face, finally having something that made him look cool. “Shit, man your tougher than me if you can bounce back like that”. He laughed and continued to brag about the experience. It was a nice conversation. He talked a bunch about his family, mostly about his dad. Clearly his hero. But than he mentioned a familiar name.

“Wait! Daryl? Daryl with a crossbow?” Carl just nodded. “Does he have a west with angel wings? Brother named Merle?” When Carl nodded again. Tears started to from in her eyes. She was going to be reunited with Daryl, her Daryl. He was alive. That night when Carl finally fell asleep, her mind wandered to all the amazing memories with the man.

It was cold in the room. The window was wide open and letting the moonshine lighting up the small bedroom. (Y/N) and Daryl was huddled together for warmth on the bed. It had been an long night. From a failed date after the place Daryl wanted to take her to was closed, she got catcalled which ended up with her having to drag Daryl of the stranger. And when they got home, he showed her his scars. She was the first romantic partner he had ever shown. The night ended with their naked, sweaty bodies pressed together, while both worked to please the other. It was their first night together, her first night with anyone. When they lied down together basking in the aftermath of their climax, it was one of the happiest times in her life. He wrapped his arms around her and puller her on top of him. Her head resting on his chest, with his arms wrapped around her, caressing her back with one hand, the other squeezing her thigh. “I love ya Sunshine”.

“(Y/N)!”

“(Y/N)! Wake up!” Carl shook her awake. “What’s happening” She immediately reached for her bow and charged it ahead of her, ready to attack any enemy that threatened them. “I can see the farm!” The night had made it harder to see a head of them, but now that the sun was lighting up the world, they could see the farm a head of them. (Y/N) realised her bow and the breath she was holding. They packed up the camp at record time, both wanting to reach the farm as quickly as possible. The walk over to the farm was quiet. When they reached the outcast of the woods, a voice stopped them from going any further.

“Well, well, well, look at that. Do you guys see this fine piece of ass” A man walked out from behind a tree with a gun raised at them both. Three other guys came out, all with their weapons raised. “Sure do boss. Haven’t seen a woman this fine in what feels like ages. I’m just aching to be inside of her”.

(Y/N) placed herself protectively in front of Carl. “What do you guys want? Our food, weapons? You can have that, just leave us alone” Her voice trembled a little afraid of what they will do to them. “Oh, we don’t need your left overs or those teeth pickers you call knifes, no baby. We want something different” He grabbed his crotch when he said the last part. “Carl, run”.

“What? I cant leave-” “Carl! Run!” One of the guys tackled her down. Holding her down on the ground. “Get the kid” The boss said to the guy closest to Carl. “RUN!” She shouted before her mouth was covered. Carl finally ran away, when the guy ordered to catch him started to run after him.

When he made it out of the forest and ran across the fields to the farm, he started to shout out for help. “MOM! DAD!”.

“Do you guys hear that?” Glenn asked the group as they sat around planning the move for the day. “That’s Carl” Lori ran towards the field and saw her son running across it being chased by a stranger.

“Carl!” All the guys saw it too and started to run to Carl. The guy chasing him, saw the men running towards him and turned around to warn the others. “Carl!” Rick finally got to hug his son after being missing for 3 days. But the hug was cut short when Carl pushed free. “We need to head back, (Y/N), the girl that helped me is back there and the guys are attacking her!” He pulled his fathers hand and started to move back to the woods, but Daryl stopped him.

“(Y/N), as in (Y/N) (L/N)?” When Carl nodded Daryl took off and ran towards the forest. The others followed, but this time Carl was pushed back behind them. When they got closer they could hear her voice yelling for them to get off. They reached the area Daryl did not hesitate to shoot the guys around her, holding her down while the main guy was cutting up her clothes. When she got her hands free, she leaped on the last guy and grabbed her knife they had forgotten to remove from her belt. When he was pushed to the ground she didn’t hesitate to stab him in the chest. She didn’t stop after one, two three or four. Blood splashed on her face and torned shirt. Her hands were covered in blood.

Rick took a step forward, but stepped on a twig that snaped in two. She leaped up and raised the knife up, ready to protect herself against another attacker. But when she saw Daryl standing there, she dropped the knife. Sobs wracked through her body and she took a stumbling step forward. Daryl closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her waist. He didn’t care that she was covered in blood, just happy that she was safe. She was alive.

Her knees buckled and she fell down, taking him with her. They were both on their knees holding each other and crying into each other’s necks. Right now, nobody else mattered. Not Rick, Glenn or Shane who was staring at the scene in front of them. Not the bodies of her attackers lying around them. No one. Only them as they held each other for the first time. It seemed as Carl had led her back to her family just as much as she had helped him back to his.

A/N: Part 2 is out! You can read it here : Part 2

Please ignore any spelling mistakes as English is not my first language :) 

[lumosinlove]

Vaincre

part iii

cw: brief, non-graphic mention of injury and medical assistance

~

September

Only blue talk and love

Remember

How we knew love was here to stay

Summer hadn’t truly felt over until Remus saw Regulus standing in the airport, bags checked for New York and backpack slung over one shoulder.

“Well,” Regulus said, shifting a little between his feet. “Here goes.”

Remus laughed. “It’s going to be amazing, Reg.”

“Maybe. Hopefully.”

“It will,” Sirius said. “But if you need anything we’re…what? A four hour drive?”

Remus nodded. “Yeah, you can call.”

Regulus huffed out a laugh. “You two sound like worried parents.”

Sirius laughed, too. “I’m just glad we know what those sound like now.”

Regulus’ expression shifted, tightening. He nodded, seemed to hang in hesitation for a moment, and then walked forward two steps and threw his arms around Sirius. Sirius froze, too, with his hands in his pockets, and then wrapped his little brother up tight.

“It’s not your fault, you know,” Remus heard Regulus murmur softly. “I don’t really think you left me there. With them.”

Sirius made an indistinguishable sound, and Remus took a step back, giving them space and not sure if he was fighting tears or a smile. He used to just think about how he could kill Sirius and Regulus’ parents if he had the chance, but now, seeing how far the brothers had come, he wasn’t sure they were worth the time at all.

“Come home sometimes, okay?” Sirius said. “D’accord?”

“Ouais,” Regulus said.

They pulled apart slowly, both a little bright-eyed. Sirius laughed wetly, wiping his face.

“And make good friends.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow. “I think that’s supposed to be good choices.”

Sirius reached out for Remus’ hand. “Good friends are good choices.”

“Ah,” Regulus hitched his pack farther up his shoulder. “Of course.”

“Call when you get there, too,” Remus cut in. “My mom would definitely want me to say that.”

Regulus waved them off. “Okay, that’s enough parenting. I’m going now.”

Sirius held Remus’ hand tight as they watched Regulus go through security and then disappear with a wave, sliding his headphones on. He let out a long, unsteady breath.

“Merde.”

“Love ya,” Remus smiled, reaching up to wipe a tear from Sirius’ cheek.

Sirius glanced down at him. “He’s going to be fine.”

“He is,” Remus nodded.

“He forgives me.”

“No,” Remus said. “He told you that you never did anything wrong.”

Sirius let out another tearful laugh, sniffing. “Right. You’re right.”

Remus pushed up on his toes to kiss his cheek. “Wanna get dinner?”

“Ouais. That sounds perfect.”

They wandered the summer soft streets, cooled by the evening and by approaching September. Remus was torn between being ready to let summer go, and never wanting it to end at the same time.

~

It’s good to hear a packed Hogwarts Stadium again, huh, Dean? Even if just for a preseason game against our New York Rangers neighbors.

Right, Lee? I love this post-summer feeling, and I know our Lions do, too. Especially excited to see what our new talent has to offer. This’ll be fan’s first glimpse at Lupin and Reyes, our two…well, I suppose rookie wouldn’t be quite as perfect a word for Lupin as it is for Reyes. We’re used to Lupin’s face around here, huh.

That we are. Not used to seeing what is rumored to be some very quick feet on him, though. As far as testing went, that is.

Right, the bike test. As well as strength. Who knows. This could be building up to a very interesting season.

Remus stared up at the TV mounted on the wall as he peddled slowly on the stationary bike, keeping his legs warm. He felt bizarre, and had been dodging any type of media to avoid having to talk about it. He was dreading post-game. Every time he tried to think of something to say, his mind went blank.

I’m happy to be here.

I never thought I would be here.

The other half of his brain was trying to compute that it wouldn’t just be the preseason, practice scrimmages he was used to. It wouldn’t just been his team, his friends, out there. Not that it would be a full fledged game, either. No one looked to crushing blows during a preseason game. It was about getting warm. Remus was thankful for it. He didn’t know how he was going to feel when he put his jersey on. When he stepped out onto the ice. He had been nervous enough for the fitness testing.

“You’re literally the fastest guy here,” Finn had said after he’d gotten off of the bike—with the highest score. It had made him feel better, but he knew he wouldn’t really be settled until until coach called his name from the line card.

“Loops,” Logan said, swinging onto the bike beside him. “I keep running into you.”

Remus smiled. “Looks like we having similar warm-up routines.”

“Apparemment,” Logan nodded, turning up the resistance. “Nervous?”

Remus nodded. “Yeah. I am.”

Logan nodded, but stayed quiet and Remus was thankful. Everyone tried to talk him out of it, Sirius included, and he loved them for that, but at the same time, this was nice, too.

“Me too, sort of,” Logan said, and they traded a smile before looking back up at the Gryffindor pre-game show.

“All right,” Coach Arthur Weasley clapped his hands and gestured to the side of the room where the assistant coaches and staff were standing. The whole locker room was flooded with energy of all kinds—nervous, excited—and it flowed through those not in uniform, too. “We all know Moody. We all know our coaches. Mason, Alexandra, and Dan. We all know our PTs—should I say new PTs—“ there were some laughs. “Lars and Layla.”

“Double-Ls,” Thomas whooped.

Layla gave two thumbs up, and Lars remained stoic, arms crossed. He hadn’t said much since arriving aside from the occasional wise-cracking joke delivered without a trace of a smile.

“Who’s captain serious now, eh?” Thomas leaned in to whisper, and Remus suppressed a smile, glancing at Sirius—who was wearing an almost equally focused expression on his face, completely still where he sat a few stalls down, past Thomas and James. Remus glanced around the locker room, down the crescent-shaped row. Kasey and Leo, on opposite ends, were both geared up. Finn and Leo were sharing AirPods. Remus knew Kasey had worked hard over the summer, rehabbing his thigh, strengthening and increasing flexibility. He knew Leo was happy to be his back-up, but part of him wondered what Leo thought about all the games he had played in the play-offs, only to be placed right back on the bench now. It happened to a lot of guys—some were called up for injury, only to be sent right back down to the farm team when injuries healed. But Remus thought it was different for goalies. He hoped Coach wouldn’t leave Leo sitting on the bench for too long.

“Who’s calling first line?” Coach asked, and held the card out to Sirius. “Cap?”

Remus didn’t realize until the cheers broke out that he could be loud with the rest of them, and gave his stall a few bangs as Sirius rose, hat keeping his hair back. His eyes found Remus’ briefly once had turned towards them with the card, and Remus’ breath caught at his beaming grin.

“Okay, boys, first line,” Sirius said. “We’ve got Pots.”

Clap.

“Tremzy.”

Thomas drum-rolled his stall.

Sirius smiled. “Myself.”

Finn put two fingers in his mouth and whistled.

“And on D, Olli and Timmy.”

While the boys burst into chatter again, Remus watched Sirius hand the card back to Coach, and caught his eye again, raising an eyebrow. Sirius held up Thomas’ number, and Jackson’s. Remus nodded to himself. That could be the third or fourth line, and he’d played well with both of them in scrimmages. It made sense. He could work with that.

And it meant he’d get to watch Sirius out there. At least that wouldn’t change.

“All right,” Coach laughed, putting his glasses back on and turning towards the other coaches. “Get dressed, get dressed.”

Remus had sat in his stall quite a few times by now. For his promo-pictures at the beginning of the summer—the first time he had slipped his jersey on, too, right over his suit and tie. But sitting in it now, strapping his pads over his bare chest before a game, a game where he would be up against other NHL players…that was different.

“You’re one of those?” Thomas snorted, flicking Remus’ bare ribs. “Doesn’t the velcro scratch?”

Remus laughed. “Can’t break old habits.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow. “Or is now the perfect time to make new ones.”

“Not after a year like the last,” Remus said.

“Oh,” Thomas whistled, yanking the laces of his skates tight. “You’re that superstitious.”

“I try not to be,” Remus stood. “But playing again…seems to bring it out in me.”

Remus turned to step into his pants, adjusting the pads and his jock until everything fit together comfortably. He eyed his jersey, the number six hanging proudly on a hanger, and he smiled to himself but turned to his skates next. The jersey sent his heart leaping into his throat. He’d save it for last.

“Let’s go boys,” Pascal called, standing by the door to bump fists and pat helmets on their way out.

Remus laced up his skates, pulling them tight over his taped up socks, and then, finally, removed his jersey from its hook. He didn’t waste time staring down at it. That would just make him overthink and, hopefully, he’d have many times to put this jersey on again.

It slid over his shoulder pads, he tucked in the back, and grabbed his helmet.

“I like that Loops is just over there grinning to himself,” Finn snorted as he left for the tunnel.

Remus shrugged, eyes finding Sirius. He already looked like his mind was on the ice, even for such a low stakes game.

“You know,” Remus said as the team started to file down the tunnel. “I used to go last.”

Sirius’ intense eyes lightened into a softer gray. He shifted from one skate to another. “Oh? I don’t know if I knew that.”

Remus tilted his head, smile playing at one corner of his mouth. “Well? What are we gonna do?”

Sirius just stared at him. “I… I go last.”

Remus let out his laughter, leaning up to tap their helmets together. He vaguely heard a camera flash go off, and smiled. He wanted that picture.

“You should have seen your face, baby,” he whispered, and grabbed his stick from the rack before catching up to James.

He heard Sirius splutter out a laugh—and there was definitely some relief in there—and follow.

The sounds of the crowd in Hogwarts stadium only grew louder. Remus could feel Sirius close behind him.

“Ready, mon loup?” he asked quietly, just before the tunnel opened up to the lights.

Remus didn’t know if Sirius heard his yes over the roar of the team’s entry into a sea of red and gold, but then feet were on the ice he was doing a lap, the Rangers at the other end.

On opening night, Remus knew he would be taking this lap alone, along with Cole. A rookie’s first official NHL game. It felt surreal to think about. He couldn’t knock the feeling that he was too old for that—but he knew plenty of guys did it at his age. You didn’t have to be eighteen.

He picked up a puck and headed towards the goal, trying to decide if it would help to block out the noise, or let it overtake him. The boys were dialed in. Remus glanced over at Sirius, feeling strangely bare without him by his side. But he was over by center ice, tracing the Lion printed there—as usual. Remus didn’t want to seem favored. He didn’t want to seem clingy. They weren’t a couple out here, he knew that. They were teammates.

He shot at Kasey, who caught his puck in his glove, and began the wrap-around again before pushing backwards around the outside of the goal, as he always used to. He’d done his routine a few times at the beginning of practices, but it was nothing compared to being surrounded by a crowd—a bigger crowd than he’d ever actually played in front of before.

Kasey tapped a puck at him once he reached his first post, and he laughed, shooting it back until a sign waving at the glass caught his eye. It was held by a kid, maybe around Julian’s age.

I want a signed stick the ReMOST, Lupin!

Remus laughed at the kid’s wide eyes when he saw that he was looking, and gave him a thumbs up the best he could with his gloves on before holding up his stick.

“One second,” he called over the crowd.

When he got to the bench, Sirius was there stretching, holding out an already uncapped sharpie.

And looks like Lupin’s heading over to sign that young man a stick. I bet that’s a good feeling after—oh! Black’s got a pen ready for him.

Remus shoved a glove under his arm and took it. “You saw the sign?”

“I got the kid down to the glass,” Sirius grinned.

“I love you,” Remus said as he scribbled his signature, complete with the jersey number that players always included.

It took two tries to get the stick successfully over the glass, but for the look on the boy’s face, Remus would have tried twenty.

“Feels good, eh?” James said once the horn blew for warmups and they were settled onto the bench.

“Too good,” Remus said.

“First line,” Coach called, slapping his calling card against his palm. “12, 10, 7, let’s go. Olli, Tims, on D.”

Sirius sent him a quick smile, and Remus spun his stick in front of him. “Let’s go, Captain.”

Sirius snorted, rolling his eyes as he pushed away from the boards towards center ice, where Zibanejad was waiting.

Good to see that sort of…what would you call it, Dean, from Black?

Light energy, I think, Lee. Sirius is well known around the league for his intensity.

Right. Nice to see Lupin getting a smile out of him before what is most probably a season that holds more pressure than usual for the Lions, after a Cup year.

One of Black’s coaches once said in an interview that the only thing Sirius feels after scoring a goal is pressure to score another. Ha, sounds about right.

Remus all but held his breath when the ref dropped the puck. Sirius stole it back for James who nicked it over to Logan. Logan sped it into the neutral zone, narrowly avoiding Lafrenière.

“Bulky kid,” Finn said from beside Remus.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Logan?”

“Well—yeah, but nah, Lafrenière,” Finn nodded. “Built like a tree, what is he, nineteen? Crazy. I didn’t look like that when I was nineteen.”

“Well,” Remus said as the whistle blew for an icing on the Rangers. “People are comparing him to Crosby.”

“Kuny,” Coach called. “Lupin, Nado.”

Remus’ initial thought was surprise. The shock of being put out with the second line carried him somewhat numbly over the boards beside Evgeni and Jackson. He didn’t have time to look at Sirius take his place on the bench.

“Hey,” Evgeni said, drawing them in with a glove over his mouth so the Rangers filing out of their bench couldn’t read their lips. “I take Lindgren. Loops, go fast, okay? Nado get you puck.”

“Fox,” Jackson warned.

“Sergei take care,” Evgeni said like it was obvious, and loomed towards the face-off circle.

“Left side,” Remus said to Jackson before they parted. “I’ll try to shake Kravtsov.”

“Nice,” Jackson nodded.

Remus and Kravtsov shared a nod as they lined up shoulder to shoulder on the centerline.

“Welcome to the NHL,” Kravtsov said with a slight smile.

“Thanks,” Remus replied.

Kravtsov was so young. All of these guys were so young.

He couldn’t help feeling like time had been stolen from him.

Have you ever seen this many Russian players in one NHL game, Dean? Pretty nice to see. And here’s Lupin’s first shift. Let’s go.

The puck dropped and Remus gave Kravtsov a shove, spinning out and around him. His heart seemed to press the sound out of his ears until all he could hear was his own breathing. Evgeni won the face off.

“Kuns!” Jackson shouted, and Evgeni passed it to him deep in their own zone. It drew Fox forward, just as Remus knew it was meant to, but Sergei was there for Jackson to derail the puck. Fox was forced to turn around, Kravtsov was made to press forward for a pass, and it left Remus free to shoot into their defense zone. Strome tried to cross him, but Remus spun around him. Sergei and Jackson tried to get it to him, but it left the zone. Remus swore as he pushed hard to touch up the neutral zone.

“6, 58, 86, off, Reyes, O’Hara, LeBlanc, on!”

Remus pulled back to the bench, sending Cole a nod as he hopped over the boards for his first NHL shift. Remus’ shift had been thirty seconds that felt like ten, but he was breathing hard. Finn followed Cole with a tap to his back, promptly stole the puck from Chytil, and slapped it into the corner of the Rangers’ goal.

Remus had barely taken a drink of water when the goal horn blared Gryffindor’s roar filled Hogwarts Stadium.

He punched Sirius’ side, who had his arms raised. Sirius laughed from beside him as they settled onto the bench beside each other.

“Ouch,” Sirius rubbed his padding.

“I don’t know, I got excited,” Remus laughed.

They held his gloves out for Finn to tap as he came down the line, the goal song blaring, the crowd chanting along to the catchy drumbeat.

“Nice solo, Harz,” Remus called, and Finn grinned.

“Thanks, Rookie.”

It remained pretty even through the first and second. Panarin had three good chances, the fourth sailing past Kasey’s glove. Sirius scored a dirty wrap-around just before the second’s buzzer, and Remus didn’t think he’d ever like anything more than getting the full force of Sirius’ smile as he tapped gloves down the bench line. No sooner had the final face-off of the period set up than were Evgeni and Lindgren going at it, hands gripping the back of each other’s jerseys as they dropped their gloves. Gryffindor would start the third one man up.

Remus filed back down the tunnel towards the locker room, smiling at Layla as he dropped his gloves in the bucket she was holding to be dried. He felt warm, his muscles used and a little sore. He longed for an ice bath, but he wanted to use them more too. It was the most familiar feeling in the word. He smiled against it as he sat down in his stall, laughing lightly at the way Evgeni threw a wet towel over his head.

“Not skate enough over the summer,” Evgeni groaned.

Remus looked up when a shadow fell over him and was greeted by two hands on his cheeks and a warm, familiar kiss.

“J’adore,” Sirius said.

Remus laughed, holding his wrists where his pulse still high from the game.

“Nice goal.”

“Good to be back,” James said as he pushed his jersey over his head. “Crowd sounds amazing. How you doing, Reyes?”

Cole looked up from where he was re-taping his socks. “The crowd is amazing.”

Remus felt a slap on the back from Evgeni, towel around his neck now. “Good shift, rookie.”

“Kuns,” Remus sighed, and Evgeni just laughed teasingly.

Remus felt Sirius’ eyes on him throughout the entire intermission. He knew he was curious, and had been for months, about Remus’ game routine. He’d asked and asked over the summer, but that was the thing with Remus’ superstitions—he couldn’t talk about them.

Remus took two fresh sticks from his rack and sat back down. He began wrapping it steadily.

“Of course your tape job is perfect,” Thomas sighed, shaking his head. “Of course, of course.”

Remus laughed, ripping the tape with his teeth.

“Speak for yourself,” Jackson grinned, giving his stick a twirl, the tape warped and hurried.

Remus snorted. “All I see is a fucking candy cane.”

Power play. Lindgren went into the box, slamming the door a little too hard on his way.

“Black,” Coach called as the crowd shuffled into their seats, armed with food, and Remus had been expecting that. “Tremzy, Lupin, Fox, Sunny.”

Remus blinked. He hadn’t been expecting that.

Remus hopped the boards beside Sirius, and the stadium seemed to get louder. Sirius knocked their shoulders together, and Remus didn’t doubt the cameras were on them and he tried to control his expression. He didn’t want to look too pleased, or too dopy at the feeling of skating side by side with Sirius in front of a crowd.

I think this is the moment many of us have been waiting for, Dean.

You bet! I didn’t expect it to come so soon. Coach Weasley is trying out lots of different line combos tonight. What’s pre-season for? I hear Lupin’s played on the power play a few times in practice.

Sirius put his glove up by his mouth, holding his mouth guard.

“Try the double pass?” he said quickly.

“Yeah,” Remus nodded. “Let’s do it.”

Sirius bent down across from Zibanejad and the rest of the Rangers penalty kill unit.

It happened fast. Remus was used to seeing this from the bench—but maybe that was a good thing. He saw the ice as if through a wide lens, Sirius passed to Logan, and then it was on Remus’ stick to carry up. Remus blew out a breath, pushing his legs hard ahead of Panarin. He needed to get ahead, needed to stay parallel with Sirius. He felt Panarin scrape at his heels, but then Sirius was calling his name.

Shesterkin was still up and on his feet, reading to dive whichever way.

“Loup,” Sirius called, and it was as though it was only the two of them in the basement rink. Only the crowd was different, and absolutely roaring. 

Remus snapped the puck to Sirius, who passed it right back. Shesterkin went down when Remus pulled his stick back in a fake, only for him to give it back to Sirius to tap into wide open net.

Remus’ hands shot up, and the crowd screamed. Sirius all but slammed into him, wrapping him up tight against the boards.

“Re,” Sirius laughed through he words, pressing their helmets together. “Mon loup, mon loup—”

Logan crashed into them next, followed by Adam and Henrik. Remus found himself in the center of elated shouts, the fans pounding hands on the glass from the other side.

“Merde, it sounds like the playoffs,” Logan shouted, pressing a hand to Remus’ helmet.

Remus could only laugh, giddy, high on it all.

What a goal! Well, Lee, I don’t think we’re going to have to wait long to see this young man’s first regular season point.

~

“He fell for it,” Remus said for the tenth time as he handed Sirius the last of their dinner dishes. “Shesterkin fell for it.”

Sirius laughed and slid the dishes into the sink and turned, placing slightly damp hands on Remus’ cheeks.

“You are amazing,” he said, accent heavy and laced with a need that Remus had felt stirring in himself since getting off the ice. They’d been on the ice together today. They’d built a goal together, scored. Igor Shesterkin had fallen for their fake-out.

“I was so happy today,” Sirius whispered.

Remus closed his eyes, caught between the feeling of Sirius’ body colliding with his own in celebration, and the feeling of his warm hands here, now.

“It’s everything I’ve ever wanted,” Remus said softly, and opened his eyes, hands against Sirius’ chest.

What a terrifying, wonderful sentence.

Sirius just leaned in to kiss him, mouth tender and insistent. It was the same fire he had on the ice, leading Remus in a way that made his insides warm and his toes curl. Remus let Sirius guide him slowly up the stairs, and he relished in the way they stopped on the landing, on a half-way stair, just to be closer again, Remus’ mouth on his neck, Sirius’ against his temple. The hallway was dark, lit only by the nightlight they kept plugged in near their feet. It cast Sirius in warm angles as Remus tugged his shirt off and dropped it right there in the hallway.

“I’m not saying I’m not going to miss Regulus,” Remus said as Sirius bent to mouth gently against his neck. “But I’m not saying I’m not going to enjoy being able to undress you wherever I want now that we have the house to ourselves.”

Sirius’ laugh was soft, a little breathless. “Name your room, I’ll be there.”

Remus laughed, too. “Bedroom. Nice, soft bed.”

Sirius walked Remus backwards through the door, hands on his hips. “How do you feel? That was quite the race with Kreider in the second.”

“Good,” Remus nodded, but let Sirius’ strong hands dig into the muscles of his shoulders and back. He sighed into it, resting his cheek against his chest. “But I won’t say no to that.”

Sirius kissed Remus’ temple and worked his shirt over his head. He lay him down on the mattress and Remus closed his eyes at the feeling of Sirius’ lips against his neck, and then his shoulder.

Sirius kissed over the scar that Greyback had torn from Remus’ body all those years ago at their shared college, keeping Remus from a career in the NHL—at least until now.

“I wonder what he thinks,” Remus wondered aloud, and he didn’t have to explain himself for Sirius to know what he meant. Remus wound his fingers into Sirius dark hair as he looked up at him.

“Me too,” Sirius admitted. “And then I see red and have to stop thinking about it.”

Remus half-smiled. “Yeah…I felt bad at lunch those few weeks ago. With Cole. I really think he thought he said something wrong, and I wish I could explain but it’s still…it’s still like this weird secret, you know? Like people could find out if they really looked but no one has? And I don’t really want to bring it up but at the same time I know Fenrir has already spread lies. Saying it was a car crash or…who knows what. Sorry.” Remus pressed a hand to his face. “God, I’m completely killing the mood.”

“Re, hey,” Sirius pushed himself up onto his forearm, falling to the side and keeping their legs tangled.

“And it’s such a good mood, I just was thinking aloud.”

“You’re not. Talk to me. You can talk to me whenever.”

Remus ran his thumb over Sirius’ bottom lip. “Okay…yeah, I know that.”

“This was a big day,” Sirius said. “Huge for you. Of course you would be thinking about him. I used to think about my parents every time I stepped on the ice, even after things were getting better. I think…I think its just time. It takes time.”

“It was strange today,” Remus finally admitted. “I couldn’t…I didn’t know how close to you I could be. Out there, I mean. I’m your boyfriend, you’re mine, but we’re also teammates. There’s so much debate, about my place on the team and if you did something to get me there…I don’t know. I don’t want someone to accuse you of favoritism. You don’t deserve that.”

“We’re both,” Sirius said. “We’ll always be both. You’ll always be the boy I love. You’ll always be my teammate.” Sirius shrugged. “It doesn’t matter if we’re on the ice or not. And I don’t care if someone thinks I favor you. We both know I don’t. Not like that.”

Remus made a soft sound and pulled Sirius further on top of him, making him smile. “Love you.”

Sirius let Remus press slow kisses to his lips. “This mood feels pretty good to me.”

Remus just hushed him, tucking a hand into his waistband.

Sirius kissed him until Remus’ cheeks were hot and his cock was aching, pressed up against his sweatpants. Remus could still hear the Lions’ crowd rushing in his ears. Sirius’ palm cupped him and pushed his sweatpants down. They were both flushed and pink. Remus wanted to see those colors together.

He pulled Sirius’ hips against his own, discarding clothing until it was all bare skin. Remus ran his hands over the hard curves of his back. He had to squeeze his eyes shut, hooking his arms beneath Sirius’, holding onto his shoulders.

Their mouths found each other messily, dragging and half open in gasps.

“Sirius,” Remus breathed, voice higher than usual.

The adrenaline that Remus had thought had faded with the game only seemed to thrum brighter. Remus couldn’t help the smile the crossed his face, brows drawn together at the feeling of Sirius rutting against him.

Remus pressed his ankle gently to the back of Sirius’ knee and rolled them, drawing breathless laughs from both their mouths that he sealed away to keep like a love letter. It was soft mouths and hard hands, clutching each other closer, getting the most out of the warm friction. Remus swallowed Sirius’ gasps. His orgasm built up below his spine and Sirius seemed to read his mind. He reached between them with a hand, brushing a thumb at his base, pressing up. Remus’ hips stuttered and he fell apart, shoving hard against Sirius’ tight fist.

Sirius followed at the hot streak of Remus’ come between them, and they lay there, panting, foreheads together. Remus eased their hips back together, both of them letting out a soft moan, then a laugh, as the spent cocks brushed, drawing out the last tendrils of their orgasms.

“That feels good,” Sirius mumbled, head sunken back against the pillows.

Remus rolled his hips slowly, bringing them down, and then pulled his head up. He pushed Sirius’ sweaty hair back from his cheek and kissed it. 

“Communicate to score,” Sirius mumbled.

Remus laughed hard, squeezing his eyes shut, and dropped his face into his neck to catch his breath.

“It’s true,” Sirius said, running a warm palm up and down Remus’ back. “That article we looked at.”

They’d given in and read some press over dinner, laughing at some of the more excitable writers, and grinning at each other at the more serious ones.

Magnetism, one wrote. Feels like we’ve got some mind-readers on this team, a real Crosby-Malkin, Kane-Toews one-two-punch.

“Well,” Remus said, folding his arms across Sirius’ chest. “What am I thinking now?”

Sirius pressed his lips together, pretending to think. “Is it…how to get out of golf with James and the Cubs before the ring ceremony on Tuesday?”

Remus snorted. “Well, that’s definitely on my list. But nope.” He leaned in, brushing their mouths together. “That’s not it.”

Sirius grinned, and Remus sunk into how thick and sated his accent sounded. “Is it…will my handsome boyfriend please run me a bath and make me tea?”

Remus laughed into their next kiss. “Wow, that writer was right.”

~

It looks…maybe like a twisted knee? What do you think, Dean? Walker is definitely not making a move to get up—oh, there’s the medic. One of the Lions’ new staff members as, of course, someone had to take Lupin’s place. Ah, Walker is pointing to his foot now.

Man, is that a grimace if I ever saw one.

It sure is, Dean.

Here comes O’Hara to help out his teammate.

They were in Madison Square Garden, the Rangers giving them one hell of a re-match. Logan skated a close perimeter towards where Thomas had gone down, just between a line change.

“Shit,” Finn skated to a stop beside him. “It’s fucking pre-season. Did you see what happened?”

Logan shook his head. “Not really. Think it was just a bad fall. Strome looks sorry.”

“Oh, so that’s why you’re not jumping him right now.”

Logan’s mouth quirked up. “I have no interest in jumping Strome, thanks.” His eyes found Leo on the bench. With his hat flipped backwards, the intensity, the worry in of his blue eyes cut a clear path to Thomas.

“T,” Finn said, skating closer. “Need a hand to the room?”

Thomas winced as he made it to one knee. “Yeah, man, thanks.”

~

Thomas stared up at the dark ceiling from the padded PT table, listening to the game continue on the TV mounted to the corner of the ceiling. There was the X-ray pushed to the corner, his results pinned up on the light screen. Fracture. Minor, but it’d take weeks to heal. He’d miss the beginning of the season. He’d be in a suit when they lifted the Stanley Cup champion banner in the stadium. He missed Noelle.

The light flicked on so suddenly Thomas flinched.

“Walker,” said an unfamiliar voice. It was accented—Swedish, he thought. Thomas squinted at the speaker. He was tall, and dressed in the staff jacket he’d come to associate with Remus. Right. Lars.

“I…hey,” Thomas said. His eyes went to Layla, who gave a wave as she slipped in behind the man. “Hey, man, Lars, right?”

Lars gave a short nod. “Nice to meet you. So, you probably know the drill by now. Couple weeks. Aspirin will be fine for pain management.”

“Right,” Thomas nodded.

“We’ve got a boot for you here, but I’d take everything to a doctor, just for a second opinion. I’ll recommend someone,” he shrugged. “That was an unlucky hit. I’m sorry.”

Thomas blinked. He didn’t know someone could seem sweetly uninterested. He smiled hesitantly. “Thanks.”

Thomas snapped a picture of the boot once he strapped it on and sent it out complete with a frowning emoji.

He had just opened the door to the locker room, accompanied by his new crutches and to meet his victorious team, when his phone began to ring with a Facetime.

“T,” Noelle’s voice gasped. She was beautiful, her hair curling around her face. “Baby, I saw.”

“It’s not too bad,” Thomas said beneath the noise as the locker room filled up. “You look like you’re about to go somewhere, I can call back, I just wanted to…”

I’m just sad about it. It sounded lame in his own ears.

He cleared his throat. “Logan, say hi to your sister.”

Logan poked his head into the frame and stuck his tongue out, then left.

“Lolo!” Noelle shouted for the locker room to hear, and Logan groaned.

“Lolo,” Kasey imitated, grinning, and Logan shoved his mask down over his face.

“How is it?” Finn asked, wrapping an arm around him. “Hi, Noelle.”

“Fractured. Couple weeks.”

“Damn,” Finn sighed. “Sorry, T. That was an—”

“unlucky hit,” Thomas laughed. “Preach.”

“Hey, baby, we’re all heading to grab some food, but call you tonight?”

Thomas nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

He tried not to feel lonely as the screen went dark. He was in a room surrounded by people. People he loved.

It crept in anyway.

[rhysismydaddy]

Prisoner's Game Pt. 4 (Rowaelin)

THANK YALL FOR BEING PATIENT I AM SO SORRY

Parts 1 \ 2 \ 3

________________________________

Journal Entry #2000

Sometimes I think it wouldn't be so bad to die.

To leave this island forever and not have to worry about being discovered anymore.

I wasn't always this macabre, but two thousand days of checking over my shoulder and wishing for a man's murder has dulled the wishful excitement I felt when I first got here.

Five years ago, I was grateful to even be alive.

I couldn't believe a stranger give up everything for me and the others--couldn't believe she'd agree to fight this battle because of my decision.

I have to actually remind myself to still be grateful to her, if I'm being honest.

Because sometimes I think about that night all those years ago, when she showed up in the darkest part of the night to kill me. When she'd held the knife with a trembling hand and told me that the price for betraying Arobynn Hamel was my life. When we discovered together that she couldn't bring herself to kill me.

Sometimes I think it would be better if she would've just done it.

At least it would've been over.

At least I wouldn't have to spend years on an island, living the same day over and over again. I think that's what's driving me mad, beyond anything else.

The predictability of my time.

Every day, I follow the same routine. The routine she laid out for me in a hushed whisper.

I wake up and go to the small café a mile down the road to watch the news. And every day, I pray to see Arobynn Hamel's face next to to the words, "Breaking news: billionaire crime boss found dead."

Because that was her only stipulation.

That the ten of us would stay on the island, hidden from sight, until news of his death was announced. In exchange, we got to live.

She'd warned me it would take a long time.

She'd told me to not get complacent.

And then she'd whispered what she planned to do.

Even now, over five years later, the words she'd whispered while shoving a plane ticket and a new passport into my hands were crystal clear.

"The devil isn't going to go down easy."

~Aelin~

The shaft of her recently-fashioned shiv was cold in her hand as she silently grabbed it from under her pillow.

The soft clink of the bars shutting again told her whoever had just snuck in her cell was now locked in with her.

Unfortunate for them.

She wasn't afforded the luxury of a clock, but she knew it was the middle of the night. Normal visiting hours were far over. There was no one here but the bored night guards, four janitorial staff, and rows and rows of sleeping inmates.

And the idiot trying to sneak up behind her bed.

She kept her eyes closed as she listened to the quiet steps walk closer and closer. Right when she was about to turn around and attack, they stopped.

Then the weirdest thing happened. It sounded like whoever it was slid down the wall directly across from her bed.

A killer wouldn't do that.

Curiosity piqued, Aelin turned her head to see who and what was going on.

It was dark in the cell, but she'd recognize that shock of silver hair anywhere.

"Rowan?" she whispered, so quietly she almost didn't even hear herself. "What are you doing here?"

He didn't respond, but the way his muscles tensed told her he'd heard her.

Slowly, she sat up so she could see him better and maybe figure out what was going on.

For the first time in a long time, he looked less than perfect. Far less than it, actually.

His hair was going every possible direction, like he'd been running hands through it and pulling on it. He was wearing a gray t-shirt, rumpled dress slacks, and tennishoes that weren't even tied.

But that wasn't what worried her most. It was the way he was sitting completely still and silent.

He didn't even look like he was breathing.

"Hey," she tried again. "What's going on? Look at me."

Another few heartbeats passed, and then he slowly shook his head.

"Please, Rowan. Just look at me."

He winced, like hearing her say his name physically hurt him.

And then his head came up.

Deep green eyes met hers, and even though it was what she'd wanted, what she'd needed, Aelin instantly wished he'd look away.

Because with one look, she knew he'd figured it out.

He knew, and the pain and turmoil in his eyes... she'd put that there.

She'd seen him angry and sad and happy and everything in between, but she'd never seen him, or anyone else, look so broken.

He looked completely and utterly broken as he sat before her.

"Rowan," she whispered, shaking her head even though she didn't know why.

He bowed his head again, seemingly unable to even look at her.

"Ro," she whispered, dropping to her knees in front of him.

Almost like the old nickname broke something inside him, Rowan's shoulders started to shake.

And then he sobbed.

It was the kind of sob that couldn't possibly be held in. The kind that made her heart clench and tears brew in her own eyes, the kind that told her how much pain he was in.

Tears ran down her cheeks as she put a hand on his arm. He shook off the touch like it burned him and looked up at her again.

"I ruined your life," he croaked, the tears on his face reeking of self-hatred. "I ruined your life."

She shook her head. "No, you didn't."

Anger bled into his tone. "I put you in prison for eight years for murdering people who aren't even fucking dead, Aelin. I didn't listen to you, didn't look hard enough. I've had the clues you left me for eight years. We were in love, and I didn't even try hard enough to... I... please explain to me how I didn't ruin your life."

"You did not ruin my life, Rowan," she told him again, meaning every word.

"Eight years of your life, gone because of me. I don't even understand how you can look at me." He huffed a laugh, but he was far from amused. "No wonder you hate me."

His chest was heaving, his hands were in fists, and his stubble-crested jaw was damp with tears.

And she'd thought he hadn't cared.

Aelin felt like a fool--a horrible, stupid fool--for ever doubting him. For thinking him indignant.

Because this was technically what she'd wanted. What she'd planned to happen.

She'd wanted it to hurt, had wanted him to feel an ounce of what she'd felt when he'd led the case against her.

But it wasn't what she wanted anymore.

Moving slowly, Aelin crawled onto his lap, put her hands on the side of his face, and lifted his gaze to hers while she said, "Arobynn Hamel ruined my life, not you."

He shook his head, breathing heavily. "No-"

She cut him off by wrapping herself around him.

Like she was trying to heal physical wounds, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled his head to her chest. She sank into him until there wasn't an inch of space between them. Her hands wandered over his back as she held him tight to her.

He was stiffer than a board at first, but eventually he sagged against her, wrapping his arms around her in return.

It was like he was drowning in the sea, and she was the only thing preventing him from being swept away. He shook, his entire body trembling, and his arms became a vice around her.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered after a moment.

She shook her head, but it didn't matter. He said it again, and again, and again, until his voice was hoarse and broken.

Aelin ran her hands over his back slowly, and just held him as pain he'd felt for eight years seemed to reach a crest.

Eventually he stopped crying and just laid against her, warm breath fanning across her collarbone.

"I'm so sorry, Aelin," he whispered yet again.

"Please stop saying that. None of this is your fault. You aren't the reason I'm in prison."

"Yes, I am," he insisted, shifting beneath her. "But I'm getting you out right now."

He looked up, eyes bright with new-found purpose, and wiped the tears off his cheeks like they were distracting him.

"What?"

He nodded quickly. "We can bring those people back, and you can get your life back. I know it's not the same, and I know I can't get you these years back, but-"

"No."

He paused. "No?"

She shook her head. "I can't leave yet."

"Leave? What the hell does that mean?"

"It means I still have shit to do here. I'm not leaving before it's done."

His eyes narrowed. "You're acting like this is a hotel, not a high-security prison. And what do you even mean?"

Aelin had the good sense to feel a little guilty as she slowly got to her feet and walked to the wall at the back of the cell. A few well-placed taps later, it swung open.

Rowan's mouth dropped open, then closed, then repeated the whole routine like he couldn't decide what to say first.

He apparently figured it out, because it opened again so he accuse, "I knew you were robbing me! Where the fuck is my bed?"

She sighed and rubbed her temples. "That's what you care about right now? Seriously?"

He grumbled something as he got to his feet and leaned into the makeshift doorway in the wall.

It took him a few moments to examine the ladder leading down to the tunnel, and then he straightened and looked at her again with a mixture of confusion, awe, and understanding on his face.

"You've been sneaking out this whole time."

She nodded.

Most of her escapes had been in the past six months, but she'd occasionally left in the years before to check on something or track down a lead.

"You beat up your roommate so they'd put you back in solitary."

Aelin nodded again.

"But how did you know they'd bring you to this cell?"

A small smile pulled on her lips. "Look again," she told him, gesturing towards the open brick door.

He stuck his head in the hole again and couldn't stifle his surprised intake of breath as he saw the other ladders.

He came back in the cell, and the expression on his face made her bite her lip to hold back a smile. "You... you tunneled into prison?"

"Into every solitary cell," she confirmed.

"When? Why?"

"One of my old jobs for Arobynn was to break a client of his out of solitary. I knew which cell he was in, but... getting locked up is kind of a right of passage for my former career, so I figured I'd plan ahead and give myself a way out, should I ever need it." She smiled. "Hamel never could figure out how I did it, so it's safe for me to use now."

Rowan spent a long moment looking at her. "That's... genius."

"I tend to be," she agreed.

They were both silent for a minute, then he said, "You need to tell me everything. Enough of both of us wasting time assuming what the other is thinking. We need to get everything out in the open, and we need to do it now."

Aelin nodded, knowing it was true.

It was time to either finally trust him or kill him, and just the thought of the latter made something inside of her twist so hard she felt nauseous.

She nodded to the tunnel, not wanting to have the following conversation overheard by any prying ears. He nodded and followed her down, closing the door behind him.

When she knew they were alone, she started to explain.

"Maddison Kliff, my first so-called victim, funded her campaign for senator with money from Arobynn Hamel."

Rowan's eyebrows went up in surprise, but he nodded for her continue.

"He gave it to her, with the caveat that when she won, she'd vote against renewable energy for Rifthold. He has millions in oil, so when she did the exact opposite and voted for the green plan that switched the city to 70% electric, he took a pretty hard hit." She took a deep breath. "The day after the vote, I got my orders to kill her."

His jaw clenched.

"I went that night, thinking I could do it. Thinking I'd get it over with and never think about it again. I snuck in her townhouse and had everything set up." She let out a laugh. "But then I realized my deal with Arobynn covered ten of Sam's jobs. If I killed Maddison, and did a good enough job of it to get away with it, I knew he'd put nine more names on the list."

"So you didn't do it," Rowan said, like he already knew but needed to hear her say it.

"So I didn't do it."

Aelin ran a hand through her hair, starting to pace. "I ran. And then I went back the next night with a suitcase, a new ID for her, and a plan."

"Why Aruba?" he asked.

"I'd done all that research for our trip," she said, a pang of sadness shooting through her at the memory of planning their first vacation together. "I didn't have time to research another place. And I never told you, but the house I wanted us to rent? You kind of... own it."

"I own a house in Aruba," he repeated slowly, his tone making it clear he didn't understand.

She rolled her eyes at his tone. "Arobynn might be a bastard I'd love to put in a grave, but he paid me well. I was eighteen and didn't know what else to do with the money. So I bought a house."

"In Aruba. In my name."

She nodded. "No one can trace it back to you. It's hidden in an off-shore corporation, owed by another off-shore corporation, but technically, yes, you're the owner. It was going to be your Christmas present."

"You bought me a house," his lips twitched. "For a Christmas present."

"I was in love with you," she muttered. Then pointed out, "My lack of shopping impulse control really isn't the point of the story."

He rolled his eyes, still fighting a grin at her antics. "Please continue."

"Right. So I sent her to the house in Aruba and told her to stay at the house with anyone else he wanted me to kill. I told her to not say a word to anyone besides those people, and that I'd be forced to actually kill her if she did. If Arobynn finds out they're alive, he'll send someone for me."

She explained the list next. "He requires proof of all completed jobs, so I kept the "murder weapons" and made sure the crime scenes had enough blood to indicate the person couldn't still be alive. It was mostly fake, but I took just enough blood from each of the victims and mixed it in to make it realistic enough to fool DNA scanners. Then I put the weapons in storage lockers he owns and wrote the numbers down so I wouldn't forget them."

Rowan nodded, most certainly remembering that part.

He was doing a good job of hiding his emotions, but she still saw how heavily this all weighed on him.

Everything he'd been feeling for eight years was hitting him at once, and while explanation made sense, it probably didn't make him feel any better about the role he'd played in all of this.

He confirmed it by asking, "Why didn't you tell me?"

He asked it almost casually, but she didn't miss the pain he couldn't keep from seeping into his voice.

"I wanted to," she breathed. "Gods, I wanted to. I know now you investigated before giving the list to the cops, but to me, it looked like you found it and just turned me in. You never asked me. And you looked at me... you looked at me like you thought I was guilty. I knew you wouldn't believe me."

Rowan went quiet, regret and shame coming off of him in waves so thick she almost choked on it.

"How is all of this going to play out?" he asked, seemingly trying to force himself to think about something else. "And what do you have to do that you need to be in prison for?"

She hesitated, suddenly not wanting to tell him.

Not out of a lack of trust, but because if she told him... he'd realize she's guilty of the crime she's in prison for. He might go back to hating her, back to thinking her a horrible person.

And she just got him back.

She's pulled from her thoughts when he reaches a hand out, slowly gripping her jaw to tilt her face to his.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said, the words final.

Of course he knew what she was thinking just from looking at her face. He always was a little too astute.

A part of Aelin wanted to put on a brave face and act like that wasn't exactly what she'd been worrying about, but a bigger part wanted him. Wanted him to see that even after all this time, she needed him.

So she forced down the witty jokes and sultry smiles she usually used as ways to hide her vulnerability and looked up at him.

"Promise?"

He closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. "I promise, Aelin."

His hand was still on her face, and he leaned in until his forehead rested against hers. "I'm never going to leave you again. I'm so... I'm so fucking sorry I did in the first place. I should've come to you, or at least listened when you told me you were innocent."

"I'm sorry I thought you didn't fight for me," she said back. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

They'd both done things they regretted, but Aelin knew that now, no matter what, he was telling the truth. He wasn't going to leave her.

The knowledge felt like a weight lifting off her shoulders, and just to lighten the mood, she whispered, "And I'm sorry I stole your bed."

He pulled back to glare at her. "You're going to explain one day how you even pulled that off. But I'd like the answer to my other question first."

Aelin took a step back and ran a hand through her hair.

"Arobynn Hamel dying is the endgame, Rowan. I have to stay in prison so I can kill him and have an alibi no one will question."

He paused, and for a moment, her fears skyrocketed, so she rushed to explain, "As long as he's alive, those people have to be in hiding and I have to look like I killed them. Once he's dead, I can bring them back without worrying Arobynn will kill them. Or me."

He gave her a strange look, but she spoke before he could, explaining, "It's why I've been in prison for so long. I would've killed him and ended it years ago, but I only found him a couple months ago. He's been in hiding ever since I was locked up, because the FBI knew I was one of his and started looking for him."

"Okay, but Aelin-"

She cut him off. "I know it's insane and not at all ideal, but I need you to leave me in here. Just until he's dead, and then it's over."

He stepped forward and grabs her shoulders, shaking her slightly.

And then he did the weirdest thing.

He smiled.

"What the hell do you look happy about?" she demanded. "I'm being serious-"

It was his turn to interrupt her. "Aelin, if that's the stipulation, you're already free."

Unease drifted through her stomach. "What do you mean?"

"I mean he's already dead."

Shock rushed through her so fast and thoroughly, her vision swam and she swayed in his grip. "What... what did you just say?"

"That's why I came today, now. I actually figured out you were innocent two days ago, but I wasn't going to come until I could tell you with certainty I was getting you out, and I knew you couldn't bring everyone back without risking your life. I've spent the past 48 hours planning a jailbreak and a way to sneak you to somewhere the US doesn't have extradition."

He grinned again. "But then it was announced on the 11 o'clock news tonight that he died last week of pneumonia complications. His family kept it private because they wanted a small funeral, but he's dead, Aelin."

Still feeling the weight of shock, she argued, "He's not dead."

"But he is."

"No," she insisted, pushing away from him and starting to pace again. "He can't be dead."

His face softened at the panic in her voice. "Aelin, I know you wanted it to be you, but-"

"No, Rowan, you don't understand. I mean he cannot physically be dead, because I haven't finished killing him!"

It was his turn to be shocked.

"What do you mean you haven't finished killing him?"

She took a deep breath, trying to keep her emotions in check. "I've been poisoning him since the day I figured out where he holes up. Turns out he has kidney problems and goes in once a week for dialysis. I show up and add a little... extra to his medication. The last time I went was less than a week ago, and while he might have been sick, he most definitely was still alive."

Besides that, what were the odds that Rowan figured out her "victims" were still alive, and just two days later Arobynn croaks?

It would be one hell of a coincidence, and Aelin learned long ago to not believe in those.

His eyes went wide. "What? You mean he faked his death? Why the hell would he do that?"

"Because," she said slowly, dread forming like a lead ball in her stomach as she realized what this meant for her, for the ten people whose lives she'd traded her freedom for. "I told Maddison and the others to wait for news of his death before coming back. I told them that until he was dead, they weren't safe."

She shook her head, whispering, "I told them to watch the news."

Rowan realized what she was saying and cursed.

"He knows."

~~~~~~~~~~~

Lemme know in the comments if you want to be tagged!

Part 5 will (realistically) be out in the next three weeks. Sorry for the slow updates; school is consuming all my time and energy.

@audreycressworth @whimsicallyreading @onceupona-chaos @lil-unoriginal-weirdo-273sole @surielandiareendgame @captain-swan-is-endgame @poisonous00 @vasudharaghavan @sailorsassley @endlessdaydream @swankii-art-teacher @thenerdandfandoms @emily-gsh @beanco8 @stokingthemidnightflame @mis-lil-red @ladyfireheart-and-buzzard @sheharahu @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @jorjy-jo @court-of-dreams-and-ashes @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @live-the-fangirl-life @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @loudphantomdragon @gracie-rosee @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @inardour @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

[snootsnoot-fiction]

I Heart You

Pairing: Denny Duquette x reader

Warnings: Mention of death, reference to sex (this was meant to be an aftercare fic but turned into general fluff mostly)

A/n: This is another birthday gif for @lemonboy-milo​ its officially been a year since i wrote my first ever fic as well, all for this gay boi, I hope your day is as good as can be

Summary: Denny can finally really look after you since his surgery...

It had been a long, and difficult few months to say the least. A heart transplant was no small feet. Nor was everything that came after. There was always a chance of the host body rejecting a new organ.

You were scared for weeks after Denny’s operation. You were more than grateful for his second chance of course - he was almost at the end of his rope on life before receiving this heart - but you were also way too aware that things could be snatched away when you least expect it.

Needless to say, no matter how strong you tried to stay for your man, it was you that ended up needing most comfort. Denny, as much as he hated the idea of leaving you, had personally made peace long ago with the strong possibility of death. 

You had your moments of course. Moments when visiting in the hospital where you would be stronger than ever. It broke you to see him as he was, but you loved him with everything you had. So long as Denny Duquette was alive, you were okay. He was fighting for you, it was only fair you fought for him too.

After the transplant operation, Doctor Burke had gone over what was to come with you and Denny. The average recovery from a heart transplant was at least six months. So, when the man was finally able to go home a few weeks later, you took time off work to make sure you could do anything and everything for him at such a pivotal time. He was no longer in the hospital, and you didn’t want to take any chances.

Denny Duquette tried to get you to relax at times. Of course, he wouldn’t always succeed, but whenever he did, he made sure to promise to not do much. The amount you cared for him and his healing was something he would absolutely never take advantage of. Plus, the sooner he recovered, the better.

The man hated not being able to look after you. That was his one job in life - make sure you were alright. In all the events that occurred thanks to his bad heart, however, he had eventually learnt that taking care of himself was taking care of you. Naturally, he still had his bad times, but it was all worth it to prolong your life together, and keep you happy. 

You had met Denny at the Seattle Grace hospital. He had struck up a conversation while the both of you were waiting in line at the coffee cart. His heart problems were mentioned, and ever since then you had been worried about him and anything relating to his heart. The man even gave you his coffee so you didn’t have to buy one after you expressed concern. 

The two of you had been in intimate situations before, but never full on intercourse. As much as you wanted it at times, not only were you scared about his heart, but you were shy. All that mattered to Denny was that you were comfortable and okay. ‘When you’re ready darlin’ he would say. When his heart got worse and he got his new one, you would suggest you’d be ready when he was fully recovered, but he’d always gently turn you down, insisting you had to be ready. To be comfortable. To truly want it.

That being said, it happened so naturally. It was perfect and everything you could have imagined and more. It had been about seven months since the surgery, and the man wanted to treat you. The perfect indoor date, just the two of you. He went all out, even pretending to drop you off back home at the bedroom door. It was in that moment, as you looked into his loving eyes, emotion swelled up inside you like a hurricane. Before you knew it, you had pulled him in for a passionate kiss. 

The rest, as they say, was history. At least it was up until now. You were laying in Denny’s arms, completely naked and content for the first time in your life. All your worries, in this moment, were nowhere to be found as this man held you to his bare chest. 

“How’s my Y/N?” He asked softly as his thumb rubbed circles into your arm and he placed a kiss upon your head.

“Mmm great…” You murmured softly as you watched your own hand just sitting on his torso. “How are you?” You asked after a few moments, looking up at him. He knew you were thinking about his heart.

“I’m fine baby,” he spoke with a smile as he lifted one hand to cup your face, “more than fine. I love you so much dollface.” His words made you blush and you began to look away, but he gently grabbed your chin between his thumb and forefinger, making you look at him again. “You’ve done so much for me this past year.. I am more than thankful for that.” All you could do was smile shyly and blush harder. He simply chuckled. 

“What are you doing?” You whimpered when Denny slowly started to move.

“I’m looking after you.” He stated matter-of-factly as he gently laid you back down and stood up from the bed, pulling his underwear back on. “Uh- no no no!” The words came out firmly as he leaned over to press a hand to your shoulder when you started to move.

“I should be looking after you…” You pouted at him.

“Baby doll you need to relax okay?” His hand moved to cup your cheek again. “You have been looking after me since we first met, let me really look after you for once, yeah?” He waited, not wanting to let you get up. You could see the seriousness in his eyes. The love and desire to be his normal self again.

“Okay..” you eventually managed to mumble as you laid back as you were. Smiling, Denny’s hand brushed down your arm, grabbed your hand, and pulled it up to his lips for a kiss. His eyes sparkling with happiness as he looked at you.

After another moment, the man let go as he grabbed the sheets to pull them over your nude form. You grabbed the sheets eagerly, hugging them up to your chin.

“You need anything?” He questioned as he stood straight again.

“Just you.. cuddles..” your words made him chuckle softly.

“Is my baby thirsty?” The man gave you a firm look, making you nod ever so slightly. “I’ll just get you some water, okay? Then we can cuddle.” 

You listened to the sound of his footsteps and the clink of glasses as he retrieved one from the cupboard. A grin creeped on your face as the seconds passed and you expected him to walk back in. The tiniest squeal left you when he reappeared, causing the widest smile yet to spread across his face and yet another blush to spread across yours.

“Here.” Denny moved to sit on his side of the bed before handing you the glass. He watched as you downed the water. “Very thirsty.” He commented as you placed the glass on the bedside table. You wasted no time in holding up the bed sheets and patting his spot, silently commanding him to now cuddle. “So impatient!” The man chuckled again as he slid under the covers with you.

Instead of cuddling right away, he laid on his side facing you, grabbing your hands and holding them to his chin. 

“How did I ever get so lucky huh?” Letting one of his hands go, Denny stroked your hair with such affection you could have melted and fallen into a puddle on the floor. 

“I don’t know..” you squirmed slightly, not used to someone caring for you like the man in front of you did.

“C’mere…” Letting go of your hands, he opened his arms. You squealed excitedly again, causing him to chuckle, as you turned around and wiggled back into him. Little spoon that you were. His arms closed tightly around you as he pulled you further into him as he breathed in your scent and let out a long, satisfied sigh. 

“Y/N… I dont think you know just how much I appreciate everything you have done for me, especially over these last few months,” he whispered into your ear. You could hear everything he felt hanging on his every word. “I haven’t been able to look after you as well as I would’ve liked, but now with this new heart, I can do that and love you twice as hard as I ever did.. So I hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself in for darlin’.” He nuzzled his face into the back of your neck.

“I love you too Denny baby.” Your words portrayed how soft he had made you feel. This man, who was unable to be the man he usually was for so long, had every intention of looking after you in every sense. You stuck with him all this time, helped him through all the bad, and now he was back to full strength, he was going to do the exact same for his precious baby doll. 

[honoredbastard]

I COME BACK WITH THOUGHTS/THEORIES ON ITADORI AND HIS RELATIONS- I THINK.

anyways, so i'll just point this out: i'm not good at speaking my thoughts in an organized manner. i absolutely suck at it, i speak on how my brain brings up the thoughts so i might ramble, get over my head in a thought, etc. i can't control it so i apologize in advance for the jumpiness of the texts. i will spell a lot of things wrong and not everything will be correct, as i read translations and on a manga site. don't worry it's not illegal, i believe.

MANGA SPOILERS AHEAD.

i apologize for my absence! last week or two weeks ago the tower to my computer completely broke and will not turn on. i tried to repair it and follow my fathers instructions but nothing worked. even cleaned off the fan and went through countless nights readjusting things. it's not my cords either so to help me out my father is working extra shifts to get me a new pc. so in the meantime i'll do small posts like these but not full writing/head canons until i have a computer tower lol. a family member was kind enough to allow me to have their phone while we work throughout this issue.

now onto the actual topic:

kenjaku and itadori's relationship. ( family wise ).

for context in the most recent chapter, 160 "colony" kamo shows up in sasaki's home and talks to her about the culling game and a barrier. but that's not the point, the point is as he's guiding her to the barrier inside her "dream" at the end he says "oh right. i almost forgot to tell you. thank you for getting along with my son." and then she is awakened inside the barrier, in her pajamas beside iguchi. when sasaki and iguchi look at the barrier and gather themselves they bring up kamo.

sasaki asked iguchi if he mentioned his son and he says no. this leaves sasaki in a state of confusion when itadori flashes in her mind. she says his name aloud like she finally connected the dots. now. why am i bringing up this whole kenjaku thanking sasaki for being his "son"'s friend. it throws me off because why didn't he thank iguchi?

did he not think iguchi meant their friendship? because sasaki was the one uninjured and still counted itadori as a friend? does iguchi not consider itadori as a friend anymore?

because we haven't seen these two at all since the incident. that raised many questions in me. as well "how can itadori be related to kamo?" and itadori is related to choso.

because kamo's technique is explained ( vaguely. we are aware he can create barriers, take over bodies, and has incredible cursed tools. chapter 134. this is also where choso makes his connection ( i believe. ) to itadori yuji as his brother. but because we saw this with todo many thought itadori just had another unconsious technique that allows the person who is hit create false memories and believe of a completely made up relationship with itadori without his knowledge. but alas, i was wrong. ) and we're given more hints shown than told ( imo ) i tried my best to make sense out of the situation and what he said. i think my conclusions are pretty solid, so continuing on.

we're given very little history on itadori, his past, and family. at the start of the manga we know that itadori's only family he knows is his grandfather and that he is ill in the hospital. at the very very beginning we learn that itadori is your average cute, fluffy, laid back but strong and goofy protagonist. in smaller words: itadori is kirby but even cuter and dumber.

my first impressions of him is a pineapple. if you're confused to this saying: it's calling a person prickly on the outside but sweet on the inside. and this is true, itadori's grandfather seems prickly and cold on the outside but he genuinely cares for itadori.

he raised itadori for all we know and did that with his all in assumption. but this ends up backfiring onto itadori, because he cares so much for his grandson - he ends up leaving a " curse " on yuji.

help people. save them.

itadori takes this to heart as his grandfathers speech is his last one. when he looks over to his grandfather the man is dead and now yuji is left alone. then the following events occur.

at this point in time i assumed itadori was an orphan ( he technically is if we're connecting the dots. his parents has not been shown, he doesn't speak of them, they aren't in the picture. we can conclude either they disowned itadori or died before he could make complete memories of them. )

but when we are shown in chapter 143 itadori's parents we see this "woman" jin ( yuji's father ) and his grandfather talking about has the same scar pattern. this scar pattern is either stitching ( assuming that is how kamo keeps the top of the opened skull from coming off. this is also how kamo revealed his cursed technique / body of sorts ( the brain, assuming that is kenjaku in his cursed technique and not the body / puppet he is controlling " getou suguru " ) to gojou. )

this is the only way i find kamo being able to assign itadori as his son. why is that you might be asking this dumbass here.

we do not have the full story, exact date, location, and full context of the memory/dream itadori is having. this cannot be fake either because kamo would than have no reason to call itadori his son. or is there? anyways.

take a leap of faith with me. imagine that before itadori is born ( he seems no more than a few weeks or days old in this memory. hence why i am thinking my conclusion is pretty solid in theory. but yknow gege, there might be something different. ) anywhooo.

TW. D3ATH/IMPLYING ANTI LIFE ATTEMPT

kamo had to have taken over yuji's mothers body after an accident OR after she gave birth to yuji. his grandfather is interrupted by her before he can finish his sentence but it seems to be leading to the conclusion that either kaori ( yuji's mother ) died while giving birth to yuji or kaori could not conceive and tried to take her own life or cause an accident that would take her life. ( i read a fan translation for this part but im pretty sure i also read the official translation today too and it added up to the same. )

i believe in the first idea, but since kamo's cursed technique wasn't explained in detail i don't know the conditions of his body technique. does the original host of the body have to be dead? can he regenerate body limbs ( i highly doubt. getou lost an arm during his fight with yuta. overconfident dick. reminding me of an ex ANTWAYS. i forgive him for being overconfident smooch. he learned. OFF TOPIC but continuing on i promise.

this is being continued from the cut off point. i'm so upset so it'll just be summarized. i can't believe this shit lol i took three hours just to finish it for it to literally cut off the bottom half.

continuing on in a sadge mood. kamo must not have the complete ability to take over a body. after all getou took his only arm he had as he was dying and choked his own body to his full ability. getou was willing to die ( possibly, you never know he could be alive if he killed his own body. moving on. ) just to have the chance to save his friend from being swallowed by a damn box.

so there has to be a chance that kamo cannot fully take over the previous persons complete consious and memory of their body. if getou still had his other arm after losing the fight to yuta, he could've choked kamo with both arms. in theory kamo wouldn't be able to control the right arm and die to the previous host choking him to death.

so why wouldn't the other hosts do it? after all, kamo did say it was his first time experiencing such a thing. assuming kamo has lived throughout many bodies in his 150+ lifespan none of the previous hosts could take control of their body.

i believe getou was completely influenced by gojou and his six eyes. there is no way gojou would even try to speak out to his friend unless he had an inkling or saw getou still in there. helpless and without the ability to save himself from the cage he's in.

being used and puppeteered in his own body by an external force. laughing in the world he could not. putting getou into a constant misery and defeat that he couldn't escape his hell. the one he tried so hard to fight and get out of. even if it was the wrong path.

gojou was the last person to witness getou dying. he had to watch getou bleed out after their conversation because he couldn't bring himself to kill his friend. the one he spent his whole jujutsu student life with. so for gojou to say such a thing to getou despite all that he did had to break getou out of his misery and give him that small sliver of hope that he could do something. of course he failed, but i doubt that's going to be the end of that.

the only way i see kamo being related to yuji is if he took over kaori's body before the pregnancy. assuming that when kamo takes over a body he becomes one with said body and is that person for however long he lives in said body. my only thing is, can he take over a persons body whilst they are alive? i would go more in depth like i did the last time but i am extremely upset about my work being erased so that's the end of this part.

thank you for reading! i have one more thing for you though.

the last time we see sukuna in a manga page after the shibuya incident is where he is on his throne and in his domain. this is after yuji is stabbed by yuta and is presumed "dead" at the time. he seems to be interested in yuta and i can think of 2-3 things. I would love to hear your theories too so don't be afraid to barge into my dms like the koolaid man.

A - sukuna is interested in Yuta because of his ability to use the reverse healing technique ( only a few sorcerers know this. sukuna being the first. shoko being the second one to be told that she has this power and then gojou. ) because of this he sees potential in yuta as well or has added this boy into his plans. after all, there is very few that can make sukuna make an expression that isn't an RBF. aka megumi and possibly gojou. I was looking at the page of him stabbing yuji and noticed we only see the entry point of where the blade enters. it's smaller because some got chunked off so its a possibility yuta used this to his advantage when "killing" yuji and instead hit an artery that could kill him but quickly healed him afterwards. or just his heart. the ideas.

B. Rika, Yuta is able to completely control Rika as shown. Even though he claims he is on the weak side, these two combined seem like an unstoppable force. He may be interested in Rika as she is a curse that has been put on someone that can fully control it. Not many people is shown to be able to control their curse. As we haven't met many.

this was enti and that's the last of my post! thank you for reading and it was a fun one. even though i had to restore this shit. anyways, i'd love you to add or fix up my ideas and tell me your thoughts and opinions! Thanks a bunch!

^ this is for pure humor

[notdonesimpin]

Wants And Needs ~d.a.~

daiki aomine x reader

warnings: kinda angsty, kinda fluffy. it does have a happy ending

synopsis: two people with a love for sports, finding themselves on opposite sides of the spectrum. One never puts in the effort and the other wishes they could touch the court once more.

a/n: its long haha :) self indulgence got the better of me. hope you enjoy :)

Being the second manager of Touou Academy’s basketball was a fairly easy task until Momoi decided to put you on babysitting duty because Aomine seemed to be too hard to reach or find nowadays.

You’d argued her down on why it had to be you since they had been close since they were kids, but you knew it was because she couldn’t do proper stats or research if she had to worry about him.

Despite your better judgement, you agreed, putting the team’s needs before your own feelings. 

The only thing you couldn’t shake is how she said that you’re the only person he’ll actually listen to. What does that even mean? 

You’ve only had a few conversations with him and most of them seemed pretty tame. You’d never asked him to do anything. It was only ever minor suggestions to better his game or to help him heal afterwards but that was the extent of your friendship.

He’d just known you since you went to the same middle school as him but you both lived in different worlds then. He was the ace of the basketball team and you were the ace of the volleyball team. Your paths almost never crossed with how busy and committed you both were to your clubs, but you both respected each other and watched the other play whenever you had the chance.

“Why are you following me like a lost puppy? Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Aomine asks, snapping you out of your thoughts as he begins to ascend the ladder to the roof.

“Well, Momoi has gotten too busy to keep an eye on you, so you can call me your babysitter. It feels more like I’m supposed to be your secretary, though.”

“You can quit early. You’re not making me go to practice. There’s no point if I’m better than everyone.”

You huff, following him up. “You’re so arrogant.You know, that there’s going to come a day where someone will knock you off of your high horse or you might just do it yourself.”

He shrugs, laying down and letting his eyelids close.

“Daiki. Get up.”

He ignored you, faking a few snores in hopes that you’d give up and leave him alone. 

You let out a huff, contemplating on how to get him to go to practice. “What will it take for you to start going to practice?”

“I already don’t go, and my performance is fine.”

“But your teamwork is shit,” you blurt, quickly clamping your hands over your mouth as soon as you could.

He opened one of his eyes, glancing at you. “I don’t need a team. I’m strong enough on my own.”

“Then prove it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s go to practice. You’ll play by yourself versus three guys on the team. If you win, I’ll stop pestering you about practicing or being on time. If you don’t, you’ll practice on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays and do strength training with me on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

Aomine scoffs, “You must be expecting me to win with your outrageous request.”

You shake your head, “I know you’re going to lose, so I need enough punishment to get you off of your high horse. Plus, we’ll have a 3 on 1 game every week until you beat them or you admit that you can’t do it by yourself. Do we have a deal?”

He sits up, looking at you in amusement, “We have a deal if you agree to let me take you on a date after I win.”

“Then, we have a deal, Mr. Optimistic.”

He jumps up, heading for the ladder. “Let’s go. I don’t want to eat too late.”

Your eyes widened at his sudden determination to go to practice, even if it was under an agreement. You quickly followed him, having trouble since his legs were decently longer than yours.

He pushed the gym doors open and all eyes went to the two of you. They all fell silent when Aomine began to speak. 

“Imayoshi, Sosa, and Harasawa. Play me. 3-on-1,” he challenged.

“Daiki-kun! What are you doing?” Momoi asks, looking in between you, him, and the three players he’d just called out.

“I’m just here to win a bet that Y/N made with me. That’s all.”

He jogs onto the court, getting ready to play and disregarding everything Momoi, you, and the coach were saying to him.

“How about we go to 21? My baskets will count for 1 or 2 points and yours will count for 2 or 3,” he smirked, passing the ball to Imayoshi as he got in a defensive stance.

“You cocky little asshole.” The match began moments later.

In only about 15 minutes, Aomine had won in a landslide. 21-5.

Your jaw dropped, “Daiki…”

He grabbed his bag off of the ground with a triumphant smirk, grabbing your hand to pull you along with him as he left. “How do burgers sound? I’m starving.”

You fell silent after you caught up with Aomine, walking beside at a leisurely pace. He let go of your hand and let out a sigh.

“You’re quiet,” he notes after a few minutes of silence, “Do you really have nothing to say to me if it isn’t about practice?”

“I’m just trying to get my thoughts together. I don’t want to say anything that I don’t really mean,” you mutter.

He nods, letting the two of you fall into silence once again as he opens the door for you to walk into the fast food restaurant.

About five minutes later, Daiki sat down across from you with a large pile of food. He hands you two burgers and some fries, knowing that you usually didn’t eat much.

“Alright, I can tell you’re mad at me,” he leans against his chair, looking at you.

“I’m not mad at you.”

“Yes, you are. You have the same look on your face when I do something extremely reckless during the game or when I almost get hurt because I didn’t take your advice.”

You huff, “Why do you spend so little time practicing basketball if you love playing so much?”

“It’s no fun when no one is a challenge anymore. I’m the only person that can beat me.”

“Can you shut up with your superiority complex bullshit!” you snap.

His eyes widened. You’ve never lost your cool before. Why did you care so much about him skipping practice?

You took a deep breath and spoke in a calmer tone. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just- you claim to love the sport so much, yet, you subconsciously have given up. You’ve stopped having fun, but you don’t want to admit it.”

“Shut up,” he muttered.

“You hate the sport because you have no one to play against. Yet, winning isn’t the only reason to play. You play for your team or are you just too self-centered to realize it.”

“You don’t get to talk to me about the decisions I have made. You have no right to say that I need to play for the team when you were the best volleyball player at Teiko. You were the only person talked about as much as we were, but you quit. You gave up on your team. Don’t give me shit when you walked on the thing that made you who you are,” he sneered, getting up to leave.

“I didn’t give up. I’d committed to Rakuzan, but I got injured. They didn’t want me anymore. No strong team wanted me. Since Touou’s volleyball team is rather small since it just started last year, they still wanted me. That’s why I’m here. So don’t tell me about giving up because my love for volleyball is too strong. Everything I’ve ever done is to better myself and my team. That’s why I can have fun even if I’m beating the other team by a landslide. I can imagine how upset I have made you, and I apologize. I just- I would kill to step on the court right now. My doctor says that if I have surgery, I’ll be out for another six to nine months but my volleyball career will be guaranteed. I’ve thought about throwing away the rest of my career to play another season right now. Excuse me if seeing you flake off when you have so much potential makes me upset. I’m sorry for ruining our supposed date. Have a good night, Aomine.”

He couldn’t deny the way his heart ached after hearing your story or the way he swore that his heart broke when you called him by his last name. You haven’t done that since middle school.

His chest felt heavy, but there was nothing he could do now except to walk away. His pride being too large for an apology to fall across his lips.

It had been two weeks later and neither of you have tried to talk to the other. The team could practically feel the tension between the two of you as you sat on the opposite end of the bench to avoid being beside Aomine.

You were always the one to keep Aomine’s head afloat during games, so they weren’t sure what to expect without you quietly coaching him. They needed his complete focus during the game against Seirin and they were afraid he wouldn’t be able to keep his mind from drifting to whatever caused a rift between the two of you.

You stood up giving each of the players a pat on the back as they stepped onto the court. You placed your hand on Aomine’s shoulder as you stopped, causing him to stop and glance at you. He was going to open his mouth to say something, but you just gave him a tight lipped smile and continued to the bench and sitting by Momoi.

She gave you both sympathetic looks, knowing of the situation due to you both coming to her on separate occasions. Only Momoi knew how much of his play depended on your reassuring words and guided coaching. It wasn’t that he was terrible without you, but you gave him a purpose that neither of you realized.

The game has favored Touou for the most part, but Seirin was staying somewhat in the game. Everyone could tell that Aomine wasn’t giving his all, but no one knew how to approach him about it. They knew only you could bring him back to reality.

“Y/N, you do know that he’s started to come to practice, right?” Momoi says without taking her eyes off of the game. “He told me that he��d be there on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays only because he has strength training on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

“Why are you telling me this?” you asked, trying to hide the shock you felt that he actually listened to you even though he won the bet.

“He said that you put some things into perspective, and he shouldn’t take his time playing basketball for granted when there are people dying to even be able to do a percentage of what he does.”

You quietly nodded, not noticing the smile that crept on your face.

Halftime came and the team quietly went to the locker room. Everyone could tell how close to breaking Aomine was.

You refilled the water bottles and grabbed some colder towels as you walked into the locker room. You gave all the players that came off of the court a towel and a bottle, receiving a small thanks as the coach talked to them. 

You noticed Aomine staring at the ground, trying to keep his focus on the game. You unfolded the cool towel, placing it over his head and bent down to set the bottle in front of him. 

As soon as you tried to  walk away, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you towards him until his head rested on your torso and his arms were wrapped around you. You paused, unsure of how to respond. You could have sworn you heard a soft sniffle come from him.

“Uh, Daiki-kun-” Momoi started, realizing how uncomfortable you looked.

You cut her off with a reassuring smile, “It’s okay, Momoi. Let him be.”

You look down at him, moving the towel onto his neck so you could run your hands through his hair.

The buzzer sounded to signal that there were two minutes left until the game began. Everyone piled out, but Aomine didn’t budge.

You fell silent as he looked up at you with a few tears rolling down his face. “I’ve never felt so lost on the court, Y/N. Please, tell me what to do out there! Tell me how many mistakes I’ve made. Yell at me. Hit me for being such a dumbass! I just need you to- just please- please, talk to me. I can’t take it anymore.”

“Kagami goes based on instinct, like you, so any movement that could give a hint about what you’re going to do is guaranteeing your loss in a one-on-one battle. Beating him is easy if you let yourself have some fun. This may be the only time I tell you this, but don’t hold back.”

His eyes widened, “Really?”

“Yeah. Don’t hold back and win this game for the team.”

“I’m still struggling with the team thing, but I can win this game for you, if that’s okay,” he confessed as he gets up, keeping his arms loosely wrapped around your waist.

You lightly laughed, “I guess it’s okay. I just want you to have some fun.”

“Can I kiss you?” he leans down, ghosting his lips over yours.

Knowing your words would fail you, you pulled him down, crashing his lips onto yours. His arms tightened around you as he tried to pull you impossibly close to deepen the kiss.

You pull away with a small smile on your face, patting his chest. “Let’s go before they think we’ve murdered each other.”

Aomine instantly picked you up, and rushed out of the locker room despite your protests.

“Daiki! Put me down!” you yell as the tunnel begins to end.

The team looks over at the sound of your voice to see Aomine carrying you out. They all let out a deep sigh of relief to see that the two of you were getting along again.

He sits you down and you hit him in the shoulder. “If you weren’t playing right now, I swear I would murder you!”

He laughs, giving you a quick kiss as the buzzer went off for the game to start again. “I want to cheer as loud as you can for me, yeah?”

You grin, “I’ll do my best.”

~~

A few months later, you were at the hospital, waiting to be wheeled back for surgery when Aomine bursted into your room with wide eyes and his uniform on.

“Daiki? What are you doing here? You have a game like right now!” you exclaim.

“I couldn’t play. I tried, Y/N. I really tried to stay focused during warm ups, but I can’t when you’re here, getting the surgery that brings you onto the court you love. I can’t just show up after it’s done and ask if you’re okay.”

“The team needs you.”

“The team is the reason I’m here. They’re worried about you, too. You may not play on the court, but you’ve been there for every single one of us when we needed it the most. It’s only fair that I do that same for you as your teammate, but more importantly, as your boyfriend.”

“Daiki…” your eyes soften, noticing the tears threatening to leave his eyes. 

He wasn’t typically a vulnerable person. This was the first time you’d seen him so upset since that fight.

“You’re here alone when you shouldn’t have to be. Your parents are out of town. Who’s going to take care of you, baby? I know you put up this big front that you’re strong, but I don’t think you actually want to go into surgery without a comforting and familiar face.” Daiki’s voice cracks as he walks over to you. His laces your fingers together. “Let me take care of you.”

“Okay.” Your voice was small. You felt all of the emotions you’d been holding in start pouring out as tears began to fall down your face. 

He wipes a few tears off of your face, pulling the chair closer to the edge of the bed to sit down. “How long until it’s time?”

“Ten minutes.”

He nods, letting the both of you fall into a comfortable silence.

“Daiki?” you asked after a few minutes of silence.

He hums in response as he looks over at you.

“What if I’m a part of the unlucky 25 percent that can’t play again?”

“Y/N, you’re overthinking. Everything will go perfect. You’ll be playing volleyball next season, and I’ll get to cheer my girl on from the sidelines. If anything other than that happens, we’ll burn that bridge when we get to it. Either way, you have me.” He bends down to rummage in his bag, pulling out a teddy bear and handing it to you. “I got you this to hold onto during the surgery.”

“Thank you, Daiki.” You grabbed it from him, wrapping your arms around it tightly as you noticed that it smelled of his cologne. Your heart swelled as he successfully calmed you. 

Five minutes later, the nurse came in to wheel you to the back. He gave you a soft kiss on the forehead and watched them wheel you out.

The next three hours were excruciating for Aomine. He sat there in silence for the most part, checking his phone for updates on the game from Momoi.

After she informed him that they won, he made a plan with them to drop by your place later to check on you and celebrate later that night after they released you.

The nurse rolled you back in and you were still asleep. 

“How did it go?” he nervously asked.

“It was a success! As long as she does everything right, she should get back to volleyball in no time. She should wake up in the next thirty minutes or so. After that, we’ll see how she feels and go through everything that you guys need to do for the next two to three weeks until her check up.You guys should be out of here in another hour.

He nods, “Thank you.”

Just like the nurse said, you woke up thirty minutes later and felt a little groggy. He softly smiled at you, rubbing circles on the back of your hand.

“Hey, baby. How do you feel?”

Your eyes flutter open and you make immediate eye contact with him. “I want to go home, Dai,” you pout.

“I know. We’ll be going home soon. You’ll be back on the court before you know it, too.”

“Really?” you beamed.

He couldn’t help but match his smile to yours. “Yeah, they said it went perfect.”

Later that night, you and Aomine were quietly watching a movie when there was a knock on your door. 

You look at him confused as he gets up and walks over to it. “Aomine, who’s here?”

He smiles without answering your question as he opens the door to reveal the team standing there. They all piled into your home, asking if you were okay. Some of them handed you flowers and sweets while others brought movies and games for you to do in your free time.

“What are you guys doing here?” you ask in shock.

“We wanted to make sure that everything went well. Aomine thought it’d be a good idea,” Imayoshi informed you.

Aomine cheeks heated up as he scratched the back of his head. “I figured since you brought us closer as a team, you wouldn’t mind.”

“Not at all. These are moments with you guys that I won’t get often after I start playing volleyball again.”

“Nonsense, the volleyball team and basketball team schedules almost never clash because we only have one gym. The only time it’d be troublesome is during tournament season. Even if you can’t be at most of our games, you can still come to a lot of the practices,” Aomine interjected.

Everyone looked at him with wide eyes. “Why do you know this information?” Momoi asked.

“I wanted to see how much time I was going to get to spend with Y/N once she was released to play.”

“Oh you are so whipped.”

[yeojaa]

( ROSERAIE. )

What you had - so brilliant and beautiful and bright it was almost impossible to look at head-on - was what was tearing you two apart.  It was your love that would be your demise.  

pairing.  jjk x f!reader.

genre + rating.   my take on a hanahaki!au.  pretty heavy on the angst.  general.

tags / warnings.  mention of minor character death, breaking up, soulmates, angst, unrequited love, sick character (hanahaki), bittersweet, non-idol.

wc.  3.2k

beta reader(s).  my forever queens, @hobi-gif​ @snackhobi​!  you both bring such hope and joy (hahahaha) to my life!!!  and of course, the loveliest angels @joheun-saram​, @pars-ley​, and @ditttiii​ for reading through and giving me excellent feedback!

author note.  this is a part of @goldenclosetnetwork​‘s 23 | jungkook’s birthday project.  it’s my first time writing a hanahaki au so...  i have a lot of headcanons for it but i’m not sure whether it all came across in the story.  😰  eep.  anyway, please enjoy and feel free to leave any feedback.  i would love and appreciate it!  most importantly:  happy birthday, kook!  💖

Your parents were a young match.  Together from the tender age of eleven, they’d shared pieces of themselves readily, trading secrets in tree houses and blanket forts.  Nothing was held back - a childhood crush brought to life by playful ribbing and sugar-coated snacks.  Where your mother went, so did your father;  she was his light as much as he was her shadow.  Two halves of a destined whole, earnest and pure.  Friends first.  

It made perfect sense when they shared their dreams - the same one they’d had since they could remember - and it was identical:  swimming in the ocean with a faceless friend, families on their respective four and three-week long road trips.  They’d recognised each other immediately, felt the click the moment they stepped off the camper van.  Your father had called it cooties;  your mother said butterflies.

It didn’t matter that they’d never seen each other’s faces until that moment.  There was the spark.  Recognition.  The rest was history. 

Jungkook’s parents have been soulmates since the early 2000s.  His father had lost his wife - his first soulmate - exactly one year prior to their meeting.  He didn’t have his recurring dream until a fortnight before he met his wife.  Hadn’t expected it, either.  He’d been talking about his day in his local support group (it never got easier, he’d discovered) and he’d mentioned it in passing, glossing over the details of the vivid new pictures painted against his eyelids.  His second wife - his second chance - had attended after losing her son.  A complete chance.  Serendipitous. 

It wasn’t always simple, though.  The heartbreaking endings came just as often as the happy.  

There were people who lost their soulmates before even meeting them.  They’d never know they’d lost their first one until the next dream came - if it came.  If they were lucky enough.  

There were message boards and dating sites.  Places people stripped themselves bare and spilt their secrets to the world.  Desperate for love, they detailed their dreams and hoped that their other half was somewhere out there, reading those same words.  

Some, though, never found their special someone.  Life came at you fast and from all directions - or it never came at all, caught somewhere across the globe in the form of someone you’d never meet.  Those were the most painful circumstances, as if fate was cheating the system.  Here’s a love you know you have, but that you’ll never experience.  It was terribly cruel. 

(But when was life ever fair?)

There were stories about those that never found their puzzle piece and how it felt, whether it hurt.  Most said it was a quiet ache, something you never really noticed until you thought too closely about it, like a scar that had healed over or a loved one gone a long time.  Painful in an explicable way and only - luckily, miserably - softened by ignorance. 

Others spoke about it like death, missing an integral part of themselves.  It played a large part of their life, shaping and changing them with each passing day.  They couldn’t fully live without their person, even if they’d never met them.  It was simply the principal of the matter. 

You’d never quite existed in either camp.  You’d always wanted to find love but you hadn’t rushed it.  You figured you’d meet your happily ever after at some point.  Maybe at your work - caught between the shelves or returning an overdue book - or maybe out with your dog, walking the same route you took every day.  They’d show up one day.  You were sure of it. 

Love had a way of surrounding you. 

Your best friends - because of course the two of them would fall for each other (it was nauseating) - had found each other young too, on the grounds of the elementary school you all played on.  They’d been bonded since the beginning, secrets exchanged in art class and atop monkey bars.  You’d cheered them on the whole way, giddy in a way you couldn’t describe.  Being around it  felt like standing beneath the sun, scorching heat warming you all the way to the core.  It didn’t matter that you didn’t have it for yourself (yet). 

They’d come.  Eventually.  You felt it in your bones and later, you’d learn, in your shins.

He’d come around the corner fast as a bullet, headphones in and hood pulled over his head.  You’d barely have time to avoid him, poor coordination lending itself to disaster when only one of your feet would make it out of his path of destruction.  

BANG!  

It was something right out of a campy romance novel.  Guy goes jogging, runs headlong into his dearly beloved and nearly gives her a concussion.  He feels bad for her scraped knees and falls in love with her dog.  His morning runs become theirs and six weeks later, over a late night bite of contrasting gelato flavours - green tea for him, bubble gum for her - they fit the pieces together.

Jungkook’s the faceless boy you’d always dreamt of, one hand on the wheel, the other resting easily on your thigh.  He was the one with the slick black AppleWatch and long fingers.  You’d never imagined he’d be covered in ink, immaculate designs running the length of his forearm all the way back and across his shoulders.  In fact, you’d never thought about tattoos at all. 

You get your first and only one with him - intricate red looped around your wrists and over your pinkies.  Your own, very real string of fate, sealed and signed forever in rouge. 

He was your Prince Charming, your best friend, your bonafide soulmate.  You’d done everything together - skydiving, snorkelling, silly photos atop the Eiffel Tower.  He’d adapted to your distaste of onions and took them all, meticulously picking them out of stir fries and sauces until not a single sliver remained.  You’d learnt to tolerate his unbearably fast driving, white-knuckled and silent when he’d tear around corners too fast in a car too low. You fit perfectly, filling all the spaces he could never, keeping him whole even when he was broken.  

Your love was of fairy tales but it was better than that too.  Real.  Concrete.  Solid.

Until it wasn’t.    

The two of you had never had any other choice.

That’s what it feels like, at least.  He’d done his best - tried every little thing he could’ve possibly imagined - and it’d all amounted to nothing.  He’d gone through all the motions, explored every avenue, given everything he had.  It wasn’t working.  This thing he wanted with every fibre of his being, that he’d hoped for his whole life, just wasn’t working.  It wasn’t for him.

“I’m sorry,”  he cries, and he knows you know he means it.  You can read it between every line of his expression, tucked among the neatly scrawled india ink in faded red, underlining the passages you’d written together.  He is sorry.  He’d never meant to do this to you, nor you to him.  He’d wanted to give you it all - make all your hopes and dreams come true.

Sometimes, fate just had other plans.  

Because what the two of you had - so brilliant and beautiful and bright it was almost impossible to look at head-on - was what was tearing you apart.  It was your love that would be your demise.  

And he can’t bear to hurt the one he loves.  

He’d tried so hard.  Really, he had.  You had too, more than he ever deserved. 

There was simply no other option.  You’d always come up short.  You weren’t the one for him - not anymore - no matter how badly you wanted to be.  You weren’t the one meant for him.  You’d fumble for that ledge - held so impossibly high, just barely out of reach - before falling right back to where you began.  The bottom.  He couldn’t stand to see you there, brought to your knees once, twice, a hundred times.  

He’d lose count if not for the petals.

Little ones, at first.  Tiny pieces of silk you’d found on your pillowcase, outside the shower, in your water glass.  They’d been unassuming - reminders you could easily ignore.  

Then they’d grown, velvet softness that made it hard to breathe, that had him rubbing soothing circles over your skin, earnest vows winding like vines around your airways.  Neither of you had had any idea why it was happening.  You were soulmates - bound to each other and destined since the beginning.  Your love wasn’t unrequited. 

“We’ll figure it out,”  he’d said.  Sworn.  “We’ll get through this.”

Your heart had broken with each promise;  his had too, differently, but in perfect tandem.  

(Spring still came, steadily, with a rose garden blooming within your insides and freesias in your nose.) 

It wasn’t his fault.  You would never blame him, even when it was his fist that broke yours, splintered it into a million pieces that cut worse than the thorns in your lungs.  You knew this was just as hard for him.  He’d had to watch you wither away, even as a patchwork of flowers blossomed in the spaces he’d thought he could keep safe.  He hated it - could barely take it.  It kept him up all night, tears in his eyes.  Even when he slept - managed it, every few days - it’d prompt him awake in a cold sweat.

If he’d known then what had changed, maybe he could’ve fixed it sooner.  Maybe he could’ve saved you the heartache.  (Weeks later and during a coffee break with the new girl at his startup was not how he’d expected to find his answer.)

“I love you,”  you tell him, an ocean of sadness.  He loves you too, more than anything, more than there are stars in the sky.  He loves you with every part of himself - and yet he knows now that’s what’s causing this.  He loves you, but not in the right way.  Every touch he offers is wrong, leaving you bruised, broken, barely breathing.  It’s a disease - a venereal infection that seeps beneath skin and bone, settling within the marrow.  It changes you from the inside out, realigns your DNA until you’re mutated and miserable. 

The realisation is devastating:  his love causes more harm than it heals. 

So he stands there now, caught in the distance between you, eyes melancholy blue.  His composure is frayed, crippled beneath the weight of your circumstance.  He tries to memorise your face in these last moments - the colour of your hair, the shape of your stare.  How you sound in the morning - voice raspy with sleep, dust caught in your eyes.  The way you hold him close and the feeling of your eyelashes against his neck in the early hours.  

Jeon Jungkook doesn’t want this to end.  He doesn’t want to lose you, give you - this - up but he has to.  He has to, for you.  To give you a chance.  

Even after having so little - only five short years - you were about to lose the rest of your lives.  

You pack your bags - he helps, folding your favourite sweater (one of his, in truth) alongside your toiletries and undergarments - and you prepare to do the thing that you should never have to do.  You sign papers, dot I’s and cross T’s, and put all your treasured memories away into cardboard boxes to never be touched again.  You label them neatly and dress tape over edges;  Band-Aids meant to hold together the deepest wounds.

You’re going under by anaesthetic and he’ll be here, where he has everything he wishes he could give you.  A love he doesn’t deserve, within arms he wishes were yours. 

He wonders whether he’ll still feel the pull once it’s done or whether his heart will stay there, tucked somewhere beneath the dug up roots.  Whether it’ll be safe, undiscovered like a long lost treasure.  

It’s best this way.  He tells himself that - loops it on repeat until it’s the only thing he can think.  It has to be better.  For you, for you, for you. 

He knows he’ll carry you with him forever.  Like the air in his lungs, you’ll keep him going.  

He’s snapped back to the present, to the small hallway of the home you’d built together.  The traces of you are gone - all the photos hidden away, your row of shoes missing from beside his.  It’s strangely bare.  He knows it won’t last long.  She’ll be here next week.

Your hand pushes against his cheek, thumb caressing along the seam of his bottom lip, right where the freckle sits.  He’s a thief - a criminal, a sinner - when he dips his head, presses back into the warmth of your palm.  This isn’t for him to take but he does anyway, eagerly and with deep regret. 

“I love you.”  Your voice cuts through all the white noise and agony - a beacon in the night, guiding him home.  

He smiles, half-hearted and weak and not even his.  Every part of him screams at him to beg you not to do it, to accept him for the man he is - lost and weak and sorry.  He almost drops to his knees - fights tooth and nail against his aching limbs not to - and brings a hand to yours.  The red threads looped around your wrists fit perfectly together, the ends of inked rope caught around your pinkies matching when his fingers slot between yours. 

Don’t do this, he pleads, without words or hope. 

“I’ll love you forever,”  you tell him - promise like he had you.  “You’ll always be the brightest star in my sky, Jeon Jungkook.”

He almost cracks - seams near splitting, adhesive tearing from skin - when you return his smile and he can see how hard it is.  You’re already broken, all the pieces of your puzzle in terrible disarray. 

You’re trying, for him. 

“I’m so sorry,” he answers, because that is kinder than an I love you that doesn’t mean what you need it to.  Because you deserve better - you deserve it in the same way you mean it. 

So he’ll let you leave and he’ll pray this isn’t the worst decision of his whole life.  

“I’ll see you.”  

He hopes so.  He can’t bear the idea of losing you again.  He doesn’t think even she could fix him if he had to. 

“Be safe,”  he whispers, in a voice that stutters your stare and shatters what little resolve you have left.  He sees it in your eyes - all the crystallised parts of your composure turned to ash.  He wishes he could be sorry.  He’s not.  

“I love you,”  you repeat with an air of finality. 

Jungkook does the same:  “I’m sorry.” 

You leave, ushered into the back of your mother’s tiny sedan.  She helps you with your bags and your seatbelt, rubbing your shoulder carefully when baby’s breath slips past your lips and falls all over your lap.  She meets his stare when she climbs into the driver’s seat.  He tries to read her expression.  Understanding?  Resentment?  Gratitude?  

The car pulls away with a groan, disappearing down the tree-lined street.  Jungkook stands in the doorway for far longer than he should.

He’s moved on - settled down with the girl of his dreams.  Literally.  

She’s nothing like you, sarcastic and stubborn with a staunch refusal to ever come second best.  She laughs maybe a bit too loud, giving him shit when he orders in another car part.  She’d eat an onion raw, if she could, and takes showers hot enough to slough the skin from her bones.  They have a home together and in a year’s time, he thinks he’ll propose.  He’s not in any rush, though, because he knows she’s his forever.  

(Knows it, even though you’d once been that same shining star to him.  He has to believe it won’t happen again.  Life can’t screw someone twice, right?  Lightning never strikes the same spot or something like that?)

Still, he tries to forget the feeling of you.  

It isn’t as hard as he’d thought it would be.  The love exists as it always has, just differently, in the palm of his hand and not the space behind his ribs.  You’re his best friend and he is disgustingly, unbelievably lucky.  

He’d gotten his second chance.  Even if he’d once resented it, he had everything now.  

You still go for your morning runs and he still changes your oil because you’d never learnt how to.  His parents invite you for Sunday dinners;  you’re gracious enough to decline them.  You don’t see it as pity - you just don’t want to intrude.  (It isn’t your place any longer.)  You accept all the changes readily, without regret.  You promise you’ll go by one day.  

Your parents never speak to him.  He doesn’t blame them.  At the supermarket, on the street, in passing when he’s coming and they’re leaving - it’s radio silent.  

It’s been six months and you haven’t dreamt at all.  They’d hoped - prayed - that you’d find someone new after him, someone to treat you right.  You don’t mind, you tell them.  I’ll meet my special eventually, you say (again, again).

He wonders whether you resent them for it - their concern, perhaps a bit overbearing and offered with a heavy hand.  If you do, you say nothing, playing along each time they suggest you meet another friend’s son, another junior at your father’s accounting firm.  You don’t understand the sad way they watch you. 

“I’m sorry,”  he mumbles one night, seated at the neighbourhood cafe you’d frequented on your first date.  Your idea, because you loved coffee and, in your old words, this was your place.  The start of it all, where he’d knocked you hard onto pavement and stolen your heart in the process.

You don’t remember it now.  Not in the same way. 

This is somewhere you come for their great matcha lattes, where you waste a few too many evenings when you just want to get out of the house.  It isn’t the place he’d told you he loved you or where you’d resolved your first fight.  

(It’d been stupid.  He’d forgotten to pick up groceries for your first dinner with your parents.  You’d been so stressed you’d snapped at him, carrying tension into the rest of the evening.  He’d apologised with an almond croissant and your favourite green drink.)  

It’s like a wall has gone up, splitting your heart in two.  The part of you that’d once been Jungkook’s remains out of reach, caught behind a gate neither of you have the key to.  

“For what?”  You quip, a milk moustache presenting itself over the rim of your mug.   

Jungkook shrugs.  He can’t make you understand.  “Y’know,”  he mumbles into his red bean mochi bun.  It sticks to his teeth and coats them in soft white flour.  “Just— everything.”  It’s not enough, either as an explanation or an apology.  It falls terribly short, barely worthy of a participation trophy.  

“It’s fine.”  You say it every time, clockwork in response to the same apology he always gives - out of the blue and vague.

“No, but I’m—”

You level him with a glare.  It might’ve hurt once but now it settles like a scolding from a sibling.  He reminds himself this is how it should be, you there and him here - two parallel lines.  

The guilt never goes away. 

tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice​​ @youwannabelostandnotbefound​​​ @snackhobi​​

[cosmiclatte28]

One More Night (Jaehyun x you ft Doie)

a/n : I am not forcing anyone to read this, this has sort of a sad angst theme. Jae was abusive here and I don’t mean anything to him.. it’s pure fanfic :”) sorry this is in my head and I had to let this out 

warning : jaehyun is abusive but he is depressed and sad, doyoung is your manager. Sorry for curses and mentions of alcohol, cigarette, and self harm. angst 

don’t force yourself to read this 

You don’t understand yourself. Why aren’t you leaving him? After all he had done to you, his words hurt, his actions pained you, you always go home with bruises, but can you leave him? You can, but your heart doesn’t want to.

Like today, your boyfriend called you again to come to his house. Being the good caring lover, you follow his order. As expected, he called you because he had a rough day.

“I'm tired, i'm so tired (y/n).” Jaehyun slammed his third glass of beer on the counter as he sobs harder next to you.

You extend your arm, to grab his shoulder and rub soothing circles there, seeing Jaehyun broke down like this is more painful than letting him lash out his emotion to you.

“You're strong Jae,” you try to calm him down. He was ranting about his life, how his work life in the leading media corporation is stressful and he got a lot of complains from his director when he submitted this month's proposal.

“I am so done with that company. I'll probably get my white envelope soon.” He scoffs when he finishes his fourth glass. You swore you're confused when did he buy his alcoholic supply. Jaehyun never completes his grocery shopping by himself, it's always you but you never buy alcohols… so who?

“Tell me where did you get these Jae?” you point at the bottles and he chuckles deeply “You question unnecessary things peaches, don’t you wonder why you're here tonight instead?” he pulls you up with one swift swing and brings you to the room.

His breath reeks alcohol, his consciousness was below 50%, you were on your right mind until his soft lips enclosed yours and his hooded sad eyes pierce into your soul.

“You love me don’t you?” the same goddamn question. He traces a finger on your jaw and you choose to close your eyes. Staring into his eyes will only make you fall deeper.

“Answer me,” his palm reaches your cheek and you feel it sting. Here it is, his true self is always out when alcohol and stress consume him.

“I love you Jaehyun,” you whisper tears already flowing out of your eyes. This was not the man you know three years ago. You remember him as the sweetheart of the world, not the scariest man who only come to you for pleasure and ignoring you the next second.

“Then be my good reliever,” he slaps you one more time and the rest of the night you only wish no one heard your sinful noise.

“You're going home?” he asks the second he was tired of rocking you. His half naked torso is laying on the bed. A bud of cigarette was tucked nicely between his lips.

You nod your head as you take your time to redress.

“Stay here, you're my lover.” He pats the empty bed side. Oh you wish you can stay, but with the amount of alcohols he consumed and how your body is already bruising, you knew better to go home.

“I have a schedule tomorrow.” You admit.

Jaehyun sighs “Then sleep here, I'll drive you there tomorrow. I miss you,” he sounds like he had sober up.

You shake your head and lean over to kiss him “You hate my agency Jae, don’t force yourself to come with me.” You run a hand over his hair. He leans into your touch, suddenly the angelic heart throb is here again not the demon of the dark side. He closes his eyes after yawning and slowly drift to sleep.

You take his cigarette bud, turn it off in the ash tray and leave the apartment you once love. Your relationship is toxic but you cannot let him go. Not in this state.

“Wow you do know how late this is?” Your roommate peeks over his room door when he heard you enter the house.

You sigh and take off your jacket “Ah Doyoung, yes it’s very late. Sorry for waking you up. Go to bed you still have time.”

Doyoung shakes his sleep away and walks to you. He knows your relationship with Jaehyun. He was there from the beginning until the time it went wrong. He told you to leave him already, but you cannot.

The man grabs his spectacles and calmly takes your arms and wrists then he twists your body to check your condition.

“He wasn’t that rough tonight?” Doyoung still raises from his seat to take the soothing cream he has prepared for you.  

You sigh “You don’t have to do this Doie, I can take care of myself.”

He scoffs “You've been saying that for the last seven months but you never for once take care of yourself if I don’t do this.”

He begins with the bruises on your wrists, the red cheeks, the wild hickeys on your neck and when he ensures none is skipped, he orders you to lift your shirt up.

He always complains on how your waist can survive the dead grip Jaehyun has, they always leave bruises on your body and Doyoung hates how you always struggle in the morning to cover up your bruises.

“You should really leave him. This is not good for your body and mental.” He presses some alcohol on the open wound and you for once thank Heaven you knew Doyoung who can take care of you.

“I cannot Doie, he needs me. He said I am the reason he is holding on.” You lean to the sofa and moan at the delight of relaxing your body.

“gosh your silly job and crazy company.” He hisses

You bite your lips as you stare into the ceiling. This is your job, taking cover pictures for special magazines. No it’s not filled with lewd pictures nor nudes, just regular pictures that were found to be able to comfort men and women who are breaking down and sad. The company did get a lot of money and you have many fans. All of them have been meeting you virtually and telling you how thankful they are to see you. They said seeing you helps them overcome one more day.

You were not fond of your job at first, until you met Jaehyun a photographer for one of your biggest project. It’s for the anti depression campaign and since then both of you got to know each other. Jae was a lovely man who also tells you he is one of those subscribers who wants to thank your cute pictures for helping them survive and stop overthinking.

That comment and all comments and love mails from your fans made you unable to crawl out of this hole. Doyoung is not one of them, he is assigned to look after you but he detests everything related to this.  It’s just his job and the wage is pretty much high and he couldn’t find another job with higher wage yet.

Jaehyun was good until six months ago he lost his one and only family member, then he regret all of the things he couldn’t do for them. He turned into a mess, your pictures, your comfort words, your presence  itself cannot bring him back. He turned into a monster when he's sad and mad. What happened to him scared you, but your heart cannot leave him.

“It's not silly as long as I can live under this apartment Doie. Look around this pretty apartment is good enough for a payback.” You breathe out. Feeling also emotional after thinking about Jaehyun and holding back the pain you're now feeling.

“You have a schedule tomorrow.” He scrolls his phone and notes the time. He is your personal manager.

“I know-“ before you can finish your sentence a knock was heard on the door.

Both of you look at the door and gulp “Who could it be?” your grip on Doyoung’s hand and your phone rang.

“Shit, it’s Jae.” You push Doyoung out of the sofa and push him to his room direction “Pretend you’re asleep.” You send him a pleading eye, you don’t need a jealous Jaehyun at this moment.

Doyoung just follows your words and hide in his room. You calm yourself down and open the door to find Jaehyun not so sobber, but he is here and you’re surprised he could take a cab here.

“I took the cab, don’t worry. I cannot sleep without you.” He nuzzles into your neck and slumps over your smaller body. With much struggle both of you made it to the sofa and Jaehyun is super messy.

His eyes are wet and he was slurring words while closing his eyes and holding on to you tight “Don’t leave me. Come stay with me again. Why did you leave me?”

He sounds pathetic and you actually want to slap him and yell at him “See yourself and think why I live by myself now or at least not with you….” But you know that will only hurt him more and break him.

“Shh calm down Jae” you card his hair and he relaxes into your touch “I am not leaving you,” at least now your heart whispers. Your eyes fall to his wrist that has been healing slowly from nasty cuts and you plant a quick kiss on his wrist “I am proud of you being strong, stay with me too Jaehyun.”

“If getting hurt is what makes you stay a night more, I’ll bear it with you. Please don’t leave me.” Your tear fell and you kiss his cheek. He did not hear your last sentence for his chest has risen slowly and he fell asleep.

You glance to the half open door, of course Doyoung had to be eavesdropping. He tosses you a free blanket and you’re thankful for his quick wit. You cover Jaehyun up and leave to sleep in your own room. What tomorrow brings, you never know. But tonight, you’re glad at least you help Jaehyun overcome one of his dark nights again.

end

i hope no one has to go through this scenario irl..

reach out for help okay, whenever you feel lonely don’t let the loneliness win over you. you should fight back, or find someone to accompany you 

[fandom-imagination-ss]

Imagine: your Father Bruce Manner comes visits you unexpectedly and catches a very Sweaty Bucky in your closet half naked

‘Okay Doll relax we got all night!”

Smiling weakly hearing the sweet pet name Bucky gave you, grunted it was probably Not that “special” too him since in his time “doll” was a common phase. But in the 21 century? Where everything is highly complicated and everything offends something. Like even the nick name “doll” your friends heard him call you that and you LOVE IT! But your friends jumped on his back saying you aren’t a object and you agreed you aren’t but you also agreed that Nothing sounds better then him calling you “Doll” or sweetheart. Bucky quickly apoglized as you had too tell him if he stopped calling you Doll you would be mad.

it’s been a Long two weeks. Steve, Bucky, Nat, Hawkeye, Wanda and the kid Peter were on mission in Russia. You knew that they would be safe. I mean four outta six have superpowers. And you know Nat can protect herself and she’s a badass and she scares everyone and then thier was Hawkeye he was a basically a god with a arrow so you weren’t worried. But two weeks without Bucky was tough!

the Only people who knew about your relationship with Bucky was your friends who are not involved in the “Avenger” life mainly cause they don’t even know who your dad is. It was two different worlds and with your friends and Bucky you can be a regular couple no one questions it.

But if the Avengers KNEW!

If they knew Everyone would have questions, Nat would be supportive, Wanda would want too talk about how it happened. Tony would. Ask completely inappropriate questions , Steve would be silent but supportive. Vision wouldn’t care, But Bruce!

the HULK! Bruce! Your father would Have definitely a few words for you. He hated that you were so involved in the Avengers in the first place . Your Dad Only wants you too have a safe , normal life something you didn’t have much growing up. Let Alone! Dating a guy who was frozen who is technologically older then him and has a lot of baggage’s! You dad wouldn’t be thrilled.

Bucky agreed also, If they knew about your relationship the rules at HeadQuarters would be different for starters, he wouldn’t be able too sneak too your room anymore, because everyone would be stalking the hallways too see if he was coming over, and Bruce would use his massive brain too sperapte you bothd also Bucky very scared about the Hulk coming out and killing him.

Missions are apart of the gig you get it, you were just annoyed it’s been two weeks. He messaged you whenever it was safe but it wasn’t the same you were always restless when he was gone. So when the door opened and you saw him standing their grinning brightly you bolted over too him planting a kiss on his lips as he held you tightly.

both of you were unaware of Bruce heading towards he’s daughter apartment he held some flowers a tradition he started when he visited you at home too give you flowers. He wasn’t around much while you were growing up but when he did visit he bought you some flowers. Now that you see your dad almost every day he hasn’t done it lately but he’s seen how out of it you been for the last few weeks and he was hoping some flowers and too spend the day going too the national museum would cheer you up. You always love correcting the wrong dates. Picking up some beauitful sunflowers your favourite. He walked up heading up too his little girls appartment.

Having Bucky stripped it was always heated with you both and neither of you wasted time when he arrived him. You were ALMOST there! When the door knocked. You jumped high stunned hearing the door as Bucky went too ingore it until they heard Bruce’s cheerful voice.

‘sweetheart it’s Daddy you home?”

“Shit!’ You whispered softly as Bucky shot up as you got up quickly getting dressed as Bucky looked around trying to oo find something. He’s shoes? They were at the front door. You got into your jeans and your crop top that was white as you had your black fannel overtop as you called out “HOLD ON DAD!”

You pointed too the closest as Bucky nodded his head bolting too the closest as you walked off too the front door. Quickly moving Bucky’s shoes. As you checked yourself in the mirror. Oh God1 your hair was a mess and your makeup was awful! Your lipstick smeared as you realized you quickly grabbed a napkin fixing it as you spoke, “Sorry Dad-“ opening the door you looked at your dad seeing him holding fmlwoers you smield as you spoke, ‘what’s that for?” He handed them too you as you smiled as you sniffed them walking too the kitchen, “what brings you over? We didn’t have plans today did we?”

“No- I thought i would take you out- you been so sad and off lately I- Is that bucky’s bag?”

Shit- you thought as you turned seeing Bucky’s Bag on the sofa. You spoke, “no?”

He walked over looking at it as he spoke, “this is Bucky’s bag I just saw him with it- why did it take you so long too answer th door?”

you blinked stunned. As you spoke, “I- Ugh... i was looking for my shoes.”

“your barefoot..-“ he walked too your bedroom seeing the bed was unmade and messy , you followed him as you spoke, ‘let’s go get ice cream- Dad.?”

He ingored you going too your bathroom as he opened the door seeing it was empty. As you cursed softly. Damn it..

“Dad-“ you went. Too confess it was better if you tell him vs Bucky Buck naked appeared from the closest.

Before you could confess Bucky opened the door too your surprise and your fathers as he was still shirtless and covered in sweat. “I- Bruce- Sir.. this isn’t... I love her.”

Bruce felt his blood boiling. HIM! He knew one day that one idiot would take he’s daughter heart that he wouldn’t be good enough. But he was HOPING! The person would be her own age- and Not older then him- and he wouldn’t be a former agent from hydra, Or that he wasn’t basically a walking mess. He was HOPING that the person wouldn’t be a Superhero! He wanted you too have a normal life. He felt his anger raising as you stepped over, “Daddy- it’s fine.. it’s- were all adults and-“

he looked at the bed as you noticed that look instantly backing up as you spoke “Bucky.... you should Runn..”

The Hulk appeared as you quickly called out too Friday. Tony set you up last christmas for safety, and because he thought it would be fun too send you more codes thru the lights. When he was bored. Piper mainly thought safety.. but Tony thought a torment tool. “Friday! Code green!”

the hulk screamed loudly as Bucky stumbled backwarrds before heading towards you too shield you. As you slapped he is protective arm as you screamed, “he wont get me! He’s after you! Get away from me!” You bolted as he screamed, “THANKS FOR THE PROTECTION!”

“LOVE YOU!”

The hulk bolted towards Bucky who jumped out of the window.- the hulk followed making a massive hole in your wall. As you saw Tony flying over as he noticed the scene as he laughed as thor appeared too assistant as they tried too calm down your dad.

Back at the headquarters you sat beside Bucky rubbing his head. It was a Hell of a fight, as you spoke, ‘how- you okay?”

“he has some anger issues.”

“Yea- that’s generic- you should see when i get angry.” He grinned weakly at your lame joke as he spoke, “he broke my ribs..”

“you’ll heal!”

He rolled his eyes as you rested your head on his shoulder, “it could of been worst.”

“HoW!” He gasped as you spoke, “he could of easily! Ripped your head off!”

He rolled his eyes as Bruce arrived he was fiddling with his glasses as he looked at his only joy in his life resting her head on Bucky. He sighed heavily as Tony was squeezing he’s shoulders, “So- I personally want too hear everything!”

Tony stated as Bruce, Bucky and you snapped shut up. As you looked at your dad. “We were going too tell you- but honestly.. we were afraid you would of reacted- like you did..”

Bruce looked at you as he spoke, “how long?”

“almost a year.”

“Well- 14 months and three days.” You turned too Bucky as you spoke “you asked me out in October! It’s July.”

“I was yours the moment I saw you.”

you said aw touching your heard as Bruce spoke up, “Okay! Okay! No lovely doves stuff! Y/N! I’m sorry i broke your boyfriend.”

“thank you.”

Bucky asked if he gets a apoglize as Bruce spoke, “No! I dont like this!”

he walked off as Tony spoke, “he’s protective, those great way kids telling the old man!”

“Shut up! TONY!” You both snapped as he chuckled going after Bruce.

[revirushifaa]

OK HFHEFEFBUEHFEFUEFEBFEB THAT MAMMON ANGSTY DRABBLE AHHHHHH--- ok ok, I calmed down lol. Can there be a continuation? Like MC reborns as an angel but in the meantime Mammon faces his brothers scorn and rejection?? For more angst!!

Anon.... you enjoy putting poor Mammon through so much I see. Regardless, yes, I shall give you a second part of this. Though I won't have the brothers hate on Mam forever!

There you go!

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

Reborn As An Angel

The following days after Mammon caused MC to die because of his outburst over thinking they betrayed him with that other demon unpurpose had been pure hell for the greedy demon, he was faced with his brothers' scorn and cold rejection toward him, none of the six brothers held a long conversation with him, it was just curt phrases and harsh looks on him. Mammon was currently going through severe depression, he couldn't believe himself at all, his sweet human, the one who showed him what real love was, was dead. Gone. All was his fault, his fault alone.

"Morning...?" Mammon said timidly as he walked into the dining room, and only was greeted with cold silence as the other brother's ate, like they hadn't heard himjust walking in and talking to them. He sighed, walking over to his seat.

"I am eating in my study." Lucifer immediately got up and took his plate, walking quickly away from the others.

Mammon didn't say anything, but that hurt him, his older brother going out because he came down to eat, like how he was very used to. "Levi, little brother-"

"No. I got my own things to do, than to being with a murderer." Leviathan got up from his seat and walked out too, in another direction from Lucifer to his aquarium.

The word 'murderer' jabbed into Mammon's heart, like a million of daggers stabbing him continously, he was hurting, and his brothers couldn't see that he knew his mistake perfectly, but none of them were willing to forgive him.

"S-Satan-"

Satan didn't even speak to him a word, just moved out in silence, like if Mammon was just an invisible being that was non-existent.

The second-born sighed, turning to Asmodeus.

As soon as he was about to open his mouth the lust demon held out his hand. "Busy with my nails." there was a fierce coldness in his voice, so unnatrual of him, given how sweet-spoken he was most of the time.

"Beel? Beel, hear me out please, don't leave me, like the others, all I need to say is-"

"There is nothing that can excuse murder, Mammon. And I don't even know if I even consider you my brother anymore. How could you hurt such a sweet human who only wanted your attention and you pushed them away, causing them to choose another demon, only for you to have such a temper tantrum that did nothing but costed their life, I am not even sure how can they forgive their murderer. I'm not up to being near you. Not now. And never." Beelzebub snapped at his older brother, and took his meal with him, going to his room.

Mammon sighed, and put his hands on his eyes, letting out those tears once again. It was official, all of his brothers hated him, not that he blamed them, he loathed himself deeply, and had done a number of cuts to his skin.

"Yes, hate me, little brothers and big brother, I don't deserve any forgiveness... MC was the only one giving me that attention that I wanted to keep hidden and not admit it... it was all my fault.... completely.... MC, I'm so sorry...." he collaposed onto the ground from the living room, sobbing heavily, mumbling MC'S name and whimpering apologies, broken apologies that he didn't have someone to apologies anymore, his sweet human was no longer with him, and will never be with him, no matter how much he cried their name or apologized to them... nothing could bring them back to him.

"I AM SO SORRY.....!!"

The second-born had a big breakdown in the dining room, choking on his sobs and hiccups.

No one to hold him or comfort him, there was literally no one in there, he was all by himself, he had to self-comfort himself once he had finished breaking down, something that he didn't know if he would ever do, his more than shattered heart ached him to where it couldn't ache him more, he was slowly beginning to feel numb to everything, given how he was crying aser? he held MC's lifeless body, the other brothers came and began hurling a sea of hurtful words and they hurt him and kicked him one by one, he wasn't allowed at MC's funeral at the Human World, he stood locked in his room as Lucifer severly roughed him up in there and forbid him to come out for days, until this one day.

--

The next weeks were the same, nothing changed, Mammon was now the outcast of the family, while the other brothers walked in the front together, he walked slowly at the back, a distance separating him from them, he took to eating in his room, the events that they had together, he wasn't in them, he only heard and imagine how much fun they were having, he was a very lonely demon, none of them were willing to forgive him or call him a brother anymore.

"Lucifer? Lucifer, I'm going out, I need to walk, won't come back late." He said a bit unsure at his older brother, as the oldest only shrugged.

"Whatever, do what you please. I do not care at all." Lucifer answered with coldness in his tone, he didn't even look into his direction, only continued doing those papers that he always signed.

Mammon tried to talk to his older brother finally gathering a bit of courage to do so. "Lucifer, please, I didn't mean all that, I was just mad-"

"Your anger costed the life of a human that did not deserve what they got. Are you telling me that your acts should not have consequences, Mammon? That we just should forget this and act as if it wasn't a grave matter? Is that what you are trying to tell me?" Now pinning his younger brother with his icey glare, Lucifer stood up, with his arms over his chest, folded.

Mammon shivered and whined internally, for his brother's unforgiving gaze was sending shivers down his spine. "N-no! I-I'm not saying that I'm innocent! I regret what I did and I don't seek for your pity or mercy, I-I just-"

"You just what, Mammon? Wanted to be there as the show off that you are, not even thinking before you act. Now you see the consequences of your acts, you caused this and won this treatment, you, yourself only. You are the disgrace of this family, and I don't think you can can be called a brother anymore."

The same words that Beel told him before. "You can't be called a brother anymore." Mammon sniffled, tears again pouring out his eyes. "Lucifer please, you gotta believe me, it was the blind rage that consumed me, if I wasn't in control of all my senses I would've stopped at once! Hurting MC to death was certainly not what I wanted... p-please brother.... forgive me...." in tears he begged of his older brother.

Lucifer growled at his younger brother's weak emotional form. " Stop crying! You deserve this and this something that you will get for centuries, do not expect my forgiveness in a long, LONG time. Now stop that, you look like a fool! Of course, you have always been a fool. all you have in that head is just a wall of diminute grain of rice. Reckleness that you never learned how to control. ...Do me a favor and disappear for now, I cannot stand seeing your face."

"L-Lucifer-" Soobing deeply, Mammon still tried.

"GO." Lucifer slapped his brother in the face, injuring his cheek, and pushed him away from his sight, throwing him out of the house, the door was slammed shut.

Mammon held his stinging cheek and stood there for several moments, seeing how he was kicked out from his own house, he shook his head and began running away from there, there was no security or love anymore. Even if there was love anyway, but now all was terrible, horrible, he never felt so hated in his life.

--

After several moments of just running without a real direction or distination, Mammon sat on a bench from there, he had tripped a lot and now had furthered the pain the he felt in his cheek, but nothing could compare the pain that he felt in his heart, knowing he had been left alone, and that he had no family no more. He put his hands on his eyes and wept for only lord knows how much.

Until he heard a beep coming from his pocket and pulled out his D.D.D. thinking maybe one of his other brothers had forgiven him, though once he saw the text and the name, his heart stopped cold for a split second.

MC.

MC had texted him.

His human....

Was this not some rancid and cruel joke from one of his brothers?

"T-this better not be a joke from the others, or I will not take it..."

But then...

"Mammon..."

Mammon's eyes snapped opened and he whirled iimediately to the sound of the familiar voice. "M-M-MC..." he choked on his spit and sniffled. "I-Is this really you...?"

Their hands cupped his cheek and immediately that red mark vanished. They were an angel now, and they had the healing ability.

"Of course, Mammon, it is I, MC, who promised you that would come back to you."

Mammon cried and sobbed in his arms as he held them so tightly, as fearing they would vanish if he let them go, he didn't want to let them go. "O-oh... oh M-Mc, I'm so sorry... I'm really so sorry.... I hurt you to death and... and.."

"Shhh. I have forgotten your sin against me, Mammon, Avatar of Greed, there's no need to keep dwelling in your guilt. All has been forgiven." They spoke with such tenderness, that only broke the repentant demon in their arms more. He really didn't believe that he deserved them once again with him, he was the reason for their death, why would them come again and forgive him when all he was was a good-for-nothing loser that didn't think before acting. Yet, here they were, so forgiving to him and holding him as if nothing had happened before.

"But MC, I killed you... how can you come back to me when I have done such terrible thing." Mammon sobbed a lot more in their arms.

"Because, I have chosen to forget about my previous life, and come back to love you as you deserve, your constant crying in the nights showed how much you regretted doing what you did, you have earned this second chance yourself, my dearest demon." They pet his disheveled white hair which was messy from all the falls he'd had when running away from HoL.

"Oh, MC....!" Mammon felt happy again in weeks, feeling the joy from a long time ago without tragedy happened. For sure he won't let himself kill MC in ablind rage again, he would accept his second chance, show them that he can change and live for the better. "I love you, my angel."

"As I love you. Now let's go back hime and show the others I'm back. " Angel MC suggested they did that, seeing how they had been acting toward Mammon during the past few weeks. Mammon sniffled and looked down.

"They hate me, MC. They really do, they can't see me in a painting.."

"I'll change that, now come with me."

--

Back home the brothers were about to have lunch, when Mammon came back and took a deep breathe. "All of you."

But they didn't even pay attention to him and continued doing what they were doing.

MC then walked in and cleared their throat, to get their attention.

"You."

Lucifer blinked and looked up, his eyes widening at what he saw. "MC? But how...?"

"MC?! MC is that you, really you?!" Levi gasped, how was this even possible?

"MC!" Satan was just as flabbergasted as his other brothers. MC, who died by Mammon's hand was back.

"Oh, dear, you're back to me!" Asmo chimed in, because he had been very woeful over the loss of that sweet human, that he could tell was an angel now.

"MC..." Beel looked on, munching on some snack as usual he was.

"Yes, I am back. And I'm not happy with how you all have treated Mammon, can't you see that he's your brother?" MC said, crossing their arms over their chest.

"He killed you!" Satan snarled, protesting. "He's your murderer and yet, you forgive him?" he said increadulous.

"I can't believe, that you can forgive him after all that!" Levi argued back, not understanding that idea as well.

"You seriously forgave your murderer just like that?" Lucifer didn't understand what he was hearing at all. In other words he was baffled with MC being defensive of Mammon.

"Flower, can't you see that murderers cannot be forgiven?" Asmo also joined in the confusion train.

"Munch. munch, munch, that's been just too pure to even regard dying by a demon's cold hand!" Beel exclaimed, he didn't understand why they could forgive their murderer.

"I chose to forgive him by my own will, and I'm back, that's what's more important than you treating your brother like crap, if you want to become closer, you cannot treat MAMMON THAT WAY. hE'S VERY SORRY AND IT'S ENOUGH FOR ME TO KNOW THAT HE REALLY DID REGRET FULL TIME WHAT HE DID, i AM NOT ABOUT TO HOLD A GRUDEGE TO HIM." They said all those words and made emphasis to them.

The other brothers looked at one another and then at Mammon, who still was sniffling and tearing up. Slowly, they began feeling empathy, that they lacked.

"Mammon..." first was Lucifer . "I know I have been quite harsh, but I was mad for what you did, but I can really see too, that you regretted all that, MC wouldn't have come here if you hadn't. Welcome to the family, again." He said that most to Mammon's shocok, but quickly subsided to joy.

"Yes, bro. I'm sorry for treating you how I did. Brothers?" Levi not being good with apologies, had it hard but he managed to come up with a sincere apology.

"No more ignoring from my part, even if what you did was just the awful of things you could've done, but MC forgives you, so do I." Satan stopped showing his mormal angry face, he meant what he said about forgiving his brother.

"Brother dear, I can forget like cute MC has forgotten, no need for me to keep pushing you away, welcome back, to us." Asmo returned to speaking to his sweet-spoken tone, no longer angry with Mammon.

"Yes, Mammon, you're my big brother again." Beel said that in a truly honest tone of voice, swallowing what he had in his mouth.

"Welcome back, Mammon!"

Mammon was surprised by a glomp that all younger brothers gave him, and much to his utter shock, Lucifer put his arms around him too, everyone was hugging in a group hug.

"Yes, welcome back, to the family." That was Lucifer's confirmation.

"Guys, I promise I won't ruin my ties with you again, thanks for accepting me back on." Mammon hugged everyone and smiled, feeling welcomed in his family once again.

MC smiled softly at the brothers getting along again and took them a secret picture while they all were hugging, this moment was just a moment to remember.