#this one's been fighting me for a hot minute i could not believe the agonies

[lordundying]

VARYA ASTAKHOVA. birds of prey/various.

relentless haides, agent of vengeance, friend of the furies, long is your arm, long your memory. lord of riches, lord of wealth, dark-haired son of kronos, yours is the abundance of the depths, the cold, unyielding treasure of metal and stone; yours is the black dirt turned by the plow each spring, the sun-warmed soil that hides the seed.

—my ocs as mythological figures [2/∞]

[shanjisan]

I am not enough for you?

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x F|Reader

Angst? No happy ending. Part 1?

English is not my mother tongue, so if I made a mistake please tell me, be kind.

"Sometimes I wish she was like one of us, you know, have someone to talk to or fight with. Sometimes she just bores me so much" Said a very drunk Kyle to his other companions.

There was a moment of silence in the large room, and only the sound of beer cans hitting the large table could be heard.

"You shouldn't say things like that, kid. I think it's time to lay off the booze" Price took the beer from his hand.

"That's right, at least I have some fucking pussy to eat when I get home from deployment, who cares if she's a fucking housewife" Kyle's comments shocked everyone.

Ghost and Soap kept their eyes on the shadow hiding behind the wall that led into the kitchen hallway.

You were paralyzed by your fiancé's words, were you really that inadequate? Did he just see you as a fuck hole? Your thoughts were getting more and more horrible, your heart ached and your cheeks felt hot and wet with tears.

You left the tray with the surprise cake you had for Kyle on the nearest small table and ran to your room.

"Gaz buddy, I hope you can fix this shit you said. We're leaving" Soap and the others got up and walked out, leaving the man sound asleep on the table.

The next few days you tried to act your best with your boyfriend, you wanted to think that maybe his words weren't true and it was just the alcohol messing with his mind. Everything was fine until after watching a fight show he said the worst.

"Sometimes I wish you were that strong, but you're pretty wimpy, I have to protect you all the time" he said in a mocking tone. It was the straw that broke the camel's back.

"I'm sorry for not being the way you want me to be, Kyle. I didn't think I was a burden to you for thinking I'm so weak."

"What, no love, I didn't mean it like that" he tried to take your hands but you were already getting up from the couch and walking to the bedroom.

You took a deep breath, you didn't want to cry for him again.

Kyle came in quickly, wrapping his arms around you and giving little kisses by your head "I'm sorry baby, I really didn't mean it like that. I don't think you're weak, you're very strong."

It was amazing how you could believe his words before, but you couldn't feel the same way anymore.

The next few weeks felt like agony, your boyfriend would find every way to make you notice every little flaw in you.

Finally your boyfriend had to go back to deployment and you felt like you could breathe. You didn't have to listen to his voice telling you how bad it was for you but at the same time you missed sleeping in his arms, his kisses and caresses.

You spoke little every time he left but you were always sending him letters and from time to time you could talk on video calls, little by little he became your sweet and loving boyfriend again, always telling you how much he missed touching your body and that he couldn't sleep well without your goodnight kisses.

You were about to tell him how you signed up at this new place to learn boxing so you could give him a decent fight the next time you met. But only a second later a girl appeared, approaching very sensually to your ear and whispering something in Kyle's ear.

"Eeeh, yeah I'll be there in a minute" his voice stuttered, you could only watch from your phone as your boyfriend got nervous for this woman, your heart dropped. "Love I have to go train, there is a new girl who has been trying hard in hand to hand fights."

You couldn't take it anymore, you were doing everything to make him happy and he was training this girl who apparently was too confident with him to approach and talk to him like that and Kyle was just cutting you off for her.

"Fuck off, Kyle. We're done, I hope you can get someone who can get into your fucking perfection, I hope you and your bitch can train like you want. I'm sick of you and how you treat me" you took off your ring showing it to the camera, Kyle's eyes looked like they would pop out of their sockets "I'll leave your fucking ring for you to give to the next one who can stand you, bye."

.

.

.

Hi! I'm new to Tumblr, I've been wanting to post something but my brain just won't come out of its eternal funk. I've had this writing in my drafts since December, it sucks, but if someone asks for a part 2 maybe I'll do it. Comments, follows and reblogs are very welcome💗.

[fatal-blow]

CR Fic - Let Me Be Okay

Spoilers for ep35. I have once again put Ashton into a plastic bag and started swinging them around

--

Here’s another rule: no good luck streak lasts.

Pain’s normal.  The blood’s still pouring, thick dripping off their chin, their lungs, a hot, foreign taste in their mouth.  They would never get used to how blood felt in their mouth.  Felt hotter than normal.  Slimy and oily, just wiping it off left a slippery, clinging residue.

It throbs from their head, pounding down, down along the cracks in their arms, the chest, down into the little minute fractures that they knew riddled their organs.  Everything hurt, everything hurt so much and so all the time that it had become the background radiation of life.  They didn’t remember what it felt like to not be in pain—though they get a taste of it when FCG takes their arm and sweeps away the worst of the burn.

In its wake return the thousand tinier pains.  The headache reduced down to a pressure in their temple, a mere twinge of what it had been.  All the injuries they’d gotten from the fight with Otohan were back in the form of dull aches and bruises, not the focus of the spell and therefore left most-healed.  They roll their shoulders back, stretching their neck and popping one, two, three—and four, there it goes, vertebrae in a vain attempt to seek relief.

In the days they’d spent recovering from the fall, it’d been hard accepting that they couldn’t just walk away from it like they usually did.  The best healing only came if the muscle got used—not here.

They’re no less stronger than they were before.  They think.  But now being strong hurts.  A flex of the muscle ripples agony through their entire body, a cascading domino affect.  Once Justi told them that everything in the body was connected.  One muscles leads to another, all throughout.  They hadn’t believed her.

Now they did.  Reach an arm forward and it shoots pain down the shoulder, sharply outling the blade and hissing down the back.  Didn’t stop there, though.  Reach further, and it goes into the lower back, hip, ass, thigh.  Down to the Achilles goddamn heel if they go far enough.  And then it sits there in the joints and muscles, even long after they’ve settled.

But it’s fine.  It’s normal.  They’re used to it.  It’s always going to be like this.  Always will be like this.  Nothing a little self-medication can’t help.  Just sleep it off.  Hit that trigger point, enter a rage, they feel nothing.  Nothing.  It’s fine.  I’m fine.  I’m okay.  I’m normal.  I can live with this.  I’m fine.  I’m fine.

Another rule applies here: never get your hopes up.

Because it’s fine until it isn’t.  Day one, fine.  Day two, fine.  Day three, I’m going crazy, I can’t live like this anymore, make it go away, I want to sleep forever, get me a new body, do something, do anything, should’ve let me die, just please make it go away.

Day four, fine.

It was a day like day three that really did it.  A day worse than day three, maybe, because they’ve just been impaled by an airship harpoon.  And gods, when FCG cast that heal and they bathed in that one split second of bliss, of pure heaven, it’d been a moment of weakness.

And they’d thought about it.  New friends who will sniff out any damn mystery they can get their paws on.  A poor memory, poorer yet of the night it all happened, where their only souvenir being the giant fucking hole in their head and a mountain of debt.  That’s a thread, a mystery, and Ashton was so certain that it led to Jiana that they ached all the more for it.

So it was worth the pain, letting them into his fucked up head.  A little more never hurt, haha.  They’d let themself see Hexum at the end of this thread and hoped.  Because if she caused it, she could damn well fix it.

That was the thought, anyways.

Imogen’s hands on the side of their face as they’d finally come to something better resembling consciousness was both a lifeline and curse.  They grab her wrists almost instinctively, coughing and heaving around the blood.  The words slur out of them, unhinged and desperate: “Did you find something?”

They can’t read her.  A lot, she says.  Head throbbing.  Blood dripping.  They squeeze their eyes shut and refuse to believe that what squeezes out are tears.  Thank you.  They could have fallen into her arms, if it weren’t for the fact that her touch burns.  Thank you.

They assumed the answer a little too quick, maybe.  Grabbing their flask to mix blood and whatever paint thinner they’d last put in here, as hot as the fucking desert they’d come out of.  That’s a better burn.  It mixes with FCG’s healing, and they’re a little more numb once they polished it off.  Numb enough to put the pain back where it belonged and focus.

Imogen and FCG practically fall over themselves to describe what they’d seen in his head, an awe on Imogen’s face not unlike that as she’d pulled away from the telescope after her first time peering at Ruidus.  At first he’s too busy kicking away the guilt and shame that clung to his ankles, equal parts humiliated and violated, to acknowledge it.  Too sick with fury that they’d been subjected to his mess of a fucking head.

As the rush of blood in their ears begins to subside, they process it.  And they’re angry.  This wasn’t a lot.  It was a dead end.  A universe in their head, a connection to some shitty liquid in a vial.  All the possibilities of their life.  Telling them they’re special.  Chosen.

You’re connected to something much bigger than yourself.  Imogen says it with reverence.

Okay.  So?  Sure didn’t feel like it.  Felt more like a stupid, random accident.  Being in the wrong fucking place at the wrong fucking time.  And they don’t want the power.  Yeah, it’s fun—it’s gotta be, when you’ve got a boatload of pain and work still to be done.  They sure as hell don’t want to be some, some fucking…conduit, for some thing.

They’re all vehemently telling him he’s special.  That it’s not random chaos.  It’s potential.  You have potential, power.  Fuck that.  He doesn’t want to be special.  He doesn’t want to have a permanent fucking potion of potential banging around in his head.  He wants a fucking cure, and it was supposed to be Hexum who had the answer.  It was supposed to be her that did this, her that could fix this.

It hurts all for nothing.  Just more questions that they didn’t want to pose.  More work.  More hunting.  More pain.

They don’t care about potential.  They just want to feel okay.

[dandelionsgrief]

NO TIME TO DIE

The sun no longer existed in my life. Woe dipped fingers begged to entwine within its effulgence warmth, skin stretched white o’re war bitten bones as I reached for her; pearlescent tears marring my body and my soul. Frightful of the hymns of darkness, she kissed me goodbye, fading into a monochrome melancholy. ᅠ

My despair hits me, feeling like a kiss as it weaves into my teardrops. Rose guilt thorns are penetrating through my esophagus, taking oxygen from my jaded lungs. My tired lungs. I have fought a good fight up until now. I stopped breathing the minute I was born, and somehow I’ve survived without it. Oxygen has become a privilege and one I don’t deserve. I’m just a walking corpse developed by my harrowing agony, begging to be freed from my written tragedy.

My liquid melancholy is spilling from quivering lips as I dawdled through the dried foliage and every shade of midnight hue reflecting off every gravestone. Autumn’s threnody; her maple foliage and burgundy, gold strings bloom, adorning my pale skin that mitigated my wax sealed misery. Earthly lullabies and moon cries share my oleaceae, scented grief. It seeps into my bloodstream, ebbing and flowing like the cerulean seas of Poseidon.

There really hasn’t been a time where I haven’t been haunted by these lingering shadows of somnolent August. The month my parents died, and the month where 𝒔𝒉𝒆 appeared. Deep cinnamon rays begin to fulminate, awakening my demons that only awakened her. Her whispers caress against my fair hair follicles, reminding me that she will always be there. That 𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 will always be there, prying inside me, waiting to sink her claws into my innocence.

❪ 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭. ❫

The pallid walls of the hospital room is where my tangerine dreams laid to rest. The doctor sitting across from me paints his notebook with his black inked pen that hold my symptoms of depression. My sheepskin blends in with the hospital gown, and only then do I realize how long I’ve been here. My fingertips grasp at the hems as my head throbs from red paroxysms, coming and going like hot flashes. The drips of morphine and flatlines can be heard in the corridor across from me as lifeless bodies move around the facility waiting for their escort of death. I can feel every goosebump spread throughout my body, head to toe, and yet I still find their soulless presence to be more comforting than this wannabe doctor. I sit restlessly on the chair as a gossamer haze conceals my disoriented face from an anorexic heart.

“ 𝓔lena, you seem to be doing better. In just a few weeks you’ll be ready to see the world again. Live your life as a normal college student. How does that sound? ”

I’m terrified. I’m not ready. She’s not gone yet, please, I can’t be free. She’s going to kill me.

“ Sounds… great, Doctor. Thank you! ”

I could hear my screams from the inside of my body beginning to gnaw at my flesh as a sign of torment. A sign to tell the truth, but truthfully I just wanted to get out of here. I’m tired of this veil that conceals my misery. I just want to find peace, but I believe I’ll never find it. Every moment of darkness has taught me to accept that I’ll always be a soul without a home, but this is no time to die, to give up. For the sake of my parents, I have to live.

❪ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 ❫

The weight of despair is pressed against my chest as seaweed strings coil around my sea kissed throat, restricting my vocal cords as I’m slowly being devoured by my own mind. I find myself becoming dazed as every second dawns.

“ P𝙤𝙤𝙧 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 E𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙖 … ” Katherine chimed, making my ear twitch with fear.

Please, Not again… no. shut up. shut up. 𝐬̵𝐡̵𝐮̵𝐭̵𝐮̵𝐩̵𝐬̵𝐡̵𝐮̵𝐭̵𝐮̵𝐩̵!

I’m darting through the graveyard, batting against the opaqueness that besieged the dirt covered walkway. I didn’t care which direction I was going, I just needed to get her out of my head even if it meant to drown in the nearby lake as messed up as that sounds, but at least I know if I’m buried beneath the sea, she will be silenced forever.

I am tangled between hell—bent and hell—sent, the crux of my heartstrings are languorously yet almost beauteously undone as she pulled on my threads, tugging and guiding me like the puppet I am. Much like Frankenstein’s beast, I’m stitched together from my tormenting aches and pulled apart by the hands of my creator as long as my grief lasts. She uses it against me like kryptonite.

“ It 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙞𝙨 𝙖 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙠 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮. 𝙬𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙢𝙚, 𝙮𝙚𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩. ” Her words dripped like kerosine, burning every inch of my abdomen. I press my palm against my sternum as she has me against her morbid chokehold, suffocating me. My knees tremble as I fall against the wet plaque, my fingers desperately reaching for the sun again.

Another throbbing sensation blinds me, my orchid tears overflow from the waves of her torment. My ribs begin to splinter as my staccato core swells. 𝓚atherine’s tempestuous siren song has paralyzed me for the last time.

“ Your 𝙨𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙨𝙤 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚. 𝙄 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙛𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙚𝙛𝙩. 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙨 𝙄 𝙛𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪. ”

She inhales my honeysuckle gloom while she hears me drowning in her scarlet filled threat. I unwillingly 𝐟𝐚𝐝𝐞 into her cavity of rage and revenge as she colors my eyes with what’s not there.

Now would be a good time to die.

[lilyevanstan1325]

✨ Astral Lovers ✨

Chapter 5

Lily POV

Five days had passed.

Five horrible days.

With my father, the situation was stable.

We had been ignoring each other since the morning of the fight.

That same afternoon I headed to work in a very bad mood.

Not even my favorite music could cheer me up.

In five days I will have listened to the entire Coldplay and Bruno Mars discography hundreds of times.

Yet my mood remained on the ground.

Thinking about it, I could have avoided that discussion with my father.

I sigh.

What did I think I was getting?Assuming he'd let me go, pure utopia, what exactly did I think I'd find in New York?

Did I really believe, even for a moment, that this trip could be the solution?

Did I really think that when I get to New York I will find some trace of Steve?

Am I really so desperate?

So pathetic?

Steve doesn't exist.

I have repeat it to me like a mantra for the past five-day.

Every night for the last five nights, I went to bed hoping to dream of him again.

I've read hundreds of articles on Google about lucid dreaming.

I took notes.

I have tried relaxation techniques.

I meditated.

But none of that worked.

Quite the contrary.

The nightmare is back.

Harder.

Scarier.

More real.

Always the same nightmare since my mother died.

She has passed away, after a long agony, in a hospital bed.

Glioblastoma.

This was the report that was given to us just two months earlier.

The doctor was keen to point out that unfortunately this was one of the most aggressive forms of brain tumor.

The hopes we were given were minimal but the doctors would do everything in their power to save her.

She underwent surgery to try to remove the tumor mass and then began with radiotherapy.

Following by chemotherapy.

At last the woman on that hospital bed was no longer my mother.

A skeletal face and dull eyes were what I saw every day.

But I was putting up with it because I would never forgive myself if I missed one of the last few moments she had left.

The smiling woman, with long curly black hair and green eyes like emeralds, was gone.

Every day she cried because she didn't want to leave me, she didn't want my last memory of her to be that.

She pass away one morning in early spring.

The hot days had begun to replace the cold ones.

Flowers and plants came back to life.

The animals woke up.

While she was leaving instead.

I had spent the night with her.

She seemed to be doing a little better.

She had even managed to drink some soup.

She smiled at me.

The next morning, when I awoke, she was there staring at me, the shadow of a smile still on her lips.

But something was wrong, she was too stiff.

Property.

At that moment I understood.

My screams filled the still silent and empty corridors of the hospital.

A nurse followed by a doctor rushed forward.

Her death was confirmed.

My father arrived ten minutes later.

He found me with my head resting on my mother's lap.

Her hands clasped in mine.

He literally had to tear me from her lifeless body.

Two days later there was her funeral.

I wore one of her favorite shirts that day, the Black Sabbath one.

I quarreled with my father.

He yelled at me that I was indecent.

That I was the shame of the family.

But I didn't care about his words.

I knew mom would approve.

I didn't want to mourn her death that day.

I wanted to commemorate her life.

Remember her for what she had been.

The woman who taught me the values of love, respect and trust.

The woman who taught me to put on lipstick.

And to tame my curls so similar to hers.

From the night of the funeral I started having that nightmare.

And it's always the same.

It's me and my mother.

Locked in a dark place, buried in rubble.

The room is in the gloom.

I only see smoke and fire.

There is only death and destruction around us.

She keeps telling me to stay calm.

That we will come out alive and together.

Then I lose consciousness.

I hear my mother begging me to fight.

To fight hard.

And I do it, for her.

When I open my eyes I see a man hugging her.

He cries.

I don't see his face.

I don't understand who he is.

He is only a shadow but his cry is desperate, from his lips a continuous litany.

"Forgive me, forgive me Sophia"

I understand immediately what happened.

And usually, that's when I wake up screaming.

My therapist used to repeat to me that this nightmare was the dream representation of my grief.

Of the pain of my loss.

The room we're trapped in represents my mother's illness.

I who remain stuck under the rubble symbolizes my feeling helpless in not being able to help her.

The man who suffers is my father, who has become a shadow for the pain of having lost his life partner.

Two years of therapy and in the end that damned nightmare was still there.

I stopped with the sessions.

I lied saying I'm fine.

I was doing better.

I actually couldn't stand being told that everything would be fine.

That I would be fine again.

Bullshit.

My mother was gone.

I would never be well again.

I was just surviving.

I just survive.

But I'm not doing it for me.

I do it for her because I know she doesn't want me to stop fighting.

She would have liked me to go on and make all my dreams come true.

Now I'm back home from work, I had to replace my colleague again today so I had to cover another afternoon shift.

I find myself walking through the dark streets with my inevitable Airpods in my ears.

The words of You Are The Reason by Calum Scott rang in my ears.

I reach the porch of the house, open the door and go directly to my room.

But I stop abruptly in front of the kitchen door.

The light is on and my father is there.

He is setting at the table, table full of every good thing.

Filled with Chinese food.

My favourite.

I look at him dazed.

Almost dismayed.

I take off the Airpods and I clear my throat.

He turns to me and gives me a half smile.

Immediately afterwards he exclaims "Truce?"

Pointing to the laid table.

I can't help it but smile.

It is the first nice gesture he has made towards me since time immemorial.

I sit at the table without ever taking my eyes off of him.

"Truce" I agree.

He sits down too, tie loosened and shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

His hair is smooth and pulled back, a sprinkle of salt and pepper on his temples.

His eyes are gray, hard.

Timeless.

For a while we eat in silence.

His voice brings me back to reality.

"I'm sorry to be like that.You have all the right to hate me"

I feel guilty.

"Dad I don't hate you..."

"Don't interrupt me please" the shadow of a smile appear on his lips.

I make the gesture to lock my lips and then I make to throw the key behind me.

He laughs.

"As I was telling I'm sorry.I know I'm tough and unaffective.I want you to know that everything I do, I do it to keep you safe.I don't want anything happen to you.I lost your mother.I can't lose you too.I can't..."

At the end of the sentence his voice breaks.

I see his eyes, they are always hard but I can see that they have become wet.

I feel guilty.

Almost.

I can understand his thinking, now that he has given me the opportunity to know it.

Even if I don't agree with it.

We continue to eat.

When we both finish I get up to clear the table but he stops me.

"I'll take care of it, you go to rest" he says.

I nod in response but before leaving the room I hug him.

"I'm sorry too, I know I'm difficult at times!You know, after all, I don't particularly care about going to New York"

Lie.

"Brookville isn't that bad!"

Big lie.

He just returns the hug.

He is like that, I don't take it.

I go up to my room and throw myself on the bed.

Even if it weighs on me, I have to admit that I needed this.

His words makes me feel less alone.

Maybe I'm not the only one grieving my mother's death.

With a full stomach and a light spirit I fall asleep.

The first thing I feel, even before opening my eyes, is a light breeze.

It is fresh and pleasant.

I open my eyes.

I have to blink several times to get my vision to adjust and get used to the light.

The show that appears in front of my eyes is breathtaking.

A beautiful sunset, orange red and pink mix with each other.

It almost looks like a painting.

I can't look away.

I know where I am.

In my heart I know.

I'm back in New York.

This must definitely be the Hudson River.

I watch the sun go down completely.

The sky slowly becomes a dark mantle.

Like velvet.

A few stars make their appearance.

I am both excited and scared to be here.

My reason tells me to stay here.

Wait for my awakening and in the meantime enjoy the New York skyline, with all its lights and splendor.

But my heart tells me to move.

Maybe go find that bar.

Maybe I might even see him again.

I do not know what to do.

I just think a few more seconds at his eyes and my feet begin to move on their own.

In a short time I find myself in the crowd.

I try to find a detail that reminds me the road of the last time.

The cupcake shop.

Or the large building right in front of the bar.

The one that had a large stylized A on top.

I do not know where to go.

Without realizing it, I take a secondary road.

Less busy with both cars and pedestrians.

In addition, as if that were not enough, it begins to rain.

I stop and raise my face to the sky.

One drop hits my nose, one the corner of my eye.

One falls on my lips and then goes down to my neck.

When I look down again I see three men giggling.

They are drunk.

I understand this from their staggering.

Two of them are short-sleeved, as if they don't feel the cold.

Certainly because of the alcohol in their blood, while the other is wearing a denim jacket and holding a bottle in his hand.

It looks like liquor.

I don't see their faces because they are still too far away.

I pretend nothing has happened and continue to walk with my head down.

In the meantime, the rain falls more steadily.

I hope they are in a hurry.

That they don't want to get wet, that they pass me by without noticing me.

"Hi beauty, what are you doing alone around here?"

I was wrong.

Damn.

I ignore them and carry on.

"If you want I know a place to dry" mumbles the one with the bottle in his hand.

"And maybe even warm up a little" adds one of his friends.

All three burst into lewd laughter.

As if they were already looking forward to that moment.

I get goosebumps.

I'm terrified.

I cross my arms across my chest and step forward.

I'm starting to think about some self-defense moves.

A nose piece.

A kick in the balls.

They are stronger than me but I will not give up.

I'll take them down with me as much as I can.

Now I'm only a couple of steps away.

I am praying to wake up with all my strength.

But it doesn't happen.

Suddenly I feel a huge arm encircle my shoulders and press me against his body.

The only thing I can think of is that they surrounded me.

They were already watching me.

And there was a fourth man I didn't see.

Easy prey for them.

"Please God, I just want to wake up" I whisper.

Steve POV

After training, Bucky insists on taking me out for a beer.

I'm not in the mood at all but I can't tell him no.

So we both decide to go for a shower and make an appointment in the hall in 30 minutes.

Arriving in my room I enter the bathroom.

I take off my shirt, followed by my pants and boxers.

I open the shower faucet and while I wait for the water to reach the right temperature, I observe my reflection in the mirror.

The blonde hair is pulled back.

The beard has grown, maybe I should trim it.

The eyes are a little red with a slight black shadow underneath, a clear sign that I am getting little sleep.

Over thinking.

Too many responsibilities.

S.H.I.E.L.D.

The Avengers.

Lily.

Lily is a constant in my thoughts.

I can't help but think a lot about her.

To think about when we touched each other and I was literally overwhelmed by a discharge of pure electricity.

The room is saturated with steam, a sign that I can enter the shower.

I put my head under the jet of water, let the heat melt my aching muscles.

I put my hands on the wall in front of me and I lean my head forward.

I let the hot water calm my body and my spirit. Twenty-five minutes later I'm ready.

Me and Bucky head to our favorite bar.

We sit in our usual place and order a couple of beers.

The evening flows pleasantly cheerful.

We laugh like two jerks remembering old anecdotes from our childhood.

"You know Buck you were right" I tell him.

"I'm always right" he smiles slyly back.

"What exactly are you referring to this time?"

"You're the usual modest" I laugh.

"Anyway it was a way to thank you for the nice evening.I thought I didn't need it when it wasn't so" I continuous "You always know what's best for me before I even know it"

"We are o aren't we best friends?" Bucky exclaims solemnly after taking a generous sip of his beer.

"Yes we are and I could never do without our friendship"

"I know, is the same for me, Steve"

I finish drinking my beer and obviously I argue with Bucky about who gets to pay the bill tonight.

Obviously it's my turn.

Oh Buck!

We say goodbye in front of the bar.

Tonight I'm not sleeping in my room at Stark Tower or whatever it's called now at Avengers Tower.

Tonight I will sleep at my old apartment.

When I need to be alone with my thoughts I go there.

"Are you sure buddy?" a slightly worried Bucky asks me.

"Sure pal!" I answer him laughing heartily.

"I'm fine, I just need some peace of mind.I promise you that if I need anything you will be the first one I call!"

Bucky looks pretty convinced.

He greets me with a nod of the head, he turns and goes away with his hands in his pockets.

I watch him until he disappears into the crowd.

I go too.

It has started to rain but fortunately by cutting a secondary road I will be home in a moment.

I walk with my head down to prevent the water from bathing my face, when suddenly I hear coarse laughter.

There are three guys, visibly drunk, bothering a young woman.

My heart skips a beat.

And then another.

That woman is her.

Lily.

I increase my pace and in a few moments I'm behind her.

I wrap my arm around her shoulders.

"Please God, I just want to wake up" I hear her whisper.

I hold her tighter to me and after a moment I rise with an authoritative voice, so that those slimy people can hear me.

"Hey honey, I finally found you"

I immediately feel her relax.

She recognized me.

My heart is beating wildly.

I'm divided by the desire to take her away and make sure she is okay and the desire to chase those guys to smash their face.

She turns to me and the only thing I see are her huge eyes filled with terror.

The instinct to protect her is stronger, I hold her even closer to me and take her to a safe place.

Meanwhile, those three idiots turned their heels and ran away.

Cowards.

"I got you honey.It's all over.You'll be okay" I whisper in her ear.

She trembles but continues to cling to me.

As if she needed it.

I need it.

We find shelter in an underpass.

Our clothes are soaked in water.

We come off and it's almost a physical pain.

We stare into each other eyes.

"Thank you" she says I  a faint whisper.

I can't answer.

The anger is mounting inside me.

I am angry at how she ditched me.

I don't want to but I am.

"You're gone" mine is an accusation, but I immediately regret it and try to soften my tone when I see her eyes fill with tears.

She is in shock and I am acting like an asshole.

"Of course you don't owe me any explanation.I was just worried"

"I know Steve.I'm sorry"

For God Sake my name on her lips is music.

"We have to dry off.Do you need a place for the night?" I ask greedy for a yes.

I'm not ready to let her go.

"I...I don't know.I don't want to bother you, to be a burden" she replies, insecure, with a faint voice.

She is so sweet.

And submissive.

Such a good girl.

"Come on, let's go.Do you trust me?"

I know this is a stupid question.

After all, she barely knows me.

"Yes" she replies without hesitation.

I am blown away and delighted at the same time.

I hold out my arm and she clings to me.

My heart is doing somersaults.

Can you hear it Lily?

Can you feel how you make me feel?

We head to my apartment, in a few minutes we are in front of the front door.

"Here we are, welcome"

I open the door and give her way.

She enters followed by me.

I watch her.

She is wearing a white shirt, which the water has made transparent.

It sticks to her body in a sinful way.

Her nipples push wildly against the thin fabric.

Her legs are wrapped in high-waisted jeans.

Her hair, darkened by the rain, sticks to her face and falls on her back.

I look away, I don't want to make her uncomfortable.

I move behind a chair, seeking shelter from her eyes.

I try to fix the erection that wildly presses into my pants.

I'm not that kind of man.

I don't want her to feel uncomfortable with me.

But I can't help but feel that way.

It is the effect of her closeness.

She is silent.

She looks around.

"You better take off your clothes or you'll get sick"

I curse myself mentally.

I just looked like an idiot.

Idiot and pervert.

"I don't mean that...I mean you can take a hot shower.And you can wear something of mine while your clothes dry"

She doesn't answer and I panic.

I think she has noticed because she bursts out laughing.

"Breathe Steve.It's okay.I understand what you mean and I gladly accept" she replies with a very sweet smile.

I relax and smile back.

"This way" I place a hand on her lower back, just above the curve of her ass and walk her to the bathroom door.

As soon as our skin makes contact again that electrical discharge.

She shivers.

I'm not the only one then...

I feel burned but I try to be casual.

"Here are clean towels and a change.They are not the best but at least they are dry and clean" I tell her, pointing to the cabinet to her right.

"I'm going"

"Steve?"

Her voice, my name spilling from her lips, stops me.

"Thanks.Thanks for everything"

"It was a pleasure ma'am"

Fifteen minutes later she comes out wrapped in my clothes.

A simple blue t-shirt that is huge on her.

It reaches her mid-thigh.

And under the shirt I can barely see my boxers.

If I thought she was sexy in wet clothes...well I have to change my mind.

With my clothes on she's a show to be enjoyed.

And who knows how she would be without...

Before my thoughts go too far I overtaking her and I head for the bathroom.

I need a shower too.

Possibly frozen.

After 10 minutes I'm back in my living room.

She is looking out the window.

She is really beautiful illuminated by the city lights.

She is almost ethereal.

I don't want to scare her so I clear my throat.

"Here I am"

I take a few steps closer to her.

She is looking me in the eyes now with a disarming intensity.

"Steve..." her voice sounds like a plea.

A prayer that I don't know how to answer.

Lily POV

I hear him clear his throat.

I turn around and as soon as I see him my heart skips a beat.

His hair is damp from the shower and his eyes are brighter than ever.

He is wearing a simple black t-shirt and a pair of gray sweetpants.

I try not to focus too much on his body.

"Steve..." I whimper.

His name leaves my lips like a plea.

I don't know if I want him to stay away from me or if I want him holds me in his arms.

He approaches slowly.

Very slowly.

A few inches separate us.

I can feel his sweet breath on my face.

It tastes like beer and mint.

His skin, on the other hand, smells like laundry soap, sun and leather.

As if my hand has a life of its own, I see it rise and trembling, it rests on his chest.

Right on his heart.

I can feel its pulse through the thin fabric.

He lowers himself.

I stand up on my tip toes.

And our lips touch.

They touch each other with a disarming slowness.

A sweet torture.

My other hand reaches for his chest.

His hands go to my neck, thumbs to caress my cheeks.

My head tilts back.

I'm afraid of heighs.

At this moment my mind is empty.

There is only one word bouncing back and forth.

Home.

Kissing Steve is like coming home.

Our lips continue to touch.

His beard tickles my chin.

I feel his tongue caress my lower lip, as if he asking the permission to continue...

And at that moment I freeze.

I can not.

I can not go on.

He is not real.

And if I barely survived at the pain just from talking to him what if I go further?

What impact would it have on my life?

On my real life I mean.

With a light pressure of my hands on his cheat I push him.

I'm afraid he won't notice but instead he stops.

"Sorry...I...I can't" I murmur in a faint voice.

I look down guilty.

Steve rests his forehead against mine.

His hands go down until they join mine which are still on his chest.

We stay that way until our breaths return to normal.

He uses two fingers to lift my chin so that I can look him in the eye and with a look of total sincerity he whispers

"It's ok honey, It's ok.I promised myself I'd take it easy...but you're so beautiful" he smiles shyly.

He takes me by the hand and we sit on the sofa.

After a few moments of embarrassment, I'm the one who breaks the silence.

"So tell me something about you.What do you do in life?"

He looks at me confused, but then he seeing that I am serious he replies in a visibly amused way.

"Besides being Captain America, you mean?"

What the hell is he talking about?

Obviously I have no idea.

Maybe since I read a lot of fantasy books it made Steve a super hero in this way.

Maybe.

I wear my best poker face and pretend I know what he's talking about.

"Of course, besides being Captain America" I reply.

"I like to draw, run in the early morning and spend time with my best friend Bucky.

I'll introduce him to you someday, I'm sure you will get along"

And so we relax.

And the time flows.

Steve tells me about the serum, how he became Captain America and how he ended up from the 1940s to the present day.

Absolutely fascinating story.

I wonder how I imagined all of this.

Ok the imagination but all the details, the details are extraordinary.

Insane.

"...and then I hid in the garbage bin.I was terrified!"

I finish my story with a laughter.

Steve throws his head back laughing heartily.

Jesus Christ is so fucking beautiful when he laughs.

"Please tell me you didn't really do it" he asks me between the laughs.

"Yeah...I did!"

"Oh my God!" Steve exclaims starting to laugh again.

Little by little, as the laughter stops, we find ourselves staring into each other's eyes.

"Tell me that tomorrow morning you will still be by my side.

That you will not disappear again"

I look down at my intertwined hands.

I can't tell him the truth.

But I don't want to lie to him either.

So I remain silent.

Out of the corner of my eye I see him raising his big hand to rest it on mine.

Jesus his hand is so big that it covers both mine entirely.

"It's ok honey.When you are ready you will tell me"

So saying he hugs me and we stay like that until we fall asleep.

When I open my eyes I only see the ceiling of my bedroom.

A tear escapes from my eyes.

Steve POV

I watch her until she falls asleep.

I want to enjoy every moment with her.

For God Sake that kiss.

It was sweet.

Stupendous.

Before her I had only kissed two women in my life.

Peggy my great love and Sharon.

Two Carters.

Great.

With Sharon, however, nothing ever clicked.

I think I have confused gratitude with a feeling of affection.

She was close to me when I needed her.

She went against the law to help me to save Bucky.

She has lost a lot because of me and I'm sorry.

I'm sorry I cannot give her what she is looking for.

And now Lily.

Met one night by chance and I know that if I didn't stop her I would have regretted it for my whole life.

I honestly understand her for interrupting the kiss.

Something troubles her.

And I'm damned serious when I say I'm willing to wait for her to be ready.

I try to stay awake as long as possible but I feel my eyelids getting heavier and heavier.

At last they close and I too abandon myself to sleep.

Close to her.

The light of dawn invades my living room.

I open my eyes but I immediately realize that there is something different.

The seat next to me on the sofa is empty.

"Shit, not again..." I sigh.

Maybe she will come back.

I do not know.

But I hope so.

Please comment, share and rate ❤️

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🔥 Masterlist 🔥

@deansapplepie

[empire-rev]

The Story Of An Under-40 Entrepreneur Who Overturned The Tide Of Making Money Online HIT Over 30 Million (Over $10,000) In Pure Commission From The Comfort Of Her Home In Her First 11 Months.

(If there is ONE proof you have been looking for to clear your doubts about making money online, here is the ONE true story that is all the proof you need)

Did you know that only a few have grown from rags to grace, from grass to grace, from humiliation to honor?

Did you know that over the years the lies that have been told about making money online being a scam is actually what has kept many people in the rags. I mean, no one can be worthily paid by the government or their boss.

You are always underpaid and treated under what you are worth.

And even in the streets nearby you, there are many who are still hoping that their turn would come one day, to get out of such mess of deep troubling financial crisis and make a difference in themselves.

Some others have cringed under unbelievable pain, the agony of suffering, trying to escape the devil called “poverty”, and yet only a FEW conquered.

Joy Chiamaka A., not up to 40 years as at the time of this revelation is one of the few.

Graduating from school, believing in a nation that promised hopes without plans, a nation that wished you good luck on the frontend and yet knew you would end up in the abyss on the backend.

That was where she grew up in.

Fastidious in her mind to overcome the “hell” that multitudes of her peers were going through, she took to the streets, to sell tickets to bus driver after graduating from school.

Now, this was a graduate, who was promised a good job, a good life, by the same damn government that now left her to the streets, with all the fees she paid to get the damn education in high hopes of a great future, WASTED.

What else was remaining but to hang up on life and hope for the worst.

She wasn’t one of those who made “little” money before meeting their golden angel or top-FBI secret or money making sheet, she was one of those that met her KARMA of poverty when she did nothing wrong to deserve it.

But there was a struggle, in the mind of this young girl, there was war, the fear of succumbing to poverty, the fear of leaving her family to waste away because of people who don’t care, she couldn’t afford to let her loved ones go just like that.

The streets became like her second home. Selling tickets under the hot sun.

And let me exactly tell you what this business looks like, because I too come from the same society where she was born.

Selling tickets are for people who probably have no choice over their financial lives, and to a great extent, even their own lives. You meet whoever is in charge of the bus drivers association in your street or county or whatever you call it that rules over where you live, and you’ll given a bunch of tickets to sell to the commercial bus drivers, after which, at the end of the month, you wouldn’t go home with the money you earned, you would still go and submit it to the office and get paid for the “penny a pound” of the hours you spent suffering under the scorching sun.

That was the kind of business that only men, could probably endure, but Joy Chiamaka was a WOMAN and she endured, she took the pain, it was the pain of survival, the pain to fight hard and get across the abyss of financial distress and poverty on the other end.

Had she given up that year, she would have joined the memory book of those whose wishes never came to the dawn of the next day, but she didn’t, she hoped and worked and believed.

It was in 2020, that she met someone who told her about a business online, where you could make money online by promoting people’s products from the comfort of your home to earn money, or by selling your own product or promoting your own business, not one that pays 1 million in 2 minutes or gives you 40BTC in 10 minutes, like the infamous MMM scams, NO!!

This business was one she was going to invest in to LEARN and be taught how to make the money herself, no one was going to make it for her, NO PROMISES WERE MADE TO GIVE UNIMAGINABLE RETURNS IN FEW HOURS. You were meant to learn, implement, eat the glass and stare in the abyss while seeing your hardwork breed results that would in turn amount money in your bank.

The normal you would have rejected it, but standing on the sun didn’t give any better option, so she started saving money and signed up to the course that she hoped to help her life and get her over the abyss.

In her words, she said that there were times she couldn’t even afford to buy a sanitary pad. In my words I call that poverty, no two ways.

She put her bet in this course and started learning.

Were there doubts? Yes

Did people discourage her and call the business model a scam? Yes

Did all those doubts and discouragements come to pass in Joy Chiamaka’s life? NO.

2020 was when she bought the course, and after implementing and building her list for that whole year, enduring the suffering, believing that this business model was going to work for her, it certainly did.

As at 7/21/2022, Chiamaka has niched over #30 million i.e over $15,000 just by using this business model and implementing it just with her smartphone.

It took her less than a year to learn this secret, and she waited and learnt and implemented, few of her success results are purely visible to destroy the lie told about making money online as you can see below:

This course taught her everything she needed to know, talk about:

1. Affiliate Marketing

2. Email Marketing

3. Twitter Marketing

4. Advert creation

5. Traffic generation

6. Copywriting and tons of others

This one magnet course was handed over to her by Toyin Omotoso, one of the few who also escaped the abyss after living on meager income, and I mean below $15 every month, to making over $100,000 every year in his business and now owns a company.

I would love to stop here.

But that would mean telling you about the secret that took a fighting young entrepreneur from zero dollars to over $10,000 in pure profit, without showing you were to get it.

You wouldn’t get this secret at the insane discount price that you are seeing now, in the next few months to come, because over 5000 people have purchased this secret course in the past 11 months, people like Chiamaka, who want an out from poverty, and they are getting results.

This course is a 10 in 1 bullet proof course, that will show you how to purely create your own path towards monthly 7-figure success.

Businesses use this model all over the world.

This course is entrapping many and showing them to make money without stress.

It is the course that the poor have waited for years, the course that the rich have used to get richer.

You don’t have to hope on the government or relation to help you.

All you need is to sign up now to the course, while it’s still left in stock and before it’s price goes high.

You’ll learn everything you need to make money online, grow your business and become $1 richer than you are today:

These are the things you gain in the course:

You will get the 72IG WhatsApp Income Generator — This will teach you how to use your Whatsapp and Expertnaire (the affiliate platform where you can sell and promote products as you wish).

Upgraded Version of The Implementation Program Where you will learn how to use email marketing and PPC traffic to take set your marketing skills on fire and start making money online like crazy,

You will get 1-year free Expertnaire account where you can select products as much as you wish and promote and make money as you wish.

You will get the twitter money blueprint that will set your organic traffic from Twitter to flow into your Direct Message Box and beg you to sell to them,

You will get 50% commission from every course you sell online on the Expertnaire platform (Now, which other place would you get this kind of offer. That is what is making Chiamka her thousands of dollars).

You will receive 3-hour weekly support online every Wednesday, where you get to listen to top secrets used by millionaires like Joy Chiamaka and implement those secrets to get results.

You will get unlimited support in the Expertnaire group on Facebook and Instagram, where you will get to ask Chiamaka or anyone else questions and get answers.

And many more.

Plus, before I forget.

Tons of free e-books and video guides on everything you will be taught in the class

2. Tons of templates that you will use for your business.

Now, this ton of value is the reason, why this course will likely finish soonest, but it’s going to have some left for you to take up on, and set yourself on fire to make money.

You may not have had the luxury of standing under the hot sun and gaining nothing.

Did I just say “LUXURY OF STANDING IN THE SUN?” There is no luxury in suffering.

Whatever you do, this course is for you.

Whether you are a kid, teenager, youth, single mum, parents, whatever you do, unless you still suck your mother’s breast.

SIGN UP TO THIS COURSE AND IF YOU DON’T LIKE IT AFTER 90 DAYS, YOU WILL GET THE YOUR FULL MONEY BACK.

THAT IS WHY YOU CAN BEAT YOURSELF UP IF YOU MISS THIS SLIM OPPORTUNITY

DON’S MISS OUT

CLICK HERE NOW — I WANT TO SIGN UP FOR THE COURSE

[searidings]

....🥺 can you please tell us more about that season 5 alternate ending where andrea ends up using the dagger pretty please, just like who does she end up hurting and the others reaction? if only you want to of course !

hooookay this ask got me to open that wip for the first time in a year and actually it's not that far from being complete! but idk how to finish it and i feel like i've done the s5 conflict resolution thing in multiple fics now like how many is too many? i fear i may have hit that limit. BUT since you asked, here is the beginning of it. please note:

1) this thing is angsty and also it's unfinished, so read at your own peril

2) because i wasn't ever expecting to finish/publish it, i've recycled bits of description from it into other fics. so if you see stuff i've repeated elsewhere no you don't <3

-

The last thing Lena sees is a flash like dark shadow pass over Andrea’s eyes, before a kryptonite dagger slides between her ribs.

The sound she emits is less of a scream and more of a surprised squeak as she sinks to the ground.

If you want to get to Supergirl, you’re gonna have to go through me.

It’s not that she hadn’t believed Andrea would do it. Lena was under no illusion of safety when she placed herself between Supergirl and the glowing green rock in Andrea’s hand. She’d come to terms with the possibility of dying for Kara long ago.

What she hadn’t been able to prepare for was the pain. The abstract of sacrifice was all well and good, but. Reality, this searing epicentre, a point of white hot agony turned molten, seeping through her body. No amount of her mother’s decorum training had prepared her for this.

Something is filling her mouth, thick and dark and oozing. She can’t scream. Kara sits, eyes silver, a world away. Kara. Lena has to move. She can’t. Andrea steps over her, and is that the pounding of receding footsteps or the dogged beat of Lena’s heart? Either way, it’s slowing. Every inhale cracks her body down the centre, each exhale buries shards of glass inside the gaping wound.

Her eyes are beginning to mist at the edges but she strains, listens. The sound that cuts through the haze is not the scream she dreads, Kara’s agony as her veins sear emerald. It’s not a scream, but a shout, and then a blur passes over her like light and shadow.

Concrete cracks, or perhaps it’s Lena’s ribs. Sounds are muffled now, the world dulled down like the inside of a snow globe. Underwater, time passes sluggishly to where she lies, drifting, encased in glass. But someone is fighting the current, resisting the pull. Hands grasp her shoulders, burning where they touch. Through the rolling fog comes Kara’s face, blurring out in red and blue and gold and sickly green. Lena wants to push her away, keep her separate from the venomous substance protruding from her chest, keep her untainted. But Kara’s hands are dancing there-away along her cheeks, her jaw, Lena’s own name sounding from her lips over and over, a siren song, calling her home. It’s raining now, wet spots peppering her brow, or maybe the sun is crying.

“Lena, Lena,” Kara is saying. It sounds like her heartbeat and she cannot bear for it to stop.

“Kara,” she manages, a whisper, a prayer.

Her face flashes within Lena’s line of sight for one perfect moment, and is she green-tinged or is it Lena’s failing vision? A shiver passes through the air between them, I’m sorry fluttering like a bloodstained white flag but whether it falls from her own lips or another’s, Lena cannot say. Then a sudden pressure at her ribs, a heavy push and release that feels like salvation and damnation all at once.

Lena hears a scream, two screams, billions. She is left gaping, open and exposed. Invaded by the air and exalted by the sticky-sweet blush of her own blood, her body purging itself. Through the slick of gathering crimson her head rolls to the side, darkness pressing in around her, eyes blazing with the final image of a limp hand on the ground beside her, veins shot through with glowing green.

-

For a long time, there is only darkness. The deepest blackness she has ever known, all-encompassing. Devouring light, thought, feeling. Lena floats, tethered to her own existence only by the pressing weight of the dark, closing in until the end of the world.

Slowly, sensations begin to blur in and out. Cold, a deadening flow, hooking into her very marrow and stripping her from the inside out. She drifts, and then there’s heat, scorching, radiating out from her ribs in scalding waves, and she wishes for numbness.

For a moment, Lena thinks she sees the star-burst of veins behind her eyelids, but then they are gone and all is black again. Sound fragments filter through her peripheral awareness. A great noise, banging and shouting and exploding. She slips back under.

Vibrations reach her, but they must be sounds because Lena no longer has a body with which to feel them. She floats, untethered, sinking beneath the surface of a dark ocean so vast it surely cannot know she’s there. In the deep, voices flicker.

“Haven’t you heard that you’re supposed to leave the knife in? She’s minutes from bleeding out.”

The blackness turns to blood around her, not vibrant red but sticky dark, the kind so loaded with the very force of someone’s life that it moves slowly, crawls under the weight of it, sucking light from all it touches.

“Her veins were green, Alex.”

An eternity passes.

She dreams of her mother, dark hair fanning behind her as she cuts through the still waters of the lake. The scene is calm, but the growing dread means Lena knows what’s coming and suddenly it’s not her mother but Kara before her, and the lake isn’t clear but radioactive, glowing green, and still Lena stands at the shore and watches her slip away, helpless.

Words float through the haze and Lena wishes she could reach out, grasp them, weigh them in her hands to know the truth behind them. Radiation and poisoned and flared and gone, the sounds making physical shapes in the darkness. She thinks of a child, two dark-haired children, of hours spent pouring over a dictionary. A cruel laugh when she got a definition wrong, grudging silence when she got it right. How she wishes now to be wrong, to mishear, a stay of judgment on the world these words conjure into being. But the focus is gone, and she slips away again.

“—whatever you have to do! Or so help me, I’ll—”

Though Lena is nothing now, just an exhale in the wind, she smiles. Warmth blooms, the blackness not crushing but caressing for a moment, and she drifts into memories of happier times.

A million years pass, a billion. Lena is upside down, and right way up, and no way up at all. If she still had a face, she might feel the pressure of a warm forehead against her own. If she still had hair, the imprint of lips pressed gently against it might still ache. If she hadn’t burned every meaningful bridge in her life in the year before her death, she might believe the trick of a whisper wrapping on the breeze, words of comfort, of promise.

But she had, so she doesn’t, and time collapses in on itself as Lena watches, motionless and alone.

-

Though she has always been nowhere, she can feel herself drifting further and further from the last thing that might just resemble a somewhere. The eons slow. If she were a doctor, Lena thinks, then this would be the time to make herself comfortable. To say her goodbyes.

She cannot look at blackness any longer, cannot bear the glowing green after-image that seems to stick to every corner and edge. She thinks of blue, of rain-washed skies and Kara’s eyes, conjures it into being with every fibre she has left. Wraps herself up in it, plunges headfirst, drowns.

“Like it matters!” Kara says, no, shouts, from somewhere far above and below her. Lena would flinch, if only she still had a body. The voice rings out through the void. “Like any of it matters now.”

Lena is privately inclined to agree. She tries to breathe, but the full weight of the universe, of every universe, presses in. As everything, even the blackness, dulls, there emerges a crushing, cracking suffocation, and Lena wonders why she can’t even die in peace. A high-pitched scream, maybe hers, maybe Kara’s, maybe her mother’s, maybe the world’s, stretching out before her like a pathway. Though there’s no doubt where it ends, Lena almost wants to follow it, if only to escape this sensation of being crumbled, submerged, denied life as its very essence is wrung from her being.

And then a hundred trillion bolts of lightning shoot through her at once, and Lena is gone.

-

When she wakes, she wakes secure in the knowledge that she must be alive. Sure that the pain that had burst through her, blighted every nerve with an agony so intense she feels its phantom grip even now, could only lead back to life. Sure that no departure could hurt that much.

When she wakes, it is through cracked, dry eyes to the sight of pipes and ceiling vents, the bland, industrial grey that can only denote underfunded government property.

When she wakes, Kara is standing at the foot of her bed, hands behind her back and looking every inch the righteous hero, and Lena’s unsteady heart sinks. She’s been on the receiving end of this authoritative pose more than enough for one lifetime. At least her hands aren’t on her hips.

But Kara’s eyes brighten as they meet Lena’s fluttering gaze. “Lena.” Quiet, reverential. “How are you feeling?”

Lena takes stock. Alive, to begin with. Every limb still intact. Aside from an unnerving constriction in her chest and the fact that her blood feels a little like it’s burning her cells as it courses through her veins, it could certainly be worse.

When she speaks her voice is hoarse, cracking. “What happened?”

The same darkness creeps into the edges of her vision as she listens to Kara list the extent of the damage. She presses her lips together, willing away the blackness, registering only snippets.

Stab wound. Kryptonite poisoning. Collapsed lung. Cardiac arrest. Resuscitation.

Leviathan, gone. Andrea, captured. Lex, escaped.

The words wash over her like a freezing tide, and Lena wonders if maybe the darkness had been easier after all.

It takes far longer than it should for her to realise that the room has fallen silent. Kara is watching her, concern etched into her features like tears carving through stone.

Lena swallows as best she can. “And you?”

A corner of Kara’s mouth quirks up. “I’m fine. Thanks to you.”

But she doesn’t look fine. She looks exhausted, her face drawn, blue eyes lacking their characteristic shine. Even her hero’s stance can’t mask the fatigue weighing heavy on her shoulders.

But Lena doesn’t have the strength to argue the point. She rolls her head to the side, joints popping and releasing, noticing for the first time the tangle of IV lines threading into her skin. She lifts her other hand to touch them, feels the warning tug of more needles even as Kara steps forward, arms raised as if to stop her.

Her hands reach toward Lena, or at least, the spaces where her hands should be. Huge white dressings swaddle Kara from the wrists down, so bulky they do not resemble hands at all. Lena’s breath catches in her lungs as she takes in the unwieldy bandages, third degree burns and possible nerve damage echoing through her mind and she understands now why Kara had hidden them behind her back.

The inhale she aims for seems to stick in her ribs and she can feel again the crushing, the cracking, the dizzying lack of oxygen as her head spins. Kara is by her side in an instant, radiating warmth and just breathe, Lena, it’s okay, a comforting weight settling against her hip. Lena thanks the thick blanket for blurring the press of rough bandages where there should be warm skin, softening it into something just nondescript enough to be calming.

When her pounding pulse has slowed, the heart monitor downgrading to a less frenetic beat, she sucks in a breath despite her lungs’ protestation, waits for her vision to clear. Kara is still there, and dread opens up in Lena’s chest.

“You— you touched it. The kryptonite. You pulled it out.”

Kara doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. Just nods, her gaze locked on Lena’s own. Lena lies catatonic, paralysed with the knowledge, unable to move even as Alex enters the room. Dimly aware of low words exchanged between the two sisters and then Alex at her bedside, gentler than Lena’s been worthy of seeing her in years. Just rest, Lena, the press of a button on the IV monitor, and she sinks back into oblivion.

[sukirichi]

earned it [05]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

cw. domestic abuse, car accident, slight angst, sexism, suggestive scenes, unedited and my naoya simping is obvious with this one, 

notes. TEAM NAOYA LET’S GOOOO *sighs* finally got this out from my drafts. anyways, here’s an earned it update while i recover from migraines because my schedule was so hectic last week and i’m so tired, might be sleeping a lot these days hence the hiatus :( also ik i keep saying this but future chapters will finally be more...UH SPICY AND MORE DRAMATIC, I guess? this is mostly an angst fic btw so please don’t expect too much fluff of heartwarming romance. there WILL be romance,,,it just takes some time hehe, anways ENJOY...or not :)

series masterlist

Women were weak. Trained to be voiceless, compliant, and unable to fight – Naoya found them weak.

His own mother was the perfect epitome of that. For years, he’d watched her leave his father’s room with dried tears, wiping them away with the back of her sleeves. When she saw a little Naoya standing at the edge of the hallway, she’d immediately usher him back to his room, her tears replaced with a smile so convincing Naoya wouldn’t have believed she’d been crying if he hadn’t seen it for himself.

Naoya wasn’t stupid. How could he be when day and night, he’s surrounded by tutors, expected to take over his clan and lead them all to a brighter future?

How could he be stupid when he can’t sleep at night, for the screams and cries of his mother, the sound of palm hitting cheek resonating just from the other room, accompanied with the insults directed her way by his own father?

How could he be so stupid when he looked up to his mother – who he believed was the only source of light in the rather desolate walls of their manor – only to see that her beauty faded with each passing day, the brightness of her eyes now filled agony, with pain, with fear? She no longer smiled; not even for him. She no longer came around his room to read him bedtime stories no matter how much Naoya pleaded because he’d gotten tired of reciting scriptures and poetry. She no longer kissed him on the forehead as a morning greeting, opting to stay in the sidelines with her head bowed, acting as if she was a servant and not his mother.

Naoya wasn’t stupid. As the future leader of the Zen’in Clan, it was his duty to hear and see everything, to be wary of everyone around him and to observe. He knew his father abused her. He knew his father hated her, looked down on her, stepped on her at each moment he could. And as if that wasn’t enough, Naoya found out they weren’t married in the first place.

She had been nothing but a mere concubine whose role was to birth an heir. Now that Naoya had come to life, her purpose to live ceased to exist. And people who had no role in the Zen’in estate had no reason to stay any further.

“Mother,” Naoya cried out, tugging at his mother’s sleeve. “Mother, please don’t go, don’t leave me!”

She was crying again; he wished she’d stop doing that, that she’d stop being so weak. He wanted his mother to be strong and fight back, but she’s not even attempting to wipe her tears away this time, displaying her vulnerability and meek self to him. Had his father been there, she’d be scolded again, claiming that Naoya shouldn’t be exposed to behaviors of surrender and weakness.

His mother cupped his face, trying her best to keep the younger version of himself from dangling onto her robes; the expensive, silk material the last evidence she’d ever been a part of them.

“Naoya, baby, it’s okay. You need to grow up strong and be the clan leader, okay?”

“But why do you have to leave? Why do you never fight back?”

“I’m sorry, dear...” was all she said, finally kissing him on the forehead like she’d failed to do so for the past months. Somehow, it didn’t make him feel any better. Instead, Naoya’s cries grows louder with each minute, loud enough that he caught the attention of his manservants who paled at the Young Master’s wails that was sure to displease his father locked inside his study. His mother sent a glance their way that expressed messages he couldn’t yet understand due to his innocence. Strong arms wrapped around his smaller frame until they dragged Naoya away from his mother, the sight of a luggage behind her turning him weak in the knees.

“Remember, Mother always loves you.”

“No!” he fought against their hold. His servants did all they could to not harm the Young Master’s skin, but Naoya was too strong, too desperate that they were unable to hold him back.

Naoya kept running and running, uncaring of the fact his loose robes hindered him from going at full speed. He didn’t stop, even as his servants had trailed after him, desperate pleas for the Young Master to come back falling into deaf ears. His mother had arrived on a nearby bus from the open roads that led outside the Zen’in Estate’s outer gates, her hand frozen on the doors with her head slightly tilted to the side.

That slight moment of hesitance – to look behind or leave everything behind – was what made Naoya stop in his tracks. He breathed hard, sweaty palms on his knees as he silently prayed to the divine beings to bring his mother back, for her to look at him one last time.

But she didn’t.

And Naoya was frozen in his tracks, everything colliding into one crash and burn that he failed to make sense of everything. He stood there and watched his mother hop into the bus, her decision to leave him behind final and irrevocable. What had rung louder then? The way his heart shattered into pieces, or the loud honking of an incoming car that not even his skilled team of guards could protect him from?

Naoya figured it must’ve been the muffled cries of his mother behind the windows that rung the loudest even if he hadn’t heard it.

Until now, he carried the mark his mother left behind; a gnarly scar running inches from his kneecaps that throbs until now. It reminds him every day what could happen to someone once they’re weak, once they’re vulnerable, the horrifying consequence of not being strong enough to face in this world like a huge slap in his face. In a way, he felt grateful for the scar; at least it was proof he’d done his best to run after his mother, and this injury just taught him it was best to face things head on instead of running away.

This scar would always tell him that running away was never the option, and that was why Naoya felt so strong, so disappointed when he met you. Naoya saw much potential in you – the wrath firing in your eyes and the will to fight back is what pulled him in on the first place – and yet you were already trembling on the ground, your sweat dripping on the floor.

“Stand up!” he demanded, tapping his cane on the ground as he wobbled to his feet. “Do you really think being weak will make you survive in this world?”

“I’m trying!”

“You’re not trying hard enough,” he spat out, matching the intensity of your glare. Had you been any lesser of a woman, a servant, he’d have your eyes gouged out. But to him, you were a vessel of hope, an embodiment of strength he could help you hone that he let you off. Still, he felt extremely let down that he expected so much from you, and you’ve been pathetic so far.

Naoya shook his head as he left. “You’re going to die the moment you step out of here. And to think I actually had high hopes for you. As expected, you women are weak and pathetic. Each one of you is useless.”

He didn’t get very far when his injury throbbed again. Naoya fell to his knees and immediately bit down on his lip to conceal his groans, but it was too late. You’ve rushed to him in an instant, already pulling his slacks upwards to get a good look at his knee. Worry is painted all over your features still drenched in sweat and exhaustion, and he pried your hand away, a frown deep on his lips.

“Get away from me. I don’t need a woman’s help.”

“You’re so uptight, you know that?” you rebutted with a roll of your eyes. Naoya watched as you skipped to the nearest medical kit he always kept in his training grounds (which he rarely used) and popping out painkillers to hand to him. “Just shut up and let me take care of you. Unlike you, I don’t walk around calling people weak, and you having this injury never made you weak in my eyes, but you’re not impotent either,” scoffing at him, you pushed the bottle of water to a very annoyed looking Naoya. “At least let me take care of you every once in a while.”

His whole life, Naoya knew nothing but the familiar bitter cold. Being served tea, scaring his servants with his mere presence, the toxic view that everyone was below them drilled into his own head – that had been his life, and his feelings about it were neither hot nor cold.

To him, it was just the way he’s supposed to be.

But the warmth of your hands, the tenderness of your touch to his scars not because you found him weak but rather you cared for him…it tugged at his heartstrings. That had been at least five years ago and Naoya still remembered that moment very clearly.

He couldn’t understand whether he hated his inability to run away or not, because to be around you confused him to no end. One moment, he saw you as nothing but his one way ticket to fortune, but when he was alone with you, he was beginning to see you more as a woman rather than a pawn to his game. Soon, you became more than that, and nothing had terrified him even more that he let someone in his heart just like that.

Did he love you? No, most definitely not. A man like him didn’t know how to love. But with you – every time he saw you – Naoya is confident to admit that he could somehow understand what love meant.

It had been a hellish trip – one he’d never admit it out loud that he wished to never go on again. He was just happy to be home before he laughed, because home? He’d never thought he’d ever say that, yet there he was, beaming at the sight of you pushing your weight off the limousine.

You looked as stunning as usual, running up to him even with your heels before wrapping your arms around his neck. Usually, Naoya didn’t like public displays of affection since it could greatly deter his reputation, but everyone knew both of you weren’t each other’s weaknesses that he didn’t care whether his people could see their leader grinning as his wife welcomed with a kiss. Naoya balanced himself on his cane to encircle a hand to your waist, pulling you closer and burying his face in your hair.

“I missed you,” you mumbled with your head buried in his shoulder.

Naoya’s smile wasn’t any less affectionate. “I missed you more.” And he did – a whole lot. Even as you both made it inside the limousine, the tablet passed to him per the usual to update him on what happened on the few days of his absence, Naoya couldn’t keep his hands to himself. His cane balanced between his knee and the door, while his free hand intertwined with yours, mindlessly caressing the matching rings that symbolized more trust than love.

“How did it go?” he brought your knuckles up to his lips and kissed it, his attention still focused on today’s stock market. “Did you convince him to lend us the lab?”

“Yes, my love, everything is under control. I told you I had it.”

“Cunning little minx,” he smirked at the confidence and triumph dripping from your voice. Naoya shut his tablet off with a click, hauling you until you were resting on his lap. Giggles erupted beautifully from your lips as you pressed your forehead to his, both your smiles equally mischievous. “Did you sleep with him?”

“No. Satoru is still hopelessly in love with me, so it didn’t really take much to push him to the edge with a few tears and white lies,” you smiled at him, soon dropping from your face when Naoya’s eyes darkened with an unreadable – no, unfamiliar hint of worry behind them. “Naoya,” you caressed his leg, “I don’t care about him anymore, you’ve got nothing to worry about. I just want to survive and put everything behind,” you cupped his face and forced him to look you in the eye, making sure he heard every bit of sincerity in your voice. “You know I love you, right? I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth. Him coming back doesn’t change a thing.”

“I know that,” he said, although deep down, in the dark recesses of his heart, something agonizing stirred within.

You were a smart woman – too intelligent that he may have feared you had he been any lesser – who could easily read through him, but Naoya wanted to be a step ahead of you that he caught your lips to stop you from seeking beneath his soul already. He knew that if you looked a little too close, you’d see everything, and that would be the last thing he wanted.

Snaking his tongue past your lips, he greedily swallowed your moans. Naoya’s touch was possessive as he gripped your thigh, seconds away from ripping off the material of your dress. He only stopped once he saw his driver pale in awkwardness, and he chuckled to himself, squeezing your hips to stop you from grinding on his thigh.  

“You’re always so good for me,” he praised, “I might just reward you once we get home.”

Home. Prior to meeting you, home had been nothing but a word in his extensive vocabulary. Home had been nothing but something that carried a meaning but no significance in his living, but now that he’d met you, home felt familiar. Home smelled like rose-scented shampoos, it resonated of bubbly laughter and curious hands finding its way to its belt. Home…you’d just given him something to lose.

As per the plan, you managed to sneak past Satoru’s defenses. Naoya had once said that your secret weapon was not your tempting nature as a woman, but rather your intelligence that sometimes put his to shame. He’d shamelessly announced his plan to use you again with the goal of taking matters into your own hands, looping Satoru into the picture until you have him wrapped around your finger again.

It turned out to be easier than expected. Truthfully, you wanted to refuse. It wasn’t because you were worried you’d beat yourself in your own game and fall for Satoru again, but because it felt so uncomfortable to hold him like that, to kiss him like that.

Each second you spent with him just served as a painful reminder of how he’d mindlessly pushed you to the side from a failed plan of ‘protecting’ you.

However, you couldn’t complain nor deny Naoya’s wishes. He wanted to use your abilities to the fullest of its extent and bring out your potential. Besides, you trusted him wholeheartedly that you’d never question his motives, even if it included seducing Satoru with crocodile tears and a faux broken heart to get him to bend and move at your will. After all, your will was also Naoya’s, and that was what made the both of you so dangerous together.

Standing here now in Satoru’s laboraty, sending him phoney desperate glances as you clutched your husband’s hand, the game had just begun.

He was giving you both a tour of what you could use from his laboratory, and Naoya had kept silent the whole time. The whole drug manufacturing was more your expertise than his. He simply observed everything with watchful eyes, his gaze darting between Satoru’s longing ones and yours. It was a play pretend of push and pull, everyone in the room except for Satoru unaware that soon, you’d bare your fangs to rip his neck apart, and then you’d stand aside and let Naoya finish the business.

You would’ve laughed had Naoya not tightened his grip on your hand. Both you and Satoru paused as Naoya desperately shushed you up, his eyes wide and floating from one corner to another.

Suddenly, a loud explosion came out of nowhere. The blast crushed half of the building to bare rubble and concrete and you saw nothing but black, inhaled so much smoke that your lungs quivered. The ringing in your ears didn’t stop as you wobbled to unsteady legs, waving the smoke away and coughing whatever filled your system. Satoru was right beside you, his long limbs quicker than yours before he hauled you up, checking to see if you had injuries but you were too scared, too desolate to care for his worry.

For your husband laid under a pile of rubble, an arm and his head the only parts of his body saved from the explosion.

“Naoya!” You screamed and pushed Gojo away, taking your heels off before darting straight to where he was. Jumping from broken debris to one another, your feet scraped and burned with each contact, the ringing in your ears growing louder along with the pounding of your heartbeat.

“Naoya, baby, no!” you tried to pick up the heavy slab of concrete that had crushed his body, tears blurring your vision until Naoya’s blond hair swiveled with his dark clothes. “Don’t leave me, don’t leave me, don’t you fucking dare-”

“Gojo,” he choked out blood. You fell to your knees as you cupped his face and grasped his hand all the while, your entire body shaking. His name kept falling from your lips as you asked him to stand up but he pushed your hand away, not sparing you another glance as he glared at the shock still man behind you. “Take her someplace far – somewhere he won’t find the both of you. It’s T-Toji.”

“No, Naoya, please! I’m not leaving without you!” It was too late. Satoru had easily carried you and threw you over his shoulder, running away from the scene because that was what he was best at. You pounded at his back as the smoke enlarged and covered the entirety of the building that had fizzled with chemicals inside, your husband starting to disappear from view. “Satoru, let me go! We can’t just leave him there!”

“Listen to your husband! He knows what he’s doing!”

As the smoke cleared for a split second, your world stilled. Naoya’s face was smothered with dirt and stains, pain evident on his twisted features, and yet – he was smiling. “Go,” he mouthed, hands outstretched far enough for your matching rings to glint under the sparkling lights. “Live.”

You slumped into Satoru’s arms. It was too late.

You couldn’t comprehend the events that happened afterwards. Satoru had pushed you inside his car before taking off to who knows where. All you knew was that you’d left your husband behind, and you stared emptily at the streets that flashed by, unable to feel or understand anything. It wasn’t until Satoru dragged you out by the wrist and a plane whirring before you snapped you back to life, your feet turning heavy as you plant yourself on the ground.

Satoru looked back at you.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you shook your head, “I’m not leaving him behind, Satoru, he’s all I have. I need to save him – even if it means I die.”

“You’re not going to die,” he starts off slowly. Satoru moves to place his hands down on your shoulders as if to brace you, even going as far as to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, but you couldn’t really listen, not when the plane hummed to life and remnants of the explosion still clung to your skin.

“Listen, Naoya is a smart man, okay? You know that yourself. He’ll survive, you just need to trust that he’ll make it. Now we have to go before Toji catches up to us and we end up all dying here!” he shook you back to life when your sobs overpowered his speech that fell on deaf ears, and you cried harder, much less like a little girl who quivered in his arms. Satoru sighed, perhaps just as broken from seeing you this way. “He told you to live. Naoya isn’t asking you to die for him, he’s asking you to live and if you don’t get on the plane, we can’t fulfill his wish,” he convinced, but you only bit your lip, still looking back at the car. You could steal it – one punch to his nose and you could easily get away, get back to Naoya, until he said, “You love him right? So respect his wishes.”

You love him. You love Naoya. He would’ve wanted me to live. He asked me to live.

That was the only consolation you could give yourself as you allowed Satoru to take you inside. His right hand man, Geto or something, quietly closed the cabin doors behind you. He was making sure his boss was situated, who in turn was fretting over you. All it took was one last warning glare sent Satoru’s way before he backed off, raising his hands in surrender and falling back to his seat.

Sooner than you’d like, the plane had took off, leaving your heart right behind with each passing second. The higher you flew up in the air, the number you became.

“Where are we going?”

“I have a base in Italy. We should be safe there for a while. Gather resources, plan our next move, contact friends...we’ll be fine,” Satoru pinched the bridge of his nose. It was hard to believe things would be fine when he too seemed restless; whatever happened between him and Toji must’ve really left a scar; not that you cared. You huffed away from Satoru and stared outside the windows instead, your heart dropping the farther Japan was becoming. “Hey. You should get some rest. You’ve had a long day.”

“Whatever,” you snapped at him. You couldn’t stand his voice, not even if he’s saved you.

The only thing that mattered now was living up to Naoya’s wish, and as much as you hated it, Satoru was right. You had to hope he would survive.

The chances of him making it out were low, but knowing Naoya, low chances weren’t zero. As long as he had a little bit of something, he would keep pushing. You just had to place your trust in him.

Kissing your dusty ring, you wiped away your tears one last time, eyes shut tight as you chanted over and over, live, live, live for me! Live! Naoya couldn’t give up that easily. You both had a long way to go, still so many places to travel, thousand more enemies to conquer and defeat. He promised you the fun was just beginning and that you’d get your revenge soon, and Naoya never broke his promises. So you had to trust, had no other choice but to believe that soon he’d be right beside you. He may not be able to completely walk anymore, though none of that mattered. You just wanted to be with him again.

You didn’t realize you’d fallen asleep until Satoru’s hushed whispers woke you up. Sitting up straight, you saw him scowling to whoever he’s talking to on the phone. He looked grim, long, slender fingers caressing his forehead as he sighed. Whatever he heard, it couldn’t have been good, and curiosity got the best of you before you could help it.

“What is it?” Satoru stilled at the sound of your voice, having not expected you to be awake. He refused to meet your eyes as he shut his phone. It angered you further and you stalked his way, slapping a palm down the table before him. “I said, what is it?”

“It’s Naoya...” he said through clenched teeth, still refusing to look you in the eye. “He didn’t make it.”

notes. team naoya...let’s go...cry 😭 when I said I would write more gojo x reader scenes and that they’re still the pairing, I meant it, I just had to take a dark route anyways DO YOU GUYS UNDERSTAND WHY IT TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO UPDATE THIS, I DIDN’T WANT TO DO THIS TO NAOYA BAE 😭 but on the bright side, italy arc is gonna be SHEESH

taglist open (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @sixeyesgojo @shingekiyofeels @q-the-rockaholic @whatthefuckisthatthing @rogueofbullshit @kat-su-ki @kellyyween @sebootyforlife @asshxcm @charlie-xo @aoi-turtle @ladywaifuuwrites @savantsoulfinder @my-reality-is-in-my-head @hannya-quinn @90s-belladonna @tinyfrogsinmybrain @kinekyuroo @evesmores @ambiguous-something @lilith412426 @kakashiharusohma @aizawap @yumeneji @dora-the-grownup @jotazinha @themrsgojo @d34r-s4t4n @marai-t @toji-bee @hai-cool @badsadbby @stesphy @peach-buns-unicorns @misslezah @riri-marley @gracefullyfallinglikeanime @iwaplant​ @mikiminaccch​ | bolder users cannot be tagged

[thescarletwitchsapprentice]

A Pure Soul: Nearly Taken (Yandere!Wanda Maximoff x ADD!autistic!reader)

*Not my GIF.

Summary: The day (y/n) comes back to the compound after being told all those nasty things takes a toll on their mental health and self-esteem. Unfortunately it gets to a point that Wanda hoped it would NEVER reach.

Request?: Still none.

Word Count: 3,456

Warnings: Ableism, eugenics mention, r-word slur, attempted suicide, attempted overdose, hurt and comfort.

Notes: This is a sort of “in-between scene” from “A Pure Soul.” The rate of suicide is 3 times higher in autistic people because of the world’s lack of understanding and willingness to accommodate us. Plus being told the world would be better off without you, along with people looking for ways to make sure we’re not born....that’s gonna take a toll. So it makes sense for these feelings to emerge.

=============================================

You know that the world isn’t very kind to the disabled.

You know that the world wishes people like you wouldn’t exist.

But that doesn’t make what happened hurt any less.

You were out shopping when you ran into your best friend from high school. Except....this friend wasn’t the same as you knew them. No, instead they showed you their true colors.

“Oh hey, (y/n),” they said.

Tone has never been your specialty.

“Hey!” you exclaimed happily as you were looking through the books at your local bookstore. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you! How are you?”

“Better. How’s the treatment coming along?”

This confused you.

“Treatment?”

They nodded.

“For that disease you call autism.”

This struck a chord, and it struck HARD. How could they say something like that?!

“D-disease?!”

They smirked.

“I mean, it just makes us humans lives harder to be around your kind.”

What?!

“What the hell’s gotten into you?!” you exclaimed. “I thought you were my best friend!”

“Oh?”

They pretended to wrack their brain.

“Oh! Yeah, I was such a great actor in that part. I should get an Oscar. Here’s the tea; I lost a bet and had to be your best friend for those four hellish years. I can’t believe they wanted me to suffer that much.”

Your heart began to crack. It was all....an act?

“You took my high school years away from me, made me miserable. I could’ve won prom royalty, but no one voted for me because I associated myself with your species. I’m glad you’re out of my life now. You’re nothing but a burden and the world would be so much better off without you. Why not do us that favor?”

Your heart shattered. You were so plagued with shock that you didn’t notice them push you to the ground and spit on you before walking away with a satisfied chuckle. For the next few minutes, you couldn’t say or do anything. You were just frozen to the spot, their words bouncing around your head.

Finally you were able to feel both the physical and emotional pain. Pursing your lips, you got up, kept your head down, and quickly left the bookstore, trying not to let the tears fall.

===============================================

In the elevator, heading up to your floor, you can barely form a new thought. All you can think of is that hurtful interaction. 

Burden, your kind, your species, disease....

It all hurt. 

And the worst part is that you can’t help but think that they’re right.

But your thoughts are jolted by the elevator bell. As usual you find the Avengers hanging out in the lounge. Nat and Clint are chatting with Wanda. Tony and Peter are working on homework. You can barely see what the others are doing. 

Almost instantly, Wanda’s eye falls on you. She has a smile on her face, but it falls when she sees you, as she instantly knows that something is wrong. 

“(Y/N)!” she whispers worried.

She rushes over and gives you a gentle hug, but you practically squeeze the life out of her. The other Avengers also come to your aid. 

“What happened?” Wanda asks you.

You gulp as she and Nat lead you to the couch.

“I....” you begin as you sit down. “I was out shopping....and I ran into my best friend from high school....”

You tell them the entire interaction. Shocked looks are nearly all around by the end.

“That’s seriously messed up,” Nat says in a mix of disgust and anger.

The others nod in agreement, except for Wanda. Instead she begins to tear up. 

“My sweet angel,” she weeps softly as she hugs you closer and pets your head. “Oh, my sweet, sweet angel. None of what they said is true, not one bit of it. You’re an absolute joy to have around and you’re one of the kindest souls I’ve ever met. You bring so much to the Avengers and to our lives. Autism is not a disease. It’s a part of who you are, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

“Wanda’s right,” Peter nods. “You’re wonderful, (y/n). You’re one of the best friends I could ever ask for.”

“And you bring a lot of new perspectives,” Nat adds. “You came into our lives when we needed you the most, especially Wanda.”

They all take turns giving you words of comfort and encouragement as well as letting you cry. Wanda stays the closest to you, to no one’s surprise, hugging you tightly. Her embrace is exactly what you need right now; so warm and loving. 

Tony, though not the most emotional person, does feel sympathetic and even angered at the person who said that to you; even though you’re on the opposite side of the Accords, he decides to get your favorite food for dinner. It’s not the greatest gesture of sympathy, but it’s definitely something. After that, you take a nice, warm shower and get into some fresh, soft pajamas. Wanda’s waiting for you in your bedroom, and surprises you with some soft socks that match your pajamas.

“I removed the fabric tags too,” she tells you.

Your heart melts a bit more for her. How someone as kind, attentive, and loving as her could ever be considered a terrible person is beyond you. You let her put them on your feet and they feel amazing. You wriggle your toes in them, smiling. 

“You like them?” she asks you.

“I love them,” you giggle before turning to Wanda. “And I love you.”

She smiles and gives you a kiss on the forehead.

“I love you too, my angel.”

The two of you spend the rest of the night together, cuddling up close with one another, watching sitcoms, singing quietly. You doze off in her arms.....

But that doesn’t mean it’s over.....

==============================================

You’re not someone who easily forgets how things make you feel, and what that person said still makes you feel like shit. Now whenever you go out, you’re worried that you’re going to run into them. You keep your guard up and walk as quickly as you can. Every outing feels like a fight for survival, but you try to stay strong so that you don’t bother the others. You try to keep a smile on your face. You need to be strong.....

.....But even the strong reach their limits.

It’s a little after you found out they became catatonic. You’re at a coffee shop, nearly empty, when someone else walks in. It’s a friend of that person. You keep your head low as they place their order; four cups of black coffee, extra hot. Your anxiety is increasing, but you don’t want this person to think you’re weak. You keep your back to them, hearing the door open again. 

The other person is called for their order. Maybe you can finally get out of here.

The next thing you know, you feel something steaming hot being poured down the back of your shirt, on your head, thrown in your face, (which you luckily cover most of with your arms) and splattered on your arms and legs. Standing up, you cry out in pain as you whirl around to see 4 people from high school, among them the friend of your former best friend.

“It’s your fault my best friend can’t function, you retard!” the friend snaps as they push you around roughly.

“No one wants you on this planet,” spits another.

“You’re nothing but a parasite!”

“You just weigh people down!”

“You’re an embarrassment to society!”

“Why don’t you just end this?”

“It’ll be better that way!”

“Your birth was a mistake!”

By this time, you’re hardly a thread’s width away from a meltdown and you look at the cashier for help, but nothing. You try to take out your phone to call for help, but you end up slipping on the coffee, falling to the ground hard and in an odd position, hearing a crack. Pain surges through your body as you look at your arms; burn marks are beginning to form.

After they kick at you for a bit and spit on you, they leave. You look up at the cashier. 

“Why....didn’t you help?” you whimper with a whistle in your voice.

No answer. 

They don’t help you up either. Crawling to the door, you use a nearby booth to bring yourself back up to your feet. Suddenly you feel an intense surge of pain in your left leg, and not just from the burns. You look to see that it’s swollen and turning reddish-purple. You reach into your coat and get out your phone only to discover that it’s dead. Wanda’s going to be worried sick....you hate making her worry, and she’s been worried sick these last few weeks to the point where it’s taking a toll on her; so on the way back, you decide to take one worry out of her life for good.

======================

It’s dark when you get back to the compound. And lucky for you, the elevator is closed for repairs. You limp up the stairs, finally reaching the compound. As quiet as a dust mite, you open the door, biting down on your lips to keep yourself from crying out in pain; unfortunately, your lips took some burn damage as well. Limping to the bathroom, you shut and lock the door. You search the medicine cabinet and find some pills.

“This should do the trick,” you whisper.

You try to quietly position yourself on the floor so that you won’t hit your head. You want to be able to pass as peacefully as possible. But something gives in your left leg and you fall, letting out a loud cry of agony. Realizing your mistake, you quickly fiddle with the lid of the bottle as you hear footsteps rush in. You finally get the lid open and begin to pour out the whole bottle into your hand, hoping to get it in in time--

Click!

The lock turns scarlet, clicks, and the door swings opens. 

“(Y/N)!”

A terrified Wanda immediately snatches the pills and bottle from you with her powers. She makes them disappear before heading to your side, tears already flowing from her eyes.

“My sweet angel.....” she squeaks as she kneels in front of you gently taking ahold of your hands. “I didn’t realize you were feeling this terrible. I’m so sorry things have reached this point.”

You look away guiltily. 

“No, I’m sorry....it’s my fault. I never said....anything. You....you’ve been so stressed these past few weeks....all of you. I didn’t want to make it worse on you, so....I just kept quiet.”

Wanda shakes her head.

“You have nothing to apologize for, (y/n). It can be scary, but there’s no shame in reaching out. We all need help sometimes.”

Other footsteps rush in.

“What happened?” Nat asks. “Did (y/n)---?”

“Almost,” Wanda gulps. “We need to get them to the emergency room.”

“I’m fine,” you lie.

“Are you fine?” Wanda asks.

You realize that it’s pointless to lie, and you shake your head.

“No, I’m not....”

“Then we need to take you to the emergency room.....”

That’s when she sees the burns and leg.

“Especially to treat these.....what happened?”

As they carry you to the car, you tell them about the run-in at the coffee shop, them pouring the hot coffee on you, how they were telling you all of these things, how the cashier did nothing to help, how you heard that crack. Both of them are disgusted and horrified at those monsters.

“I don’t care what they say,” Nat tells you as they get you inside. “I’m glad that you’re here.”

“I am too,” Wanda agrees as she gets in the front seat. “We’re here for you.”

“But.....my autism.....”

Wanda gently takes ahold of your fingers, careful to avoid the burns.

“My angel.....I can only imagine how isolating it feels to be in a world that’s not made for you, but your autism is part of who you are. It’s what makes you unique. If the world refuses to accommodate for people like you on their own, we’ll help them to see that they need to, and we’ll help advocate with you.”

Nat nods as she starts the car up and the three of you head for the ER.

“I....I feel selfish worrying you like this and even attempting....I just thought....you’ve been so stressed and I thought it’d be better to take one worry out of your life.”

“You have nothing to feel selfish about,” Wanda assures you. “What you did wasn’t selfish. You’re in pain, and wanting to do something to stop that pain isn’t selfish. But there are better ways to deal with the pain, and I want to help you with those. (Y/N), I can say with 100% certainty that I’m glad to have you in my life, through the good and the bad.”

Tears flow down your face as the three of you silently drive to the ER.

=============================================

It takes several hours for you to be treated, along with a few more hours of consultation for your mental health. Some of the burns are treated through surgery, so you have to stay for a little over a week to make sure you recover and stabilize. Your leg is put in a cast, and Wanda comes to visit you everyday. You feel much better with her and Nat.

A psychologist comes in to discuss a safety plan with you. You decided to ask Wanda if she’d come and discuss it with them. She said yes and Nat also decided to help. You all work out what works in terms of coping mechanisms, people you can talk to, calming techniques, etc,. The psychologist also recommends regular counseling. Wanda asks if there are any remote options for counseling, as it’s going to be difficult for you to get there with your leg, (Also, she’s a little worried that the therapist might try to take you away from her, but she does show concern for your leg) and to her relief, there is. 

You’re discharged after about a week, but you’re not to be left alone for a few days to another week or two, just to be sure. Well, it’s more of Wanda’s recommendation than psychologist’s orders, but the psychologist also thinks that that could be a good idea. You’re not really complaining; it’s more time to spend with Wanda. And she’s certainly not complaining either.

For that time, especially, she makes sure you know that you’re loved, wanted, valued. She practically dotes on you; as if she hadn’t been doting on you before, she’s especially pampering you now. The other Avengers also get the 411, and decide to help. If you need pain or sleep medications, one of them brings the proper dose to you. They take turns spending time with you and getting to know you more. If they need to go out on a mission, Wanda volunteers to stay with you, but if she’s absolutely needed there, she entrusts your care to Vision, a robot who’s exceptionally caring. You and Wanda regularly discuss possibly adding him to the relationship, but you’re not sure if she’s being serious or not. 

On one night, Wanda’s caring for you. After applying the prescribed cream on your burns, she helps you find an oversized t-shirt to wear as PJs. 

“This one’s softer than the others,” you note.

“I went looking for a shirt with a softer material than normal,” she tells you as she prepares a small dose of melatonin for you, one that you’ve been taking to combat the nightmares of those events in the hospital. “I know how much it tends to make you feel discomforted if there is one. I also made sure it was a tagless shirt.”

You smile and sigh.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve an angel like you, Wanda,” you tell her.

Hearing this she smiles and blushes.

“If anyone’s the angel, it’s you,” she says as she gives you the melatonin. “You’ve been there for me even when I’m at my absolute worst.”

“So have you.”

You take the melatonin before Wanda brings you your toothbrush and toothpaste. You brush thoroughly before spitting it into a cup that Wanda disposes of. 

“You know, I could go to the bathroom and do this myself,” you tell her kindly.

“I know,” she sighs. “I’m just worried, my angel.”

“What if I wash my face tonight with the door open?” you suggest.

Wanda gives this a little thought and nods. 

“I can work with that.”

Using your crutches, you walk to the bathroom where you sit on a stool in front of the sink. You wash and dry your face before heading to the bed with Wanda helping you get tucked in.

“You’re seriously an angel,” you tell her. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone outside of my family that’s been as concerned about my well-being as you.”

“And you’re too sweet,” she smiles again as she finishes getting ready for bed herself. “If anyone’s the undeserving, I don’t deserve you.”

“No, it’s the other way around,” you say.

“No, I’m certain I’m right.”

You giggle.

“Wanda, if we try to prove one right over the other, we’ll be going at this all night.”

She smiles as she goes over to the other side of the bed. 

“Well, I know you’re an angel,” she tells you as she gets under the covers. “You came to me in a dark time, and you shone a beam of sunlight through the shadow.”

The two of you look at each other as the fairy lights hang above you. Of course you’re looking at the bridge of her nose, but you can’t help but glance up at her eyes a few times; one time they catch you, and they are stunning. They’re like emeralds to you; vivid, entrancing, mystical. Just a single glance, and you know there’s so much to know about, so much to discover, and you become lost in them. 

“I’m so proud of you, (y/n).”

Wanda’s gentle voice echoes against your eardrums and dances around your mind, soothing you into drifting even more. But then she boops you on the nose, making it twitch like a bunny’s and snapping you out of your trance.

“Huh?” you ask, looking lost.

Wanda giggles.

“You are too cute,” she tells you. “I was saying that I’m so proud of you for pushing through all of this. It’s not the easiest thing to do, and.....well.....I’m glad you’re still alive, my sweet little sunbeam.”

You blush upon hearing this and turn away, but Wanda gently redirects your face forward.

“There’s no need to hide, my angel. I want to see your lovely face.”

At that moment, you begin to feel drowsy and bring yourself closer to her.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you enough, Wanda,” you sigh.

She brings you in closer and you melt into her embrace.

“Being with you, and you being safe and happy and alive.....that’s the only thank you I need.”

Leaning in, she kisses you gently on your forehead and you shyly return one on her cheek. 

“Goodnight, my angel,” she tells you as she brushes a strand of hair out of your way.

“Wait,” you say as she turns to switch the lights off. “Will....will you sing me those lullabies again? Please?”

“Of course,” she smiles. 

Turning the lights off, she returns to embrace you and softly sings the Sokovian lullabies her parents used to sing to her. As you drift off to sleep, you don’t know what’s going on in her mind. What’s going on with her mind? Her master plan, of course. Tonight’s the night she will finish what she started. Those monsters at the coffee shop messed with the wrong person. For the past few nights, she’s been paying them visits, doing the same things she did with your former best friend, and sending subconscious suggestions for them to gather in one place, thinking they’d be safer together. And now they have.

Tonight she’s going to make sure their minds are gone for good, but not before making them feel the pain and agony she imagines you felt. Her anger with them is in full throttle, so it’s going to be even worse for them. Telekinesis, fear projection, hypnosis, inducing extreme fear, she’ll do whatever she has to. Wanda will not leave until they’re nothing more than hollow husks, shadows of their former selves. With how they’d been acting on those nights, and how much Wanda has done so far, it won’t take too long. 

Because no one-and she means no one-gets away with hurting her precious angel.......ever.

[wonhosbuttflower]

Hurts Like Hell

Pairing: Demon Chan x Human Reader (fem)

Genre: Demon AU; Fluff; Light Angst; starts as Suggestive and ends with Smut; “Fuckbuddies/Friends with benefits to lovers”.

Words: 6,1k

Summary:  You (human) and Chan (demon) are “friends with benefits"/”fuck buddies” and you both have other casual sexual partners, but you only have a true emotional bond with each other. Admitting to it is a different story though...

Warnings/Details: open relationship (context/mention); promiscuity (mention); cursing/offensive language; possessiveness; dry humping and choking (blink and you’ll miss it); unprotected sex (please wrap it up, guys, this is NOT a good example, practice safe sex, use a condom); lots and lots of ‘I love you’; cringey moments.

Note: Chan is an incubus, a sex demon blessed with lust, one of the seven deadly sins. The reader is human, but she has been blessed by a demon at birth, in this case, Lucifer. He blessed her with pride, another deadly sin, corrupting her soul with it but making her stronger than “normal” humans. Unlike humans, demons don’t have souls, but they have “auras”, which are their demonic personal essences.

Y/N – your name / Y/M/N – your middle name (if you have one) / Y/L/N – your last name

..................................................................................

He sits comfortably on the black armchair in the bedroom while you're on top of him, sitting facing him with your legs swinging over the edge. The make out session had started out hot and heavy, but it was turning into a softer and tamer one as time went by. What had started passionate and impatient had turned into an intimate moment of pure affection between you two. Eventually, you rest your face on his shoulder, taking in his scent as he holds you firmly in a warm hug. You both close your eyes and enjoy the feeling of simply being together. After about a minute, which seems like hours, he breaks the silence in the room.

'Can we just stay like this forever?', he asks in a low voice as he plants a playful kiss on your nose, which makes you scrunch before showing him a smile.

'Hmm, excuse me, who are you and have you done to Chan?', you let out jokingly without opening your eyes.

'What? This is nice.', he defends himself. You look up at him.

'Oh, don’t get me wrong, I love doing fun things with you, baby… It’s my favorite activity.’, he smirks. ‘But we always do that… I’m just saying, it’s nice to have a moment like this every now and then, to relax and just… I don’t know, to just be with you, doing absolutely nothing.’, he adds, grabbing your hand that was touching him and intertwining his fingers with yours.

'Yeah, it is, actually. But wouldn't you rather do other things forever? Like, fun things… Because I can think of a few things for us to do.’, you say, suggestively, slipping your hand under the fabric of his t-shirt to feel his abs.

‘Okay, now I’m officially worried. Since when would you choose to “do absolutely nothing” rather than having sex with the hottest girl in town?’, you joke.

‘Well, I get to be with you either way, so I win.’, he smiles and gives you a soft kiss. ‘What’s wrong with just staying like this for a while? You like it too, don’t even try to deny it.’

‘Sure, I like it… But you’re acting weird today. Actually, scratch that… You’ve been acting weird lately. So, what’s that about, what’s going on?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, I don’t know, we just… You’ve just been really… hmm, nice, I guess. Like, you’ve been… sweet.’, you explain, making him chuckle.

‘Isn’t that a good thing? Why do you sound like you’re complaining? Do you not like it when I’m nice?’

‘I don’t know… I mean, I do, but it’s weird. I feel like something’s changing, and I don’t understand it. Sometimes I think you’re avoiding me or something. And now you’re passing on sex for a cute hug? You have to admit that’s kind of suspicious. Like, it’s fine, if you don’t want to do this, we…’

‘It’s not that, princess, I promise you.’, he cuts you off before you can finish.

‘Then, what’s the problem?’, you ask, letting go of his hand and rising up from where you laid against his chest to face him, hooking your arms around his neck for support.

‘I just… I have to be more cautious around you. You’re dangerous.’

‘What? What are you talking about? You’re a demon, for fuck’s sake. And I'm the dangerous one?’, you let out confused. He smiles, amused.

‘It’s too addicting… It’s like my own personal drug. And if I’m not careful, I might actually physically get hooked on it… I might get hooked on you.’, he says as he kisses your shoulder, then your neck, and finally, your lips. ‘Hell, I’m not entirely sure I am not already addicted. This is getting out of control, I’m starting to crave you… In a very literal way. And if this goes on much longer, that’s it, I’ll always keep coming back for more… and more… I won’t be able to stop myself. You won’t be able stop me.’, he finishes, looking at you with a mix of intense desire and deep fondness.

‘Your voice…’, he softly grabs your neck.

‘Your taste…’, he rubs his thumb through your lips, and you can’t help but gently suck on it for half a second before he continues.

‘Your scent…’, he leans forward to breathe in against your collar bone.

‘Your body…’, his hands travel from your shoulder blades down your back and stop to slap your ass playfully before resting on your hips.

You drink in his words as if you need them to survive. You have never felt so wanted, so adored, so… loved. You want to tell him you wouldn’t stop him, because the truth is that you’re already gone… You are already hooked on him, you need him. But the growing stinging inside you quickly lets you know you can’t simply say that, so you default to flirting to try distracting him.

‘You’re assuming I would want to stop you. But why would I want to do that? I’m fucking an incubus, I’m having way too much fun to end it.’, you tell him with a smirk but a pinch in your chest for not being able to tell him what he means to you.

‘I’m serious.’, he tells you, half confused, half frustrated.

‘So am I.’, you lie.

‘No, Y/N, I mean it. I feel like I’m going crazy, I don’t know what to do anymore… Or what to think. I never know what you feel, what you want.’, his eyes pleading.

‘You do know. You just want to hear it out loud.’, you say as you get off the armchair, feeling uneasy with the conversation.

‘Then why won’t you say it?’, he questions, his voice getting higher, letting his impatience and irritation show.

‘I can’t.’, you simply tell him, walking away from him and towards the bed.

‘Of course you can! You just don’t want to.’, he shoots, getting up himself and walking behind you.

‘That’s not it. I just… I can’t say it, Chan… Not yet.’, you turn to face him. ‘But you’re not an idiot, you know exactly how I feel about you.’

‘Why don’t you just admit it, then?’, he almost begs, grabbing your arms anxiously.

‘Because I’m scared! Okay?’, you shout nervously, getting out of his hold and taking a step back. ‘Because the thought of telling you how I truly feel only to have you play with my emotions is terrifying. Because you have way too much power over me, and I’ve never…’, you take a short pause, as is you’re trying to fight your own thoughts. ‘I’ve never felt so powerless in my life. So, I keep convincing myself that if I don’t actually say the words, then it isn’t real… As if it isn’t real, then it can’t hurt me.’, you stop again, looking visibly uncomfortable as you reach to touch the crook of your neck in a soothing way. ‘Because I don’t think I could take getting hurt by you, I think I’d feel… undone.’, you pause once more.

You reach down to your chest, then your stomach, then your chest again, your face scrunched up as if you’re in pain. Chan doesn’t know it yet, but you are actually hurting… He assumes you’re just being dramatic because you don’t want to look weak by being vulnerable with him, but the truth is you are in an ever-growing agony. You take a deep breath before continuing.

‘And mostly because you’re a demon of lust and sexual desire. So, what reason do I have to believe that this…’, you gesture with your hand between the two of you. ‘Us…’, a distressed groan escapes your lips at the mention of the word, but you press on. ‘That this is anything more than… argh… than your many… usual… conquests?’, you let out between gasps, holding your neck again, as if you’re having trouble breathing in the midst of a panic attack. But this is something else entirely, it’s not panic… it’s deeper and more intense, it’s despair.

‘And by the way, I know I’m not a demon, but I was still blessed by one… You seem to forget that.’, you add, a bit more composed now. ‘I am a literal embodiment of pride… So, admitting all of this shit I just said?… Yeah, this feels like literal torture to me.’, you genuinely explain, even though he assumes you mean the word “literal” as a figure of speech. You did not. Still, he has so much he wants to say.

‘Y/N… I could never hurt you like that.’, he lets out in almost a whisper, as if he’s disappointed that you would think he could do that to you.

He reaches for your hand and makes you let go of your own neck, which he notices is already marked by how desperately you tugged at the skin. Your hands drop down and because you don’t know what to do with them, you just start fidgeting around with your fingers and staring at them to avoid looking him in the eye. He keeps talking though, this time in a normal volume.

‘It’s just… You’re not the only one that’s scared, you know? This is all new to me. You said it yourself, I’m a lust demon, an incubus, all I’ve ever known is that… it’s desire and passion, fantasy and sex… It’s lust and infatuation. That’s what all of my relationships have ever been, it’s all I’ve ever felt.’, he explains. His hand moves to your jaw and he makes you look up at him. ‘But that changed when I met you.’, he tells you softly but with a serious expression. He gently let’s go of your face before he proceeds talking. ‘I think it’s different this time, you're different. You make me feel different. You’ve never been just another conquest, you’re so much more than that. This…Us…’, he takes one of your hands and presses it against his chest. ‘This is real… It’s very real. And it’s more than just sex, it’s more than infatuation. I actually care about you and that’s new to me.’, he softly kisses the back of your hand before letting go of it and taking a step back.

You miss the contact as he moves away. You miss the heat radiating from his body and you miss his sweet scent around you.

‘But seriously, I just tried to tell you how I feel, I opened myself up and you just teased me about it. So, like, can you really blame me for being hesitant?’, he asks. Your mouth opens slightly as if you’re about to say something, but no sound comes out, so he keeps going instead. Your mind is racing with everything you want to tell him. ‘I’m more afraid of losing you than anything else in this world, and that makes me feel powerless too. I’ve never felt like this and that’s scary. I… I think you like me too, but how can I not be insecure if I’m the only one confessing?’, he protests, growing exasperated.

He’s right, and you know he’s right. You want to speak but the raging sting in your chest warns you against it.

‘You keep refusing to tell me how you feel, so how should I feel confident to admit it myself? I need to know I’m not alone in this, because… I don’t think I can keep doing this if you don’t feel the same. It’s too much.’, he adds, his voice going lower than ever, as if all the torment in the world is dragging it down.

All you want is to respond to his plea, to tell him how much you want him, how much he means to you… But you can’t.

‘Please don’t do this right now.’, it’s your time to plead now, your voice nothing but a faint ghost as you look down at the ground to try to distract yourself from the pain. ‘Chan, please… Please don’t make me say it first.’, you beg, one hand moving to scratch your chest while the other carelessly tugs at the hair behind your ear. Your discomfort is too apparent, but his anger takes the best of him in the moment.

‘Why is it so hard for you to say it?!’, he shouts, frustrated. ‘I know you’re proud, but fuck, it’s not like it’s going to kill you to admit it! It’s hard for me to admit too, you know? But I’m still trying! I just need to hear it. I just need to know you feel the same. If you just admit it, then…’, he says, but you cut him off halfway as your own rage takes over.

‘You think I don't want to?!’, you yell angrily. Your eyes start tearing up as the pain inside grows exponentially stronger. ‘I want to, believe me! But I…’, your sentence gets cuts off by an uncomfortable groan. ‘It fucking hurts.’, you say, crouching slightly over yourself as you grab your stomach, clearly struggling with the pain. ‘I do- argh!… I like you!’, you manage to say before you reach for your own neck and almost try to claw your way inside the flesh, trying to get some kind of relief. It feels like you’re burning from the inside out.

‘Wha- What’s going on?’, he lets out in shock at the scene.

‘It hurts! It hurts!’, you cry out, feeling like your whole body is on fire, like your blood is literally boiling inside you, trying to burn its way out. You’re scratching yourself so hard that blood starts showing up all around your neck and chest and shoulders, making Chan finally understand you were serious when you said it felt like torture. He jumps to grab your hands, trying to stop you from clawing your way into your skin.

‘Stop! Y/N, please… What are you doing?! You’ll hurt yourself! Just stop!’, he begs as he tries to control your movements. After a few moments, you seem to calm down enough for him to loosen his grip around your hands, and you takes the opportunity to rub his cheek with your thumb. He leans into the touch.

‘Chan…’, you whisper, managing to show him a smile between the tears running freely down your face. ‘Chan, I lo- AAH!’, your confession gets cut off by a chilling scream and you collapse in his arms.

‘NO!’, he cries out immediately. ‘Y/N, please!’, he begs. Your eyes open after about half a minute and you try to regain your posture, but he quickly makes you sit down on the bed, worried that you’ll faint again.

‘I’m fine… I’m fine, it’s okay.’, you assure him. He stands in front of you as he holds you close, your legs on each side of him.

‘I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, babygirl! Just stop, okay? You don’t have to say anything.’, he tells you, letting go to look at your face. You just now notice the tears in his eyes. ‘I’m sorry, I know… I know how you feel. You don’t have to say it.’, he continues. You get up to clean away a single tear on his cheek with a soft kiss and then rest your forehead against his.

‘No… I’m sorry. You should get to hear it. I’m sorry I can’t say it.’, he shakes his head slightly as if he’s disagreeing with you, as if he’s saying you shouldn’t be apologizing, but you just ignore it and continue on. ‘I… I want to. I really do. I just… I can’t do it. It hurts too much.’, you confess.

‘Stop, don’t say anything… Don’t say it!’, he begs, kissing your forehead before resting his on it again. ‘Please, I just can’t stand to see you like this… I can’t see you in pain, I can’t take it.’, he declares.

‘I’m fine now, Chan. I promise.’, you smile and kiss his lips gently, without any urgency or passion, just with pure affection. You then take his hands in yours and kiss them too, before deciding to hook your arms around his neck while he comfortably does the same around your waist. ‘It only hurts when I try to tell you how I feel. It’s one of the downsides of Lucifer’s blessing… I can’t say it before you do, because it quite literally hurts my pride.’, you explain, almost entertained with how ridiculous the situation seems.

‘I… I didn’t realize it caused you that much pain. I thought it felt similar to what I feel when I want to sleep with someone but don’t… Like, it’s uncomfortable, it’s kind of this stingy feeling, but it’s nothing like what you seemed to experience. I mean, I know other demons who have been blessed by Lucifer, and they’ve also said that they feel some kind of discomfort, or even some pain when they’re ashamed or something like that… But I’ve never seen them hurting as much as you just did. I… I had no idea, I’m so sorry.’, he lets out, terrified by the idea that he’s the one that caused your suffering with his persistence.

‘Don’t be, it’s not your fault.’, you assure him, as if you can read his mind. ‘You couldn’t possibly know, I mean, even I didn’t know… I’d never experienced that before.’, you say, trying to make him feel better. It seems to work, as you can feel his muscles relaxing up a bit. ‘But yeah, I suppose it’s a bit worse for me because I’m not a demon. I’m human, and my soul is obviously more sensitive to the strain of the demonic burden than your auras are. But I’ve gotten used to it, I can handle it pretty well. And it’s not usually like this… It’s like you’re saying, the ache is usually more of an annoyance than an actual problem.’, you take a small pause to let him take in the information before proceeding.

‘But I guess the pain is proportional to how vulnerable my pride is in the situation. And… You know… I don’t think I’ve ever been in a position where the risk is quite so high. It’s just… It’s too important, it means too much. If I said it and you didn’t said it back, it would destroy my pride completely. It just comes down to that, I guess.’, you shrug your shoulders slightly, trying to look unbothered.

‘I… I never thought about that.’, he lets out, looking up as if he’s lost in his own thoughts. ‘But now that you’re saying it, I’ve never felt quite as terrible as I did the days after I first met you… Before that night when you came to my room… I felt like I was sick.’, he describes, referring to your first sexual encounter. ‘But now it makes sense… It’s because I wanted you, I wanted to take you right then and there, but couldn’t.’, he takes a small pause before looking down and gracing you with a lighthearted smile. ‘You’re crazy though.’, he adds.

‘Arguably true. I mean, at least partially.’, you joke, smiling back. ‘But why do you say that exactly?’

‘How could you ever think I would not say it back?’, he questions, planting a kiss on your lips, then your cheek and finally, your neck. ‘I told you, I can’t get enough of you, princess … I want you all the time, I hate to be away from you… When you leave to go somewhere, I count the hours until I can see you again, touch you again. You’re the first thing I think about when I wake up and I feel like a silly, weak, little teenage human girl when I’m around you, it’s embarrassing!’, he lets out happily, as if he’s mocking himself.

‘Oh, shut up.’, you tell him with a dry chuckle, amused, taking it as a joke.

‘I’m serious!’, he protests.

‘Sure, you are.’

‘Y/N, I mean it. I mean every word.’, he tells you, suddenly very serious.

‘You… Hmm, you’re actually serious right now?’, you wonder.

‘I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. And I’ve never been more sure about anyone before.’

‘Chan, stop… You don’t have to say this just because…’, you start, but he cuts you off.

‘No, I want to say it. I’ve had a lot of lovers over the years, but I’ve never been in love, Y/N. I always thought love was just an excuse humans invented to make themselves feel better over the guilt they have about their carnal sins. Hell, I was sure that shit was a myth…’, he takes a small pause as he rests his head against yours once more and closes his eyes, breathing in your scent. He keeps talking with his eyes still shut.

‘But then you came into my life and made me question everything I thought I knew. You made me believe in the myth. You made me feel… new, and excited, and just… happy. Happy like I’ve never felt before.’, he says, rolling his head a little before opening his eyes to look straight into yours, forehead still glued together. The knot in your stomach clenches more and more at every word coming out of his mouth. You just want to tell him he made you believe in love too. He’s the one still speaking though. ‘You’re my drug, and I can never stay away. Nor do I want to.’, he says.

‘Then don't…’, you let out in a whisper without even realizing you just spoke aloud. He moves his head back to take you all in and gives you the biggest, brightest smile you have ever seen on him, looking so warm, so beautiful, so… perfect.

‘I can’t believe I’m saying this, but… Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N…’, you start laughing at the use of all the names, but deep down it’s just a nervous laugh.

‘Oh no, please don’t call me that ever again.’, you joke, trying to hide your excitement. He moves one hand from your hip to cup your face and rub your cheek before continuing. Your heart beats so fast that it feels like it’s about to burst out of your chest.

‘Y/N… I love you. I am desperately in love with you.’, he lets out just before pressing his soft, plump lips against yours. You kiss him back as if your life depended on it, your pain finally almost completely gone as a wave of relief crashes down on your whole being. ‘And I’m not even ashamed to shout it out from the rooftops for everyone to hear!’, he teases as your mouths break away, the happiest silly smile plastered on his face. You let out a snorted chuckle at the comment before holding him closer, until your noses are touching. You look up at him fervently.

‘Well, if I’m your drug, then you’re my medicine. I feel like I’m constantly burning from the inside and the only thing that stops the flames from taking over is… well, you. I only feel whole when I’m with you. You, Chan, as much as it hurts my pride to say it…’

‘Oh no, stop. Are you okay?’, he cuts you off, clearly worried that you might be in pain again, despite you showing no signs of it. You laugh fondly at his reaction as you cups his cheek.

‘I’m okay, don’t worry. You already said it, so it’s fine. It’s just a tiny little sting now, it doesn’t hurt, I promise… Because I know how you feel now.’, you explain.

‘Are you sure?’, he insists.

‘I’m sure!’, you reassure him. ‘You wanted to hear it so badly before and now you won’t let me say it?’, you tease him.

‘I’m sorry, I was just worried about you.’, he confesses, planting a quick kiss on your neck, just over one of the marks you gave yourself earlier.

‘Okay, now that you know I’m fine, will you just shut up and let me speak?’, you ask, poking fun at him. He nods eagerly with a shy smile. ‘Thank you. As I was saying, before you so rudely interrupted me… You, Chan, are the cure to my affliction. And I never thought I’d say this, but… I love you too.’, you finally admit with a warm smile.

It feels like a terrible weight that was crushing you down has lifted from your chest. You love him, and you can finally say it. And he loves you. Nothing has ever felt quite so in place. And now it’s his turn to kiss you passionately and ardently and yet, still tenderly. He’s the happiest he’s ever been hearing the words coming out of your mouth.

‘I’m pretty sure a part of me has always loved you, ever since we first met… I just couldn’t stop thinking about you.’, you say when the instant passes. ‘At first, I thought it was just sexual attraction, you know? But the more I was with you, the more I realized it was more than that.’, you tell him. A moan of pure bliss escapes him as he closes his eyes, enjoying the moment.

‘Hmm, say it again…’, he shamelessly begs. ‘I want to remember the way the words sound in your voice, it feels like music, it’s so beautiful.’, he adds without ever opening his eyes. You smile at the sight.

‘I really do.’, you say, rubbing your nose on his to make him open his eyes and look at you. ‘I love you, Chan.’, you let out on more time and he drinks it in.

‘I…’, you kiss his left cheek.

‘Love…’, you kiss his right cheek.

‘You…’, you softly kiss his lips. He’s still in his own world, taking in every small detail of what you’re saying.

‘I love you so much, baby.’, he lets out and kisses your neck, just where he knows you like it. ‘You’re never getting rid of me now, and I’m not even sorry.’, he teases as he comes back.

‘You won’t hear me complaining about that.’, you smirk, taking his hand and leading him to switch places with you before making him sit down on the bed with you standing between his legs. You take off your top, revealing the bra underneath and he kisses the skin between your breasts, and then your stomach. But then a stray thought pops up on his mind and he suddenly feels the urge to ask something.

‘Wait… so, are you like… my girlfriend, now?’, he lets out with an excited smile. You can’t help but laugh at his expression, thinking he looks like a kid waiting to receive a present on Christmas. ‘Are you?’, he repeats, sounding a little too eager.

‘No.’, with just one word, his smile quickly turns into a pout. It’s like taking candy from a baby.

‘Why not?’

‘Because I hate that word.’, you simply state, moving your legs around to sit on his lap, facing him while resting your own knees on the mattress with your feet under your thighs.

‘I don’t.’, he says with a playful smirk. ‘I never had a girlfriend, I’d like to see what all the fuss is about.’, he adds before licking the skin from your collarbone up to your ear. You close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his tongue on your body. ‘See? You like me way too much not to be my girlfriend. Come on, just say “yes”…’, he whispers before naughtily biting your ear, teasing you.

‘Do you really care about that?’, you ask genuinely, making him look up at you. He shrugs his shoulders slightly, trying to look not too concerned.

‘I mean, I didn’t think I would, but now that you said “no”, I have to admit, it kind of sucks. I don’t know, it’s not like I’m expecting us to just magically stop fucking other people, I’m just saying… It’d be nice to let them know that, even if they are fucking you, at the end it doesn’t matter, because you’re still mine, and only mine.’, he confesses, his possessiveness coming through in his words. A satisfied smirk comes up to your face as you can tell by his speech and general demeanor that he’s becoming more sexually charged. You take the opportunity to taunt him.

‘So, you just want to claim me… Is that it? Because you don’t need to call me your “girlfriend” to do that, you know? Your dick has done that for you a long time ago, with a little help from your lips, and tongue, and hands too.’, you tease. He seems to not find it too funny though, so you try to be sweeter with your next words. You move a bit, grinding against his evident bulge, and getting closer to him to whisper to his ear. ‘Don’t you see? No matter who I fuck, I always end up coming back to you.’, you say before kissing his cheek softly. ‘You’ve already marked me, already claimed me.’, you add, now kissing his lips with a bit more passion and urgency. You, too, are getting excited.

‘Okay, that’s good and all, but…’, he starts before taking a long pause.

‘But what?’

‘Well, I want to claim your… urgh, I can’t believe I’m saying this, and I will deny it if you ever tell anyone! But… Oh, I hate myself… I want to claim your heart, not just your pussy.’, he lets out shyly. You can’t help yourself and you start laughing vigorously at his comment, so much so that you drop to the side, laying on the bed next to him, clutching your stomach. He turns to you, pouting.

‘Hey! Stop mocking me!’, he demands dramatically as he starts tickling you as revenge. You can barely breathe over his vicious attack.

‘Okay! Okay! I’m sorry! Stop! Please, stop!’, you let out between laughs, finally giving in.

‘Yeah, that’s what I thought, princess.’, he says, smugly, as you both sit back up on the bed.

‘Alright, so how about this: instead of “girlfriend”, you could just call me “your girl”…? What do you think?’

‘Oh, please!... Look at your face, you love it!’, you mock him, amused.

‘Wow, I really love my girl.’, he tries it out with a big smile.

‘Yeah, I guess that works.’, he tries to look unbothered.

‘Fine! You can call me whatever you want, just stop being a baby about it.’, you give up.

‘I like “girlfriend” too.’, he argues.

‘Hey, you punks better watch your mouth, that’s my girlfriend you’re talking about!’, he lets out as an example. You roll your eyes at him overdramatically.

‘Oh, shut up, you love it too!’, he mocks you right back, grabbing your by the waist and bringing you close to him to kiss your neck playfully. You grab his hair, enjoying the moment. Your excitement soon becomes your main focus as you tug at it to make him look at you.

‘Okay, great. So, now that you’re done… (impersonating him) “claiming my heart”…’, you mock him, landing a slap on your butt as punishment, which you enjoy, as does he, feeling it up nicely afterwards. ‘Can we end all this emotional mush for now, and can you please come and claim my pussy?’, you tease, pulling yourself up to sit with your clothed core just over his ever-growing bulge and moving slightly to give him some satisfaction. The friction causes him to let out a moan and you take the opportunity to sensually bite his lower lip.

‘Hmm, you’re waking up the beast.’, he warns, making you smirk.

‘I’m counting on it.’, you respond, moving your hips back and forth as you pull his shirt off.

You take a second to take in the view. He’s so beautiful with his perfect body… his hands, his arms, his pecks, his abs, all his muscles tensing up with gratification as you ride him. His head tilts back as he enjoys the release your movement grants him, lewd sounds escaping him. You drink them all in as you carefully examine his stunning features, eyes closed and mouth agape with pleasure.

‘Just say it… Say it one more time.’, he lets out, finally opening his eyes to look fondly at you as you move steadily. His voice sounds low and intimidating, but you still welcome it. There is no pleading or begging in it… it’s not a request, it’s a clear and simple command.

‘Don't stop.’, he says, making you realize you had inadvertently slowed down the pace as you got lost drinking him in. ‘Just say it.’, he repeats as he takes off your bra and watches your boobs bouncing with the movement.

‘I love you, babe.’, you say in a seductive tone as you start moving faster, feeling how close he is.

‘Say my name.’, he orders before firmly planting his mouth on one of your nipples and sucking slightly, causing you to moan now.

‘Oh, Chan…’, another indecent sound comes out of your mouth as he licks your other nipple before sucking it. ‘Kiss me.’, you ask him as he pauses to take in a deep breath when you stop your hips. He obliges, giving you a wet and messy long kiss filled with desire and urgency. ‘Chan, I love you.’, you let out in almost a whisper as the two of you break apart, resting your forehead against his. ‘And I want you… I want you so badly right now, I need you inside me.’, you blatantly plead. He stares at you adoringly, as if he’s admiring a piece of fine art.

‘I love you, babygirl. And I can’t believe you’re mine. You’re so beautiful, so perfect, and you’re all mine.’, he lets out, his possessiveness coming out in his words, his tone, his demeanor. All of it just makes you more excited though, so you play into it.

‘You better believe it because I am. I’m yours, Chan, I’m all yours. You can do whatever you want with me, baby.’

‘I want to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk for a week, princess.’, he lets out seriously, his eyes glowing with a spark of pure lust.

‘Do it! Tie me up and fuck me like there’s no tomorrow.’, you let out a little too eagerly.

He roughly pushes you onto the bed, your back resting on the mattress as he gets on top of you, his instinct taking over, guided by the flames of desire. In a matter of seconds, he has already gotten you out of your shoes, jeans and underwear, and has stripped down himself to be completely naked. You both enjoy looking at each other for a moment before resuming the activity.

‘No one will ever touch you as delightfully as I do…’, he says as his hand trails from your thigh to your pussy, slightly rubbing over your clit before he moves on to your stomach, your breasts, chest, and finally, your neck, where he gently chokes you for a moment, sending a jolt of electricity down your body.

'No one will ever…’, he continues as he pushes his dick inside you without much care as it easily slipped in with how wet you already were. ‘…fill you up as wonderfully as I do…’, he finishes as he bottoms out with your walls clenching against his member, pressing on the large vein that runs under it, with moans coming out of both of your mouths when you’re not busy taking in each other’s lips.

‘No one… will ever… pleasure… you… as perfectly… as I do.’, he lets out between hard thrusts that make your orgasm dangerously close as he hits your g-spot just right. ‘Hmm, I’m so close, babygirl… Cum with me, cum with me.’, he half begs, half orders.

‘Oh, Chan… Chan!’, you shout, and in a matter of seconds you’re both riding your high together.

‘I’m gonna fucking ruin you for everyone else in this world.’, he says as he keeps pounding into your now oversensitive core just for some extra pleasure. You grab the back of his neck, making him look straight into your eyes. You stare at each other lovingly for a second when he stops moving before you speak, his dick still inside you.

‘You already have.’, you simply say, genuinely, before planting an adoring kiss on his already abused lips. He smiles into the kiss, feeling happy and fulfilled. ‘I always come back to you, babe. I will always come back to you… Because we belong together. No matter how many people we sleep with, it will always be the two of us in the end.’, you tell him. His eyes shine bright listening to your words. You reach down to cup his face with your hand and he kisses the palm softly. ‘Because you’re the only one who really knows me... All of me. Because you're perfect, Chan… You're perfect for me.’, you finish, leaving him feeling as if his heart is about to blow up, in the best possible way.

[meganwritesfanfics]

With Arms Wide Open (Dean Winchester x Reader) Part 1

More John Winchester hate. This time in a full story version. 

None of them were quite sure how it happened. One moment they were hot on the trail of yellow eyes, and the next moment, Y/N, Dean, Sam and John were waking up in an abandoned building hands tied above their heads. Fear was sinking into all of them as they weighed the options of how they could possibly get out, but no one was more afraid than Y/N, especially knowing that she had a secret, one that could change everything. 

“You know, I really thought you guys would put up much more of a fight. This was just too damn easy.” A voice chuckled as yellow eyes strayed into the room. 

Y/N and Sam were on one wall and Dean and John were on the other. Across the room Y/N stared at Dean eyes wide. Y/N and Dean had been together since high school, and hunting together since before then. Y/N was the only person Dean really considered to be his friend growing up, and as they grew up those feelings of friendship morphed into something else. He couldn’t imagine his life without her, she was a badass hunter who was absolutely gorgeous, but more than that she was caring and kind, and she could out sass the hunter any day. He loved her. So much so that he actually considered giving up hunting to give her an “apple pie” kind of life. But now in the situation they found themself in, he was afraid that would never happen. 

“It wasn’t even fun.” Yellow eyes pouted as he walked around smirking at the group. “But I know something that will make this much more interesting.” 

Everyone was struggling at their binds as Azazel inched closer to John. 

“Don’t!” Dean screamed. 

“Oh don’t worry Dean-o. My plan involves you too.” 

Y/N could feel her wrists getting irritated by the ropes, trying her best to pull her self free, but she knew it was useless.

“Now John, I have a deal for you.” 

“Why would I ever make a deal with you.” John snarled. 

“You are going to change your turn once you hear what I am offering. I am offering to bring Mary back.” 

The silence that fell over the room was deafening. John and the boys all looked shocked with a slight hint of concern. But Y/N, she looked terrified. 

She knew that John would take that deal no matter what the consequences were, and Azazel had said Dean was a part of the deal as well, so she knew what he wanted. 

“What are the terms!” Y/N snapped trying to get John to think before he acted but she could see he was already thinking. 

“I bring Mary back. Your precious wife and mother of your children.” Azazel whispered closer to John luring him deeper into the deal. “In exchange, I get Dean.” 

Y/N’s stomach dropped. 

“No!” Sam screamed but John said nothing. Dean’s eyes immediately looked over locking with Y/N’s giving her a sad look. 

“Don’t you dare John,” Y/N snapped. “Don’t you fucking dare!” 

“This is not your decision to make Y/N.” Azazel said as he came over and grabbed her face in his hands. 

She spat at him which only earned her a slap across the face. 

“She isn’t a part of this, leave her alone.” Dean screamed as tears began to well up in his eyes. 

Azazel smiled as he turned back to the eldest brother. 

“She started it, you sure picked a feisty one.” He sneered as he turned back to look at John. “Now Johnny, this is a limited time offer so the clock is ticking. You need to decide.” 

“Dad,” Dean’s voice cracked hard he couldn’t believe his father was actually considering this deal. 

“Dad don’t!” Sam screamed as he cried. 

Y/N was spiraling. She couldn’t lose Dean, she couldn’t, he was her whole world. And now with the secret she had, he couldn’t leave her. Her mind was racing as she tried to figure out any possible way to stop John from taking this deal. 

“Take me instead!” Y/N screamed before she even fully thought about what she was saying. 

“Y/N, no!” Dean snapped as he pulled even harder at the restraints. 

Azazel turned back to look at her amused. “Now why would I want you, you are nothing special, you are just Dean’s fuck buddy. You are no Winchester.” 

Y/N sighed tears streaming down her face as she avoided looking at Dean. 

“No I’m not, but I am carrying a Winchester inside of me.” Y/N said, silencing the room once more. 

“Wha...What?” Dean stuttered. 

“I’m pregnant.” 

Azazel’s expression changed to a serious one as he snapped his fingers and Y/N was released from the restraints as she landed on the ground. 

Slowly yellow eyes inched his way towards her, she quickly scrambled for her gun but he was on her before she had a chance. He wrapped his hand around her throat lifting her off the ground. “If you are lying I will end you right now.” He screamed as he roughly placed his hand on her stomach digging his fingers into her skin. He held her like that for a moment as she struggled to breath before finally he dropped her to the ground laughing. 

“This is the best trade I could have possibly asked for. Making sure that the Winchester line doesn’t continue, and killing Dean’s love right in front of him. Do we have a deal Y/N?” 

“Yes.” Y/N sobbed as she stared down at the ground sobbing. 

“No!” Dean cried and everyone heard as the wooden beam Dean was tied to cracked as he pulled on the rope. 

“Now John, aren’t you proud of this beautiful girl here.” Azazel grabbed her face again dragging her over to John. “She is willing to sacrifice herself and her unborn child all so that your son wouldn’t die so you could get your wife back.” 

“Y/N I…” John started but he didn’t have anything to say, he just looked down at the ground ashamed. 

“Well, Y/N might as well say your goodbyes to your precious Dean.” Azazel threw her to the ground at Dean’s feet. “I will give you a moment but if there is any funny business I will kill everyone in this room.” 

“Dean,” Y/N bolted to her feet wrapped her arms around her crying into his chest. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.” 

“Don’t do this, I need you Y/N.” Y/N could feel his tears falling into her hair. 

“Everything is going to be alright Dean, I promise. I love you so very much.” 

Y/N quickly turned around glaring at John as she did so. 

“Oh no no I want Dean to watch your pain.” Azazel spun her around. “I want him to see the love of his life and mother of his unborn child in agony.” 

“Don’t you dare touch her, I won’t stop, I won’t stop hunting you, and when I find you I will destroy you.” Dean screamed his voice so deep it sounded as if he was growling. 

Y/N held her breath as she waited for the pain to come but it didn't. Instead all she heard was Azazel laughing. 

“God, you are all so stupid. Did you really think I would bring Mary back?” 

“What?” Y/N asked as she turned back to face him. “We made a deal you can’t…” 

Azazel smacked Y/N across the face hard enough that it sent her to the ground. 

“I can do whatever I want!” He screamed. “That being said, I will be back for you and your baby in about nine months, how does that sound.” 

“No!” Both Dean and Y/N screamed. Y/N bolted to her feet grabbing her gun. The minute she fired she was thrown backwards into the wall. The wind was knocked out of her and she lay on the floor gasping. 

“See you all soon!” Azazel laughed and then he vanished and everyone’s restraints fell away.

[busycryin]

Disinhibition

Pairing: Benjamin ‘Benny’ Miller x Reader 

Word Count: 2k 

Warnings: Injury, bad words, mentions of sex. 

Summary: Benny gets injured and loses his filter.  (Not that he had much of one to begin with)

Note: This is self indulgent fluff. I regret nothing. I am in love with all of these men. 

It was never your idea of a fun Friday night - watching Benny get the ever living shit beaten out of him. 

Until six months ago you’d never have even set foot in an event such as this, but here you were, beer in hand watching the brother of your best friend take an uppercut to the face in a fight you think he was winning. 

To you Benny was the gentle giant; a sweet guy who topped up the window wiper fluid in your car when it got low or the guy that gave you the last hot dog at the barbeque because he knew you secretly hated Frankie’s burgers. In this ring he was one hundred percent the warrior you’d heard stories of as a mask of icy calculation had descended across his features. 

The outside world was shut out; it was just him and his opponent in the ring.

His opponent just so happened to be a gorilla - there was no other way to describe the mans body as his arms were thick chords of muscles covering bone - somehow managing to make Benny look lithe. 

You were still new to this but you weren’t quite sure how he was even in the same weight class.

Christ, this was bad for your blood pressure.

You couldn’t help the butterflies fluttering around your stomach despite the fact that for every hit Benny took he landed two. The two were locked into a hold on the ground, you didn’t quite understand what was happening, but Ben had somehow got the upper hand. It was as he held the man down that the bell finally rang and you released a breath you didn’t realise you were holding; the round was over. 

Santiago, another friend of Will’s who was standing beside you and Frankie, blew out a heavy breath. 

“This is a fuckin’ close one.”

“Guys fuckin’ huge.” Frankie echoed your thoughts whilst taking a sip of his beer. 

Will was bent over Benny talking into his ear as the younger of the duo desperately chugged his water bottle. He looked absolutely exhausted, your heart was beating madly in your chest; you decided to remain silent. 

All too soon the break was over and the mouth guard was back in place protecting those pearly whites that were often directed at you in a half-smirk/half-grin concoction that always signalled he was up to no good. 

“Don’t worry, Guapa! Ben’s got this, he’s one tough sonovabitch.” Frankie patted your back reassuringly. Somehow you weren’t convinced but you smiled at both of the men, nodding enthusiastically and draining your half full beverage. 

You knelt to place your cup under your seat, rising finally as the bell rang, signalling the beginning of a new round of torture. Your hands interlocked nervously in front of your mouth flinching at every hit the other man landed on Benny. 

You felt Santiago pat your shoulder and shoot you a smile whilst he cheered for the younger Miller. “He’s got this, Y/N.” He spoke, repeating Frankie’s earlier reassurances.

Benny did not have this. 

As was made evidently clear a couple of minutes later when the two were grappling on the ground, his opponent had got the upper hand and was above him trying to get him to submit. But Benny being Benny wouldn’t give in, despite being banged to rights. 193 pounds didn’t seem so heavy right now as his opponent twisted his arm to the ground, his thick legs wrapped around Ben’s torso. 

Your heart dropped as you could’ve swore you heard the crack of bone over the crowd. Finally Benny tapped. 

The fight was over, he’d lost. 

Santiago had thrown his hat off raking his fingers through his hair in disappointment “Mierda! I thought he had it!”

“That guy was fucking massive, I hope he’s okay.” You mumbled when you realised Ben was still sitting on the padded ground. 

“Let’s go see, eh?” Frank gestured towards the ring where a medic had now entered, tailed closely by Will. You had to stop yourself from racing to his side as sat injured in the ring.

You see, you and Benny had a complicated relationship.

Well it wasn’t that difficult, simply put Ben was a bit of a slut, now you didn’t judge him. Live and let live, you say, but casual sex just wasn’t your thing. Especially not with the brother of your best friend. You’d come to rely on your easy friendship with the older Miller brother so you avoided your relationship with Ben going beyond flirting - your friendship wasn’t something you wanted to fuck with on a whim. 

So, a strange friendship in limbo was where you and Benjamin Miller firmly remained. 

Benny was pulled up into standing, his face was pale as the MMA medic inspected his arm. The man shook his head at Will as they walked, both supporting the injured man. 

“-dislocated, he’s gonna have to go to the ER.” The three of you caught the end of the conversation as you followed the trio. 

“He okay?” Frankie questioned first “Going to the hospital?”

“Yeah, the idiot pushed himself too far. Popped his shoulder out of the socket instead of submitting.”

“Shit, Ben! Are you okay?” You asked, rushing to his side.

“I’m fine Y/N.” He grunted ever the hard headed soldier, his face was laced with pain even as he tried to be impassive in his agony. 

You backed off at his clear dismissal, not wanting to push him whilst he was in such pain.

“We’ll meet you there, yeah?” Santiago questioned.

In the end, you and ‘Pope’ sat in the hospital chairs for an hour or two waiting. Frankie had waited for an hour before he had to get back to his family, the two of you had insisted he get back. It wasn’t fair on Mama Morales to have to look after the baby on her own. 

Santiago was the friend of Will’s you knew the least. He was always kind but he simply was never around. He came and went as he pleased much like an outdoor cat, but in the short time you’d been around him you knew he was a nice guy. Two, going on three hours alone talking about nonsense had pretty much cemented that as you now sat in the waiting room playing go fish, waiting desperately to hear some news about your - What exactly was Benny to you?

Your crush? No. You weren’t in Kindergarten.

Your friend? No. Not enough.

The guy you had incredibly strong feelings for - the kind that made that tingle in your stomach when he laughed at your jokes but you can’t tell him because he’s a man whore who can’t commit to one woman? No. Abit long, not to mention a complete overshare. 

Your person.

You were waiting desperately to hear some news about your person when finally Will rounded the corner. You stood before you realised what you were doing.

“He okay?”

“Yeah, he’s good. Asking about you Y/N, come and see him?”

“Of course.” You reply picking up your purse. 

Both you and Santi follow Will through the winding hospital halls. You hear Benjamin before you see him.

“I wanna rock and roll all night and party everyday! ” His usually melodious voice is hoarse and slurred, he sounded somewhat drunk as he butchered the rock song from his favourite band.

“I love you too, man.” Will says with a small smile on his face as he sits on one of the chairs beside the bed. 

“He’s had some anesthesia. He’s pretty high right now, so brace yourselves.” He’s sitting up in the bed arm wrapped in a sling, staring up at the ceiling as he sings (shouts) when you round the corner.

“Will, you’re back!” He lights up as he sees his brother “I love you.”

However Will is forgotten instantly as soon as Benny catches sight of you. “Will! This is her, Christ, its the angel I fuckin’ told you about!”

“Calm down, Ben.” Will still has the smile on his face but he tilts his head to the other patient behind the curtain being subjected to his younger brother's lack of an indoor voice.

“How are you doing, Brother?” Santi questions, sitting on the chair to the other side of him. 

He looks at Santiago. “Pope! Have you seen her? She’s so gorgeous, man. She’s here.”

You chuckle as you walk to stand beside him on the bed. He instantly takes your hand in his good one and pats the bed beside him. You can’t help but acquiesce despite the cloudy look in his eyes. It’s like the lights are all on but nobody's really home.

You hop up, facing him sideways on. You’re not about to cuddle the man in front of Will and Santiago, no matter how desperately you’d like to.

“How you feeling, Soldier?”

“Better now you’re here, Angel.” You can’t help the snort that comes out at his words. 

“I’m glad I can help.”

“You could help me in another way y’know Y/N.” He smirks in a way that is so completely Benny you almost forget he’s delirious. 

“I think you might regret this when you have a filter, lovely.”

“You hear that Will?” Benny’s whisper isn’t quite as stealthy as he believes as his voice is barely quieter than a shout. “She fuckin’ called me lovely, I’m fuckin in there man!”

“...No way...” Will replies simultaneously trying and failing to keep a straight face.  “Y’know Ben you might want to calm down, you might be making Y/N uncomfortable.”

“Y/N… Oh god Y/N. She's gorgeous man, inside and out and her tits -Man her tits are-” He makes a growling noise. 

“Ben!” Will admonishes whilst Santiago is looking on, his hand covering his mouth desperately trying to contain his chortles. “I think you should get some rest buddy.”

“I’ma do that. I’ma put my arms down, my head back and get some rest.” Benny tells his brother resolutely all whilst nodding his head and in his defense he does just that… for a grand total of ten seconds before his blue eyes reopen and fix on you. 

“Y/N?” Benny ‘whispers’ whilst tugging on your hand that is still firmly locked with his good one. 

“Mmh?”

“I think we should have a baby.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. We can have like 6 babies and I’ma’ fuck you so good every single night for the rest of our lives and we can have our own barbecues and I’ll cook you up the hamburgers special.” You can’t help it as your eyes widen exposing the whites in their entirety. You’re trapped somewhere between laughing and mortification as you know there’s no way in hell Will and Santi didn’t hear that.

“I’m not a baby machine dude, six kids is alot for my body to handle.”

“You’ll think about it?” He asks his eyes heavy as they lock on yours.

“Moron,” You chuckle whilst raising the hand which is not currently his prisoner and push the strand of dirty blonde hair from his eyes “You get some rest and I’ll give you all the babies you can handle, big guy.” 

“If I go to sleep am I going to die?”

“No, Ben. You won’t die.” You can’t help a final giggle at his expense, apparently Benjamin Miller without a filter is quite the character. Finally he closed his eyes, his strong much larger hand still wrapped around your own as he drifted off.

A few moments passed and nobody seemed to know what to say. Every suspicion they’d had, had been confirmed. You hoped to god they weren’t going to tease him about it.

“Don’t make fun of him too badly when he wakes up, fellas.” You mumble awkwardly, your eyes not leaving his face. 

“That’s my line.” Will pipes up from his seat when you finally meet his eyes. “My brothers a stubborn guy, he’ll see this as a screwing things up with you Y/N/N.”

“He never said anything. The guy’s impossible to read.” 

“Nah, you’re just too close to it, is all.” Will supplied - ever the guiding light in your world recently.

“Well. We’ll see, won't we?” The guys start discussing the fight, about where Ben went wrong - something you didn’t really want to think about for a long time - or in the very least until his shoulder was healed. 

Finally during the lull of conversation as they’re both checking their phones you go to ask Will when they’re releasing the giant moron when Santiago finally speaks up. “So, Y/N. You and Ben mind naming one of the kids after me? I figure with 6 of em’ you can spare at least one for the namesake.”

Tag List:

All - @benakenalove

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

Hello, Hello, would you mind to write a scenario for Levi Ackerman with a female s/o were they have a argument and Levi accidently hurts her physical in some way?

Thank you very much and please be careful 💚

Okay, hello, I have been working on this for a HOT minute and this is the only way I thought this could go (because Levs would never ever ever ever hurt his s/o, poor man has seen his mother being violated so much too pls-) tell me if you like it, I'd be glad to know if you're satisfied with how it went.

Pairing: Levi/ Reader

Tags: Action, Somewhat!Fluff,

Warnings: Mentions of blood, gunshots, wounds you know, typical snk stuff

Bullet

Crimson liquid run in gushes from the wound in your shoulder splattering your whole body and your surroundings. The pain was immense and torturous and reeked of the adrenaline that your body was trying to produce, all on vain to soothe the uneasiness, as with every passing second the hot rushes of blood that flew to the spot put your mind in a burgundy haze. Your left hand was trembling, your body was still in shock by the hit and your necessary intakes of oxygen had long surpassed the normal rate by now but you weren't in a position to slow down.

The odds had been against you ever since you decided to follow Levi and not lead the infamous cadets of the 104th squadron.

It was the silent clicking of a gun that had caught your attention as you discussed how much of an ambush this whole situation seemed with Nifa and Levi. You almost perked at the spot, a fragment of a second faster than Levi, buying yourself enough time to jump into the most unthinkable situation; getting Levi out of this commotion safe and unwounded, you'd take the incoming shot for the stoic captain to stay alive.

The bullet had blown just through your shoulder with enough force to send you flying to the ground, meters away from the hotspot of action. As you heard Levi's voice screaming an earth shattering call of Kenny Ackerman's name you pushed through the pain that has shaken your body to the core and shot your drills to the nearest building. Your heart was beating fast, eyes rapidly checking in all directions to examine your surroundings while the pulsating of your shoulder begged with you to take action on it's recovery.

Only ever when you made sure your surroundings were clear of armed soldiers did your feet drag you outside the dark alleyway. Pushing through the intense pain you managed to shoot the drills of your gear onto a empty rooftop, trying your best to evenly distribute your weight on the equipment. One mistake and you could easily be wiped out.

Therefore you settled for sneaking carefully in between dark alleys as gunshot sounds ravaged your eardrums; It was definitely Levi who was taking all that fire on his own, sending your heart to an uncatchable pace as the blood that pulsated in every inch of your body would manage to find an exit through the wound on your shoulder.

As the blasts kept getting unbearably closer by each passing second you glued yourself to the stone wall and ducked down, to protect any part of you in order to see for yourself if Levi was indeed the target of this manhunt.

Your speculations were correct.

Upon him passing by -incredibly fast- your eyes met his for a brief moment, forcing a shocked hitch to leave his lips as his eyes widened. His expression, dark, anxious, as if he had just seen a ghost and refused to believe it.

The state of your well being was still unbeknownst to you; you hadn't even taken a chance to see how drenched in blood your clothes were.

With another fast shoot of your quills and a press to your gas' handle you landed on another rooftop, far behind from the horde of men that had all their attention on Levi.

Everything went quiet for a moment. Sheer tranquility masked the air. The fire of action seemed to have been out off momentarily, yet you don't have an eye sight of the situation. You couldn't seem to slow down your breathing not even for one second, your alert eyes repeatedly scanned the areas around you to detect any suspicious move.

Despite the unfair odds and your position you had managed to successfully locate the cart with Eren and Historia, only to come face to face with the commotion that had occured. Hange's men were taken one by one, this time in your comrade's place sat a wide eyed brunette who screamed at the horses to go faster.

The sound of shooting thundered in waves around the town, startling you, urging you to jump into action. The wagon couldn't by any means, slip away from you or your team.

You tapped against your right gas canulle, begging for the sound to signal that it was halfway full at least. The left one was busted from your previous impact against the cold stone buildings, still you were sure you could push through with as much as you had, even if it seemed deadly enough to get you killed.

The cadets were startled as the saw you as they proceeded to bombard you with questions about your condition to which you could barely reply with full sentences. Slowly your body was giving in to your injury, to a point where you couldn't ignore it. Still, you bothered with how much more you could take.

"The hell is that!" Jean inquired, eyes pacing between the gory scene unraveling before him, and you, still troubling himself with taking in what he was witnessing.

Levi flew hurriedly flew by, pumping his gas one before launching his drill to an armed man's abdomen. His face hardened as the men was dragged to him, hands already gripping his blades steadily.

He went straight for the kill. Blood cluttered everywhere around him, staining any nearby surface.

Everyone's faces went numb as frozen droplets of sweat run down their foreheads. Naturally, in your shocked state you failed to provide any comfort to them, even if their despairate eyes were begging you to.

"Follow the wagon!" Levi commanded, his breath hitching in his throat as he sat still, despairate to take a momentarily rest.

"Right!" Mikasa complied sternly.

"Listen up, these soldiers were trained to fight other people, they've already take up three of ours," restlessly, Levi flew to lead the team, launching himself alongside of you, but still not sparing you a glance. "If you hesitate for so much as a second you'll be dead. The moment you see an opening go for the kill!"

"Yes sir!" Once again the ravenette in a stone cold tone confirmed her Captain's orders were well understood, forcing a gulp to flow down everyone's throat.

"And you, (y/n)!" This time his eyes were intensely burning dark holes in yours. "You stay back and lay low, this is an order!" You watched as he gulped, taking a moment to breathe through his nose in an attempt to calm himself down. "And don't ever think about taking a bullet for me, ever again."

Despite the gallons of blood lost and the tremendous pain you managed to find the spitfire in you to reply, eyes wide with rage at his last comment.

"Sir, with all due respect, I'm fine with laying low, but-"

"No time for you to form your own rebellion over my words, lay low or you're getting killed. You've made yourself the easiest target!" His words dripped of poison, unnerving anger that did nothing to convey his worry, making your head blur with similar rage.

You refused to believe that the first thing he would try to converse with you on the subject would actually turn out to be a scolding session. As if you were an imbecile child. As if you hadn't tried to push through to keep offering your abilities to your cause.

"Kenny would have shot you right then and there! What did you expect me to do?" You screamed. Your lungs burned with every command to withstand the pressure. Hot blood found its way through the hole in your arm again.

"No he wouldn't. We don't have time for this, Lay low!"

Levi's tone was sharp as a knife slicing your flesh like soft butter, somewhat hurting you more that the small piece of metal in your body. "You can't handle yourself like I can at the moment." It was rare they the two of you would bicker like this, and there was so much you could handle with an oozing wound, barking at him seemed to be the way to get your point at him.

"You're unbelievable," you squealed "I just saved your life and you're downgrading me?"

"Don't put words in my mouth, you know what I mean."

"Oh, do I now?" You mocked.

"No one else dies on my watch and you can't fight, so out of our way!"

Levi launched himself into a tent, backflipping his way through another kill. You hated to admit that he was right; you couldn't even make it to a few kills with the remaining of your gas yet the adrenaline in your body was raging against every plead of you to stay behind.

"You can't keep me out of action!" You barked, eyes glimmering with stubbornness as you followed the team's lead to the wagon. Jean was the first to land with Armin, throwing the brunette soldier way from her spot. You didn't seem to pay enough attention to your surroundings, the clicking of a gun behind you fell deaf to your ears.

"I told you (y/n) we don't have tim- watch out!" Levi's eyes widened in terror at the sight of the armed man towering behind you. Shaking hands that still held his blades reached out fast, boldly enough to launch onto the collar of your shirt, bringing your form onto him, only for your nose to harshly collide with the steel handle of his blade in the process. In turn you were thrown harshly onto a nearby tent.

A moment later his blades had slashed through the man while a rage filled scream muffled your ears.

"Armin Secure the wagon with Jean! We'll keep you covered!"

At trying to catch up in the commotion on the wagon, he witnessed in agony as Jean gulped, a gun nearly pressed to his head. Mikasa called out his name, launching her blades and spinning in the air. If it wasn't for Armin to ruthlessly pull the trigger to send the brunette to her instant death, she would have been too late to save her comrade. Levi clicked his tongue in misery. This was getting worse by each passing second.

"Armin! Jean!"

You laid on the tent, left hand scrunched against your bloody nose as you tried not to move. There were still armed men everywhere, if they detected you were alive you were done for. With half lid eyes you watched the scene unfold in front of you.

Three more men had towered behind Levi and the cadets, pointing their guns on them. Levi and Sasha jumped to the scene, shoving their comrades out of the wagon. The had successfully missed the fire of the shots for short seconds. As a sigh of relief left you your right eye lost focus. Your head felt dizzy, heavy at the numbing pain that shoot from your whole body. As the effects of adrenaline slowly wore off your body started to give in, eyes battling an already lost fight to stay open.

The last thing you heard was Levi calling out your name.

__

Your eyes painfully shot open.

The top of your mouth felt dry. You couldn't swallow. A strong metallic taste adorned the tips of your tongue. In a panicked state your eyes were blinking rapidly at the darkness around you, alternating gazes between the group of people a few meters away from you and the flickering light of the fire.

In contrary to your body, your head felt feathery light as numbness toyed on your brain, taking forms of a thousand little ants stomping each cavity they could find.

"Ah, Captain she's awake!"

Your body couldn't move and your mind couldn't think, yet Connie's words rang a few bells that alerted you. After what seemed like an eon later, a flick switched in your brain, widening your eyes upon hitting you with the most profane realisation.

"It's probably the morphine shot that has you numb like this. I took care of that bullet in your arm and I fixed your nose."

Your eyes bored into Levi's steel ones, unintentional apathy splattered all your face. You couldn't help but stop your bruised lips from forming to a small pout; as your coincidence flowed withing your body with every passing of the time you were reminded of the heated exchange of words you and your lover had shared before your body gave in.

Levi's eyes softened as he watched your face fall into an angered expression. A sigh of relief escaped him as his hand extended to your direction, calloused fingers lingering on the thin locks on your forehead.

"Shit" he groaned through gritted teeth "Fuck, I'm so sorry (y/n), you know I didn't mean to break your nose right? Given the situation I knew you'd land safely on the tent, I just had to get you out of there"

His eyes were sincere, flickering with agony as his hand rested behind your ear. The look on his face was enough to make you melt, to give in to whatever he ever said, you couldn't deny that much.

"I know how devoted you are, you could have taken that bullet for anyone not just for me, that's who you are." Another sigh escaped him, this time sneaking profoundly out his trembling chest.

"Y-you don't have to s-struggle with your-r words. You were right-t. I shouldn't have pushed my self with such little gas while losing so much blood." You coughed. Essential sentences were spilling out of your mouth. You knew when to step back into your place, especially in arguments that you were on the wrong. Levi had been right from the beginning, but you had pushed forward, worked yourself to the limit.

"Tch, I would never intentionally hurt you, you know that much right? I didn't mean to cause you more pain-"

"Levi, my love," As you laid on your back you watched the fire in his eyes cool down at sound of the endearing pet name. His chest stopped taking sharp stressed breaths and his hand started rubbing soothing circles at the nape of your neck. "You don't have to apologise, please. I was on the wrong. If anything, you saved me from being fatally shot. You shoved Jean away as well."

Levi's antics were nothing strange to you. You had spent years by his side, training as a part of his team, fighting alongside him. The way he cared for his comrades was unmatched, unable to be mimicked. You knew of his tragic past, so him acting compulsively like that wasn't something you wouldn't have expected. You weren't mad that you had gotten hurt in the process of him ripping you away from deaths grip.

The only thing that had ever made you mad was that, momentarily he wasn't willing to approve of your sacrifice to him.

"I threw you like shack of shit, I don't deserve you going soft on me. I should have not downgraded you."

Your eyes shut, lips curling upwards onto a tiny smirk, one that lifted Levi's spirits just a bit. "I'll stop being so hotheaded." You managed to admit, letting a chuckle escape your lips. Rarely you could stop yourself from giggling when you'd make up with the man.

"Brat! Don't laugh when we're having a serious conversation!" His eyes hardened, voice full of affectionate authority. You were so eager to brush off the subject of him guilt tripping himself, to lift the weight off his shoulders.

The weak bubbling laughter that escaped you after was contagious and never ending. It felt as little, continuous jolts of static electricity shocking your body as each exhale, but it was unstoppable, not even for you to answer properly back to him. The effect of the tranquilizing shot was perfect on it's part as well.

"I-it's just that i- love you. That's all. You've always got a spot on poo comment about everything."

Levi's head lowered in defeat, his nose leaving out an amused whip of air in the process. As you watched him, you felt a familiar warmth numb its way through your body from your stomach and outwards. Perhaps, this time he didn't want you to assume what he would say. Perhaps he was still guilt tripping himself or perhaps your laughter was getting through him at a moment he had to be stern. Nevertheless you never missed the words that felt his lips, before he went to quickly brush then against yours.

"I won't be as hotheaded as well, I promise. I'd take a thousand bullets for you I hope you know that."

[raggaraddy]

Mercy

Summary: You want to save your friend from Seokjin even though you know how cruel his punishments can be.

Trigger warning: Torture, assault, burning.

A/N: Please note this story has violent themes that may be uncomfortable for some readers. Please do not read this story if you are underage or are sensitive to such topics.

Seokjin

Yandere!Seokjin King!Seokjin

"I will die." Is all Annette could say, over and over. The elderly maid stood with you, the remnants of a suit jacket in her hands, a helpless fright shaking her words. She had been distracted for a moment and the fabric had caught on a candle. Her reaction was one of frozen shock and the flame quickly jumped along it, scorching about 30% of the material before you managed to put it out.

Whether the King cared for the item or not, whether he even noticed it was gone was irrelevant. You all knew better than to hide something from him. He would eventually find out, somehow he always did. And when he found out she had hidden her failure, he would bring the very concept of hell to life for her deception.

That being said, to confess to such a mistake would also certainly lead to dire consequences. All of the staff knew to catch his attention in any way was a disastrous thing. And any action that gave him a reason to torture you would surely become your greatest regret.

At nearly 70 years, Annette had seen and heard just about all of what the King was capable of. He may be a merciful ruler, but within these walls, he was nothing more than a beast in search of yet another person to devour.

You knew as well as any other, if not more so, exactly why she was so afraid. The thought of what he could do terrified you. But you also knew that she was one among many of the staff who had gone out of their way to shelter you from the King in the initial months after you started at the palace. If you had heeded their instruction and warnings, you may have never even crossed his path. But you were impetuous and resistant and now you had the scars and marks as penance. You also knew that with or without reason or mistake, you already had the Kings focus. Maybe today or maybe tomorrow or the day after, he was going to call you to him again like he regularly did, and he was going to take pleasure in hurting you. Nothing was going to stop that.

But there was still an opportunity to spare this woman.

It was only you and Annette here to see the jacket be damaged. It could have easily been you that was distracted. You were known to be absent-minded. It would be very believable that this was your fault.

"Anne, give it to me." You request, holding your hands out. The woman, still in a daze, hands it over without any acknowledgment. You point to your section of the room to the clothes you had been cleaning. "Those were yours, okay." You gesture to her section and the damaged garment. "And these are mine."

Your meaning seems to slowly click into place. "No, Y/n. You can not do that, Love. I-"

"You are my friend. And you made a simple mistake. You shouldn't have to suffer for it. You know what Jin will do to me anyway. There is no need for both of us to-." Your words are strong and sure but taper off as the fear and worry you feel on the inside stop you from creating a complete sentence.

With a mix of pain and gratitude in her eyes, she resigns with a nod. Accepting your merciful offer.

His attendant had informed you that the King was available and alone. You realized early on that it was better to come to him when he was by himself. Not that it would lessen how he treated you, but at least this way no one else would see what he would do to you. And it would save you some shame.

The guard knocks on the door. He opens it with permission and announces you. On hearing the King call you in, you have to wipe your hands down the length of your dress to rid them of sweat. You enter the room, the guard closing the door on your back sealing you in the study.

Sitting at his desk Jin's usual emotionless expression is gone, a subtle look of intrigue in its place. And what is nearly a smile on his lips.

You had never come to him of your own free will before. He had always summoned you. But here you were. Seeming to offer yourself up.

"Your Majesty." You curtsy, bowing your head if only to hide the tremble in your eyes.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your unexpected company?" He purrs.

This was it. Time to confess to something you had not done and receive a punishment you did not deserve. While you could never actually do it, you can't help but momentarily question whether to instead tell the truth and betray Annette.

You breathe deep for strength. "I need to apologize for a mistake I made." You look up to him to sense his reaction. For a brief moment, he flashes a look that is nearly giddy with excitement.

"For what?" He prompts.

Gripping it tightly, you lift up the tattered jacket for him to see.

He stands, that hidden smile becoming clear on his face. Circling the desk, he takes it from your hands and continues strolling down the room until he stops next to the lounge arrangement in front of the fireplace. Turning, his finger is pressed to his lips in thought.

"Come here," he calls softly with a drawing motion from the same finger.

You swallow heavily, sucking your tongue to wet your dry mouth. Although you follow the order, you are filled with regret and a deep-seated desire to turn and run from him instead. However, you had made that mistake once before and you swore you would never again.

"Kneel." He points down to the fireplace's outer hearth. Looking lowly and fighting back nausea, you do. You can feel the heat from the burning wood and embers against your front right away. "Place your arm above the fire." He instructs. The calm of his tone not matching with the cruelty of the order.

There is only a wall around the fireplace. So the only thing he could mean is to put your arm inside the firepit over the flame.

Slowly, trying not to touch the top of the pit or the fire itself, you guide your arm in as Jin commanded. Instantly, the heat swarms around your skin and too quickly it goes from warm to hot to burning. You hold it for about 20 seconds, hissing air in through your teeth until you can't any longer.

You yank your body back with a yelp. Panting, looking over how the skin has turned red after only a few moments.

His large hands grab your hair and slam your face into the bricked wall. Your head bounces off and you fall back, clutching your forehead feeling the skin having torn.

Seokjin nods towards the outer hearth again, mouth pressed into a straight line. You want to beg and whine for him to not make you do this, but again you had done so a few times before and were taught quickly that it was better to not say or do anything more than what he orders.

Hesitantly you climb back up. He's not going to ask again, the next time he is more likely to push you into the coals himself.

Unable to stop yourself from jerking your arm back every few inches, you slow back above the fire. The burn returning even quicker. You force yourself to hold still this time. Drawing on all your strength to endure. Your fingers and cut forehead pressing and clinging into the bricks, you try to bear the pain as you feel your skin beginning to burn.

Kicking your feet under you, you're whimpering and squealing, tears pricking in your eyes, as waves of sharp sizzling pangs spur up your arm. Instinctually your body continues to flinch and jerk, fighting to get away, but you overpower your impulses. The effort turning shrill cries into outright screams of agony.

For nearly two minutes Seokjin listens and watches you writhe and cry, a small satisfied smile on his lips and a sparkle in his eyes.

At a point past pain where the throb in your body starts to have you feeling numb, the King finally grants you quarter, permitting you to remove your arm.

You do so stiffly. Your entire body throbbing, head pounding. Your chest compressed from heavy sobs.

Dropping onto the ground, you cradle your arm. Your forearm and palm are littered with blisters and burns. The skin red and ruined.

The King holds the tarnished fabric upright, examining it again for a moment. With a shrug, he throws it into the fireplace to finish its destruction. "No matter," he tisks "I didn't really like that jacket anyway."

[the-last-kenobi]

Hi! I love your writing and was excited to see you're taking requests! Could you do 10 with majorly hurt Obi-Wan and the 212th like trying not to completely freak out?

Aww, thank you! <3 Happy to oblige darling. And ooooh, the underrated 212th! I’m so happy to write them. I hope this does them justice.

From this various prompts list.

_

“Cody! No! Pull the men back!”

“What?”

“There!”

A burst of flame that lit the world up in blinding heat. A strange echoing noise.

A scream.

Cody thought that he would see that moment burned behind his eyelids for the rest of his life.

It was still swimming before his eyes even as he frantically tried to deal with the aftermath, as he tried to force his brain to engage with the present moment.

Right now, right here, Obi-Wan was gasping for air, his whole body twitching and writhing beneath Cody’s hands, blood staining his face, his chest, everything. Everything was painted with hot, metallic red and Cody for the first time wanted to vomit at the sight of blood.

“Hold him still!” the medic beside him barked. Cody didn’t even know his name. He always knew their names, but right now nothing was lodging in his brain except General Kenobi and his ragged screams.

“I’m trying,” he snapped back. “Help him!”

The medic gave him a strained look and then returned his focus to the man bleeding out on their watch.

“Does he need bacta?” Cody asked desperately. This time the medic didn’t glance up at him at all absorbed in pressing down forcefully on one of the darkest red stains pooling across the pale tunics, his other hand searching far more gently along the other side of the torso.

The General groaned, his feet kicking involuntarily, scraping the dust.

“No,” the medic said brusquely. “Bacta is for repairing clean injuries and accelerating healing. The General has internal injuries that need to be patched before we dunk him in bacta.”

Dunk him in bacta? Cody had never heard of such a thing. Bacta came on swabs and patches and ointment jars, not tubs to throw a whole person in.

He pinned the Jedi’s shoulders more firmly in an effort to keep him — both of them — as calm and still as possible.

Leading his men up the gorge, with its dry soil and faded patches of grass, hoping to make it over the crest and down into the ravine before dawn.

Cody walked a little ahead of the others, taking point.

He heard the clankers first.

The Commander gestured back to his men, silently ordering them to take whatever cover they could while he crept onwards, keeping low. The enemy sounded few in number, maybe twenty, outnumbering them by only 2 to 1. That was easy. His men could take two droids each without breaking a sweat. The real issue would be keeping the fight as quiet as possible. Their approach still needed to go unnoticed.

Cody hesitated a moment, then shot forwards and flung himself behind an enormous old tree with withered leaves, pressing himself against the trunk.

Nobody had seen him.

Taking a deep breath, he peered around the edge and took in the oncoming droids. He had been right. There were only fifteen, in reality, even better than he had hoped.

Their behavior was odd, though.

They all walked close together, not in their typical line formation, but centered around one droid in the middle of the pack that he couldn’t make out clearly. It was a different model from the others, but not one he was familiar with.

Cody zeroed in on it. Whatever this was, that droid needed to be dealt with.

He retreated back to the other vode, who were awaiting his word. “Fifteen clankers,” he hissed. “One of them is different from the others. Leave that one to me.”

They all murmured assent, a few of them tossing a salute in his direction, and at his signals began placing themselves strategically along the path, concealed behind bushes and stones.

All fell silent except for the sound of the oncoming droids.

A dry breeze rattled in the sun-dried branches like a tired sigh.

“Cody! No!” the sudden shout shattered the silence, shattered the oncoming ambush, ruined Cody’s plans — but he looked around sharply, searching for the owner of that familiar voice.

“General?”

“Pull the men back!” Kenobi roared out over the comm line, and still he was nowhere to be seen. “It’s a trap!”

“Where the fuck is that evac?” the medic muttered. Then he turned his head and screamed, “Where the fuck is that evac?!”

“Five minutes out!” a brother replied.

Cody looked to his medic companion for a reaction, waiting to see. Was five minutes good? Bad? Salvation? ...A death sentence?

The medic closed his eyes briefly.

“Keep him steady,” he said, “and either give him something to bite on or gag him. I need to remove some of this shrapnel before it penetrates too deeply.” He reached behind him for his bag. “And I may need to cauterize the wound to his thigh.”

Cody looked down at his Jedi, watching the blue eyes flutter open and closed, shockingly bright in the midst of all the red. Blood, and dirt, and burns.

Obi-Wan didn’t seem to be coherent enough to understand what was being said, but he was trying to speak, still writhing on the ground as much as his Commander tried to hold him still.

“It’s okay, sir, we’ve got you,” Cody said. He bent down lower to bring himself closer to the General, hoping to make himself understood. “We’ve got you, General, it’s going to be okay.”

“No,” Kenobi protested weakly, the words coming up with a cough and a hoarse sob. “No — it’s — have you — what —”

He dissolved into a fit of coughing. Tears sprang up in those blue eyes that had only ever smiled for them, and leaked down over the grime on his face, glistening in the blood, clinging to his eyelashes.

“Shhhh,” Cody hissed out in desperation. He didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

General Kenobi was a magnet for trouble, but he always survived, always managed to keep a level head, to smile for his men. And they, in turn, protected him as best they could so that he could do all those things.

He was untouchable because he was a Jedi.

He was untouchable because he was their Jedi.

...He was bleeding out in their arms.

“Cody,” his General choked out, eyes fixing on his face, a look of relief dawning in them that Cody didn’t understand. “Cody?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” his Commander said earnestly. “I’m here. We’ve got you.”

“But — I...” the General’s face pinched with pain, but his eyes remained wide and desperate and so, so blue as he stared up at Cody, fighting to speak. “The others? I... trap...my men?”

“They’re all right, you — you saved them,” Cody told him, his voice breaking.

His General’s face looked confused, uncertain. Uncomprehending. “...I... where... the plan. The men. The... we...” More blood seeped between his teeth, and Cody wondered slightly hysterically if his reassuring smile would ever be the same after this. “My men,” whispered the General. “The plan. I have to, I have to—!”

“No!” Cody cried, and he saw his Jedi flinch. “No,” he repeated, a little softer, leaning forward to make sure those blue eyes were looking into his own. “Don’t worry about that right now, just hold on. Hold on.”

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to speak again, and then the coherency in his eyes was ripped away at the same time as his back arched off the ground; his shoulders strained against Cody’s restraining hands.

“Hold him!” the medic barked.

Cody tried desperately to comply, but the General was shaking so hard it felt as if he were about break.

And then Obi-Wan screamed — a ragged, uncontrolled wail of agony.

The Commander searched the area for his General, but there was no sign of him except the voice yelling in his ears.

“Stay back, Cody! They have a new weapon!”

“What?” Cody asked.

Obi-Wan’s voice was strained. “There! It’s— go! Get back, all of you, get back!”

Cody scanned the droids through the trees but saw nothing. His General wasn’t making much sense.

But Cody was trained to obey his Jedi, and more than that, much more, he knew he wanted to. He trusted Kenobi, more than almost anyone.

Or maybe it was just that he trusted his General more than anyone else, full stop, because he didn’t protest when the Jedi came hurtling out of nowhere, dropping from a nearby ridge, and put himself directly between his men and the droids.

And he didn’t protest as he kept shepherding his men back down the way, while Obi-Wan ignited his saber just as the droids created the slope.

And he didn’t protest as Kenobi let go of his lightsaber, his weapon, and used the Force to guide it through the air, cutting down fourteen droids in a matter of seconds.

Cody trusted his General implicitly right up until the point where he flung out his arms, standing still, like a human shield between himself and his troops, as the last droid, the strange droid with the odd markings, erupted in a surge of flame that swallowed the world.

Even as Cody was thrown backwards, he saw, as if burned into his vision, a glimpse of Obi-Wan standing with his arms outstretched like a sacrifice, holding the hellfire at bay as if by some unseen wall, his expression serene.

And then, as Cody hit the ground and struggled to regain his feet, that invisible wall broke, and Obi-Wan took the impact of the bomb.

His General’s scream went on and on for what felt like an eternity but which could only have been seconds, and there was blood on his lips and his side was torn open and there was shrapnel everywhere, and—

More hands joined Cody’s, gently but firmly taking hold of the General’s wrists and elbows, clutching his ankles, cradling his head and keeping it still.

Cody looked up.

There was Waxer, and Boil, Barlex, and Longshot.

He could see others framed in the background, shielding the General from view and from the dust and debris stirred up by the relief team. Wooley had crouched next to the medic and was handing him items from his bag as soon as they were requested.

Waxer had tossed his bucket aside and was looking Cody dead in the eyes.

“We’ve got him,” he said reassuringly. “We’ve got him.”

Cody chose to believe him.

To trust his brothers and his Jedi.

Obi-Wan’s gaze was unfocused, but he looked at each of his men in turn, studying their faces, searching for something. Bloodied lips formed their names, faint beneath his unsteady breathing and periodic coughs, the moans of pain triggered by the medic’s steady hands.

Each trooper murmured a response, something soothing, something far, far calmer than the worry in their eyes allowed for.

Lastly, General Kenobi looked at Cody.

“Evac is here!” a trooper nearby shouted. “Sticker, prepare him for a lift! Med team is prepped for emergency surgery during the flight!”

The medic — Sticker, Cody registered, relieved that his panicked unrecognition earlier was gone — breathed a sigh of relief, rubbing his eye. With his wrist, because the fingers were stained deep red.

“You’ll be all right now, sir,” said Longshot.

“Oh, I know,” the General breathed, a smile peeking through the blood. “I have all of you, don’t I?”

_

[littlemisslipbalm]

“Similar Tastes” Pt. 2

Summary: After Harry and you leave the bar, you can’t stop fighting, but it leads to one of the best nights of your life

Did someone order smut with a side of smut and an extra topping of SMUT?!? because that’s what we’ve got and some cuteness at the end but holy shit.

You guys were so awesome about part 1 and then I got some requests to do a smutty part 2 so ENJOY, this sealed my fate to hell so yeah bahah. - not proofread bc the app is trash and posted before I was ready

Word Count: 3.8k | Warnings: SMUT, slight degradation kink?, daddy kink, it’s not as dirty as i thought it was now that i’m writing this warning

Pt. 1

-

“Ouch! Can you scoot back?”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously! I cannot believe you.”

You and Harry hadn’t made it the entire short trip back to his house without fighting. Despite how completely hot you were for each other, the bickering just never seemed to end. Now you were straddling his lap still inside his parked car in his driveway. You had decided kissing would cut out the talking, but now your ass was shoved uncomfortably against his steering wheel and you were feeling extremely crushed rather than sexy. And Harry wouldn’t move.

Harry’s lips peeled off of the side of your neck and glared up at you, “Let’s just go inside.”

You huffed, “Yeah, this isn’t working.”

He popped open the car side door and you climbed off of him and adjusted your top that now had your tits spilling out of it. Harry grinned at the sight, “Don’t need to put those away now, love, ‘bout to see it all soon.”

“Not if you keep speaking to me like that.” You began to stalk up to Harry’s front door, crossing your arms with your head held high. You had begun to question why you had agreed to go home with Harry when he truly could be a total jerk. He jogged to catch up with you and when he reached your side, his large hand landed a slap on your ass and you remembered why, he made you horny.

“Don’t be like that…” He whispered close to your ear and you bucked your head into his shoulder in response.

After opening the door and ushering the pair of you in, Harry’s hands pushed you up against the door with fervor and went to kiss you. As his wet pink lips were about to connect with yours, you turned your head and he only kissed your cheek. Exasperated, Harry’s forehead rested against yours. “What now?”

“Say sorry,” you stated.

“What?!” His head moved back and his eyes stared wildly at you in the dim lighting of the house.

“Apologize for being rude or you can forget about fucking me...all night long,” you smirked, feeling extremely powerful in this moment.

“Y/N…” Harry contemplated it for a minute, to give in and have a good night or continue to fight and do nothing. His growing erection tugged at his attention as it began to press into your leg and he decided his best option was to give in, “I’m sorry.”

“For what exactly?” Your head tilted as a finger trailed down his chest.

“For being rude…”

“And?”

“What else do you want me to say?”

“Apologize for how you’re always stepping on my toes.”

“Am not!” Harry was over your little power trip, “You got your apology, no let’s get back to what we’re actually here for.” He went in to kiss you and you granted him a peck before pulling back again.

“You’re unbelievable, Harry-” He ignored your words and cut you off by moving his mouth down to your neck, beginning to suck vigorously. Your body shivered at his touch, gripping onto his shoulder for some sort of purchase.

“Oh yeah, tell me how much you fucking hate me, sweetheart,” he breathed against your neck eventually. His hands were gripping both of your ass cheeks and the pressure of his dick against your thigh had your wetness growing instantly. Trying to choke down a moan, you whimpered, “I do hate you…”

He licked up the side of your neck and nipped at your ear lobe, whispering he said, “Sure ya do.” He was mocking you and you were loving it, feeling like you were about to melt in his hands. Like you had said earlier, you both had similar tastes in bed. So you felt ecstatic to actually be in his arms right now.

His lips pressed open mouth kisses along your jaw and you were trying, and failing, to keep your panting to a minimum. Your wetness was only growing as Harry continued to press his broad chest against your heaving breasts. He slipped a leg between yours, as he had in the bar alleyway, and pressed up into your clothed heat.

“Fuck..” you sighed.

“Panting like a fuckin’ bitch in heat for my cock, huh? Can feel your wet pussy throbbing for me, pet.” Harry spat out as he continued to suck on every inch of skin that was exposed, from your lips to your neck to your cleavage. It felt amazing, but you wanted more.

Suddenly, Harry flipped your body around so that your front was pressed against the doorway, his hard dick pressed between your ass cheeks. His lips went back to your neck, one of his hands gripped low on your hip and the other went to hold onto your throat. His hold on your neck caused your head to be shoved back on his chest. He was constricting your breathing in the most perfect way, turning you on even more at just the fact that he knew exactly what he was doing. You whimpered out meekly at his words and actions, feeling blissfully overwhelmed. You managed to push your ass up against his crotch more, but that was about the extent of your will power in that moment.

“Remember when you were doing this with that woman? Your little pretty mouth on her neck, your body moving perfectly against hers. Had to force myself to look away, was starting to get hard from just the sight.”

You moaned as you felt Harry’s large hand go down and cup your mound over your pants. You cursed yourself for wearing trousers out, then you wouldn’t have been matching with Harry and he’d now have extremely easy access to where you wanted him now.

Gaining a little strength, you pulled from Harry’s grasp and faced him again. Your hands began to tug at the few buttons that were still done on his shirt. As you worked, you pushed him further into the house hoping he’d get the hint to take you to his room.

“Then that actual asshole came up. You looked fucking hot with all that rage in your eyes,” Harry sighed as he pulled you to his room, his hands never leaving yours even if you weren’t kissing. “Wanted to beat him up, though, for what he said.”

“Yeah, I’d never seen you that angry,” you finished with his shirt and Harry finished pulling it off of him. Your hands ran down his chest, feeling the grooves created by his muscles and seeing the black ink of his tattoos, “Fucking hot…” Then they went for his belt, but Harry stopped you, “You need to be much less dressed, pet.” He tugged off your tiny navy top and you reached around for your bras clasp, again he stopped you and took his own nimble fingers to take it off for you. As the bra slid down your arms, Harry’s lips flew to your right nipple, engulfing it with a slight groan. A hand ran up your naked figure and squeezed at the other one as his tongue swirled at your nipple, causing it to pebble.

Then he rasped, “Pants.” But you simply stood there, staring at him with terribly large doe eyes. You were throbbing for him, but you wanted him to be more aggressive with you. When you did nothing, his mouth and hands left your body and he stood up straight. His large body towered over yours and a smirk grew on his face as he scanned your frame.

“I said, pants.”

“Why don’t you do it yourself.”

“Oh, so you’re also a stuck up princess in the bedroom, too? Makes sense.”

Harry was quick to unbutton your pants and then yank them, along with your thong, down your legs, leaving you completely exposed. As you went to kiss him, he roughly turned you around again, pulling your back into him and sitting on his bed. His arm was wrapped around your waist as his head rested on your shoulder. He widened his legs, causing yours to follow suit, which led you to be completely spread for him. Your breathing was heavy, your tits heaving up and down in anticipation for what Harry was about to do next. With his free hand, he rested it on your right knee and began to drag his fingertips up your thigh at an agonizingly slow rate. Your hips bucked in anticipation when he was about halfway up your thigh. He wasn’t kissing you at all, his wide eyes trained on your lower body on top of his clothed legs. You felt him swallow hard against you due to your movement on top of his dick.

“Keep still, pet, trying to focus.”

His arm around your waist gripped tighter and you let out a shaky breath. His fingertips moved further away from your heat as punishment. Your legs widened, trying to entice Harry to move faster as you laid against his toned body. The heat that his body emitted was burning your skin. The way his soft skin of his chest felt against your back was intoxicated, you wanted to touch and kiss every inch of it. But Harry wasn’t happy with the movement, his hands stopped again. You both were in agony, needy for each other, but the name of the game was ‘similar tastes’, so you both knew you loved the chase.

“I told you,” Harry growled, “to not move. Do you just want Daddy to stop? Is that what you want, pet?”

And there it was. The daddy kink. You moaned loudly at his words, unable to hold back now.

“Fuck you,” you spat.

He tensed, but then he continued his slow travel to your center, his fingers growing impatient. His arm around your waist slid up to your throat again, “Now that really is no way to talk to me now is it? M’gonna have to punish you, yeah?” Your head strained to look back at Harry and he allowed it. Your eyes meeting his and you bit your lip in response, his fingers just at the fleshy crease between your thigh and your pussy now. “You’re filthy, though, so I know that’s what you’ve wanted all along, hmm?”

His rough hand now cupped over your bare mound, “Answer me, pet.”

“Yes,” you whimpered.

“You’re forgetting something…Not gonna touch you until you say it.”

You whispered, almost inaudibly, “Daddy…”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He said happily, his voice still containing that low rasp as he gripped over your pussy, not dipping in yet just holding it tightly. His grip also tightened on your neck a bit and you felt completely held up by Harry’s two hands. Your breathing got even heavier and then you screamed. Harry let a single finger slip between your folds and the juices came spilling out around it. You were so wet for him and the small movement had you pushing down hard on his hand. He flicked it up to your clit and swirled around there for a moment before pushing back down and inside your weepy hole.

“So fucking wet, it’s almost unbelievable. Except I know what a slut you are, so fucking needy for my cock.” You had no idea what to say, he knew exactly what he was doing to you and you loved being taken control of like this in the bedroom, even with Harry - maybe especially with Harry.

He took you off of his lap and threw you onto the bed, your body splayed out for him, your dripping pussy glistening up at him through the darkness.

“What? No comeback?” He began, undoing his belt and taking off his pants. His hard cock sprang free, leaving him completely naked as well. “Who knew all I had to do was get you in bed to finally shut you up?” He spread your legs apart again, knees falling out by your hips. He stared down at your naked body and devoured it with his eyes.

“Come on, tell me you hate me. Lie to my face, Y/N.” His body came between your legs, his lips hovering over your dripping cunt for a moment before continuing up your body until he was face to face with you. His now freed dick was laying perfectly nestled between your pussy lips as he stared down at you. The head pressing down on your plumped clit. His neck strained as he held himself up and your eyes flickered down between your bodys to see where they were connected. His golden skin that stretched perfectly over every dip and curve of his body had you screaming inside. This moment was a thousand degrees and you wanted it to last forever.

“Hello? Is there anyone still in there?” Harry took a hand from beside your face and tapped on your cheek. You nodded about to open your mouth and say something coherent. “Actually, you know what, save your lies, I have a better idea for when you can tell me them.”

He leaned down and pressed an oddly sweet kiss to your lips. Then he shifted the pair of you back further on the bed. He leaned back on his knees and gripped his dick in one hand. He reached his other out to your mouth, “Spit,” you easily complied. He switched hands, gave his dick a few pumps and then lined it up with your opening. Without any further warning his thrusted deeply inside of you. For the second time that night, you screamed, and then you screamed out Harry’s name when he gave you a second thrust. He had your body arched off the bed as he sat up on his knees with your legs wrapped around his hips, your heels digging into the top of his ass, and his hands gripping your hips. His abs were rippling as he held the two of you up. But then he stopped, his green eyes were now the color of a dark abyss and they were boring straight through you. You whined out, “Harry, what the fuck?”

“Tell me a lie.”

“What?”

“If you want me to keep fucking your needy little cunt, tell me one reason you hate me. For every lie, you get another thrust of my cock.”

His words with his cock sheathed inside of you almost made you cum right there. His dick was completely stretching and filling you up and you could feel your juices dripping out of where you were connected. You needed him to move.

“I fucking hate you…” you seethed. “Uh-huh, tell me why,” Harry egged you on and began to pull out slightly, the movement making you shudder and struggle for words. “Because you wear the same clothes as me.”

“Good.”

He pulled completely out until just his tip was at your entrance. You felt empty and wanted him back, he pushed harshly back inside, both of you moaned out at the feeling.

“I hate you because you think you’re the best at everything,” you moaned out, Harry thrusted.

“Right back at you,” He growled.

“I hate you because you steal the spotlight.”

“Again, you.” Harry thrusted.

As much as he liked this game he had created, the sweat on his forehead was starting to pool, he needed to fuck you faster or else he was going to lose it. Seeing you laid out around him, writhing in pleasure, panting insults as you gripped the sheets and your tits, it was all too much.

“I hate you...because you’re too fucking slow at this,” you gasped as he gave you another slow thrust.

He leaned forward and kissed one of your tits before sticking his tongue into your mouth and sucking harshly. You kissed back fervently, needing any sort of release from the agony of the pressure building inside of you.

“You’re right, you’re taking too long to give me even mediocre lies,” he whispered once he pulled away.

With his dick inside of you, Harry took your legs from around him and flipped you around him. Again you screamed and Harry smirked at the sound, he loved to hear the way you sounded just because of him. He gripped your hips from behind now, fingers digging into your fleshy hips and ass, marking you as his. He did a quick preliminary thrust to test out the feel of this new position. With your head already pushed into the bed and your hands grabbing out in front of you, you moaned loudly.

“That’s better,” Harry muttered, taking one hand to land a loud smack onto the side of your ass. You jumped forward, but his other hand held you in place. “Be a good girl.”

Then he’s off, his hips snapping into action, pistoning his cock deep inside your folds. The sounds you two made with your body were obscene in the most literal sense. The squelching of your juices when his cock disappeared inside of you mixed with the hearty moans Harry and you were both emitting was a symphony of pleasure.

Eventually your moans turned to high-pitched repeated chants of “Uh-huh” as your release neared. Harry’s hips never slowing down, possibly moving even faster, he enjoyed hearing you come undone beneath him, your body bouncing just with the sheer force of his dick inside of you. “Gonna cum?” His thrusts never ceasing, his chest glistening with sweat as his cross pounded against it with each push inside of you. He rubbed over the red spot on your ass from him slapping you before.

You moaned out, “Yes daddy!”

“Tell me how much you hate me again?” He asks, pounding relentlessly, trying to tip you over the edge. He slaps your ass again, stinging your cheek and sending that feeling throughout your body, “Tell me.” His moans were out of control, yet his voice when he spoke was almost completely calm, if only slightly breathless.

He pulls out, punishing you for not answering fast enough. “Harry…” you whine. He grabs your legs and pulls you to the edge of the bed so now your feet are on the ground. He kicks your feet so that you widen your legs and shoves his angry red cock back inside your walls. He’s just about ready to cum as well, but he wants you to say something first. He begins speeding back up to his original speed as he grabs your body and brings it flush against his. Both your bodies are clammy against one other, beads of sweat running down your spine and between his pecs. He brings one hand to your tit and squeezes it hard, another moan escapes your mouth. Then, his other goes down your stomach and lands on you clit. As he begins to rub, he asks you again to tell him.

Finally, you breath out, in time with his thrusts, “I” “Fucking” “Hate” “You” “Ha-aahhhh” You don’t get to finish your sentence, your body begins to convulse in Harry’s grip, your orgasm overtaking any brain function. His dick is still bobbing in and out of you, but Harry released your body from against his, and you fall back down to the bed.

As he chases his own release, he moans out in complete euphoria how your pussy has gripped and tightened around his cock after your orgasm. It’s like it was milking him and his thrusts became completely erratic. Finally he released, his load spurting inside you and painting your walls with cum. He collapsed on top of your body on the bed, exhausted.

“I hate you, too,” he whispered into your ear, pecking a kiss on your cheek that wasn’t pressed into the bed.

As you laid there, coming down from your highs, you began to feel bits of Harry’s cum drip down your leg.

“Harry, you need to get off of me.”

“But I like it here, feels nice.”

“Your cum is starting to drip out of me, not to mention your dick’s still in there too.”

“Like I said, feels nice.”

He was right, it was hot. Feeling the pressure of him all around you after what had just happened. You were completely consumed by this man. He was everything for however long you two had just been fucking and you had loved it. The way he had taken control, the way he’d made you feel, all of it.

After a few more moments, however, he did listen to your request and slid out of you. He went to his bathroom to clean the two of you up and brought you back a t-shirt so you didn’t have to be naked.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, staring down at Harry who had just wiped down your pussy with a warm washcloth.

He nodded and rose back up to dispose of the washcloth somewhere else, leaving you in the center of his bed, swimming in the random t-shirt he had given you. You had slowly regained your normal pattern of breathing, but you were completely wiped out with exhaustion. When

Harry came back, you asked, “What time is it?”

“Half past 2”

“Shit…” you looked around, not even seeing your own clothes, “that’s late.”

“You can stay here?”

“I don’t have to.”

“It’s okay with me,” Harry shrugged.

“Really?”

“Of course, I meant what I said earlier, Y/N. I care about you, I’m not going to send you out to find your way home at 3 am.” He’d found a clean pair of boxers and slid onto the bed next to you. He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear and you stared up at him.

“I know what we did just now was, like, a hate fuck...But I don’t hate you, Harry.”

He laughed softly at your words, “I gathered.”

You swatted at his bicep, but smiled brightly, “Shut up!”

“Told you to tell me lies and you told me reasons you hated me, meaning you actually don’t hate me at all.”

“I know that, I was there!”

“Oh my god, it’s never ending with you, huh?” Harry moaned as he wrapped his arms around you and brought the pair of you into a laying down position, with your body on top of his.

“Ok, daddy,” you mocked.

“Hey! I know you liked that just as much as I did,” he huffed.

You grinned, your face millimeters from his also smiling face. “Yeah, yeah I did,” you say. Then your voice grew a lot more serious and a lot softer. You stared straight into Harry’s eyes and his expression grew soft. “Y’know as much as I like passionate, hate sex..I also like, um, y’know, like passionate, loving sex.”

“I - me too. We could try that, too, next time,” Harry’s eyes brightened at your suggestion and he ran a hand down the backside of your hair, petting you softly, comforting you.

“We might need to be a little nicer to each other, in regular life, too,” your statement coming out more as a question. Your fingers fiddling with themselves on top of Harry’s broad chest.

“I think I can manage that. Maybe we can talk about what we’re planning on wearing to places beforehand so that we don’t end up wearing matching outfits.”

“Or! If this ever did become serious, we could be one of those couples who coordinated their outfits.”

You both burst out in laughter at your facetious suggestion. Simultaneously you both said, “Never!”

Harry craned his neck up and planted a kiss to your lips. You smiled into the kiss, pressing your lips down so he could lay back and kiss you more easily. His hand cradled the back of your neck and your lips danced together softly, enjoying each other’s presence.

-

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