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quirklessidiot · 4 years

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Title: coward :: coming clean Pairing: Y/N x Miya Atsumu Genre: angst, romance, and very slow burn [ex to lovers au] Warnings: Cursing, alchohol, mentions of unprotected sex, unplanned pregnancy, and mentions of abortion

Synopsis: You try to push him away from you but he isn’t taking any of it, the much long-awaited confrontation is there but you’re still finding a way out.

notes:

have yall seen the new season?? mY FUCKING HEART MAN NSNDNND it got me so stoked i literally wrote something about kita after that trailer skdjjdm kita is so underrated. I love him.

also, a huge thank you for the 200+ followers. Ma’am i literally only had this tumbler a month ago and im already celebrating a lot of milestones, hence i present you a more angsty chapter! I hope you’ll love it <3

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“You’re on gossip sites.”

“Tsum-tsum, why are you so close to L/N-san? I thought you hated her.”

“Riku-chan’s calling me-”

“Everyone shut up.” The setter throws the ball on the ground, “It’s not what it fucking looked like.”

“Can we talk, ‘tsumu?” Osamu’s voice resonates the most and Miya Atsumu knows where this is going already by the sound of it. He was surprised to see his brother come by today but when he sees why, he takes it back.

No wonder.

He follows him to the quieter side of the gym, he notices the tense air between them and he knows what's about to follow. He hopes that Osamu does this quickly, he has to practice well since he needs to impress those brats when the game comes up and try to let them have their eyes on him and not on Tobio and Shoyo.

“What the hell are you thinking?” His brother growls, “You have a fucking girlfriend. Y/N has kids and is very much in love with the dead guy who isn’t yo-”

“Why the fuck are you all getting up my ass when its about Y/N?” he suddenly cuts his brother off, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched, “It's been that way since you met her eight years ago. Just tell me that you didn’t like her from the start. You didn’t like her because she was different.”

“I didn’t like her because she wasn’t good for you.” the grey-haired twin barked back in reply, “In case ya don’t remember, You were a fucking mess after she left, Atsumu. You were almost not able to make it into the jackals because of what she did!”

Osamu wasn’t calling him by his nickname anymore, it seemed that the weight of the situation was too serious for him.

“Well, I’m here now aren’t I?”

“And you’re getting involved with her again. Can’t you give it a fucking rest already?”

“No.”

“Miya Atsumu.” He glowered, grabbing his brother by the collar of his jersey, “Don’t throw a good woman and your career away for someone like her.”

“I’m not throwing shit, ‘samu.” He hissed, slapping his hand away but before he could walk out, the younger twin grabs him and yanks him back, swinging a fist right at his face. The team members of the black jackals are immediately thrown into panic and chaos with what’s happening. Hinata and Bokuto grabs onto Osamu restraining him from damaging the setter even more while Shion and Meian hold back the blonde setter from throwing a punch, “Stop acting like a fuckin’ brat, ‘tsumu.” The twin yelled while Atsumu flipped him off with a middle finger, clearly showing no signs of restraint.

Sakusa remains far from them and snorts underneath his breath, completely indifferent, “Fuckin’ idiots.”

The twins end up at the infirmary right after, Atsumu lets out a heavy sigh as he recalls the feeling of his brothers fist. They’ve never fought this bad since high school and Osamu was never one to be triggered easily.

This just showed how grave the situation was.

A curtain separates them both as they lay on their separate beds, “You’re stupid, ‘tsumu.” Osamu calls out his twin as he lays on the bed of the infirmary, a patch on his forehead and a bandaged hand. Atsumu, on the other hand, has a busted lip and swollen cheek.

“I’m not fucking five, ‘samu and whatever you saw in that picture wasn’t what it looked like.”

“But you still love her very much.”

Silence ensued between the pair and Osamu breaks it off with a long sigh, “Ya gonna be some scrub that chases after her again or something? Break off with your girlfriend right now who looks and acts better than her-”

“Stop.” Atsumu cuts his brother off, sitting up to open the curtain to face him head on, “so, so what if I still like her? So what if I want to break off with Riku and be with her and try to take that bastards place?”

“Yer outta your mind.”

“It’s my fuckin’ life.”

“It is but I’m not watching you throw yourself away for that woman.” Osamu paused, “Just what the fuck do you see in her? She feels nothing for ya, even when you dated-”

“Now that’s a fucking lie.” Atsumu defended you, eyes glowering right at his twin, “You didn’t see how Y/N would take care of me whenever we were alone. You don’t see how selfless she was most of the time and how she doesn’t expect me to be some character that everyone expects, shit, you don’t even see how she’d patiently sit down and just listen me babble off about how bad my day was when I didn’t even know she was from a fucking bad family with a bad life back then!”

Atsumu is panting from that long explanation and he’s shaking because why couldn’t they see it? Why couldn’t they see how much you tried back then? How relationships were so out of your comfort zone but you force yourself to try it because he asked you too. He feels sick, he feels sick that they couldn’t see. That they could only see the tip of the iceberg.

“Yet she doesn’t feel the same for you.” Osamu points out, “Not anymore. So stop clinging onto her with those past memories of yours and move on, ‘tsumu. Fuckin’ suck it up, life isn’t fair.”

“Nope, don’t wanna.”

“ ‘tsumu-”

“I-I’m breaking up with Riku. I want Y/N back in my life, I want her. I-I’ve never wanted anything so badly since volleyball, ‘samu. If I have to wait again, shit, I-I don’t fucking mind.”

Osamu sees the glint of conviction in his eyes and lets out another hefty sigh, god, he feels like he’s aging faster because of his twin, “I know you won’t listen to me.” he settled, he knew that if Atsumu wanted something, he wouldn’t stop until he got it, “Just know that I fucking told you so.”

You’re wary.

After that little stint your mother had pulled, she kept calling you and bothering you. It also didn’t help that you ended up on tabloids because someone had caught wind of that little moment you and Atsumu had. If it weren’t for your kids' over-excitement on Atsumu’s promise, you wouldn’t be here, “...Y/N-san? Are you alright?” Sugawara asks, tilting his head in curiosity as you enter the arena.

Some people seemed to have recognized you and the kids that you had to hold onto them tightly in case anyone did try to approach you.

“I’m good.”

“Kaasan, kaasan, I saw a super big picture of Hinata-san!” Youta called out, pointing at a rather big banner of the orange-haired blocker.

“I think I saw Kageyama-san buying milk, can I follow him, kaasan?” Yuuto adds, blinking innocently as he looked at one of the stalls.

Sugawara is absolutely in awe by your calmness in this situation, he knows that you’re probably feeling far from alright after all those gossip articles came out. Atsumu, of course, tries to lessen your burden by letting out a public statement that you were his good friend back in college but it didn’t really help since someone tweeted a picture of the both of you back in college with the caption that you were exes.

“Could you do me a favor, Sugawara-san?” you turn to the man, “Do you mind switching seats with me? Stay with the boys in front while I just stay at your seat?”

“Sure but wouldn’t Atsumu be-”

“Please.” You frowned, giving your ticket to him, “I’ll take the kids right after the match.”

The boys looked at you in complete wonderment when you didn’t follow them to the front row. You maintained a good distance as the game started, the players being introduced on the big screen. Your eyes narrow when Atsumu gets out of the dugout and gazes at your kids in confusion then around the crowd as if he was looking for someone.

“Don’t be silly.What feelings would there be but hatred?”

“It’s anything but that, L/N-san.”

You felt your fists clench as soon as the game started, you wanted to direct your focus to the game but Inunaki’s words kept bothering you and pestering you throughout the whole thing. Why did Atsumu like doing this to himself? Was this some sort of premonition? Were you going to have to tell him?

What if it ended up like your parents?

Would your kids end up like you?

Cold, untrusting, and anxious?

Would you end up like your mother?

A borderline alcoholic, desperate for a man’s love?

Would Atsumu wake up and realize one day that this was all a mistake and call you one too? Blaming you for every single bad thing in his life?

You held your doll tightly on your hands as you held your breath behind the pillar, you had just come home from Daiki’s house as you heard the loud voices of your parents arguing again. For the past years, it seemed to have worsened and you spent more time around your friend’s house rather than this cold and big empty place you called home.

“...are you doing? It's the middle of the day! Stop drinking!” you hear your father bellow.

“What’s it to you? Shouldn’t you be around with that young woman? That whore you proudly call your business associate?”

You flinch as you hear those harsh words and the sound of a bottle breaking, it seemed like the argument was particularly bad today. You shakily make your way up to your room, wanting to avoid this ordeal and skip dinner but fate wasn’t on your side today.

Despite your light footsteps, they seem to have noticed your presence.

Your father’s eyes soften just a bit while your mother’s remain cold. As much as possible, you grew up wanting to avoid those scary and expressionless eyes. At the young age of five, you feared your mother and loathed your father at the same time but that didn’t stop the fleeting feeling of wanting them to change. Wanting to feel the warmth and youth that every child craved for.

You suck in a deep breath, “I-I’m home, okaasan, otosan.”

“You’re always out these days, Y/N.” her voice is cold, far from the warmth that a mother should have.

“I-I was out with Daiki.”

“With that boy again?” a frown immediately paints her features, a small tsk under her breath to signal how disappointed she was of you yet again, “Aren’t you supposed to be studying? You said you wanted to skip a grade this year.”

“I-I am.” you replied, “B-but Daiki-”

“All you need to do is study and get good grades, Y/N.” she cuts you off, walking close to you, the smell of alcohol growing stronger, “Is that something too hard to do? Are you being ungrateful now?”

You turn to your father for help but he remains unmoved, was he really going to watch your mother do this to you? You hold onto your doll tightly, trying to control yourself. You shouldn’t cry, especially not in front of them.

“N-No, okaasan…”

“Then why are you crying, Y/N?”

Your eyes widen as you feel the wet substance flowing down. No, no-

“Answer me.” she repeats, you feel the tears flowing down faster, “Why are you crying, Y/N? Are you feeling ungrateful? Is that how it is-”

“(M/N) That’s enough!” Your father finally says but your mother continues to ignore your father.

“Don’t you think we should tell her that she shouldn’t feel sad?” she expressed, telling your father as if you weren’t standing there, “After all, we didn’t have her aborted, she should be grateful we let her live well with three meals a day and expensive clothes and belongings. Even if she was a mistake.”

You're shaking so hard at the moment, you didn’t like where this was going at all. Your father can’t respond to your mother’s blank tone, did he agree too? Were you, were you really just a mistake? Countless questions flooded your head as she walked close to you, her cold presence looming over you even more so today. With the same blank and expressionless tone, she says, "if you probably hadn't been born, we would've been happier. We'd have better lives, Y/N. So don't go around and cry and think you got it bad, you hear me? Your sadness is nothing compared to ours. It's nothing, Y/N. So stop being ungrateful."

You watch as the game comes to an end. You had zone out for the most part, the fleeting memory of your past and your anxiety bubbling up couldn’t keep you still. You texted Sugawara that you’d meet him and the boys at the front.

You were about to leave your seat when you saw the blonde approach the kids after the game, ruffling their hairs and pinching their cheeks with a huge smile. Why couldn’t you be as open as Atsumu? Why couldn’t you express yourself well?

You shut your eyes tight and turn to the exit, right, you were a coward. You didn’t face things like this head-on, you ran from them because in all your life, the only thing you knew was fear from people you expected love from.

“Y/N…”

You turn to find Atsumu standing there, still in his jersey and a towel hung on his shoulder like he had just ran out to chase you. Where was Sugawara and the kids? Why weren’t they here yet? What is he even doing here? You grab his wrist and immediately pull him towards a private area.

“Are you out of your mind? What are you doing? You have a girlfrie-”

“We broke up.” he cuts you off.

“W-what?”

“We broke up.” He repeats, “I couldn’t stay with her anymore, Y/N.”

You clenched your fists, what was he even thinking? Wouldn’t the rumors worsen if he broke up with her now?

“I-I can’t let you go again.” Atsumu confessed, throwing all his pride out the window again for you because damn it all, you are worth it, “I can’t keep pretending that I’ve moved on when I’m clearly hung up on you.”

“What are you doing?” You spat, anger slowly creeping in, all the pent up emotion towards him being released, “Why would you do that?”

Atsumu notices the change of emotion, you’re getting angry. It’s a complete contrast to what he was expecting, he’d expect the calm and cool exterior, even expected you to cooly reject him like the past but this, this was new, “Why can’t I?”

“Are you out of your mind?” You exclaimed, “I left you! I have kids from another man-”

“So?” He asks, walking closer to you. The familiar smell of perfume and sweat invaded your senses, something you were accustomed to when you were dating him back then. He traps you between the wall and him. You can see the busted lip, what happened to him? Did he got into a fight? You feel like your mind was turning blank by the sudden events. You want to say something, anything but he’s rendering you speechless again, “What if I tell you I don’t care? What if I tell you that I still feel the same even after all this time?”

“Y-You're insane...I-I’m in love with someone else-” you tried to lie but you remember this is Miya Atsumu, he doesn’t give two shits and was willing to work as hard as he could to get what he wanted.

“Y/N, your kids told me that the bastard left. Why didn’t you tell me?” he cuts you off, this time, his voice seemed disappointed and angry yet you didn't know if it was towards you.

“W-what would you have done then?”

“If you’d come back to me then,” he paused, voice turning soft, “I would’ve helped you. I would’ve been there to stand in as a father if you even needed one.”

You’re trembling at his confession, were those words really from the heart?

“Y/N, I don’t know what happened between you and that guy.” he laughs, he didn’t expect it to be like this, that even after six years he’d still be pinning over the same woman who repeatedly broke his heart, “I don’t know what happened between you and your fucked-up family. All I do know is that I’m still in love with you and I’m willing to wait here until you’re ready. I won’t ever leave, Y/N. I-I don’t think I ever will.”

“You’re crazy.” You shakily point out, you’re in a fit of rage. You’re angry at him, you’re angry that he still lowers himself to you when he could do so much better, you’re angry that he still feels the same after all the shit you put him through, most of all, you’re angry at yourself because you couldn’t own up and tell him about everything.

Atsumu slowly holds up his hands, wanting to cup your cheeks but it is immediately swatted away. He notices that you’re trembling now, your facade, slowly crumbling.

“What made you think that I’d come back to you?” Your voice was trying to maintain it’s cold and emptiness tone yet your eyes showed the complete opposite, “Please be selfish for once, Miya-san. Just because you give your all to me, does not mean I’ll return it. I hope I really don’t see you again.”

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#haikyuu imagines #haikyu!! fanfics #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu angst #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu imagine #atsumu x reader #atsumu imagines #miya atsumu scenarios #miya atsumu fanfiction #miya atsumu #coward series #haikyuu atsumu #miya twins

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since0202 · 3 years

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Chapter 20: B-word

Grace woke up to the soft glow of Paul’s digital clock on his nightstand: it read 5:02 a.m.. She felt exceptionally warm, a feeling she was coming to be very familiar with sleeping in bed with a member of the pack. Paul’s white t-shirt hung loose on her frame and was the only thing she was wearing. She crept out of bed to the bathroom quickly to pee. When she looked in the mirror to take in the state of herself, she placed a hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle.

Her cheeks were flushed red, and she let her fingers caress the red warmth. Her hair was disheveled and her eyes held their half lidded shape somewhere between sleep and a flutter of immense pleasure. Her mind lingered back to just a few hours ago as she and Paul were clutched together, Grace on top of him this time moving needy and quick over him as he cradled his hands on her hips and ass helping her to move up and down on him and sucking softly at her breast.

She pulled the hand across her mouth back to gingerly touch her lips that were swollen and soft from rough, wanting kisses that asked for more and more. She quickly combed fingers through her hair to smooth it down, snapping herself from her reverie, and then crept back into Paul’s room looking for her clothes. She had to get back to the Cullen’s before Bella woke up. She was going to tell Bella about Paul, but she just didn’t want to cause a fuss so early in the morning. As she shuffled quietly around the room gathering her things, she heard Paul stir from the bed.

“Mmm, where do you think you’re going before the sun’s even up?” his deep morning voice made her lower body tingle and she smiled warmly, whispering:

“I don’t want anyone to think I’ve been kidnapped and my honor taken under the cover of night. I have a reputation to remain on this rez,” Grace laughed. As she spotted her underwear just under his bed and leaned close to get it, he reached out with one swift arm and grabbed her. She shrieked trying to turn out of his grasp, but he held fast and pulled her to him, pressing her back against his warm chest. Grace giggled and tried to pretend to struggle against him as the hand he had wrapped around her belly snaked its way up toward her breasts.

“Paul for real, I gotta go!” Grace protested only half serious. He smiled, kissing on her neck and grumbling low in her ear:

“You wiggling is not helping your case here.” She could feel how much isn’t wasn’t helping, alright. Paul hadn’t bothered to put his boxers back on after the third time they’d gone at each other last night, so there was nothing between them—she felt him pressed against her back loud and clear.

“They’re going to worry!” Grace tried again, turning her head ever so slightly so his kisses could land closer to her lips.

“Letting my nearly naked girlfriend leave my bed to run back to house full of vampires does not appeal at all to your short-fuse boyfriend,” his other hand had pushed under her waist and was moving it’s way down her hips, sliding between her thighs and pushing them open. Grace let out a gasp as he gently stroked her there—she closed her eyes and leaned her head back, triggering an eagerness in Paul to roughly kiss on her throat and clutch her breast.

“Say you’re my boyfriend again,” Grace exhaled, eyes still closed. Paul chuckled running his lips across the edge of her ear before saying,

“Maybe later. Don’t want to wear my name out,” he teased before fully cupping her mound and pushing down, causing Grace to instinctively arch her back. He quickly entered her from behind, rushing into her and causing Grace to let out a sharp cry before happily matching his rhythm as early morning light poured through his window.

6:14 a.m.

Grace clicked the front door of the Cullen home softly behind her before hurrying up the steps to her guest room. On the landing, Rosalie was standing at the other end of the hallway, arms crossed and giving her a knowing smile.

“And where have you been all night?” Rosalie asked, not trying to keep her voice down. Grace looked around panicked and held out a hand.

“I was, was, was, uuuuhh, tending to business on the rez,” Grace said quickly and not convincingly.

“Well, your business stinks. I can smell you from here,” Rosalie wrinkled her nose and turned to walk back toward the study.

“Thanks,” Grace breathed to an empty hallway before quickly retreating into the guest room. She made a beeline for the shower, trying to smell herself. She didn’t think she smelled that bad, but who knows.

Grace took her time in the shower, letting her mind wander back to last night as she touched parts of her body that Paul had lingered on, clutched to, or gripped. She knew what would be waiting for her on the other side of all of this. Someone was going to get hurt, but she needed to sit in this moment of happiness for just a moment longer.

Before she had left, much to the continued protesting of Paul, she begged him to do his best not to let what had happened creep into his head during rounds. He gave her a wicked grin and had the audacity to ask why, before she let out an aggravated groan and said: “I’d really like all of this to be a ‘your-eyes-only’ thing.”

She motioned up and down to her body which Paul was aggressively staring at.

“Say no more,” he said seriously. Grace had a feeling that watching a pack member drool over or make a comment about Paul’s picture of her naked body would result in some serious mauling.

Grace didn’t bother drying her hair, opting to let it dry natural and wavy before pulling on some dark wash jeans, a black fitted t-shirt and grey zip up sweatshirt. Grace plugged in her phone and before going downstairs to appear totally normal and not like she had been rolling around in bed with her newly anointed boyfriend last night, she checked her phone.

SMS Text—6:33 a.m.: Paul

Be safe. I’ll call you after rounds tonight

Signed, your boyfriend.

Grace laughed before quickly typing her reply:

I will. Thanks for last night < 3

I’ll talk to you soon, from your very exhausted girlfriend

She clipped her phone shut and left it on the nightstand and contemplated mussing up her sheets to make it look like she had slept there last night. Shaking her head, she left them perfectly made up instead and made her way down to the kitchen, peeking around the corner to scope it out before busting in like she owned the place.

Alice was tentatively at the stove prodding at pancakes when Grace came into view with her hands folded in front of her.

“Good morning!” Alice cried. “Oh my goodness, I didn’t think you’d be up so early!” Alice said, a tone of lilted recognition in her voice.

“Oh!” Grace said a little surprised as she came to sit at the island across from Alice, “Just an early riser, I guess. School’s been a grind lately so I’m used to it I guess.”

“Right,” Alice looked at her with a knowing smile and then back at her pancakes, “Well! Breakfast is not ready just yet, I’m trying to learn the perfect brown of a pancake, but they’ll be ready before you know it! Help yourself to some coffee.”

Bella woke up a couple hours later and stumbled still in her pajamas into the kitchen while Grace and Alice chatted away easily.

“You’re chipper this morning,” Bella said off hand through a yawn as Alice placed a cup of tea in front of her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Grace said aghast. Could Bella really tell so quickly?

“Pink cheeks, happier than I’ve seen in weeks,” Bella said sleepily as she leaned into her cup. Grace looked at her over her second cup of coffee and raised her eyebrows. “You’re happy is all, jeez,” Bella laughed.

“Thank you, I am. Very happy.” She enunciated the last two words and broke out in a giggles as she made eye contact with Alice. Grace had found it very easy to get along with a feel close with Alice. She understood now why Bella liked her too. Alice was easy to love, warm, knowing, but always true.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bella echoed Grace’s earlier statement. Alice finished cutting some fresh bright peppers and scattered them elegantly across Bella’s stack of pancakes before sliding it in front of her.

Alice looked to Grace for permission who gave a short nod and eye roll before Alice blurted out excitedly, “She’s got a boyfriend. A real official boyfriend!” She finished the announcement with a squeal of utter delight. Bella almost choked on her tea.

“What?! Oh my god, really? Jake?!” Bella said wide eyed. It was Grace’s turn to choke on her coffee. Between cough and sputters that she got out she shook her head no.

“No! No, no, no. Paul!” Grace said before clearing her throat and saying, “Paul Lahote is my boyfriend.” The words rolled off her tongue easily and she liked the taste of them. Paul Lahote was hers. Her boyfriend. She crossed her legs to help quiet the throb that had returned when she thought about last night. Get a grip, Grace. She told herself.

“Oh Paul!” Bella said somewhat surprised before she changed her tone and said, “That’s so great! You guys are-are great together.”

“Yikes, Bella,” Rosalie said as she entered the kitchen and sat next to Grace. Bella squirmed uncomfortably in her seat.

“It’s an easy mistake to make,” Grace interjected. “Honestly, I get around,” she toasted herself and bust out laughing. Bella relaxed and laughed to shaking her head.

“So what happened?” Rosalie asked, her eyes curious and invested. Grace wasn’t sure why Rosalie seemed to like Grace as much as she did. The entire night before when they were in the girl’s night part of their sleepover, she had doted on Grace, fixing her hair, pushing back her cuticles, tending to her like a doll. Curious.

“Uh, well,” Grace looked from Rosalie to Alice. They of course knew that she had snuck out the night before and now it was clear where she had been.

“You don’t have to say,” Alice suddenly waved it off.

“Nooo!” Both Rosalie and Bella chorused, surprising each other.

“No secrets, remember?” Bella said. Grace looked to her and then bit her lip, holding back a smile and said:

“I went to see him last night. He texted me and well, he gets under my skin, you know.” Grace said, suddenly getting nervous at all of the eyes on her. “And…”

“And?” Rosalie prompted.

“We… we had sex,” Grace finally got out closing her eyes tight and letting the exulatations from the others rush over her. “Like a lot...of sex.”

“Oh my god,” Bella said, blushing profusely. She was suddenly hiding her face in her tea.

“Oh, I forgot, Bella’s a little virgin. Not too many details now, Grace,” Rosalie chided. Bella’s face flamed hot as she looked up with a grimace.

“Rosalie,” Alice groaned. Grace looked quickly to Bella.

“Bella, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” Grace started to which Bella became even more embarrassed.

“Oh jeez, please don’t apologize. I’m not some innocent little baby. I know what sex is. I grew up sharing a house with Renee, remember? She wasn’t entirely secretive about her conquests.” Bella stammered trying to gain some composure.

“Okay,” Grace said still apologetically. Rosalie leaned in and said quietly.

“So how was it?” Grace blushed and tried to hold in her giddy laughter. She was a woman possessed. And she leaned into Rosalie, while Alice tried to feign disinterest but still leaned toward them while Grace tried to spill some details.

Bella speared a strawberry and looked out the window.

Back at home, Grace unpacked her bag and started a load of laundry. When she returned to her room, Bella was sitting on her bed picking at the tips of her fingers.

“Bella?” Grace asked. Bella looked up suddenly and said.

“You can tell me stuff, you know. I’m not a total prude.” Bella said a little dejectedly.

“Oh my god,” Grace said as she dropped her laundry basket and moved to sit next to her. “I know! And it’s not a big deal really. I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. You just seemed….uncomfortable.”

Bella fidgeted some more. “I wasn’t. I just-” Grace looked to Bella’s fingers. “I know me and Edward aren’t there yet, but I can still talk about these things.”

“I know! And hey, it’s totally okay to go at your own pace okay? I didn’t mean to make you feel left out. Come here,” She pulled Bella into a hug, “You’re like my sister. Okay?”

“Okay,” Bella mumbled into her hair letting out a light laugh. They each pulled back from the hug.

“No secrets,” Grace said holding out her pinky. Bella let out a laugh and looped her pinky with hers.

“No secrets.” They sat quietly for a second swinging their pinkies back and forth before Bella shyly asked, “So...what was it like? Was it your first time or?”

Grace broke into an overwhelming bright smile.

“So, if I’m being totally honest, no it wasn’t my first time. Brad Boychen was my first, ugh,” Grace stuck out her tongue and pointed to the back of her throat indicating a gag, “But this time, everything felt so new and right and he was so sweet.” Grace felt her hand creeping up to hold around her neck. “And I honestly can’t stop thinking about it. He just knew what to do, and I felt like with him, I knew what to do too. We just clicked together.” Grace flushed and let out a sigh before looking at Bella who was enraptured.

“How did you know he wanted to...you know?” Bella blushed and then forced herself to proceed, “I mean, how did you know that you were ready to have sex. With him i mean.”

“Well, I honestly did not know when I went over there last night that that was the plan. Like at all. But when I got there, I just felt like something had changed between us and we acknowledged something in each other we knew had been building for awhile. It was definitely a mutual decision. He waited for cues and I responded to those cues I think. Does that make sense?” Grace cocked her head to one side.

“Did he initiate it? Or did you?”

“Definitely him, he said he was tired of the ‘back and forth’ so he was making a decision. And then he just kissed me and-” Grace paused smiling again, shaking her head. “It just happened. And it was so wonderful.” Grace watched Bella’s face carefully for the next few minutes. It seemed like she was mulling something over so Grace went out on a limb, “Are you and Edward thinking about….you know?” Grace nudged Bella with her shoulder.

Bella’s gaze shot up and her eyes were wide, “Oh no! No definitely not. I mean….Edward is….very old fashioned,” she scoffed. “But that doesn’t mean that I don’t want to.” she admitted.

Grace paused before asking her next question. “Can I ask? Ummm, like how will that work? I don’t claim to be an expert on the mechanics of vampire-human sex, but...I don’t if you had..thought about it?” Grace stumbled over that last bit and blushed profusely. She really didn’t hope Bella thought that she was thinking about how her and her boyfriend would have sex.

“I think it works like normal?” Bella said a little unsure. “I mean, we’ve definitely gotten to a point where I thought things were about to go farther, but he always stops. It’s so….” she made a face, “Frustrating. I totally get that he wants to wait, but if it was up to me…” Bella stalled there, letting her curtain of hair cover her face.

“Woah, Bella,” Grace said jokingly, “You’re a total sex freak.”

Bella’s jaw dropped before she made a sound of protest and smacked Grace with her history binder.

“Whatever,” she laughed, “I’m not the one having wild all nighter sex with a half human, half wolf.”

“Hey, he’s fully human when we do it,” Grace laughed. She heard a car horn honk out in front and looked over her shoulder.

“Who’s that?” Bella said. Grace crawled across Bella’s bed and opened her window that looked over the front yard. Paul was leaning against the passenger side door of his forerunner, arms crossed in a cream colored crew neck sweater and jeans, smiling up at her when she leaned out.

“What are you doing here?” She called out, a smile breaking over her face and her belly swelling with warmth already.

“Come down from your balcony, Juliet so I can say hi to you the right way.” Paul called back up. Delighted, she pulled back from the window and bolted toward her door saying over her shoulder, “It’s Paul!” to Bella. Once down the stairs, she pulled on her boots and bounded out the front door, running full tilt toward him and crashing into his open arms.

They’re lips collided effortlessly and he kissed her like he hadn’t seen her in weeks, holding her to him and lifting her body up off the ground. When she broke away from the kiss she said, breathy: “Hi.”

He put his forehead to hers, kissing gently at her nose before saying softly, “Hi.”

“Was that the right way to say hello?” Grace asked, cocking her head to the side and feeling her feet touch the ground.

“To your boyfriend, yes,” Paul laughed, leaning down to softly kiss her again.

“What are you doing here, again?” Grace asked.

“It’s bonfire night babe. Go get dressed.” Paul patted her hip and let another hand come up to tuck her hair behind her ear. “We’re ‘coming out’ tonight, so I want to show you off a little bit”

“Oh!” Grace said, her eyes widening nervously. Did everyone already know?

“Word gets around the rez,” Paul said shrugging and letting his hands move up and down her arms instinctively to warm her up. “Don’t worry, your rep is cleanly in tact. Pack’s honor.” Grace laughed at this and kissed him again, relishing in the feeling of getting to do it anytime she wanted.

“Okay, just give me ten minutes?” Grace said stepping back. Paul nodded and Grace turned to jog inside.

In her bedroom she got dressed quickly, pulling on a cream colored chunky knit sweater with a thick turtle neck to match Paul’s and some black, tight jeans. She ran a brush through her hair a few times and opted to tie half of it up in a loose knot, letting the rest fall down around her shoulders. It was getting long, she’d need to get it cut soon. She patted some orange red lip tint on that blushed against her warm brown skin.

“Can you do me a favor?” Grace said over her should to Bella who was propped on her bed with a book.

“Yeah, sure.” Bella said.

“Can you cover for me? I might be getting home kind of late tonight.” Grace said smiling knowingly. Bella smiled.

“Of course!” Bella replied.

“Are you going to be okay tonight?”

“Oh yeah, Edward should be here soon.” Bella said. Grace came over and kissed the top of her head before waving goodbye and hurtling down the steps, pulling on her boots once more before she skipped down the steps toward Paul.

He broke into a wide smile and when she reached him again, he bent his head down and kissed her softly before whispering, “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” she smiled up at him. He opened the passenger door for her and when she got in he closed it behind her.

When he hopped into the driver seat, he took her hand into his and said “Ready?”

“Ready.” She breathed. She hadn’t been this excited since her junior prom. Something about declaring her and Paul as a couple to the rez felt so satisfying and nerve wracking and thrilling.

He pulled her hand up to his lips to kiss and then they were off, the sun just beginning to set behind them.

#twilight #twilight fanfiction #twilightfanfic #twilightfanfiction #new moon #eclipse #jacobblackxoc #paul lahote #paul lahotexoc #the cullens #bella swan #edward cullen #the pack #jacob black #paul lahote pairing #a monster lives here #chapter 20

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ererokii · 4 years

Text

Petals || Dabi

Dabi x Fem! Reader

Warnings: TW: near drug OD, misuse of drugs, vomiting, misuse of alcohol, domestic violence, peer pressure, manipulation, signs of toxic relationship

IMPORTANT: If these themes triggers you or if you are uncomfortable with it, do NOT read

Word Count: 5825

Synopsis: Everytime Dabi goes out for work, he returns home as a new person causing a petal of your blossoming relationship to fall off, leaving the bud to die.

Taglist: @hisoknen, @shoutosplaything, @shoutodoki, @stupidbuttwaifu, @sugacookiies, @lady-bakuhoe, @saltie, @kingtamakimurder

Growing a flower wasn’t difficult if there was effort involved. The right spot. The right amount of sunlight. Added soil. The right amount of water. And love.

At least that’s what your mom told you. As a young girl, she always told you the most important step into growing a flower was love. The bud would blossom into something extraordinary with the right care.

The blossoming relationship you created took loads of effort. The small bud of it growing into something beautiful as you would think. Each petal represents an aspect of your relationship.

You knew what he did. How wanted he was. Yet you refuse to do anything about it. It was obvious. You were in love with Dabi. And he was in love with you.

Yet why did you hate it?

Once again you begged him not to go out. Begging him to just stay at home with you so he wouldn’t get himself in trouble.

“Dabi please!” You cried out and grabbed him by his coat, clenching your fingers around the material. Your body trembled with each cry you let out. “Just stay!”

“You know I can’t do that dollface.”

You shook your head. “Yes, you can! Please I’m begging you!”

“I’ll see you later.” Was all he said and walked out the door, to let you drown into your own tears.

You held your hands to your chest and gripping your shirt, your sobs wracking throughout your weakened body.

This was the start of it. The downfall of your relationship.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

You paid no mind to it. You noticed his outings, the way he would come home smelling like cigarettes and burnt ash with the faint smell of blood. It bothered you but at least he was here.

You were not affiliated with the League of Villains by any means. That was the first thing that Dabi established when he announced your relationship to Shigaraki, who wanted to bring you in.

You had a green thumb, it was something that Dabi adored but would never actually say it. With him always being out, you occupied yourself.

Lilies were your favorite flower. It seemed that you practically had every breed planted in the backyard of your place.

It was the little things that you took notice of. Your White Lilies would die before they bloomed, your Tiger Lilies would only last one day before they shriveled up and died the next day. It seemed like a nightmare to you. Your hard work going down the drain.

The only lily that did make it was the Orange Lily. This was unusual. Orange Lilies weren’t your favorite out of the breeds. It was just the one that never came across your mind. Its meaning scares you. Orange Lilies symbolize hatred. You definitely didn’t hate anyone but yet, why did this one bloom instead of the others?

It bloomed into something beautiful. It sat on your low table in your sitting room, it’s petals showing off the gradient of orange and yellow. A delicate thing.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

The slamming of the door startled you from reading the book that rested in your hands. “Dabi?” You questioned the air and got off the couch.

You were met with a grunt as arms wrapped around you from behind, making you jolt.

“Relax.” He mumbled, head buried in the crook of your neck. “I came through the window dollface.”

“Why did you come through the window?”

“I caught someone following me. Don’t worry I took care of them but for caution.”

Your body froze as Dabi’s hand rubbed small circles on the small of your back. “Calm down. Nothing will happen to you.”

“How are you so sure Dabi?”

“Don’t you trust me, babe?”

You sucked in a low breath and nodded. “Y-yes I do bu-“

“But what?!” He snapped and grabbed you by your arms, not rough by any means. “I promised to keep you safe didn’t I?! Don’t you believe me?!”

“Of course I do!” You wailed out and squirmed in his grasp. “I just can’t help but think about it!”

“Well stop it!” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Come on babe let’s not do this again. Let’s just forget yeah?” He whispered and snaked an arm around your waist, pulling you into his chest.

You placed your hands on his chest and traced the outline of his white shirt, staring at his staples. “I’m sorry”

With a shake of his head, he placed his hands underneath your ass and lifted you up, emitting a small squeak from your lips and wrapping your legs around his hips.

“No more talking. Come on let’s get these clothes off” he muttered and suddenly leaned forward, kissing you roughly as he made his way to your shared room, slamming the door shut behind him.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

You shifted slightly and rolled over into your side, opening your eyes and expecting to meet charred skin and a tuft of black hair.

Except you didn’t.

Your slight smile tugged downwards into a frown as you sat up, holding the sheet to your chest. “Dabi?” You called out and got up, wrapping the sheet around your naked body as you noticed a paper on your bedside table.

You picked it up and automatically recognized the messy but somehow clear writing.

Had to go out again. Shigaraki needed me.

-Dabi

You stared at the small note and analyzed it one more time before crumbling it into a ball, letting it drop on the floor. “Of course..” you muttered and shivered at the cool air hitting your bare arms.

The ghost of his touch lingered on your body. The feeling of his lips, his fingertips as he traced your perfect imperfections. It didn’t feel the same as before.

You quickly fixed yourself up and walked out into the sitting room, immediately checking up on your Orange Lily.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you crouched in level with the flower. Something was wrong.

You quietly counted to yourself.

“3...4… where’s the fifth one” you mumbled and looked around it. You lowered your head and noticed the fallen petal, resting beside the pot. It was already withered up.

Your heart ached. You carefully picked up the delicate petal and placed it back on the stem, leaving it there for it to only fall off.

“Why aren’t any of them staying alive..what am I doing wrong?” you teared up and laid your head on the table, closing your eyes.

You missed his presence. There was nothing you wanted more than to be in the arms of your boyfriend. Every time he went out to do work, there was always that little voice in the back of your mind that made you doubt his skills. His survival skills.

You knew this wasn’t Dabi’s first rodeo in the villain world. You knew who he was, who he really was. The heartless one who wasn’t afraid to set a group of innocent civilians on fire till they were burnt to a crisp.

You met Dabi in a bar. You remember the events as if it was a movie on constant replay. You were with your friends, all of you a bit away from sober, yet you were the only one who remembered that night by every moment and every word spoken.

He was charming.

You were clueless.

He was alluring.

You desired him.

The next thing you remember was waking up in bed beside him as he smoked a cigarette quietly, watching your sleeping form. You wouldn’t say everything went downhill from there. Both of you agreed to keep each other for pleasing your own needs. No feelings involved.

As much as you kept lying to yourself, he was too. It got to the point where he almost burned another man who was close enough to touch you.

A tear trailed down your face as you let out a sob, body trembling as you felt yourself internally go smaller and smaller. “Just come back Dabi.,” you muttered and relaxed your body, not moving from your spot.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Dabi walked into your shared place and let out a groan, stretching his arms above his head and shut the door. Your figure in front of the plant caught his attention. “Princess?” he questioned and walked over to you, gently touching you with the tip of his shoe.

You only stirred before stopping your movements. “How long have you been like this” he muttered under his breath and wrapped an arm underneath your legs. At the touch, your eyes snapped open as your hand immediately went for the neck of the person holding you, yet you were still not all there, only waking up from your sleep.

“Princess!” Dabi choked out and placed his bigger hands on yours, trying to get your nails out of his neck. “It’s only me!”

At the voice you blinked quickly before getting off of him, cradling his charred cheeks with your hands. “Dabi! Baby, I’m so sorry I didn’t know it was you!”

He coughed lightly and sat up, swatting your hands away from his face to grab them and engulf them in his bigger ones. “Yeah, I can see that. Why were you asleep on the ground?”

You met his eyes before looking away. “I was waiting for you” you whispered. The tension in the air grew thick. You could hear the pants of his breath as he licked his lips. “For me? Why dollface? You knew I would be coming back after.”

“You and I both know that’s not for sure Dabi.”

“And why the hell not?”

“You’re a wanted man!” you cried out and jabbed a finger into his chest. Your vision went blurry as you blinked the tears away forming on your lower eyelashes. “How can you be so fucking sure that you’ll come back home perfectly fine?!”

“Y/N-”

“No!” you cut him off and wiped your nose with the back of your hand. “Let me fucking talk now!! Someone can come in right now and kill the both of you! You’re slowly killing yourself and my heart aches to see it! Can’t you see it?! I don’t want to watch you go down this path! I love you Dabi!”

You sobbed out and covered your mouth with both of your hands, squeezing your eyes shut. You knew Dabi was an understanding man when it came to you and you only. But there were times where you felt as if it was the opposite. You knew he loved you, but recently you felt as if he didn’t.

“Do you even love me Dabi?” you muttered, bringing your fingers to the plan of your hand in a clenched fist, staring down at your feet through your blurry tears.

After a few seconds of silence, he spoke up, “What?” he whispered and stared at you like you lost your mind. “Course I do. What makes you think that Princess?” he questioned and reached a hand towards your face, tilting your face to meet his hard yet somehow soft gaze.

“Then why don’t you listen to me?” you croaked out. You looked like a mess, the mascara that you left on was mixed with your tears as they dribbled down your face. “Don’t you know that I care about you?”

He sucked in a breath and ran his thumb over the swell of your cheek, gently pressing down. “Course I do Y/N. You’re the only thing that’s keeping me sane in this forsaken world,” he said lowly, his other hand coming around and placing it against the nape of your nape as he pushed you into his chest.

You were taken aback by the action but shook it off and quickly wrapped your arms around his slender frame, opening sobbing into his chest. “I’m still here sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.”

He was right. He was here. He was alive and breathing. You were in his arms.

“You know I would do anything for you right?” he spoke up after a moment of silence. You meekly nodded and looked at him, a hand of his coming down to your face and pushed the stray hairs that covered your face.

“I would leave if I could. But you and I know crusty ass won’t let me.”

A quiet giggle emitted from your lips as a grin curled on Dabi’s lips. “There she is. There’s my girl huh? She’s been hiding huh?”

“I’m sorry… and sorry for getting your shirt wet”

“Don’t worry dollface. Not the first time you got me wet by your liquids.”

“Dabi!!”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

You had your fair share of drinks. It wasn’t often that you got completely shitfaced. If someone told you that you had to live without alcohol for the rest of your life you wouldn’t object to that. It wasn’t a priority in your life.

It started off small. You noticed the slight change in your home's atmosphere. There used to be zero tension in your shared place, but every time you could feel tension forming with each day.

Dabi would come home and you would find him passed out, a beer can or two lounging around where he was. Soon enough two beer cans would turn to three then eventually four until they keep coming. It seemed endless.

The doorknob jiggled before you swung the door opening, emerging inside with groceries that were needed for the time being. “Dabi?! Can you help me!”

The black-haired man appeared from the kitchen, a smile that shocked you was displayed on his face. “I got them dollface,” he said, taking them from you and carried them back to the kitchen table.

“You seem happy today. Should I be afraid?” you teased, slipping your shoes and placed them neatly on the mat next to the door.

“Nope. Just happy to see my sweet amazing girlfriend like always!”

You tilted your head at the sudden change of demeanor. Usually, you would be greeted by a quick kiss or a slap to the ass but not an unusual happy Dabi.

“Are you..are you sick?” You asked hesitantly and watched him open the fridge, bending down slightly as if he was looking for something.

There was a sudden hard silence as a grunt emitted from his lips, a hand reaching in and felt around the condiments, making a mess as things knocked over.

“Is there no more?” He asked harshly, his figure still bent as he kept his concentration on finding what he needed.

“Huh?” You questioned and peeked over his shoulder, not sure what he wanted. “Is there no more what?”

“Beer.”

“Beer?

“Yes, beer. Well fuck there’s no more, did you get some?”

You were taken aback. “Get some? Dabi I went to buy things we needed. Plus it wasn’t even on the list I wrote.”

He let out a frustrated groan and slammed the refrigerator shut, shaking it slightly. “Well, I need that. So why don’t you be a doll and go get me some yeah?”

You gasped. “Excuse me? What did you say?”

“I said what I said. Go buy me some.”

“I’m not your damn fucking maid. If you want it so bad, you go fucking get it.”

He let out a hard laugh, a hand covering his eyes. “Wow! The least you could fucking do is be a decent girlfriend and go buy me it! Guess you can’t do that either huh?!”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“Me?! What isn’t wrong with me Y/N!” He yelled and turned to face you, approaching you rather quickly than you would’ve liked.

It suddenly hit you. Why he was acting so strange. He had you backed up into a wall as he lowered his head to your level, panting softly. You could smell the leftover traces of alcohol radiating off of his body.

“You’re drunk aren’t you” you whispered after a moment of silence, finally meeting his intense gaze.

“So what if I am?” he snapped and pushed himself off of you, strutting to the closet and opened it harshly.

“W-where are you going?” you stuttered and watched his body move swiftly to put his coat on.

“To get me a fucking drink.” he spat and unlocked the door quickly, slamming it behind him. The aftershock of the door slamming shook your table, shaking the vase of the Orange Lily, causing another petal to fall off in a mocking way as if it were laughing at you.

You stared in a daze, the events prior still playing over and over again. The tears once concealed in your eyes now flowed smoothly, creating a small puddle on the tiled floor. You pursed your lips together and licked over your lower lip.

That wasn’t your Dabi.

Where was your Dabi?

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

You saw the signs, yet you were oblivious. Dabi was changing right in front of your eyes yet you denied it. It was as if it was spoilers of a big-time movie that you had yet to see, you avoided them.

He was well below the okay mark. He’d come home reeking of the smell of cigarettes and beer. A disgusting combination in your opinion.

It was like having your own personal rollercoaster in your own home. Except you were the only rider who had to hold on for dear life when the loops came in.

The once beautiful flower that brought your whole place together was slowly dying in front of your eyes. You tried everything. You gave it more water, more sunlight, and even added a new type of soil, yet nothing was working. You were starting to give up at this point.

“Baby?”

You quickly whipped your head around at the tall slender man in front of you. “Y-Your back early.”

“Course I am. I wanted to come back quicker. I wanna try something with you.”

This piques your interest as one of your eyes brows in curiosity. “What is it?”

“Let’s go sit on the couch.” He said and gently grabbed your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours as he guided you towards the couch. Once the both of you sat down and guided you into his lap, wrapping an arm around your as he pulled you into his chest.

His lips pressed against the back of your head as he wiggled his hand into his pocket, pulling out a baggy and tossed it on the table.

You watched it and bit your lip. “Uh... what’s that?”

“What do you think dollface? It’s cocaine.”

You felt as if your eyes bulged out of your sockets. “It’s WHAT?!”

“Damn” he winced and rubbed the side of his ear. “No need to yell I’m right here. Keep your voice down even though we’re inside but keep it down”

“Why do you have cocaine?! Where did you get it from?! I’m not doing i-“

A hand was suddenly placed over your mouth as he pulled your head back, the back of your head resting against his collar bones. “Damn you talk a lot. Just do it”

A shake of your head had him sighing as he removed his hand from your face. “Dabi I don’t want to do it”

“Oh come on doll. It’s a once in a lifetime thing. You won’t get a chance like this again”

“..I don’t want too!”

“Aw that’s too bad..all girlfriends would do this with their boyfriend if they really loved him”

“That’s not true I’m not an idiot.”

“Oh yeah, cause you’re so smart. Not like you would do anything for me.”

“Dabi come on..” you sighed and ran a hand through your hair. “Fine, I’ll do it with you. Just this once”

“That’s my girl” he slurred in your ear and nibbled the shell of your ear, leaning forward and opening the bag, dumping its products on the table.

“Is this safe” you mumbled to yourself and watched Dabi pressing a finger to the side of his nostril before lowering his head, moving his head in a back and forth rhythm before fully moving his head to the right.

He sat back up with a satisfied groan, wiping the powder from underneath his nose. “That’s the good shit… alright babe it’s your turn.”

You stared at the white substance messily displayed in front of you. “I don’t know Dabi… I don’t feel comfortable doing this…” you trailed off and looked up at your blissed-out boyfriend. “What if it goes bad?”

“It’s not going to go bad, will you quit whining already?! Just sniff the stuff and everything will be fine!” He snapped and pushed your head down by the nape of your neck.

You grunted and hesitantly pressed your finger on your nostril, taking a deep breath as you moved your head to the right, feeling the immense power of it already knocking through your body.

You coughed and pushed Dabi’s hand off of you, profusely rubbing your nose in irritation, your body not used to the foreign substance.

“Mm..you took a little” Dabi grinned and grabbed your face with his large hand, squishing your cheeks together. “Get more.”

You shook your head, little movement due to your head behind held tight.

“N-No! That’s it!”

His grin fell into a frown as he let go of your face. “Why the fuck not? Come on. Just do it. I’ll do it right after you.”

“..you promise?”

“I swear.”

With an uneasy sigh, you did it again. And again. And again until you could no longer sit up straight.

You felt hotter, your stomach was aching as your head was pounding. You felt paler.

“Dabi..”

“I know babe! You did great! I’m proud”

You shook your head as you groaned, standing up and leaned against the wall for support. You felt bullets of sweat forming on your forehead.

Your heart was beating. It felt as if it were a race car, doing 100mph. You clutched the fabric of your shirt in a tight fist, shaking slightly. “Dabi..” you whispered out and shakily lifted your head to meet his dazed look. “I don’t feel good at all..”

You felt so much adrenaline yet you hated it. You hated how you felt on Cloud 9. You hated every part of this. The way the substance felt entering your body as if it were a new source of energy. You hated the way he could convince you with his manipulating words. He had a way with words and he knew how to use them.

“It’ll wear off soon don’t worry. Come here baby” he chuckled and stood up, a hand resting on the armrest of the couch.

You gagged and quickly covered your mouth, pushing yourself off the wall as you stumbled towards the kitchen, barely making it in time as you let out everything in the sink.

Hot tears flowed freely from your eyes as you sobbed, letting everything out. Dabi was quick to make his way towards you and held your hair up, rubbing circles on your back. “Shit” he mumbled

“W-water” you choked out and gripped the sink, head bowed as you let out a groan, another wave of nausea hitting your body.

“I’ll be back. Get you a pair of clean clothes” was his last words before adventuring into your room. You quickly turned the faucet and drank the water, not caring for the slight bitter taste and splashed some on your face.

The stickiness of your shirt clung to your skin desperately. You let out a whimper as you slid down the cool steel of the sink, bringing your knees forward. You lowered your head and gripped your pounding head, wanting nothing more than to lay down and forget.

Footsteps approached as he crouched in front of you. “Hey. You’re okay”

“Okay?! I almost overdosed on this bullshit and you say it’s okay?!” You snapped, your gaze boring into his own. He let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, grinding his teeth together.

“Yeah sure but you’re here. Stop whining and change, come on we’ll get you in the shower.” He said and grabbed your hand, lifting you up. “Can you walk?”

“Just guide me to the bathroom.” Was your response as an arm weaved its way to wrap around your waist, carrying your spent body to shower.

Unbeknownst to you, your Orange Lily that once stood tall and proud with its five beautiful petals was now bent and cowered with 2 petals left, the other 3 withering next to the vase, begging to be mended back.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Stressed was an understatement. Being apart of the League of Villains has its ups and downs. Shigaraki was a demanding and impatient man. Every minute, every second of the day he needed something. If not immediately reported to him he would throw his temper tantrum as Dabi would love to call it

Eight times out of ten Dabi would usually come home upset and stressed. Most of the time you didn’t mind because he would take his pent up stress onto you, which was good sex in your mind. But there were times where he didn’t want to bothered at all to which he would ask for time alone which you happily obliged wanting nothing more than to respect his wishes

Right when the both of you got together, Dabi swore that he would never use his quirk on you or place his hands on you in any way. It gave you a sense of relief. When Dabi was angry he wasn’t in much control.

Just like every other day, Dabi arrived home, stressed out of his mind. You could tell by the sound of his footsteps. Heavy and dragging against the floor as if he didn’t care, which he didn’t.

“Hey, ba-”

“Not now.” his gruff voice blurted out as he threw himself on the couch, spreading his legs out as he placed his hands on his thighs, running his hands back and forth.

You bit your lip and contemplated asking him about it. Your leg bounced up and down in anticipation as you rubbed your hands together.

“Well uh,” you started off and walked behind him, placing your hands on his shoulders, lighting rubbing. “How was work?”

“Fucking awful.”

Oh. That’s not what you wanted to hear.

“Oh… did anything exciting happen at least?”

“Exciting? It was a fucking shitty day at work, Shigaraki was on my ass all day for no reason and on top of that, we almost got caught because Twice couldn’t keep his fucking mouth shut.”

You pouted and dug your fingers deeper, massaging his already tensed up shoulders. “You’re so tense, baby. Relax a little yeah?” You whispered and lowered your head, placing kisses on the side of his neck that led up to his ear, biting the shell of his ear.

Your tongue flicked out and traced his piercing.

“Y/N..” he growled. You could hear the warning in his voice.

“Hm? Come on it’s been a while since we had any..fun..” your hand reached around and placed it on his chest, moving your hand downward till it stopped above his belt.

“Stop.”

“Aww but come on Dabi, let me h-“

A quick swivel of his body as his hand rose and came down, striking you across the face. You quickly covered the side of your face as you stumbled back, placing a hand on the wall.

“I said to stop!” He yelled and stood up fully, fuming as his jaw was locked and shoulders tensed up. “But you couldn’t fucking listen huh?!”

“I..I was just trying to help..”

“Well stop fucking trying got it?! I don’t need your help right now! I want to be left alone!” He spat.

He said his words with venom. You could practically see the hatred dripping from his lips. His eyes were blown up in anger as his chest heaved slowly. Wisps of blue fire emitted from his hand but nothing dangerous, yet. “Leave me the fuck alone got it? Don’t come crying to me with those stupid ass puppy dog eyes.”

Tears pooled in your eyes as you held back your whimpers, clutching the material of your shorts. “I don’t appreciate you t-talking to me like that Dabi.”

“And I don’t appreciate you not knowing what the word fuck off means. Just stay the fuck away.” He snapped and stalked off towards your room, slamming the door that squeaked at its hinges.

You gasped for air as you stroked the stinging area. “He..he hit me” you whispered to yourself.

He broke your promise. He tainted your trust. Something that was once pure was now tainted with anger and hatred. You couldn’t see him anymore. Every day you internally begged him to remove his filthy mask and return back to normal somehow. You didn’t care how you wanted the old him.

You settled down on the couch, bringing your knees close to your body as you began to slowly rock back and forth, mumbling incoherent words as tears flowed. You let your head hang forward as you let out the painful sobs, digging your fingers into your scalp as you tugged on your hair.

You shakily lifted your head. Your bloodshot eyes gazed forward as you scrambled off the couch, your knees hitting the floor as you shuffled forward. “No no no no” you muttered and quickly caught the orange beauty in your cupped hands. You brought it close to your face as you let out a choked cough.

“..this is it”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

You were tired of it. After the incident of Dabi laying a hand on, he’s been distancing himself from you. He’s been less affectionate— not that he’s been affectionate lately anyway. He wouldn’t spare a glance your way, would brush you off when you tried talking to him.

You hated the bridge that was now present in your once loving home. You desperately wanted to cross it and meet him on the other side or hoping the both of you could meet in the middle once again. But it seemed that he cut the ties that held you from doing so. The once sturdy rope that held it together, was becoming looser and looser with each day that arrived.

You wiped your nose with the back of your hand as your chest heaved in anticipation. You were leaving. You couldn’t be here anymore. It wasn’t healthy anymore as it used to be. You couldn’t live on eggshells with him. You hated being on the verge of a nervous breakdown due to him being unpredictable. Whenever he would lift his hand to do anything whether it be to run his hand through his hair or grab something from the top shelf, you couldn’t stop yourself from flinching. He hurt you. In the worst possible way.

“He won’t be home for another two hours so I have enough time,” you said to no one in particular once you finished packing your necessities. You quickly looked around for a sheet of paper and a pen. You let out a deep sigh and began to write whatever came to mind. By the end of it, a tear or two landed on the paper.

You shakily lifted it to your lips and kissed it softly, folding the paper in a half and put it in an envelope with the name Dabi written on the front.

You grabbed your suitcase by its handle and placed the envelope on the table, placing a Primrose on top of it. You loved the meaning of it. Something so beautiful and simplistic.

As you reached the head of your apartment, you looked around. A pang hit your chest as you smiled sadly. You had to do this. You had to move on to something better. Someone better.

After the door shut behind you and the key underneath the mat, you stretched your arms over your head as you made your way out, leaving everything behind.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Dabi knew he was a dick. There was no excuse for the way he’s been treating you. He knew flowers were your favorite thing so he got you some— more like stole them but it was the thought that counted right?

When he laid his hand on you, he was instantly filled with regret. He processed what he had done after he heard your cry of pain. He thought the best option was to distance himself to redeem himself. He swore to protect you, to keep you out of harm's way, and make you happy. He couldn’t even protect you from himself.

He opened the door with a small smile. “Y/N?”

Silence.

He frowned and kicked his shoes off, walking towards the kitchen. “Y/N?” he called for again and placed the flowers on the table. “Come on Y/N this isn’t funny. Where are you?”

His nerves were rising as he let out a frustrated groan, running both of his hands through his hair. A white envelope and flower caught his attention. “Hm?” he let his arms fall beside him as he walked over, kneeling in front of it. He saw your once beautiful orange lily that stood tall and proud, displaying its beautiful colors, now dead and withered, not having its petals on display.”Oh man..she really liked you too..” he mumbled and piled all the dead petals.

He picked up the envelope and opened it.

Dabi,

I really don’t know where to start. I thought this is what I wanted. But I guess not. I love you. I really do, but you were changing for the worse. I couldn’t watch you go down deeper in the hole. It pains me to live on the edge. You’re bound to get caught and who knows what would happen to me. Your dying Dabi, you’re slowly killing yourself and you don’t even know. Please don’t come looking for me. I promise I’m okay, safe, and sound. Do you see that flower? It’s a Primrose. It means I can’t live without you. And I can’t live without my home, you were my home. But now I have to move on, for both of us. I love you Dabi.

- Y/N

He let the note fall on the floor as he picked up the Primrose, holding it close to his face as he analyzed it. He didn’t notice till he felt a tear trail down his face. He lifted one of his fingers and wiped it off. He growled and squeezed his eyes shut and he set the beautiful flower on fire, letting it get devoured by his flames until it turned to ash.

The most special thing he had in his life, he let walk away. He was too deep into his pride. He couldn’t just take his eyes off his ego for one second to see that you were secretly hurting because of him. And now Dabi had to pay the price of his foolishness.

#bnhabookclub #dabi #tw: drugs #tw: alcholism #tw: domestic violence #tw: near death #tw: near OD #tw: vomit #dabi x reader #bnha #mha #bokonoacademia #myheroacademia #mha x reader #bnha x reader #xreader #xreader insert #fic #my fic

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uwuwriting · 4 years

Text

Homesick recordings

This is the first part of my 1.5K celebration. I present to you the sequel to “Moments in the life of Y/N L/N”, the angstiest piece of trash I’ve ever written. Thank you 1.5 K guys it means a lot, thank you for being here and reading my crap writing and thank you for supporting my blog. Love ya 💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

When Y/N learns that her little girl is gonna leave for high school she suggests she tries recording herself when she’s feeling homesick. Sky believes that she won’t need it but as time passes she realizes that she might need her mom more than expected.

Monday, April 4th 20XX

“Okay so how do I do this exactly? *camera falls from its spot* Ah crap crap Jesus! Is it still working? Yep yep it is there’s my ugly face hehe. God why is my hair like that? Anyways um…. Hi, I guess? Do you say hi to a recording? This is weird to say the least. Today was the first day of school as you might have guessed and it was ….awkward. I got lost in that huge building twice and I ignored some kids by accident because they called me by my last name! I’m used to people referring to you when they say our last name ugh this is gonna take some time getting used to. The teacher is ....unique. He came into our classroom in a yellow sleeping bag and proceeded to worm around the room like a caterpillar. I don’t think he is the really giddy giddy fun teacher; he wrecked us during training. Gave us a freaking heart attack with a so called prank he pulled. *exasperated sigh* Who says that you’ll be expelled if you score last?? I don’t get it!! His name is Aizawa-sensei and I already believe he doesn’t like me. He stared at me for a solid five minutes with a frown on his face during training. If I’m being honest he was watching me the whole day which is kinda weird. I don’t know how to take that. Is he interested in my quirk or is he asking himself why they put me in his class? I can hear his voice saying ‘why do they keep sending me imbeciles?’. Well mister you can’t get rid of me now I got in and I’m staying! HA! *bang on the wall* YO SKY KID KEEP IT DOWN MAN! SORRY TOYOMI-SAN…..That was one of my roommates….She is a social worker I think. Oh I almost forgot, the apartment I found is nice. It deserves its price I mean. But you already know that since I called you once I got back from school…. See why this is stupid??? I’ll keep telling you things you already know because I have Alzheimer and I don’t remember what you know. *sigh* Oh well I guess you’ll have to endure this torture, you are my mother after all and I’m your precious only daughter so what can you do really? I finished my costume design. It turned out pretty cool, I like it. The jacket you suggested makes it ten times better. I look like a pilot. Well technically I am a pilot. I pilot clouds and now that you’re not here to scold me when I’m flying around I’ll take full advantage of it. You can’t stop me mother! Anyways, it’s getting late and I have school tomorrow so I’ll end this here. I don’t know when I’ll record next…. Most likely when I’m feeling home sick again. Haha it's the first day away from home and I’m already missing you and those two idiots. *soft snort* Goodnight mom, love you.” *recording ends*.

Wednesday, April 27th 20XX

“Hello again, it’s me, your neighborhood cripple. *wince* You could say I’m a sight for sore eyes because I’m sore all over. You’ve seen the attack on the news. Of course you have, everyone’s shaming UA high for lack of security. Why you haven’t called me yet is a mystery, I guess you’re at work? And before you start throwing a tantrum about me not calling first and blah blah, I wanted to record this first, let you see the actual injuries before I minimize them when I call you. *stares off* Something weird happened during the attack. Apart from the fact that well we were attacked and our homeroom teacher was almost beaten into a pulp, the villains were ….. interesting. When they first appeared I was teleported by this minecraft portal looking ass to another part of the USJ and to be honest I kicked some serious ass. That *wince* that was not the weird thing. While I was fighting I saw Aizawa-sensei facing some type of giant ostrich? Although that that thing wasn’t an ostrich…. I don’t know what it was but mom it was terrifying. *visible shiver* It just grabbed him and mopped the floor with him and I just couldn’t sit there and do nothing. So I went to help or at least that was my goal. That person who teleported me at the beginning tried to do it again and I may have snapped a little bit. I got so angry when he moved me to the other side of the arena that for a moment I totally forgot about what was happening. While I was fighting him his quirk kinda connected with mine. It was strange. Every time I shot a cloud at him the mist that surrounded him kinda engulfed it. It wasn’t only happening to me. I could manipulate his mist. Not every time just like he couldn’t sabotage my clouds every time, but it still happened. I don’t know why it happened or how it happened and I have no idea what I’m gonna do about it. Maybe it was part of his quirk but it didn’t happen to anyone else…..*wince* God I have a headache. *chuckle* You do realize you are never going to see these videos right? Seeing me like this would send you into a comma and then you would come back to haunt me and my classmates. Anyways, I’ll call you and then I’m going to sleep. Love ya mom.” *recording ends*

Tuesday, June 3rd 20XX

“*walking back and forth in her room* You know how I said that Bakugou is a really fun person to tease? Well that was before he exposed me to the whole class.*laugh* In reality I’m not really mad, it was a nice comeback and if I’m being honest it was hilarious but it was still a shocker. We were going back and forth with that tik tok challenge where you expose your friend’s flaws. So I was standing there pointing out his superiority complex when he dropped the bomb…… ‘It’s the daddy issues for me’......THIS KID. THE AUDACITY. I thought my daddy issues were kept on the down low!!! I’ve done nothing to trigger this comment!! Sure I may or may not have told Mina that you raised me alone and about that counselor incident but that doesn’t mean I have daddy issues. *grumble* You need to have a dad to have daddy issues. Ughh God I hate him sometimes so very much. Thankfully the summer camp is tomorrow. I’ll get to wipe the floor with him in volleyball. I’m gonna draw those anger issues out…. I need some air. *three hours later* I’m back… yay. It’s weird to think about it you know. What you must have gone through when he passed. I know you don’t really like talking about him or anything before I came along but I would love to know what he was like. I’m not gonna ask you in real life of course, I would never do that to you. I know it hurts. I just wanted to say it out loud…*barely audible sniffle* … Well this got sentimental real quick. I think I should go to bed. I love you mom, goodnight.” *recording ends*

Friday, March 14th 20XX

“Of all the things that could’ve happened, this one was the last one on my list. Actually it wasn’t even on the freaking list, dammit! *sniffle* You know things like this don’t happen to everyone. I must be a really lucky person. Tell me one other person who gets to meet their dead parent in a high surveillance prison?? And above that I got an explanation why he was like this. Amazing right? God this is so stupid! I hate it. I hate this situation, I hate that I can’t tell you about it, I hate keeping you in the dark because at the end of the day I’m not the one who was in love with him. He may be my dad but I don’t have a connection with him! I never met him! He wasn’t there when I started walking or talking, he wasn’t the one who dropped me off on the first day of school, he didn’t teach me how to ride a bike, he-he * sob* I shouldn’t-shouldn’t be upset over this. Aizawa-sensei and Present Mic should be the ones sobbing on their floor. Not me. He doesn’t - I don’t- ugh - I don’t mean anything to him in the end. He died 15 years ago. That’s it. He was in love with you, he knew you, I was nowhere to be found. If he could reach out to us more than just a few words he wouldn’t know who the hell I was. *sobs* I have a picture of you two you know….It’s the one I had found when I was five. When you told me that that was my dad I felt like I could form a connection with the person in that photo. So I kept it, you never went through your old photo albums anyway and you never looked for the missing photo. And I kept it with me. I tore a small pocket in my backpack and put the photo there. I thought that having both of you with me at all times would bring me luck. I liked the fact that I looked like him. Now I realize how painful that must have been for you, seeing him in me everyday….and Aizawa-sensei, god, having me in his class must have been torture. He didn’t know that I was his friend’s daughter of course but I looked enough like him to bring back memories. God this sucks…. *deep breathes* I-I have practice so I gotta go. Love you.” *recording ends*

Thursday, March 20th 20XX

“Hi, it’s me again. I know that I’m recording almost a week after the previous one but… mom I have been assigned a mission and it’s major. It’ll be an attack at a hospital where we believe that experiments are being conducted. We got that information from um what do I call him? *shakes head* from a prisoner in Tartarus, the high surveillance prison I was at last week? Yeah that one. The mission will be really dangerous, that’s what we’ve been told and I can understand that. I mean we are attacking a major operation of AFO, of course it’ll be dangerous. Since we are students we are to stay away from the hospital and monitor the surrounding area but…. I asked Present Mic to go with them in the hospital. I can help keep things in place and I can move people in and out quicker than any of them, plus this is personal. I think Present Mic understands that. He said he’ll talk to Aizawa-sensei about it but regardless….. I’ll find who did that to him, I promise you that. I want to know if...if this was all some grand plan because what they did to him they did to dozens other people and as much as I hate them for taking my father away, I also hate them for what they’ve done to all those other families…… I’m recording this because I don’t know if I come back in one piece or if I come back at all. This is very dangerous and we don’t really know what to expect. What we are getting ourselves into. I wanted to say thank you. Thank you for giving me everything that I needed in life. Thank you for being the best mom anyone could ever have. You raised me by pushing your own sadness and grief to the side and doing the best job you could. So thank you for being my mom and I’m sorry for the pain I caused you. I love you mom, so very much. Bye, bye mommy.” *recording ends.*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#shirakumo #shirakumo oboro #shirakumo x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x you #shirakumo oboro x reader #angst

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dazed--xx · 4 years

Text

Bulletproof Love

Request: Can I have a Jimin imagine where you think he’s cheating cause you have a lot of trust issues which leads to a fight. Thank you❤️

Member: Trainee!Jimin x Reader

Genre: ANGST, Smut, Fluff if you squint

Word Count: 3,346

Trigger Warning: SMOKING CIGARETTES AND WEED

A/N: So the title is this song by Pierce the veil its better to listen to it while you read you’ll understand the lyrics in between the story better, im just a little emo kid honestly lol. ANYWAY FIRST JIMIN FIC. HOPE THE PERSON THAT REQUESTED THIS ENJOYS IT LITERALLY HAD A MIND OF ITS OWN

I breathe you in with smoke in the backyard lights

“Y/N-ah?!” Sunny shouts from the other side of the inferno, drink in her left hand, the blunt in the other extended toward me. The smoke fills my lungs, the need to cough builds as I inhale. The sliding door behind me opening, as 3 loud voices boom “SUNNY!”. My eyes drifting to the bonfire in front of me, my social anxiety creeping up as I take another hit of the blunt. One of the 3 figures setting themselves down on the left side of me. My hand reaches out to pass the vice, eyes glued to the ground. “Oh...umm..I-I... don't” a soft anxious voice speaks, my eyes traveling from the fire to the male next to me.

A soft smile appears on my face as his stunned eyes widen. “N-not that there's anything wrong with.....I mean I just don’t... I'm not like judging or whatever....I mean um-” “You don’t smoke I get it not a big deal can you hand it to the person next to you please” I ask softly. He nods, “I'm Jimin” “Y/N” We used to laugh until we choked into the wasted nights (Wasted nights)

My excitement built as I got ready to go with Sunny to her new boyfriend's party. Jimin always seemed to find his way at every party I went to after Sunny’s. My crush growing rapidly as each encounter left me in a whirlwind of emotions. “Come on Y/N!” Sunny shouts from my living room. “Relax bitch” I laugh as I enter the living room. “Let’s go Tae is probably waiting for us at Jimin’s” She snaps. “W-we’re going to Jimin’s...?” I mumble. Sunny smiles a radiance I only wish I could hope for.

“I didn’t tell you? I'm sorry I thought I did” She smirks I shake my head. “Y/N you need to tell him how you feel or just move on” “I know but it's not easy man, I’m not like you” I mumble. “Girl, I know I confessed to Tae over a year ago, remember?” I shake my head Sunny sighs. “Y/N remember I was like utterly heartbroken because that kid that worked with me rejected me” the memory rushing to my mind like a tidal wave. Taehyung was the jerk coworker that slept with her and put her into a major depression. She quit her job and reinvented everything in her life. After Tae rejected her, she started smoking, my habit becoming hers.

“I extended the invitation to him to show him I was over him you know? I went back to the café a day before the party and I didn’t even think he would be there Jungkook told me they all quit a while back. So, I figured why not and they were there so I just invited him, I wasn’t expecting him to actually show up but he did. When Jimin came and sat next to you he pulled me away. He told me that he missed me and our times together, that he hates how I smoke and that I don’t hold myself the way I used to and then he cried like hard core sobbed because and I quote ‘ he made a mistake and he’s been madly in love with me since before we even hooked up the first time’ “ Sunny explains.

“Girl let me tell you I was shook honestly and I don’t know how it happened but one thing leads to another and we hooked up in the shed while everyone was sitting at the bonfire. After that Tae had to go and I figured damn he just used me again man, but I woke up in the morning with the cutest good morning text from him telling me that he's happy I'm his again and we just haven't left each other's side” I nod “Yeah, but you actually had the balls to confess. Both of you did really, I don’t have that. I can't tell him how I feel because I'm not sure how I feel.” “Y/N don’t play yourself, cause your ass definitely knows how you feel” She says jokingly “Let’s go” I grab my jacket and rush out the door.

Pulling up the music blaring loud, cars sprawled around the street and yard. Taehyung standing outside, Jimin next to him a smile on his lips. Sunny’s tiny frame running and wrapping herself around Taehyung. Jimin noticing my slowly approaching figure a friendly smile appears on his face. “You came,” he pulls me into a hug “thank god! I could not survive this without you” he pouts. “Why would you think I wouldn’t come?” I question. “Sunny told me big crowds weren't really your thing” dread filled my stomach “I-is there a lot of people h-here?” Jimin nods slowly “But don’t worry you will be with me all night and since it's my party I can clear any room you need okay” He pulls my face into his hands as he speaks and looks in my eyes. I nod slowly “It's fine honestly I'll be okay you don’t have to do that” “EHEM as cute as all this flirting is, I need a drink where shall I go Jiminie?” Sunny cuts me off. “OH! Yeah um lets go inside huh” Jimin says still looking at me his hands returning to his side as a blush creeps onto his face.

The party is packed, my anxiety driving me outside away from the cluster fuck of people. Sunny disappearing soon after we entered the house. Pulling a cigarette out of my pack standing against the side of the house. Its dark, the shadow of the home covering me as I inhale, the nicotine relaxing. Staring at the stars as I lean back. “I thought I'd find you out here” Jimin’s voice breaks through the silence. I hold up the cigarette “Don’t want to smoke in the house.” Jimin nods “Thanks but you could have its cold out here” I shrug “I like the cold....” my eyes drift to the ground “It was too crowded wasn’t it?” He asks curtly. I nod slowly “but it's fine I'll be fine I'm used to dealing with crowds like this I know how to make myself feel comfortable” “By sneaking off and being alone?” He asks laughing. I nod giggling “yeah” “I guess that’s the best way to deal with a crowd” He says jokingly.

My body shifts as I ash the cigarette flicking it far from the house. Reaching for my pack to pull my blunt out, Jimin's hand is around my wrist. My eyes trail up to his face “Let’s go inside huh?” I shake my head “I like it out here.... just us” His hand releases me, moving up to my chin “Just us huh?” a blush creeps onto my face “I-I mean-” “you're cute when you're flustered” He says softly. “I'm not flustered I just...wait did you just call me cute?” I state quickly. He nods laughing “Duh I think your cute, no offense but I wouldn’t be out here if I didn’t...” “Oh...I do too, think you're cute I mean” “I know” He says bluntly I stare at him dumbfounded “Y/N I'm not the type to beat around the bush, I like you and I know you like me and I'm gonna kiss you now” He states pressing his lips to mine. My body in shock from the sudden confession, I slowly respond to his kiss. My arms snake around his neck, his hands on my waist pulling my body against his.

His lips trail down to my neck, sucking. My panties growing wet, he presses me against the wall. “Hmmm you're so damn beautiful.” He whispers in my ear. His member growing hard against my thigh. His right-hand snakes down and lifts my leg around his waist. “Jump” He whispers between pecks against my neck. Following his instructions my legs are wrapped around his waist as he presses his lips against mine. Grinding his member into my core, my panties soaked through my jeans. I softly push on his shoulders. He pulls away as my hand reaches for the zipper of his jeans my lips attacking his neck. Soon both of our pants are off, my legs back around his waist his member buried in my core. He thrusts harshly losing himself in my core “Fuck I've imagined this so many fucking times but it's never been this fucking good god” He moans “it's all yours baby” His lips back on mine at my statement.

It was the best time of my life, but now I sleep alone

Jimin and I have been together for 6 months now and it's been perfect.

*Ping*

Jimin’s phone goes off again, as he beams at the screen. His hands removing themselves from my hair as he replies to the stranger on the other side of his phone. “Baby girl unfortunately I have to put this on hold I gotta go to practice.” He states sadly. Confused I pull my phone out of my pocket and check the time “At 12:23 AM? That’s a weird time to set a practice....” I state. Jimin’s face contorts “Excuse me?!? Are you saying I’m lying?” I sit up “What?! No.... I was just saying it was odd. That’s all” He nods clearly irked by my former statement. “Call me when you get done with practice babe, maybe I'll bring you breakfast or something” I smile at him as he stands from my couch preparing to exit. A soft grunt from his mouth as he pulls his jacket on making his way toward the door “Don’t bother....”. My figure following behind him, like a puppy desperate to keep its owner home. “I love you” I call out as the door slams.

The second he’s out the door my tears consume me as the thoughts take over. Who was that he was texting? Why did he flip out like that? Is he having regrets? I trudge back to my bedroom and lay in bed cocooning myself in the comforter crying myself to sleep, alone.

So darling, don't, don't wake me up, cause my thrill is gone (Say I'm wrong) In the sunset turning red behind the smoke Forever and alone

The sun beaming on my eyes as I check my phone. 12:23 pm no new messages from Jimin. The day goes by extraordinarily slow as I wait for Jimin to return to the apartment. The thoughts of another woman consuming me as the hours pass, soon its night and I am falling asleep alone again.

You've gone and sewn me to this bed, the taste of you and me (You and me) Will never leave my lips again under the blinding rain (Blinding rain) I wanna hold your hand so tight I'm gonna break my wrist (Break my wrist) And when the vultures sing tonight, I'm gonna join right in

I'll sing along, oh 'Cause I don't know any other song I'll sing along But I'm barely hanging on No, I'm barely hanging on By the time you're hearing this I'll already be gone And now there's nothing to do but scream at the drunken moon

*ONE WEEK LATER*

The party I stumble into drunk with Sunny is extremely crowded, her form fitting dress hugging my body. The pregame at my apartment a little excessive, knowing it was Taehyung’s party. Leading my way to the kitchen for a drink, taking me away from Sunny and Taehyung. A crowd of people doing shots, excitedly handing me one. Consuming the unknown shot, I reach for a beer. My drunk form stumbling into the living room, Jimin’s frame in front of me. A smile on his face, drink in his hand. A mysterious woman walking up to him, placing herself at his side. They have a small conversation before she takes his hand and leads him out back.

Running toward the exit, I head home. Once I'm down the street my body collapses as the sobs take over. HE’S CHEATING ON ME, so blatantly, so publicly, he doesn’t care. I open my apartment door dragging myself to my room plugging my phone in bringing it back to life as messages come through on my phone. I click on the messages from Jimin.....

I leave the conversation without responding as I read Sunny’s messages

Throwing my phone down, lying in bed falling asleep. Waking up in the sun beaming on my face, a sharp pain shoots through my head. Getting out of bed to close the curtains I throw myself back in my comforter. Checking my phone 2:19 pm, Damn slept all day. I text Sunny

I go to Jimin’s messages in my phone...

A knock on the door pulls me out of the bed, Jimin’s disheveled frame worried and slumped at my door frame as he wraps his arms around me. “Fuck I needed to see you baby” He whispers. His lips pressing against mine, hunger in them. Lifting me wrapping his arms around my waist, my legs around his.

Our sweaty naked bodies connecting “Fuck! Take it, yes baby girl take that cock” His hand pinning my waist to my bed, his thrusts sloppy. My walls clenching tightly pleasure building within my core as Jimin attacks my sweet spot. “Shit you're so wet for me baby girl I'm gonna cum, where do you want me to cum?” He moans out, his lips attacking my neck marking me as his own. “Cum inside me” His movements halt, His eyes connecting with mine “Are you sure?” I nod quickly. A smile forms on Jimin’s face “beg for it...” the need for him to move builds. I clench tightly around him “No fair baby you're so tight as it is” He pouts, my arms snaking around his neck pulling his lips onto mine as he begins finding a steady rhythm inside me.

Soon we are wrapped up in my comforter, bodies cuddled together; limbs tangled.

*PING, PING, PING*

A series of messages go through his phone. Jimin jumps out of my bed rushing to find his phone. “SHIT! I GOTTA GO” He states checking the contents of the mysterious message. “Aww I thought we could watch a movie....” I pout. He halts his dressing, facing me “I’m sorry, I gotta go I didn’t realize what time it was I’m late for a meeting I wouldn’t have been able to stay I just wanted to be with you until I had to go to the meeting. I missed you.” I nod slowly at his words. “Come back after if you want” He smiles “I'll try..” He says as he heads out the door. “I love you!” I shout as he runs out the door. A meeting???? Did he really just sleep with me and then leave?? WAS I OKAY WITH IT?????!!?!?!

This isn't fair! (No!) Don't you try to blame this on me (Ohhh) My love for you was bulletproof but you're the one who shot me And God damn it, I can barely say your name So I'll try to write and fill the pen with blood from the sink Woah oh, oh oh But don't just say it, you should sing my name Pretend that it's a song 'cause forever it's yours And we can sing this on the way home

I haven’t heard from Jimin in 2 weeks, my messages unanswered. My low point at its lowest, I haven’t left my apartment other than for work in a week. Scrolling through Instagram I see a picture on Taehyung’s page. Him, Jungkook, Jimin, and that mystery girl I saw Jimin sneak off with at that party. Jimin’s arm wrapped around her waist. Her chest pressed against him. Jealousy creeping up inside of me as I text Jimin a number of times again.

A few hours pass and still no words from Jimin, my mind racing as my heartbreaks staring at the photo over and over again. Jimin’s snapchat story updating all day with videos of her, him and Jungkook. Laughter filling in-between them. The last video posted 5 minutes ago, alarming as the mystery woman has obviously stolen his phone captioning the video she recorded as “Surprise Cutie” Her beautiful face glowing as she shows around the practice room. Jungkook and Jimin’s figures dancing in the background as the music comes to an end. The bombshell runs over to Jimin complimenting him on his dance moves.

Jimin’s smile brightens as he thanks her, her frame lifting as she presses her lips against Jimin’s. Exiting out of his story as my heart cracks in my chest. How could he do this? He doesn’t even care... he knows I'm on his snapchat......I can’t do this. My tears taking over my form as I curl into my bed losing myself in the heartbreak. Sobbing I go to view the story and it is gone. A message goes through my phone...

I'll sing along (Oh) 'Cause I don't know any other song (Oh oh) I'll sing along But I'm barely hanging on No, I'm barely hanging on By the time you're hearing this I'll already be gone And now there's nothing to do but tear my voice apart Nothing to do And scream at the drunken moon

Opening the door Jimin's crying figure standing there, his body shaking as the tears stream down his face. “Baby” He sighs rushing to wrap his arms around my frame. He drops to his knees at the lack of affection returned, his tears soaking into the fabric of my shirt. “Please, don’t leave me” He looks up at me begging. “Please, okay? I'll do anything.” I roll my eyes grabbing a cigarette out of my pack as the stress builds. Walking toward my couch displacing myself from the events about to happen. “Look at me, please just look at me” Jimin’s voice says shaky. “You said you want to explain. Explain and then leave please” I say looking him in the eye. “Her name is Hye-Jin she’s another trainee, Me and the boys are debuting soon. So, she is a background dancer for our first stage. She became friends with everyone pretty quickly, but me and her started talking about everything. Nothing flirty just stupid stuff. Then today happens and she kisses me out of nowhere and I freak out on her because I've told her about you about us. She knows how I feel about you; she posted the video to spite me so you’d leave. Please I don’t love her I don’t want her” He explains slowly. Reaching for my hands as the last of his words come out of his mouth “I can't lose you, okay? I can't lose us. You're everything to me please tell me I'm not going to”

“Jimin” I sigh “I think you should go; I understand but I really need time....” His head faces the ground as the sobs take over his body “please baby please I can't walk out that door don’t make me, not knowing you're not going to call me later to tell me goodnight. I can't leave knowing the second I walk out that door you're going to break down just like I am so please don’t make me.” His hands caress my face forcing me to look in his eyes. “Please, I love you and I can't leave knowing this isn't what we need, TIME isn't what we need. Please, don’t do this” He leans forward brushing his lips against mine softly. “Jimin, please go” I whisper, his frame retreating from me as he walks toward the door. He nods slowly “I'm not letting you go I don’t care okay? I'm going to give you time but please know I'm not giving up on you I'm going to wait for you I love you and I won't lose you, not like this” and he's gone....

our bulletproof love shot down with one Bullet.

#jimin angst #jimin smut #park jimin #BTS jimin #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #jimin fluff #jimin angst texts

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ddaenggtan · 5 years

Text

from eden | myg + jhs

you've been in the dark a long time, overworked and exhausted. the only bright point is your gatekeeper, hoseok, your closest friend and the man you love but can't have. you've accepted that loneliness is inevitable for you. when a voice calls to you, though, and moves you so deeply that you rip open the earth to help them, you meet a mint-haired boy that changes everything you thought you knew about your prison. | monsters and gods pt 1 (masterlist)

pairing | yoongi x reader x hoseok

genre/warnings | greek god au, hades!reader, thanatos!hoseok, persephone!yoongi, fluff, angst, smut, mild depictions of violence, mentions of blood (well, blood equivalent, bc gods), pining, depictions of abusive parenting, v v brief panic attack (seriously, I don’t go into a ton of detail, but it’s enough, pls don’t read this if that triggers you at all), love triangle (kind of), polyamory, , mutual masturbation, oral (female receiving), face-sitting, fingering, dick-riding, double penetration, unprotected sex (gods can't get sti's but u can! Wrap it b4 u tap it!), creampie, everyone hates Zeus but what's new, demeter sucks and is the literal worst

word count | 15.6k | cross posted to ao3 monsters and gods masterlis

a/n | hello! i’ve renamed this fic at least ten times, but it’s here!! the first part of monsters and gods!!! i keep seeing hades!yoongi (who i LOVE, don’t get me wrong, seriously you should check out @/seokoloqy’s hades yoongi fics because they’re PHENOM) and while I love hades yoongs, I also keep seeing him in flower crowns and being soft and sweet and, as we know by now, I am ultimately a slut for soft bangtan. so this happened. and then i thought ‘wow this mc is dark af i need some contrast here’ and that’s how thanatos hobi happened, also i couldn’t stop thinking of his Judgement Face, which is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and how fast he switches between that and his smile, plus.....sope, I mean. c’mon. sope. and then it all kinda spiraled into a whole series of fics, only one other of which is even started tho its close to being finished whoops lmao so yeah!!!! pls tell me what u think, i’m not used to writing angst at all, so it may not be suuuuuuper prevalent in this, but i tried!!! also i really recommend listening to hozier while you read it bc i had his first album on repeat while writing it and from eden fits this pretty well imo!!!

It's dark when you open your eyes. You've spent so long down here, you're used to it, but the shadows always seem to make the air colder than it should be. Though you suppose the land of the dead isn't supposed to be warm.

You stretch and wince at the crick in your spine. Another night sitting at your desk, greek fire burning through the hours so that you can scratch away at the papers in front of you. Your siblings always enjoy doing whatever they want, using mortals and throwing them away however they please, cleaning up after each other whenever they can spare the time.

No one ever seems to think about you, nor do they remember the chaos up top only worsens your constant migraines.

No, instead they start their wars and slaughter their enemies and are absolutely oblivious about the fact that the Meadow is at 80% capacity as it is, with more souls arriving each day. Thanatos did well at his job, as did Charon, and you were always sure to be thankful to them, but you wish, not for the first time, that there was someone - anyone - to help with your work.

Your brothers have the naiads, the winds, and the lesser gods to help them with their oceans and skies. Gods of vengeance and retribution help with war, while the fertility goddesses and the muses aid the lovelorn.

And yet here you are, still alone after all these years. Millenia, you've been stuck down here, forced to live out your days in the cold darkness and manage the dead mortals. You've always been introverted, even before you drew lots with your siblings, but never like this. You've tried to leave, of course; at first making short visits to Olympus or the mortal realm, just to speak to another living soul again, someone else who understands what it's like to be trapped in your own life. It seems like every time you came back, though, the underworld had gotten smaller and smaller, nearly suffocating you in an attempt to keep its claws in your skin. And then, of course, came the curse.

You haven't felt the sun on your skin in nearly a thousand years, and while you've always been one for the shade, you miss it. You miss the smell of the flowers in the temples, you miss the sound of the river as it babbles past, you want to feel the warm summer breeze ruffle your hair as you stand in the middle of a marketplace. You're tired of the Fields, you're bored of walking the streets of Elysium with the weight of their stares at your back, sick of standing at the steps to the Isles and wondering if it is, truly, euphoric and if any mortal would ever find out. You don't wear your sandals around the palace anymore; you don't want to hear the footsteps echo. It's just a reminder that you are, truly, alone.

Even the other deities in the Underworld have stopped calling on you. The aura that surrounds you is enough to wilt most any plant, unnerve most every animal, and the gods are no exception. The only exceptions are Hecate, who makes it her personal mission to bribe you into visiting the Meadow if only for a moment, and Thanatos when he can slip away for longer than a moment to distract you from your work. They rarely succeed, but it's the thought that counts, you suppose.

You muse on this as you walk, bare feet skimming lightly over the soil of the Meadow as you make your way to the Gates. You could probably just shadow-walk, if you wanted, you do enjoy giving your Thanatos a fright, but you figure the walk would do you good. There’s no one to bother you as go, thankfully. The dead wander aimlessly around you. There's no acknowledgment as you pass; there's never any recognition of anything in the Meadow, the price mortals pay for being so utterly inconsequential and mundane.

You smile when you see that your friend is busy, and you give a silent command to Cerberus not to alert the man to your presence. The dog whines a little, but sits back on his haunches, shaking the ground as he does so. You're silent as you move up behind the judge.

"You wanted me to tell you my judgment and I have," Hoseok says firmly. "You could have gone straight to the Asphodel Meadow and existed in relative peace for eternity, and instead you request a hearing, and then have the gall to question my decision?" You grimace slightly; perhaps putting Hoseok in charge of judging the souls was not the best idea, but he has yet to be wrong about someone.

"Please, sir," The mortal whimpers. He's on his knees, suit crumpled and dirty where he sits. "I was only doing what I thought was best, please, surely that matters."

"You used children!" Hoseok says in shock. "As slaves! It's 2019 and you had nearly a hundred seven-year-olds sewing clothes together in a cramped warehouse with one bathroom. You seriously expect me to give you leniency because you thought that was best?"

"Their families would have starved without that money," The mortal says. He's on the verge of tears, which has always made you uncomfortable, so you stay hidden for now. "I kept them all fed and safe, didn't I? What would they have done without me? Gone to work in some factory, with dangerous machines and cruel managers, whipped every time they needed to eat?"

"You used children as nearly free labor, barely allowed them time to piss, fed them once every twelve hours, and you expect that to be okay because they could’ve had it worse," Hoseok says. Disgust drips from his voice and you’re inclined to agree with the sentiment. "I respect your opinion, but you are to be punished for your deeds fittingly." Hoseok snaps and two of the Bones come over. These two are in desert camo, one barely tall enough to be an adult judging by the skeletal build, but their grip is unforgiving as they cart the mortal off to the Fields. You don’t even need to mold together a punishment for him; the warehouse you sent others who’d done the same wasn’t quite crowded enough yet.

"Well, that was fun," You call, and delight at the way Hoseok jumps nearly a foot in the air. He glares at you as he turns and you don't bother to hide the smirk on your face. "Child slavery, huh? In this day and age?"

Hoseok tsks. "I know we used to allow some crazy shit back in the old days, but you'd think that people would know better by now. Using children like that, kids…” He trails off, still fuming, and you nod.

“I know.” You pull a piece of lint off his suit with a wrinkle of your nose. “You made the right decision if it helps.”

“I know I did,” He says with a smirk. “I always do.” You roll your eyes and turn away from him, watching the lines of souls head through the gates to their eternal blandness. It's the best way to hide the flush he brings to your cheeks. “What brings you out here, though? Aren’t you supposed to be doing something important?”

“Don’t I wish,” You mutter. “All I’ve got to do is figure out how to expand the realm again without Zeus’ approval.”

“Wait, he didn’t approve the expansion?” You shake your head and step closer to where Cerberus is laying, all three heads focused entirely on you as you rub his middle nose. “Where does he think we’re going to put all of the souls, up your ass?”

“Clearly,” You spit.

“I know it’s not exactly great down here and that they would all rather be thrown into the Pit than visit, but they need to sometimes. If only to see what it’s like. I mean, honestly, what do they expect us to do, just toss everyone in the Meadow and call it a day until there are so many that they’re tripping into Elysium? What the f-”

“Thanatos,” You say quietly, and Hoseok stops. It’s not often that you call him by his title rather than his name, preferring the familiarity of his friendship over the detachment of your positions. “Even here, the gods have ears. You know better than to criticize them like that.”

He huffs but nods his head. You press a kiss to Cerb’s middle nose and coo at him until he starts wagging his tail. When you turn back around, Hoseok is stumbling to keep his balance on the shaking ground. You laugh, which he does not appreciate, but before he can say anything in his defense, another soul is escorted to him by a Bones. The guy is already pleading with Hoseok, who’s returned to the stony mask he usually wears. The silver aura that surrounds him always brings you comfort, reminding you of the moonlight that bathes the surface world, but it has turned colder and is as deadly as mercury. You envy the way he can switch back and forth between his professional mask and the bright, loving man you know; if only it were that easy for you. Without so much as a wave, you weave the shadows around you once more, ignoring the soul's cries to you for mercy, and let yourself disappear into the darkness.

When you emerge from the shadows, you settle at the base of your garden tree. The only living thing that would grow down here, the sole reminder of the world above. Its branches show that it should be close to the harvest soon, maybe a month away at the most. You reach up, weaving through the darkness to pluck a pomegranate from the tree. You don't even like pomegranates anymore, you think as you inspect it. Ripe, juicy, and utterly disgusting; the gods' idea of a joke. The thing that brought about your isolation, your solitude, yet it continues to be the only thing that grows in this wasteland.

You laugh bitterly before tossing the fruit up in the air, letting it fly through the shadows to land beside Hoseok, whatever he's doing. He always appreciates your little gifts, the only real thing you can do to show that you aren't cross with him and are glad for the work he does. He's long been stuck here with you, but the fruit doesn't turn to bile on his tongue the way it does yours. Perhaps the willingness he had that first time made a difference.

Please.

You glance around, looking for the voice that suddenly echoes around you. It's soft, a memory of a whisper. It's not rare for you to hear the voices of the dead in your realm, but this is different. This one strikes you to your core, for this…

This one sounds hopeful.

The prayers that make their way to you are never hopeful. They are sad or angry or scared, always filled with tears and regret and more than a little hesitancy, but never do they have any shred of hope in them.

You stand, eyes narrowed as you look through the darkness for whatever soul may be calling to you.

Please. I don't want to go back. Don't let her take me.

Without thinking, you reach into the shadows. The blackness swirls around your fingers, unsure where you're trying to go. You don't know yourself, and you wish you did. You aren't sure why you're doing this; you rarely answer prayers, least of all the ones that don't mention you specifically, but something in this voice calls to you. It resonates in your chest, shakes your very being because you remember that feeling. You remember the way it felt to be free, standing in the sun and clawing at the earth as Gaia dragged you back down to your post, tears mixing with the dirt as you pleaded, begged her not to take you back down there.

With a jerk, you pull the shadows apart, and the ground quakes above you. You watch, anxiety pooling in your gut, and it's only the intensity of your focus that lets you see it: a figure, falling limply through the earth that you've opened. The string of curses you let out would make even Ares blush, and it's with a rush you haven't felt in millennia that you weave the shadows together into a net and toss it upwards. The figure falls into it with ease, shadows wrapping around the body to glide gently downwards until they can deposit the person with ease at the roots of your tree.

Your breath catches in your throat as the darkness recedes, revealing soft mint hair with flowers woven into it, pale green robes that are sliced nearly in half at the back and caked with mud. The man is beautiful and soft and bright, every inch the antithesis to your own black and grey clothes. You hesitate to even look at him, too afraid of dulling that sun-kissed skin with the death you carry on your fingertips.

His brow furrows and he winces, though his eyes remain closed. You blink owlishly before guiding the shadows around him once more; when you're sure he's secure, you pull him along behind you until you reach the only spare room you have in the palace. You situate him on the bed there, fluffing pillows and smoothing blankets until you can almost pretend he fell asleep there of his own accord. With pursed lips, you assign three of your Bones to watch him; one just inside the door and two outside of it, just in case whatever he was running from attempts to come for him.

You don't want to leave him, but you have work to do, and the land of the dead cannot rule itself.

It's dark when he opens his eyes. There is Greek fire in the corner, and shadows dancing on the walls around it, but he cannot make out much else. When he sits up and slides his feet off what feels like a bed, he hisses. The marble is cold and unforgiving against the bare skin of his feet and he doesn't know of any feeling like it. He's too accustomed to the dirt and grass from his mother's domain, and even the white marble of Olympus was warm to the touch. This is different. Alarming. New.

He eventually works up the nerve to stand fully. Looking around, he doesn't see any kind of light sources other than the brazier in the corner, so he grips one of the coals in his palm and uses that bit of light to find the door. The fire tingles against his skin, but he's long since grown used to holding fire in his palms for his mother. The warmth is comforting for a brief moment before the image of his mother flashes through his mind. He flinches at the memory of her face, twisted with wrath, and the stone drops out of his grip before he can catch it.

The marble of the wall is cool against his back as he slides to the ground, knees brought up to his chest and his eyes screwed shut against the darkness. There's a vice around his chest and he can't breathe and he can't see and he doesn't have any idea where he is or if he's even alive or if she's stuffed him somewhere he'll never be able to escape and the thought makes his head spin as the air catches in his throat and gods don't even truly need to breathe and yet he can feel the cold claws of death tighten around his throat and all he can see in his final moments is the horrifying face of his mother's anger and he can feel the vines and roots around his ankles once more and-

"Who the hell are you?"

He looks up, pushing the sweat-covered hair out of his eyes. There's a man, in the darkness, who exudes a faint silver light around him that illuminates the walls and black marble floor. The man doesn't seem angry that he's there, or even all that surprised; just curiously resigned. There are so many questions on the tip of his tongue, so much he wants - needs - to know but only one makes it past the rock lodged in his windpipe.

"Am I dead?"

The man frowns and shakes his head. "I seriously doubt it, since you didn't cross the river." The man looks him over, taking in the flushed skin and sweat beads and the purple robes he donned the moment he decided to run and seems to decide something. He crouches down so he's eye level, poised on the balls of his feet with his elbows on his knees, and even in a full suit, he looks impeccably put-together. "I'm Thanatos. You can call me Hoseok. If you'll let me, I'd like to take you to someone who probably has a better idea of what you're doing here." All he can do is nod, and Hoseok extends a hand, which he uses to bring himself to a shaky stand.

"I'm Yoongi," He says, hesitant and quiet. "Um, I'm Kore. Or, Persephone. Either one."

"I think I'll stick with Yoongi," Hoseok says. His smile lights the hallway that Yoongi stands in, and it eases something inside him, though he isn't sure what. Hoseok doesn't let go of his hand as he guides Yoongi through the corridors, and talks to him the entire time. He speaks of his duties there, souls he's judged that day, ones he wished he could do more for, comforts Yoongi when a walking skeleton in Roman armor passes him and explains that those are the security force of the palace. By the time they make it to a large room, lit on each side with braziers of Greek fire that give the room an eerie glow, Yoongi has a fairly good idea of where he is, and who Hoseok is taking him to see.

The large ebony throne at the end of the room and the black-robed figure sitting atop it only confirms his fears.

When Hoseok enters the throne room, you're only slightly surprised. It wasn't entirely uncommon for him to take a break from his judicial duties, and so long as there were plenty of Bones to watch the gates, you had no issues. Years would sometimes pass before Hoseok needed to return, relieving the judgment council once more and returning them to their own afterlives.

To see him shadowed by the mint-haired boy you pulled through the earth, however, is a shock.

You set the papers you'd been writing at to the side. Your robes, woven from shadows and dipped in the Styx, swirl around your bare feet as you move to sit correctly with your back straight instead of lounging as you'd been doing before. The darkness you’d brought forth to cushion your chair, plump and fat and soft underneath you, shifts as well, keeping the hard edge of the marble from digging into your skin. Hoseok stifles a smile at the sight and you narrow your eyes at him. You wish he'd say something about it, the punk.

"What can I do for you, Hoseok?" You eventually ask as he and his companion reach the steps just below your throne. Even now, you can barely bring your eyes away from the boy behind him; he's radiant, the light in the room seemingly drawn to him despite the way he's slouched into himself.

"I was just wondering if you knew how this young man came to be in the underworld, my lady," Hoseok says. Your eyes dart back to him and you can't help the way your heart softens at the soft silver shine around him. You look to the mint-haired god again; his eyes dart around nervously as if he expects something to jump out at him, and he's close enough to Hoseok that if the other were to step back, they'd both likely fall to the floor.

You lean forward in your throne, doing your best to project a calm and friendly air to the shorter of the two gods. "Do you not remember?" You ask quietly. Your eyes don't leave his big brown ones, and you can see the moment the panic sets in. "It's fine, you don't need to answer me. Just know that you're safe here."

"Yoongi?" Hoseok says quietly, drawing the boy's attention. "Hey, it's alright. We're not gonna let anything happen." It takes several minutes but eventually the boy - Yoongi, apparently - nods. He hasn't relaxed at all, but he doesn't seem like he's about to bolt out of your throne room, so you consider it a success.

"You were praying," You tell him softly. "You asked for my help, so I gave it, as best I could. I don't think you meant for your words to reach me, but they did." Yoongi frowns ever so slightly as he takes in the knowledge. There's a hint of anxiety in his face, his brow furrowed adorably, but he doesn't startle when Hoseok rests a hand on his shoulder. He looks up, though, and the two of them seem to have a silent conversation. Something settles in your stomach, seeing the ease with which Hoseok interacts with him, and you swallow down the lump in your throat. It's ridiculous to feel anything like this; Hoseok is your subordinate and friend, and you've hardly known Yoongi for five minutes.

"He can stay here, right?" Hoseok asks. You look to Yoongi, wondering if he even wants to stay, if he even wants to be here at all or if he wished someone else had answered his prayers. Hoseok calls your name softly and your gaze flicks to him. "Can he stay?"

You find that you're debating with yourself. Yoongi clearly doesn't belong here; he is soft and sweet and gentle and completely at odds with the harsh, depressive atmosphere that lingers in your palace. He looks terrified even now as he takes in the room, eyes lingering on the bones that were fused together to make your throne. And yet...you cannot escape the fear and hope that had echoed in his prayer, the sheer desperation that someone would help him. He had been running and terrified, which could only mean that he was being chased by something or someone, and you couldn't force him out if he was in danger.

"If you would like to stay," You say after a moment too long, "Then you are, of course, more than welcome to do so." You rise from your throne, shadows dissipating as you do, and take a couple of tentative steps toward the pair. He doesn't shrink back in fear, which you take as a good sign. "The guest quarters will be yours to do with as you please. Hoseok can show you around the palace and grounds, so you don't get lost, and the Bones can bring you anything you require." You move to press a hand to Hoseok's arm, and you level him with a careful look.

"Of course, my lady," Hoseok says. He turns to Yoongi with a radiant smile. "And you can leave whenever you'd like."

"Of course," You agree quickly. "Hoseok can take you back and forth across the river as you wish. Charon can be quite fussy about it." Several times, your guests have been stuck on the wrong side of the river until someone brought your ferryman his payment. Yoongi looks slightly less terrified, and in the emerald glow of the fires, you notice how wide his eyes are. "Oh! You're from the surface, of course, I forgot."

With a snap of your fingers, the sconces along the walls light themselves, and the candles ringing the large chandelier in the center of your throne room surge to life as well. Yoongi startles a little, stepping closer to Hoseok.

"Ah, I forget you surfacers can't see as well down here," Hoseok mutters. "We'll get you a candlestick as well, just in case." He nods to you, Yoongi copying him in a most adorable way. They're halfway out of the room when a thought occurs to you.

"Yoongi?" You call after him. He turns, and the green halo around him makes your heart falter. "Don't eat the pomegranates. Not even the seeds." His brow furrows in confusion but he gives a hesitant nod before he turns and hurries after Hoseok.

As much as your chest aches for him, you won't subject him to this life. You watch him go and wonder how long he'll last in this hellscape.

When their shadows have long disappeared from the walls, you turn and retake your seat on the throne. With a wave, a small team of Bones appears in front of you - the same uniforms, with the same unit numbers, stamped on their dog tags, and the same haunted look where their eyes once were - and you do a quick count. Ten should do fine for what you need.

"Scour the earth. Do not speak to anyone. Find out what he was running from, and if it still searches for him. Don't let anyone see you, and don't let anyone know why you're looking. Return if you're in danger. Report to me immediately." They salute, and you watch their forms slowly disappear, becoming more and more transparent until they glide upwards and through the cracks in the ceiling.

You sit back and wonder how long it will take for you to get answers, and if it will be before or after Yoongi realizes he's too good for this place.

Yoongi is quiet. That's the first thing Hoseok notices about him. He doesn't initiate conversation, really, instead content to listen to Hoseok talk about the various souls he's judged and the occasional escape attempts someone has made. At first, when Yoongi speaks, he's quiet, like he doesn't really want - or expect - to be heard, and he always looks pleasantly surprised when Hoseok answers his question or responds to his comments.

It makes his heart ache, and he wonders what exactly Yoongi has gone through to make him so shocked that anyone would actually listen to what he has to say. It takes weeks for him to warm enough to Hoseok to start speaking more often, to ask questions about his day, to actually request specific things. The day Yoongi asked Hoseok, soft and hesitant, if he could show him the Meadow and the tree, Hoseok almost cried. Yoongi was so obviously ready to be told no, fully expectant for Hoseok to decline such a simple request, and it only reinforced Hoseok's need to give the god everything he could ever want.

"What are you doing, Yoongi?" Hoseok asks when he looks up. They're at the gates, Hoseok in the usual position, eyes roving over the lines of souls slowly shuffling forward, and Yoongi sitting nearby. Cerberus is curled up behind him, dwarfing the god with his massive body, all three heads snoring and slobbering as they sleep haphazardly on top of each other. Yoongi glances up at Hoseok as he grabs another flower from the basket beside him.

"I'm making Cerb some flower crowns," Yoongi answers as if it was obvious. Hoseok frowns.

"Flower crowns?" He echoes. "What's a flower crown?"

Yoongi gives him a disbelieving stare. "It's a bath salt. What the fuck do you think it is, Hobi? It's a crown made of flowers." Hoseok is caught off guard by the sarcasm, as he has been every time Yoongi has spouted off some kind of sass to him. He strides over and crouches beside the mint god to watch him.

Yoongi's fingers are sure and steady as he weaves the stems of the flowers together. It's already half-dozen, Hoseok thinks, the crocus blossoms blending together prettily and not straying in the slightest from where he places them. Hoseok hasn't ever seen anything like it, and he's entranced by the way Yoongi's fingers move and the way the flowers seem to just do whatever he wants without much coaxing on his part.

"I had the Bones bring me back a basket from their last excursion," Yoongi says. "Since none grow here." He stops with one last crocus and eyes it critically before apparently deciding it was good enough. Hoseok can't take his eyes off the thing, enraptured even as Yoongi sets it gently on his head. Hoseok can feel his eyes widen and his cheeks flush red.

"Thanks," He says after a second, one hand darting up to steady the crown as he shifts his weight. He smiles, unable to help himself and poses. "What do you think? Does it suit me?"

"Ugh, you wish," Yoongi says. Hoseok can see the smile in his eyes and is satisfied with the mirth threatening to bubble past Yoongi's lips.

"Y'know," Hoseok says after a while, hands in his pockets as he watches Yoongi make the second crown for Cerb. "I bet if you planted some seeds near the pomegranate tree, they'd grow." Yoongi's hands stop moving, his eyes drifting up to look past Hoseok. Something similar to excitement hides behind his eyes, and Hoseok wants nothing more than to bring it out to shine. Yoongi cocks a brow as if to say 'really' and Hoseok nods.

The gummy smile he gets in return, full of hope and light that the underworld hasn't ever seen before, is well worth the potential scolding you may give him for suggesting Yoongi fiddle with the tree's courtyard. And the way he keeps the flower crown nearby, hanging off a hook on the gates long after the blossoms have wilted and died, is worth the shy smile Yoongi gets every time he sees it.

You don't see Yoongi for the first few weeks he's there. Not really. You catch glimpses when he passes through the palace halls with Hoseok, and he sits with Cerberus while you visit Hoseok at the gates, but he makes no effort to seek you out, and you respect that distance. You can't bring yourself to force your company on him. You're an acquired taste; Hoseok has been in this realm for so long that he's accustomed to the darkness that follows you, the aura of death and despair that usually surrounds you. He's been surrounded by the dead almost as long as you have, so you know he can't be affected by it. Yoongi, though…

Yoongi is life. He's the springtime blossoms in a summer breeze, he's the sound of birds chirping in the treetops, he's vibrant and fresh and lovely and you cannot ruin that. You can't watch him wither away like a winter garden, you can't watch the color drain from his skin until he's just as much a ghost as the souls that wander the Meadow, you can't let him become just as dead as everything else in this cursed place.

So you leave him be. You offer curt nods when you see him with Hoseok and polite waves because giving any more of yourself to him without letting yourself get closer would be too dangerous. Even with the distance you keep, your chest tightens with every smile that graces his lips, you ache to hear his voice even just once, and it's too much. It's too much for someone you haven't even had a real conversation with. Someone who looks at you with apprehension and anxiety, yet brings undeniable joy to the man you've always held in your heart.

It's too much for you to feel like this for someone who makes Hoseok smile as if he's seeing sunlight for the first time in thousands of years. You love Hoseok too much to stand anywhere near them.

You've been avoiding both of them for days. You can't bear to see Yoongi's gummy smile and Hoseok's adorable dimples as they gaze at each other, and you're busy enough to make a decent excuse for it. Expansion isn't difficult, but keeping it quiet is. Plus you've been on the hunt to figure out what had been after Yoongi with such ferocity that it sliced right through his robes and had him praying to anyone who would listen.

You had a few helpful leads, but nothing concrete, and it was more than a little frustrating. Which is why you find yourself stepping out of the shadows of the pomegranate tree, hopeful that it could help to ease even just part of the emotions rolling in your gut.

The sight of Yoongi surprises you, even more so when you see that he's on his knees beside the tree with dirt covering his hands and a smidge of something on his cheek. He looks absolutely wondrous, like everything you've been missing from the world above, and it would bring tears to your eyes if you let it because he's so far out of your reach.

"Hi," You say after a long debate with yourself. Yoongi's head shoots up and he fixes wide eyes on you. He reminds you of the ones who come to you with no memory of what's happened to them, scared and alone and about to get the worst news of their lives. "What are you doing?"

"I'm sorry," He says immediately. "I didn't mean to, not really. You just said not to eat them, and I'm not, so I thought it would be okay. Hobi suggested it and you two are so close that I figured he'd know if you'd be upset."

"I'm not upset." Your voice is as gentle as you can make it. "I'm just curious. Hoseok didn't mention anything to me, and no one really comes here."

"Oh." The relief is palpable as it courses through him, and he looks back down at the ground in front of him. "I'm just planting some flowers so I can make more crowns for Hobi and Cerb. The others died so fast, and I don't want to keep sending the Bones out to get more if I don't have to."

"Oh, you made the flower crown for Hoseok?" You'd figured as much. No one else in the underworld knew how to make them, and Yoongi was the only consistently around him. "He showed me that, it was gorgeous."

"Obviously, it was made by me, after all," Yoongi spouts. You gape at him, and he gives you a contrite grimace. "I'm sorry, my lady Hades, I forgot who I was with for a moment. It won't happen again."

"It should," You say before you can stop yourself. He glances at you curiously. "I don't mind if you're relaxed and casual around me. I've never been one to enforce the rules that Olympus has. Hoseok is proof enough of that. And you can use my name, I don't mind."

The way he whispers your name, almost as if he's practicing it to himself, makes your heart flutter in your chest. It's so dangerous to be around him like this, relaxed and casual; it's so easy to forget that it's Hoseok that gets this, that deserves this small piece of sunshine.

"Well," Yoongi eventually says. "In that case, you can get to work. I've got an entire basket of seeds left to plant around this thing, and I can only work so fast. Plus I'm getting hungry."

"Oh. Okay, show me what to do." You don't hesitate to mirror his position, robes bunching under your knees in the dirt as he points at the small holes he's carved out of the dirt with the trowel and rake the Bones nabbed for him.

Yoongi is patient, you learn. Not extremely so, but he walks you through what you need to do with clear directions. The seeds are small in your hands, which amuses you to no end, and there's an odd delight in packing the soil around them and dripping water down onto them after. You're smiling for the first time in...you don't know how long, and the feeling of Yoongi's hands around yours as he shows you how to use the trowel is something akin to paradise.

His hands are rough; calloused and weathered and wonderful against the softness of your own. You start to talk freely to him, asking him about each seed you plant and what they are and how they look. He tells you about each one, the deep timbre of his voice like music to your ears. He rolls his eyes at every joke you make, despite the way he smiles, and hits back with several quips of his own. He listens as you tell him, voice shaking, about the pomegranate tree, and how it curses anyone who eats its fruit to stay trapped in the underworld forevermore. He talks and listens and jokes and laughs and it's only after you've made a particularly ridiculous joke that you realize your mistake.

"You've spent too much time around Hobi," Yoongi says. "He made the same joke yesterday." He's looking down at the last few seeds, plotting where in the courtyard to put them, and doesn't see the way the smile dies on your face. You'd forgotten. For a brief time, you'd forgotten that this is just pretending.

You don't get to keep this. You don't get to stay here, in this courtyard, with Yoongi and his rough hands and the mint hair that falls in his eyes and his gummy smile. This isn't yours. You don't get flower crowns and jokes and soft kisses, no matter how much you want them, just like you don't get Hoseok's bright grin or his dimples or his long fingers intertwined with yours. Your heart aches for these two beautiful boys, both of them everything you could ever want in so many different ways. And yet you have neither of them, you don't get either of them. They are each other's, and there is no room there for the death you bring in your wake. You kill everything you touch; the mortals whisper about the cold grip of your hands on their neck as they pass over.

You look back over the seeds you've helped Yoongi plant and wonder how many you've killed before they even lived.

You stand and brush the dirt off your robes. "Well," You say, careful to keep your voice level. "I've got some things to do. I trust you'll be alright on your own." You can't bring yourself to look at Yoongi, can't bear to see the dirt that smudged along his cheek, can't stand to see the way the orange robes drape along him and remind you of the way the autumn leaves looked coating the grass in the meadows.

He doesn't even get a response out before you flee, but you feel his eyes on your back long after you've hidden in the shadows and sunk down onto your bed.

It's astounding, you think as you rinse the dirt off your hands later, how a single afternoon planting seeds with someone can be so detrimental to the walls you'd put around your heart. Tears blur your vision and your fingers are trembling, but you keep scrubbing until the phantom slide of his hands against yours is gone and there is no more evidence of the planting you'd done. When you finally stop, your skin is raw and throbbing, and there are tears running down your face.

You had long accepted that Hoseok could never be yours. You were in two different positions, and he was much too bright to want to be with someone like you. Your shadows would have suffocated him, so you resigned yourself to being his friend. Friend is safe. Friend is good.

You’d known the same when you met Yoongi. Bright and colorful amidst the darkness of the underworld, you wouldn’t dare to get any closer to him, too familiar with the fluttering of your chest and the jumping in your stomach every time you saw him. Just being friendly was enough, ensuring he is safe and happy is fine with you.

But this? Watching the two of them grow closer and closer, able to love each other so wholly while you stand alone in your darkness, watching their bright smiles and soft looks, all directed only at each other, for eternity? This was too much for you to bear. Being hopelessly in love with one man you can’t have is bad enough, but two of them…

You wish for the first time that you were not immortal, but a meager human upon the surface, unaware and blissful in your ignorance.

He never expected this. Not from the moment he woke up, not when he was sprinting through a forest to escape his mother, not for a single heartbeat could he ever imagined everything that has happened to him since he arrived in this cold land.

He’s been alone for so long, hidden away in his mother’s garden with only the rare visit from Artemis or Hestia as he learned how to do anything and everything his mother wished. He’s never had friends before, he’s never had the subtle inside jokes that he shares with Hoseok, familiar enough that even just a quick glance can have them both bursting with laughter. He’s never known a goddess like you, able to weave together the darkness into something tangible, something useful, something real. It’s like nothing he’s ever seen, and Hoseok’s uncanny ability to bend the environment around him and use his silvery aura to turn almost invisible to the naked eye never ceases to amaze him. The two of you are so powerful, so utterly awe-inspiring, and every single thing his mother had told him is so far from the truth that it almost hurts.

Neither you nor Hoseok is standoffish, really; he can see the hesitant friendship in every smile you send his way, and Hoseok’s primary concern at any moment is making sure he’s happy and safe. It warms Yoongi in a way he could never explain, not even in a million years, simply because he’s never felt this way. In all the books he’s read, the plays he’s seen, every mortal he’s watched, he’s seen this.

He’s seen how they turn red with just a look, how their hearts stutter when hands brush, how they smile, soft and private when they think no one is looking at them. He’s seen this feeling, the bubbling in his chest that he gets every time Hoseok laces their fingers together while walking and the moment you step into the courtyard and see the kaleidoscope of colors that you helped plant. He never would have guessed that he would feel it, though, too isolated from the rest of the world until he came here. Until you pulled apart the earth itself to help him escape, without even knowing why or who he was.

The feeling grows inside of him, thorns pricking into his every breath because he knows it can’t last. He’s seen how you and Hoseok look at each other when you think no one is watching, can feel the pull between you and the years upon years of familiarity that lie between you. The two of you are closer than he could ever get, two sides of the same coin, and more suited to each other than he would ever be.

And he can’t stay.

That’s the worst part. He knows it, knows that she will find him before long and wrap her claws around his throat and drag him back into that gilded cage she calls a greenhouse just to leave him. It’s for the best, my dear, she’ll say, it’s to keep you safe.

Yoongi doesn’t want to be safe, though. He wants to be happy and free, and he’s found that place here, surrounded by death even as he carves out his own little area of life. With Hoseok’s warm grin across from him and your own cool fondness beside him. With flower crowns atop his head and Hoseok’s, and the small buds are woven into your own crown of bones and grief as a small reminder that even in death, there is life.

But she will find him. She always does. And though he cannot bear the thought of leaving you, he will, if only to keep you safe.

Yoongi's been there almost a year when you summon Hoseok to dine with you. By the time he gets to your office - a very understated term for the sprawling library - you're already sitting at your usual desk, food pushed aside and forgotten in lieu of the papers stacked in front of you. Even with your head bent low and bags under your eyes, you're the most beautiful person Hoseok has ever seen.

He remembers the first time he met you when Zeus had assigned him to be the gatekeeper for the underworld. You were so young, so skittish and worried that you were going to be a terrible ruler as if the dead could be disappointed in you. You'd been beautiful then, too, but not in the same way. You've grown into yourself since then; you're no longer afraid of being a bad queen. You know that you're competent and capable, you know you can do this, and you frequently prove wrong any Olympian who says otherwise. You're mature now; strong and confident and brilliant, and even with the bags under your eyes and the shadows that lick lovingly against your skin, you are absolutely radiant.

Hoseok is so in love with you that it physically hurts him, and every time he looks at you, he is reminded of how you are just out of his reach.

He clears his throat and you look up. The tired smile that graces your face warms him, and he settles into a chair on your left with practiced ease. This isn't the first time you've asked him to dine with you, and it won't be the last.

"What's the occasion?" He teases, delighting in the way you roll your eyes and gesture to the food and nectar that sits in front of him.

"How is Yoongi?" You ask. It doesn't escape him that you don't answer, but you always have your reasons, so he doesn't call you on it.

"Well. He wanders around on his own and doesn't seem to jump at the slightest sound anymore. He came with me the other day when I judged and managed to pick fifteen people for Elysium in a row." An expression passes over your face that he can't decipher. He continues anyway. "He still won't talk much about what happened, but he also doesn't seem to be in much of a hurry to leave. I imagine he'll get bored eventually, and we'll need to give Cerb extra treats when he does, but I'm not concerned just yet."

You nod and Hoseok starts to eat as you rifle through a few more papers. "You know he's Persephone?" You ask, and Hoseok nods. He'd forgotten to share that knowledge with you, but clearly, you had your own way of finding things out. "So then you're aware that his mother is Demeter."

Hoseok pauses for a minute. He swallows the food in his mouth and really looks at you for the first time since he sat down. The bags under your eyes are more prominent, and you're wearing your Hades expression. The one that stays professional and controlled and tells people nothing of your true thoughts. Well, people that haven't known you for more than a thousand years.

"Hoseok, he can't stay here forever," You eventually say. "She's been looking for him everywhere. The humans' crops are ruined, ice and snow have covered the earth, more people are dying than we can hold right now. She won't stop."

"And that means we kick him out?" Hoseok hisses. You close your eyes and he can feel the sigh you're holding back. "You said yourself that he could stay as long as he wants. You can't just rescind that because some wheat goddess is going on a rampage. We still don't know what he was running from, or if it's still out there, and I won't watch him-" He stops, frozen by the way you're pressing your tongue into the side of your cheek. It's the only tell you have and he rarely sees it, because you rarely keep things from him. "What do you know?"

You don't answer, and he repeats the question, louder this time, as he surges out of his chair.

"I was running from her," Yoongi's voice echoes through the library. You and Hoseok both turn to see him standing in the door, and Hoseok's heart swells at the sight. He's in soft, muted pink robes that Hoseok knows he made himself. His cheeks are rounder, and he's no longer curled in on himself. He looks stronger. Confident. Unafraid. "I was running from my mother. That's what you found out, right?" Hoseok looks to you, and the regret in your eyes just confirms it.

"I'm sorry, Yoongi, I was only trying to make sure you were safe, I didn't mean-"

"It's alright," Yoongi says as he moves to run his hand along your cheek. "I know." He smiles at you. Hoseok looks between the two of you - Yoongi's hand resting lightly on your cheek and a soft smile on his lips while his eyes crinkle with rare happiness, your own eyes wide and full of what can only be described as pure, unadulterated love - and his stomach rolls violently. Even after all the time Hoseok has spent with you, and with Yoongi, and the times he's entered a room to find the two of you in comfortable silence, he never expected this. He should've, he realizes; the two of you are a perfect match, complementing each other to near perfection, each fault being smoothed over by the other's strengths.

How could he have thought you wouldn't fall in love with Yoongi? Soft, kind Yoongi, who had just enough snark inside of him to make every word out of his mouth an unexpected joy. Yoongi who braids flower crowns with the flowers he's started to grow in the courtyard, surrounding the pomegranate tree with the beautiful blooms. Yoongi, who encourages Hoseok to judge more and more souls, ones that don't request it, who can somehow pick the good people from the bad just by looking.

And how could he have ever expected Yoongi not to fall for you? Strong and intelligent, determined and kind. You who opened your home to him in his most vulnerable moment and never expected anything in return. You who did everything in your power to find what was chasing him, and find a way to stop it. You, with your lonely smile and your bare feet. You, who Hoseok himself has been in love with for tens of thousands of years.

How could he have expected either of you not to fall in love in the months that you have known each other when Hoseok couldn't even stop himself?

“I’ll go back to her,” Yoongi says softly, finally dropping his hand from your cheek and turning the radiant smile on Hoseok. “She’ll have no reason to continue this if I return.”

“I can’t ask you to do that, Yoongi,” You say immediately. ““You were desperate to get away from her, and...what she almost did to you, that’s unacceptable.”

“Let her rage,” Hoseok agrees. “You’re safe here, no one can get to you without getting through the two of us first, not to mention Cerberus and the Bones. No nature goddess will last in this place, not with our full force around you.”

“Thank you, Hobi, but no. I can’t ask you both to do that, not when it could end so badly for you. You don’t know what she can do, it’s not-”

“You aren’t asking us,” You say. Your voice is as quiet as always, but there’s a firmness there that Hoseok recognizes. It’s usually saved for the throne room when some mortal has been particularly annoying or stubborn, and it’s a shock to see it directed at Yoongi. “We are offering. Let us protect you, Yoongi. At least let me speak with Zeus about this. I may be able to convince him to intervene.”

Yoongi hesitates, the indecision is written all over his face, and Hoseok leans to lace their fingers together. It’s a familiar gesture, done so often to prevent Yoongi from getting lost that it’s second nature at this point.

“Please,” Hoseok pleads when Yoongi looks at him. “Please, Yoongi.”

The reluctant nod is all the confirmation needed. You’re already scribbling out a summons for Hermes to carry to the lord of the gods, and Hoseok is halfway through the halls to reinforce the gates and ensure Cerberus knows his task. He tries not to think about the way Yoongi lingered behind, one hand on your shoulder as he watched you write and the other caressing the flower-riddled braids he’d made earlier that day.

He doesn’t think about it, because in the end, it doesn’t matter. Hoseok is so deeply in love with the two of you, so grossly enamored, that he would go to the end of time itself if it meant keeping the two of you safe and happy. Even if that meant watching you love each other and not him.

“What do you mean, he won’t help?”

You massage your temples without looking up from the letter Zeus had sent back with Hermes. He was, unsurprisingly, not helpful. Hoseok had appeared not long after the messenger had left, and is, also unsurprisingly, irate.

“According to him, he has no dog in this fight, because Yoongi isn’t his son, he’s Demeter’s, and if he were to get involved, he’d side with her since the humans are dying so quickly, which isn’t exactly good for worship numbers.”

“Are you kidding me? He seriously said he’d take her side in this?”

“Not in so many words, but yes. And I get it, Hobi. His job is to keep the peace between everyone in Olympus, and without actually coming here to give me an audience, all he has is Demeter’s side of the story.”

“Which is?”

“That I kidnapped her son and am currently holding him captive in a dungeon down here.”

“That’s absurd. He’s not captive at all, he’s happier here than he ever was up there, and you didn’t kidnap him!” You give a slight nod to show that yes, Hoseok, you’re aware of the truth. “Does he know what she does to him? How she treats him?”

“Hoseok, please,” You mutter. The weight of Zeus’ words is like a blade against your throat and you want nothing more than to help Yoongi. Clearly, the Fates have decided against that. “You know how he is. Do you honestly think he’d care? She has a claim to him, despite what he wants, and unless we find a way to get Zeus down here or go there ourselves, our lord won’t be able to hear any other side of this story.”

“Then we’ll...we’ll go there! We’ll make them listen! You could talk sense into him, make him see that he needs to help.”

“You know I can’t do that, Hobi.” Hoseok flinches, as if just remembering that you are as captive here as the souls you keep. You’re glad, not for the first time, that Death Itself cannot be contained, so that Hoseok, at least, is free to come and go as he pleases. “And before you say it, no, we can’t ask him to go. It isn’t safe. The second he sets foot outside this realm, she’ll pull him back. We’re lucky that he hasn’t already told her where Yoongi is.”

Your statement is punctuated with a muffled thud, and the anxiety that runs through you is mirrored in the look Hoseok gives you. Another thud echoes through the palace, the ground rumbling under your feet, and you stand.

“Where is he?” You ask, already pulling the shadows around you.

“Just past the gate, walking through the Meadow. If we hurry-”

“Go.” You disappear into the blackness, never more glad that Hoseok can sense the living in your land. When you step away from the shadows, Yoongi is there, confusion written across his face and fear in his eyes. “You have to run.”

“No,” He says. “I’m not going to keep running from her. I’m staying here, she can’t take me back.”

“Yoongi, please,” You beg. He’s too vulnerable here, too open, too easily seen with his spring green robes billowing around his feet and flowers woven into a crown atop his head. He takes your hands in his and pulls you close, and you’ve never seen a fire like this in him. It burns hot and strong and it makes your chest ache for what could have been.

“I won’t let her hurt you while I hide away like a coward,” He whispers. His thumb wipes away tears you didn’t know were there, and determination floods through you.

"Please, Yoongi. Let us help you. Let me help you. I-" The words choke in your throat, but Yoongi nods as if they made it out.

"I love you, too." His voice is soft, barely audible over the shaking ground and the deafening sound of hooves slamming into your gates. You feel more than see Hoseok land beside you, and his hand rests on the small of your back without hesitation.

"Take him," You tell Hoseok. "Go to the palace. You'll be safe there. Don't let him leave."

Hoseok's eyes are fire-bright as he wraps an arm around Yoongi's waist. The god's protests fall on dead ears, even as you let your hands brush over the softness of Hoseok's ink black wings. Just one moment, that is all you want, just one single second to pretend.

"I'll see you after, my lady," Hoseok says firmly. You don't have the heart to correct him, nor the time, so you just nod. Yoongi's screams echo in your ears even as you turn, the blackness that lingers at every corner of your realm swirling around your feet and ready to be whatever you need. You let one last year fall from your eyes as the gates crumple, and the furious eyes of Demeter fixate on you and the black-winged figure carrying her son away.

Hoseok flies faster than he ever has, determined to get Yoongi into the palace and relative safety. The god sobs in his arms, still struggling to get back to where you stand in the Meadow, the massive form of Demeter towering above you, but Hoseok doesn't relax his grip. You gave him an order; he hadn't disappointed you yet, and he isn't about to start now. Not with Yoongi caught in the middle.

He doesn't hesitate when he touches down in the palace, wings retracted and brushing ever so slightly against the black marble floor. He turns to the nearby Bones and orders them to the doors, summoning as many others as he can spare from the gates and Fields to help barricade the palace from the goddess.

"Hobi, you have to go, you have to help her," Yoongi sobs. "She's gonna...I can't, Hobi, please, you have to keep her safe."

"I have to keep you safe," Hoseok replies. He's got a vice grip around Yoongi's arm as he pulls him deeper into the palace, doing his level best to avoid any window or door to the outside. "That was the order she gave and that's the order I shall obey."

"How can you say that?! Don't you care that she could-"

"Of course I care!" Hoseok spits, rounding on the shorter god the second the words leave his lips. "Do you think this is easy for me, Yoongi? Do you think I enjoy choosing between the two of you like this? Because I don't. I want nothing more than to be helping her right now, but I can't...I can't leave you alone here. It's too dangerous."

Hoseok isn't stupid; he knows exactly how he feels about you, and Yoongi, and he's not oblivious to the way the both of you look at him. Still, the two of you are powerful deities, worshipped and loved, feared and prayed to. He's just a guardian, content to sit in the background and watch for threats. Yes, he loves you, with every fiber of his immortal soul, but he also loves Yoongi, and he knows you love Yoongi, and you gave him an order.

"Hobi," Yoongi whispers, eyes wet and red and beautiful. "Hobi, please, you have to help her. She needs you. I can manage, I can hide, but she needs you. No one else can help her."

The fact that he's even considering this shows just how easy it is for Yoongi to manipulate him. Hoseok understands now, what you meant all that time ago. Yoongi's voice is rough and lingering and fearful but it carries so much hope that it digs into Hoseok's skin like a hook. He curses and bundles Yoongi into the corner.

"Stay hidden. Don't make a noise. You can't let her find you." Hoseok hesitates for a split second before pressing a quick kiss to Yoongi's forehead. "I will see you after this."

"I know."

It's never been harder for him to turn his back on someone, but Hoseok manages, with only one last look back before he takes to the air and surges forwards to where you stand, keeping Demeter back with every piece of your power.

Yoongi runs. He runs and runs and runs, the bare skin of his feet silent on the cool marble. The braziers have long since gone out, but he stopped needing them months ago. He knows where he is, even as he tucks himself into a small, nearly invisible niche in a corner. He hardly dares to breathe, too scared that the sound will alert his mother of his location. The palace is silent, not a single sound in the entire thing, and it's deafening in the aftermath of the rumbling screams that signaled your battle with her.

He isn't sure how he managed to convince Hoseok to leave him, whether it was the obvious love the god felt for you or the sheer desperation in his own eyes, but he could only pray the two of you made it out. As gods, you're all difficult to kill, but it's not impossible. Not for other deities.

Come out, little flower.

Yoongi stifles a whimper, panic coloring his vision white for a long while before he can breathe again. Memories flash behind his eyelids and he pried them open just to stare into the darkness.

You can't hide forever, little flower. You know that.

Her voice echoes against the marble. It makes her sound like she's everywhere and nowhere at once, able to find him even as he hides. He clenches his teeth and reminds himself that you and Hoseok are the only ones that know this palace better than him.

You're making me very angry, little flower. Why do you run? I only want the best for you, and you insist on causing such a fuss.

The sound of her sandals reaches him, reverberating off the walls and telling him that she's far too close. He slips silently out of the niche and pads across the floor on the balls of his feet. He doesn't make a sound, something he perfected in his time with her, and just as she slips around the corner, he's darting down another hallway.

Look at what you've done, little flower. All this mess, and for what? Do you like it when I'm angry? Do you enjoy this game of ours?

He slips into another hall just in time. Exhaustion has made him slow. The marble of the wall is cool against his heated skin, and he wonders where you are. Where Hoseok is. If you're alright or if you're laying in the Meadow, golden ocher pooling around you. The thought enrages him, and for the first time, he can feel power at his fingertips; real power, not the simple gardening magic she taught him as a child. He's ready to use it, he thinks. He's so tired of running, so tired of being afraid, and he's so fucking angry that the people he loves have had to fight his battles for him.

Found you, little flower.

Warmth circles his ankle and pulls before he can jerk away. Her nails are sharp than before, like sickles at the end of each long finger, and he scrabbles uselessly at the smooth stone floor. She's speaking but the sound of her voice - wind whispering through a field of wheat, a brook babbling in the summer - is drowned out by the blood pumping in his ears.

"No, I won't go back, you can't make me," He hisses, kicking at her hand with his free leg. He doesn't feel the cuts on his soles, doesn't register them at all until he sees the gold dropping onto the floor; the adrenaline masks the pain. She says something else and he stops kicking, though he doesn't know what she's said. He isn't listening, too busy thinking of a way out of this.

It comes to him, all at once, and he relaxes in her grip. His chest heaves in a sob, because he knows exactly what he has to do, and you will never forgive him for it.

"Alright," He says flatly. Demeter stops in her monologue. "I'll go with you. Just leave them alone." The smile that splits her face is more grotesque than any corpse he's seen in the Styx, but the way she releases his ankle is a blessing. He keeps himself hunched and downtrodden as he pushes himself up, into her waiting arms. The hug is bruising and brings vile to his throat, but it is necessary.

It's with a flash of green as he pulls away from her that he makes his move. The flower crown previously atop his head has morphed, grown into thick, thorny vines around her arms and keeping her in place.

Yoongi is gone before she can so much as screech, sprinting as fast he can through the halls to the one thing that can help him. He feels it when she rips through his flowers, his very soul shaking at the pain that rips through him, but he's determined. He's made good ground, he only had a little further to go.

The vibrant colors of the courtyard have never felt so welcome. He's halfway through, blossoms crushed under his feet as he tears through the carefully tended flowers, when she catches up. The blade of her scythe rips through his back, but the adrenaline masks the pain. He's bleeding, he knows, but he can't bring himself to focus on anything but the way the bark feels under his grip, branches reaching down to help him reach his goal.

She tears him out of the tree violently, no longer wearing the carefully sculpted mask of love. The scream that she unleashes when she sees him shakes the entire realm, soft pebbles falling from the ceiling of the cavern miles above his head, but he doesn't care.

The pomegranate is ripe against his tongue, juice tinting his lips pink, and the weight of it against his chest has never been more welcome. Demeter screams for what could be centuries, but Yoongi does not care, because he has won, and he has never tasted anything so sweet in his entire life.

"Come to bed," Hoseok pleads, not for the first time. You look at him with a sigh. His wings are gone, hidden away until he needs them again, and his arm is free of the bandages he's been wearing. It has taken so long for him to heal, and you still aren't sure he should be up and about. There's a small, barely perceptible scar along his forearm, the faintest reminder of what the two of you survived.

"I have to finish this before he returns, Hobi," You tell him, also not for the first time. Hoseok scoffs and comes around the desk to stand behind you, eyes roving over the documents in front of you.

"It's been over six months," He whispers in your ear. "Zeus has approved your expansion requests. I'm fine. You're fine. Yoongi will be back from Olympus soon."

"Hoseok," Your tone is warning despite the way he whispers your name. You deflate, falling back in your chair and letting him rub your shoulders. "I just miss him."

"I know. I do too." You're both quiet for a while. It has been six months since Demeter crashed into your world and rampaged through the Meadow to find Yoongi. You remember it so vividly, the way you struggled against the unbridled fury she had, the way Hoseok screamed as she broke his wing, the pain in your chest as you'd crawled to him and just held him in your arms until the Bones had made it to the two of you and carried him to the palace.

You had been, and still are, vastly proud of him and Yoongi for fighting back, but that didn't change the fact that they had both put themselves in immense danger by doing so. Even with the - admittedly brilliant, if stupid - plan that Yoongi had come up with, things never really worked out for you. Hoseok had been bedridden for weeks, unable to even more because of the pain in his wing. Hermes has helped with the healing process, which you were unendingly thankful for, but Yoongi had been carted off to Olympus almost immediately for negotiations.

Zeus, benevolent leader and incompetent moron that he is, had decided on a compromise: Yoongi would stay with you in the underworld after the harvest was finished, free to do whatever he liked, but until then he had to stay in Olympus. The letter had mentioned something about reparations to the mortals for the utterly obscene amount of crops they had lost - which was ridiculous really, they were doing their level best to kill the planet and you are gods, since when do gods pay reparations to mortals? - that Yoongi was required to use his abilities to help with.

You'd sent Hermes back with several colorful threats of what exactly would happen to the billions of dead you kept here should Yoongi return in any way other than utter perfection, and you've been anxious for days to find out whether you get to follow through on them. It only worsens when you remember that you have a decision to make when Yoongi returns. You remember the way he looked when he said he loved you, returning words you couldn't bring yourself to say, and you remember the elation and subsequent depression that came after the battle at the realization that you could have had him, were he not gone for half the year.

And yet you also distinctly remember the way Hoseok looked, wings splayed over several tables to hold them in place as they healed, vulnerable and shy as he told you that he was sorry for disobeying you. You won't ever forget his face as he explained, the way his lips formed around your name when he told you he couldn't beat to see you hurt, not after so many years spent loving you. The feel of his lips against your skin is like a phantom even now; Hoseok had waited until he was healed to do anything more than press chaste kisses against your knuckles, and even still you've not felt him the way you want, but it hasn't stopped him from trying.

"Come on, my lady," Hoseok says, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "Just for a while." You grumble under your breath - you really do have work to finish before Yoongi arrives - but you allow Hoseok to pull you from your chair and lead you down the hall to your bedroom.

So lost in your own musings, you don't notice the figure lounging on your bed until he speaks.

"Six months and I don't get even so much as a hello?"

Your eyes shoot up and your breath hitches in your throat. Pale green robes lined in the most beautiful black and silver embroidery pool around him, matching the braided crown that rests atop his head. You didn't know flowers like that existed, let alone that they could look so wonderful on someone.

"I didn't know you were back," You breathe.

"That's the point of a surprise, my love," Hoseok says from behind you, hand tightening around yours. Guilt begins to grow in your chest and Yoongi tsks at you. He rises and comes to stand in front of you, brow furrowed.

"That's no way for a queen to look, is it? What has you thinking so hard?" His thumb smooths the space between your brows and you can't help the glance to Hoseok.

"I can't...I don't want to hurt you." Your voice is barely a whisper, and the familiar sting encircles your heart once more. You couldn't choose between the two of them, not if you tried, not even if it meant getting out of this place.

"You won't," Hoseok tells you with a familiar grin. "Yoongi and I have already talked about what we feel for each other, and for you. The only question now is if you'll have us. Both of us."

Months ago, you would have called them crazy and had them exiled for fear they'd gone mad. You never imagined you could have one of them, let alone both; you had been ready to tell them both that you had been mistaken because having one by your side while your heart still yearned for the other was far more cruel than anything you could put in the Fields of Punishment.

Now? Now you know what the Isles must feel like. It is Yoongi in front of you, thumb brushing lightly against your cheek while Hoseok's warmth is steady behind you, one arm encircling your waist and keeping you steady.

"Both of you?" You echo. Yoongi nods.

"You don't have to," Hoseok says from behind you. "But we know how you feel about us, and we're sure in how we feel for each other. There are stranger pairings in the world, aren't there?"

"Only one of you could be king." You aren't sure why you say that, can't remember why it even matters when Hoseok trails his lips over the shell of your ear.

"I never have looked good on a throne," He says. Yoongi's chest rumbles in a laugh, and you could cry at the sight of that familiar gummy smile.

"Please," Yoongi eventually says. "Please say yes." You search his eyes for any hint of indecision or regret, and when you find none, you turn to Hoseok. He has a soft, encouraging smile on his face, and he holds your crown in his free hand. The cool black metal is harsh against his tanned skin, but what draws your eye isn't the way the bones are fused together or the etchings of historical scenes across each. No, it's the soft pale green blossoms woven in among the metal, a stark contrast to the harshness of the bones, and the silver thread twined around all of it, dipping in and out in various places but clearly noticeable in the light. It's a perfect representation of the three of you and it makes your chest swell.

"Yes," You breathe. They don't move, and your eyes dart between them. "Yes, absolutely. I can think of nothing I have ever wanted more."

Yoongi surges forward, capturing you in a long-awaited kiss. His lips are soft as blossoms against yours, warm and gentle as the hands that cup your jaw and draw you closer. You're aware, distantly, of the soft clink of metal on stone as Hoseok sets your crown to the side, though his arm never leaves your waist.

Hours could have passed with Yoongi kissing you. You aren't sure. Time runs together and blends, a dizzying whirlwind of slow drags of his lips across yours followed by quick, messy bursts of his tongue. You can barely focus on what is happening, mind split between the absolute euphoria of kissing him and the heat that comes from Hoseok's fingers dancing along your waist and shoulders, his breath ghosting over your neck as he watches. When Yoongi finally detaches from your lips, he ducks down to suck at the exposed skin of your collarbone, and Hoseok turns your chin so you face him.

"May I, my lady?" He asks. His voice is rough and deeper than you're used to, affected by the sight of you and Yoongi. His fingers twine with the strings holding your robes together and you give him a nod. It doesn't even take a full breath before the black material is pooling at your feet. Hoseok stifles something that sounds suspiciously like a moan behind you, and you think Yoongi actually purrs. They both run their hands along your skin, basking in the goosebumps that they raise and the shivers that crawl up your spine.

"Absolutely ethereal," Yoongi mutters. You pull him into another kiss, one hand coming up to rest against his shoulder while your other tangles in Hoseok's hair where he's doing his level-best to leave his mark on your neck.

"Please," You murmur. "I want to make you happy."

"You've already done that, my queen," He says. His smile is soft and the glint in his eye is sharp. You huff a little and tap twice at Hoseok's neck; when he pulls away, pouting but compliant, you push Yoongi until he's falling back onto your bed. He goes with no objections, one hand twining his fingers with yours and you crawl up to straddle his hips. "Let me please you, my queen. I've been waiting six months to taste you, and I don't want to waste another moment if I don't have to."

Your breath hitches as Hoseok steps up behind you. The bare skin of his chest is a shock as it presses against your back, and he slides his hands along your sides before beginning to tease your nipples. You stifle the moan, emitting more of a whine than anything, and you think you nod. All you know is the heat between your legs and the knee-deep ache to make them happy.

Yoongi's between your legs in a flash. You can't be sure how exactly he moved so quickly without jostling you, but the thought is all but shoved out of your mind as he swipes his tongue against you for the first time. You're glad Hoseok is behind you because your legs are already trembling where they're curled under you and your head drops back to rest against his shoulder. As merciless as Hoseok is in his torment of your chest, Yoongi is doubly so.

You imagine a man starving and dehydrated in a desert wouldn't be this invested in a sudden banquet laid in front of him; Yoongi worships you, circling your clit several times before dipping down to dart teasingly in and out of your hole. He laps up every single drop of your arousal, dutiful in his mission even as Hoseok begins to whisper sweet nothings into your ear. The heat of his breath has you closer to the edge than you want to admit, but the sheer love that radiates from his words at the same time Yoongi rumbles out a heavenly moan straight into your folds, tongue buried inside of you, is what drives you over the edge.

You aren't surprised when neither of them stop; you get the sense Yoongi is thoroughly enjoying himself between your thighs, based on the growing tent in his robes. Hoseok grinds against your ass, and his own hardness presses against you with every painless thrust of his hips. A pang of guilt shoots through you and your hands drop. It's a bit of an awkward angle, but you make it work as you glide your hands over him. He's thick, that's for sure, and nearly as long as your forearm. How you're supposed to take that inside of you is anyone's guess, but as Yoongi brings you to yet another orgasm with his mouth, you realize that's exactly what they're preparing you for.

The whimper comes unbidden, walls clenching around nothing at the thought of them filling you, and they both shudder. "Please," You gasp, "Please, I need you. Both of you."

Yoongi graciously lets you rise off of him, and when you settle on your back, he sits up to smile at you. His lips and chin are absolutely coating in your slick, the sight erotic and exciting. The feeling is doubled as Hoseok grips Yoongi's chin, turning the mint-haired god to face him.

"How does she taste, my flower?" He purrs. You don't hear Yoongi's response, just the deep thrum of his voice, but you see the way Hoseok runs his thumb across Yoongi's lips, collecting your juices, before sliding it into his own mouth. You moan at the sight, Hoseok's eyes falling closed as he relishes in the taste of you. Yoongi strips out of his robes while he can, and he doesn't seem to miss the way your and Hoseok's eyes watch hungrily.

"Tell me what you want," Hoseok says, pulling you closer as Yoongi settles behind you. "We're here for you, my queen."

"I…" You falter. You aren't even sure what you want now; you've spent six months trying to figure out how to tell both of the men you love that you can't be with either of them and now you have both of them naked in your bed, waiting to please you. You can hardly think, can't focus beyond the feel of their skin against yours and the heat of their gaze, but you know one thing.

You need them to know how desperately you love them, and with the fire burning between your thighs, there is exactly one way you can do that.

"I need you inside me, Hobi," You tell him. "I need to feel you inside of me. Yoongi, too. Both of you." Hoseok's cock twitches and something in his jaw clicks. You don't wait for more of a response, choosing instead to slide across the sheets to straddle Hoseok's hips. His hands rest lightly on your hips, tentative now, and you smile at him. His hands are gentle now, soft as the smile he gives you in return. His cock is dripping and red, a warm heat in your palm as you guide him to your entrance.

The look in his eyes, the small moan he releases, the hitch in Yoongi's breath behind you as you slowly sink down onto Hoseok will forever be etched into your memory. You're so full that you could cry; he feels absolutely perfect inside of you, and it only gets better as he guides you carefully up and then back down onto him. Your moan is felt more than heard and it only gets louder as he speeds up. His fingers are marble against your his, unmoving and firm as he slides in and out. He doesn't look away for a second and neither do you; all the years you've spent thinking about him, the millennia you've ached to love and be loved by him, it has all led to this. Your hips moving against his, connected in a way you've never been before; if it were possible to read his thoughts, you think you could at this moment, because they must be a mirror of your own.

"I love you," You whisper. Yoongi's warmth presses against your spine as he slides a finger between the two of you to rub slow circles into your clit, and you gasp. "I love you, Hobi, so much." The words are a mantra on your lips, and you think there may be tears in his eyes but you can't be sure because you're coming again, shuddering on top of him, and Yoongi is gently pulling you off.

Hands turn you, and now it's Yoongi between your legs, cock red and throbbing where it sits against his stomach. He isn't as long as Hoseok, but he's wider, and you clench again at the sight.

Yoongi opens his mouth to say something, but you stop him with a soft kiss pressed against the corner of his mouth. You slide down onto him, welcoming the slight burn that comes with the stretch. It takes two breaths for you to become impatient and begin to move, grinding your hips down against his. Yoongi isn't as loud as Hoseok, soft pants and whines where Hobi is echoing moans and groans, but it's just as attractive. He moves his hips in tandem with yours, and the muses themselves couldn't have created a better rhythm. The words fall from your lips again; it's easier, now that you've said them to someone, to let them go. They don't ball in your throat, aren't a lump to swallow down anymore, and you revel in the feeling.

"I love you," Yoongi returns, thumbs ghosting over the skin of your thighs. "So much, both of you. Saved me, can't fucking...fuck, can't tell you enough." You nod and loose another moan when Hoseok slides a finger in alongside Yoongi's cock.

"Do you think she can take us both, my flower?" Hoseok asks. His voice is raspy in your ear and you shudder as you orgasm again. There's a moment when you wonder just how many times you can come from the two of them, but it's gone the second Yoongi speaks.

"I think she could," Yoongi responds. "She's certainly wet enough. Absolutely soaked, aren't you, my queen? Do you want that? Both of us in here, filling you up?" He punctuates every word with another thrust of his hips and you nod. You don't think you've ever wanted anything more.

Hoseok is careful as he fingers you, working you open with one, then two, then three fingers as Yoongi slides in and out. You'd commend them both on their stamina if you could spare a single thought to anything but the feeling of them. Yoongi looks wrecked, covered in sweat with swollen lips, panting and desperate as he writhes beneath you.

When Hoseok finally decides you're ready, he slides his fingers out and asks you again if you're sure. You barely have the presence of mind to nod, too close to coming again, but it's enough for him. He slides in, and all three of you are moaning. You can't be sure what it feels like for them, but you're in absolute bliss. Hoseok peppers your shoulder with chaste kisses, murmuring encouragement as he sinks deeper inside. His cock drags against your walls and Yoongi's dick, and the thought makes you clench around them both. You're so full, you may explode, but it's perfection. When Hoseok bottoms out inside of you, you're all still for a while, just getting used to it.

"You're perfect," Hoseok whispers into your skin. "Both of you, you're both fucking perfect. Fuck, can I-?"

"Yes," You interrupt. You're already grinding down onto them, desperate for any kind of friction. "Please, Hobi." He grunts as he starts to move, and Yoongi does the same. They get a steady rhythm after a while, one sinking in as deep as he could get as the other drags outward, only to slam back in at the last second.

A sob builds in your throat, the sheer pleasure rolling through your body too much to handle as orgasm after orgasm slammed into you. There are hands everywhere, two on your hips keeping you steady, two roaming your body and teasing your nipples, on one Hoseok's neck to keep him close as another rests lightly against Yoongi's throat. You aren't sure which are yours, can't tell where you end and they begin, too fucked out to be able to think beyond the drag of their cocks against your walls and the growing ache inside you.

"Please," You gasp. "Please, need it. Fill me, please, need you both to fill me, make me yours, forever. Mark me. I'm yours, always, please, fill me with you." They both groan at that, and their pace speeds up. They're hitting harder and deeper and brushing against the spot inside of you that makes your vision turn white. Something gushes down your thighs as you spasm around them wildly, hips jerking of their own accord, and you feel it as they come together, hot seed spilling inside of you as you ride out your highs together.

You're panting and sweaty and hot and still, you don't think you'd trade this for even a moment of sunlight. They slide out of you and their cum seeps down your legs before you can stop it. You fall to the bed beside Yoongi, chest heaving even as he wraps you in his arms. A wave of your hand creates a small fan near the bed, shadows churning out cool air that feels like ambrosia on your skin.

Hoseok reappears with water for you both, and you thank him. Your voice is nearly gone, but it's worth it, you think. You pat the space beside you and Hoseok climbs in. His skin is hot against yours; the three of you are essentially a furnace at the moment, but you can't bring yourself to care. You can't count how many orgasms you had or how long you spent with them; it could have been minutes or hours or even days. It doesn't matter to you, really. Sprawled between an already-sleeping Yoongi and a Hoseok that's tracing invisible designs onto your skin, you have everything you could ever want.

Later you sit atop the shadows near your bed, chin in your hand as you admire the card between your fingers. Yoongi and Hoseok are wrapped around each other in your bed, lightly snoring as the sheets rise and fall against their naked chests. As you watch them, Hoseok’s brow furrows and he lazily stretches his arm to pat against the bed in search of you. He snuffles a little, and Yoongi nuzzles deeper into the crook of his neck until they’re both quiet again.

Silver foil glints in the light and you look back at the card in your hand. There’s a stack a hundred high beside you, all of them identical to the next save for the curling letters that make up the recipients, but this one is special. This one is your favorite. If you didn’t absolutely have to send it off, you would frame it and hang it above your throne; ultimately, though, you’d rather bask in the aftermath that’s sure to come.

With a small smile, you set it atop the others and wrap the bit of twine around them all. It’s gone with a wave of your hand, no doubt appearing wherever Hermes is. You wish you could see the look on his face when he realizes what they are, but he’s not the one that you really wish you could watch.

The raspy call of your name brings you back to the present, and you look up to find Yoongi watching you, lids heavy with sleep and eyes dark. “What are you doing?” He asks.

“Nothing.” You grin and stand, letting the shadows underneath you fall away. “Just sending out a quick notice.” You slide in beside him and Hobi, the latter still asleep but turning to wrap his arms around you nonetheless. Yoongi presses kisses to your knuckles and you pull a stray flower petal from his hair.

“You’re gloating, aren’t you?” He mutters. There’s a smile behind his eyes, and it warms you.

“Maybe a bit.” You lean over and kiss him, gentle and tender and you hope that it conveys everything you can’t put into words. “Would you rather I didn’t?”

“No,” Yoongi answers after a long pause in which he moves to straddle Hoseok’s hips in order to get close enough to suck marks into your neck. His lips are slow against your skin, tired and lazy from sleep. “I think I enjoy this side of you, actually.” “I, for one, am very much enjoying this side of you.” You grin at Hoseok’s words, smiling down at him. He’s half-hard again, hands resting lightly on Yoongi’s hips and eyes fixed on the bruises that bloom on your neck. “I thought we were sleeping.”

“We were,” You tell him. “You can always go back to sleep if you want.”

“You wish,” He mutters. Yoongi groans against your neck and you look down to see Hoseok palming him, working him up to fullness as Yoongi fucks into his hand. You wrap one of your own around Hoseok and return the favor; the way his moan echoes through the room is better than anything the nine muses could have created.

It’s slow and tired, each of you already spent from your earlier activities, but when you eventually drop between them, chests heaving from your orgasms and already half-asleep again, you think it’s worth it.

When you wake later and find a card sitting on the flower-woven throne - a new addition to the hall, one most welcome - crumpled and half-torn with a thorn sticking out of it, you know it’s worth it.

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multifandomimagin3s · 5 years

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Snippet; Erron Black x Reader Smut

AN: This is a little piece of the Erron Black x Reader smut that I’ve been working on. This is the more SFW section, but I’ll post the entire fic, including the sexy times, soon!

Summary; Erron has been sent to hunt down the reader, but she isn’t going down without a fight...

It was supposed to be a simple job: hunt down the target and bring them back. He’d done jobs in the past that felt almost impossible, to the degree where he’d considered packing up and leaving. But money was always a great incentive. Erron found himself cursing his hedonism, since the money he was being promised was beginning to be eclipsed by sheer frustration. You were one of the hardest targets he’d ever had to chase - and he’d followed different assassins and criminals from realm to realm, all for the bounty on their heads. It was getting ridiculous.

There had been a few close calls where he almost had you in his clutches, but yet again, you slipped right through his fingers. It was as if you were toying with him, like an overly confident mouse nipping at the cat’s paws. He had an odd amount of respect for you - there weren’t many people would dare taunt a mercenary in such a way. But, he would not return empty handed. He was Erron Black, and if he wanted to uphold his reputation, then he needed to finish the job.

You were a thief, he knew that much. And apparently, a very good one at that. According to Kano, you owed a lot of people a lot of money - most of it was either stolen, or was worth its weight in stolen artefacts. It was evident that you’d pissed off a lot of dangerous people, which in turn made Kano interested to make your acquaintance – should you live long enough. It was impressive to say the least, and even more impressive that you hadn’t been caught. Erron would have probably complimented your skills had you not been evading him for the past fortnight.

“You lost, stranger?” Erron stopped in his tracks, slowly turning his head to peer at you over his shoulder, from the corner of his eye. In that moment, with half his face concealed by a bandana, paired with the shadow that was cast from the lip of his hat over his steely gaze, he looked threatening. Through the grape-vine, there were stories of the gun-slinger’s skills were remarkable yet repelling, which is why you’d taken to avoiding being in the line of fire when he began to hunt you down.

“Not lost, Darlin’...’M lookin’ for someone,” His answer was very vague but held a sharp edge, as he stared you down. He wasn’t an idiot, years of working in Outworld had made him very wary – anyone could kill if they put their mind to it. And nine times out of ten, they would try. So, naturally, he was going to be standoffish.

It was important to act aloof and friendly; he couldn’t find out who you were. You plastered a kind smile across your lips: “Who? Maybe I can help you, I know a lot of people around here.” You played coy. Of course you knew who he was looking for, you’d only just managed to shake him off your trail a couple of days prior. But you weren’t going to let him know that - the thrill is in the chase, not the capture. And you’d much rather be alive, not beheaded at the hands of someone you’d wronged.

Well, ‘wronged’ isn’t the correct word. It wasn’t as if you were using the money you’d taken for selfish splurges. If anything, the people you’d stolen from were the selfish ones. They sat in riches, living decadent lives, watching the poor suffer and wither away. It was wrong.

“Maybe, maybe not - but, no offence, Sugar, I barely trust the people I know - let alone someone I’ve just met,” He pivoted slowly on his heels, taking a few slow steps towards you, the sandy gravel crunching under his boots. There was no denying it - he was a very attractive man. In any other situation, you probably would’ve considered dating him but, for now, he was a threat. A very handsome threat, but a threat nonetheless,” Besides, I wouldn’t wanna drag a pretty, little thing like you into the line of fire.”

“As charming as you are, you don’t need to worry about me - I can take care of myself,” You retorted, arms akimbo,” You just looked like you could use some help, but if you don’t want it then, fine.”

Erron mulled it over in his head, brow quirking in curiosity at your outburst, eyeing your form cautiously. You didn’t appear to be all that threatening, but then again, looks can be deceiving. He knew that all too well - many of the women that he’d been with in the past were beautiful, and angelic; the same women were quick to kick his ass. You were much the same – he could never resist a pretty face – but that gave him all the more reason to be cautious.

“Have you seen someone roamin’ around these parts; wears a kind of grey unitard, a hood - steals stuff?”

“This is Outworld, there are thousands of people here - there are probably hundreds who dress like that,” He clicked his tongue at your blunt response. It was true, he needed to be more descriptive. You needed to know how to lead him off your tracks.

“Not like this one, you ain’t,” You stared at him incredulously. It was important not to let on that you knew what he was talking about - he wasn’t stupid. One wrong move, or expression, and it could be all over,”They have abilities – powers.”

“Powers? Like what?”

He half-shrugged, his guns jangling slightly as they jostled in their hostlers,” Don’t really know, they can control metal – which isn’t handy for a gunslinger. “

Ah, of course he would remember that. The last time he found you, he’d succeeded in backing you into an alleyway, with a dead-end; in retaliation you had pulled away his weapons from his grasp with your powers, using the butt of his rifle to knock him out cold. Erron pulled down the lower half of his mask briefly to show you the bruised and battered skin of his left cheek; the impact must have been spot on. You feigned shock, sucking in air through your teeth,” Oh, she got you good, didn’t she?”

He paused momentarily, readjusting his mask. A glint danced in the centre of his eyes, a brief chuckle leaving his lips: “Yeah, you could say that,” Well, yeah - he’s the one with the busted face, after all,” You might’a seen her pass through here - she glows green when she’s using her powers, so that ought to make ‘er stick out.”

You shook your head,” Nah, I haven’t seen her -“

“Now, why is it that I don’t believe you?” He was quick to cut you off. Your brows scrunched together in confusion. He couldn’t have figured you out so quickly, could he? He cocked his head, eyes boring into yours; his stare was blank, it was like you were looking into the eyes of a predator.

“Excuse me? I’m trying to help you -“

“You said ‘she.’”

“What are you talking –“

“How did you know I was looking for a woman?”

Fuck.

He chuckled as he noted the recognition in your eyes. Your jaw clenched, facial expression morphing from confusion to displeasure.

“Finally - I have been chasing your ass for weeks – but fun’s over, and I gotta take you in, Babydoll.”

You grinned with a sardonic chuckle,” Yeah, that’s not happening - sorry to burst your bubble.”

Erron reached for his gun, but was cut short when you jumped forwards, landing a hard punch into his gut. He let out a grunt, making a grab at his holster – only to find it empty. An emerald, ethereal glow emanated from your form, irises glinting a vibrant green. Normally, powerful women were his type - especially ones with a little spice to them. If it weren’t for the fact that he needed to get paid, he would probably be fawning over you.

“C’mon, Darlin’, this isn’t personal - my ass just wants to get paid,” He tried to bargain, as you spun his revolver around your index finger, the other tucked away into the sash-waistband of your loose, beige trousers.

“Wow - how convincing; and here I thought we had a little something-something, since you’ve been chasing me around for so long,” You pouted, mockingly,” You know how the saying goes - ‘treat them mean to keep them keen’ - but, I think that’s run it’s race.”

“Business is business, Sweetheart - man’s gotta live,” He took a slow, cautionary step forwards,” You should get that, we’re the same.”

You scoffed,” We are not the same – you are a mercenary, and I’m a thief, we aren’t even in the same playing field.”

“You’ve killed before too, can’t deny that.”

“I’m from Outworld, of course I have – being soft in this world will do you a lot more harm than good.”

The mercenary swung his rifle round over his shoulder, resting the butt in the crook of his shoulder, pointing it at your form. You rolled your eyes,” Erron, we’ve been down this road before – it’s how you ended up with a bruise the size of Texas on your face.”

He huffed,” I know – but I’m just tryin’ to warn you, Darlin’ – I suggest you come with me, before someone else gets to you, there are plenty of people out there that would love to see you hurt, and they aren’t nearly as nice as I am.”

“Aww, how precious,” You jutted your bottom lip out. His eyes narrowed,” You’re worried about me, well, bless your heart.”

His finger twitched on the trigger, it caught your eye instantly. You were obviously chipping away at his self-control. The green glow that surrounded your form began to swirl upwards, growing in intensity as you prepared for his next attack. Erron remained still, gaze lingering on the way your palms began to take on a neon green shade,” Now, I don’t want to hurt you –“

You chuckled bitterly, a ball of energy levitating in the palm of your hand,” Yeah, don’t worry about that too much, Sweetheart.”

#mortal kombat #erron black #erron black smut #mk #mortal kombat smut #mk 11 #mkx #not my gifs

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bigskydreaming · 5 years

Text

Imagine the Batkids hanging out at like....the food court of a mall or something, Jason keeping paparazzi at bay with finger guns that manage to be wildly ominous even if the gulping paparazzo have no true idea WHY that particular motion from this particular man has cold beads of sweat breaking out on the backs of their necks. Damian loudly proclaiming he hates everything and everyone even though he only half means it, well at least until Tim asks if he needs them to go get him a booster seat. To which Jason stops long enough to cackle about Tim finally finding someone he can actually literally look down on, it must be like Christmas for him, and meanwhile, Duke idly says to no one in particular that he can never decide if he accidentally got adopted into the Addams family, the Manson family or the Kardashians.

“I would be great at being a Kardashian,” Jason muses.

“Well you’re already 90% ass, so you’ve got that going for you,” Steph chirps brightly.

“Die, but for real this time,” Jason volleys back, equally pleasantly.

“I can’t believe the English major is suggesting I plagiarize him,” Steph says with eyes wide in mock bewilderment. Jason scoffs.

“What English major? In case you’ve forgotten, I never even finished high school, I was busy being de - “

He cuts off as Cass holds out her palm and Dick and Duke both slide ten dollar bills across the table to her, accompanied by groans. Tim jabs a finger at her with a scowl, half rising out of his seat in outrage.

“That doesn’t count, he didn’t even finish saying it!”

“Also, you’re cheating,” Damian adds on hotly, too incensed to notice he’s literally standing in solidarity with his most hated enemy. Though Tim catches it, if the slightly constipated look on his face is anything to go by. “Do you really think us so blind we can’t tell that Brown blatantly set that one up for you?”

“Don’t hate the players, hate the game,” Steph says sagely, as she and Cass split the take.

“What the hell just happened?” Jason asks. No one looks anywhere near the zip code of apologetic.

“Well we definitely didn’t all get together once a majority of us had done the knock knock knocking on death’s door thing ourselves and wound up making a long-standing bet about how long you can go without bringing that up and where the clock restarts each time you do,” Steph says thoughtfully, eyes intent even as she stares off into the distance, like it’s an actual mystery and she’s really trying quite hard to scry out the answer.

“What?” Jason says flatly.

“In my defense, they were doing it long before I came along and they said it was like, a family tradition,” Duke offers.

“I mean, it’s not like we lied,” Tim shrugs. “Besides, it was Cass’ idea and she’s died twice, so it’s allowed.”

Jason redirects his ire on their sister. “Why are you the worst.”

She shrugs. “I died.”

“I used to think having a sister would be cool. I can’t believe you ruined sisters for me.”

“Bite me, little brother,” she says sweetly. His face flames. Detonation imminent.

“I’m older than you!”

“Not if you don’t count the six months you were dead,” she sing-songs. “Besides, Tim’s lying. It was his idea.”

Jason’s head swivels like a turret-mounted missile launcher. Tim chokes on his French fry.

“What the hell! That’s not tr - .” He trails off then, frowning slightly. “Wait, was it? Oh. Right.”

Jason’s eyes narrow, tension on the trigger, but Tim rallies and just shrugs unrepentantly.

“Eh. You’ve tried to kill me like three times. Suck it up.”

“Next time, I’ll be sure to try harder,” Jason growls. Tim smiles serenely and takes an extra obnoxious slurp of his milkshake.

“See? You’ve learned something new today. You’re welcome.”

“Why am I not live-tweeting this,” Steph wonders, yanking out her phone and sending digits swiftly flying across its keys. Dick leans over on her left to view her screen.

“Are you tweeting as Batgirl about her fellow vigilantes, or the random blond stranger always seen out with the Waynes but that no one can determine their connection to?”

“First off, I’m the EXOTIC blond stranger, excuse you. Get it right. And second...idk. Either. Both. Does it really matter?”

“Well, it might if you actually do tweet the same content from both accounts and someone somehow manages to spot some kind of connection,” Tim says dryly. Steph scowls without looking up from her phone.

“Stop oppressing my shenanigans with your logic, Timbleton.”

“Timbleton?”

“It’s my new name for you. For it is both pretentious and douchey, as are you.”

Tim glowers. “Sometimes I honestly can’t remember why I went out with you.”

She shrugs. “You were a fifteen year old virgin and I have a killer rack. It wasn’t that deep.”

“Hey, you are still just the exotic blond stranger seen with us all the time, right?” Dick says suddenly, seemingly lost in thought. “Like, B didn’t adopt you since I last saw you or anything.”

“No, and you know you don’t ACTUALLY have to ask me that every time you see me.”

He shrugs. “I mean I kinda do. You are always here, and it is Bruce. It’s not like he ever tells me when he adopts someone new so like, you could be my sister for four years before I even realized it if I didn’t ask.”

“Ooh. A sighting of Dick angst, spotted in the wild. Those are rare,” Jason snickers. Dick just eyes him.

“FYI, I still have footage of a certain Robin, age fourteen, singing Backstreet Boys. And I have Roy on speed dial. Tread lightly, Little Wing.”

“You said you deleted that!”

“I lied. I do that sometimes. I’m terribly problematic.” Dick beams beatifically.

“Why have I not seen this footage?” Steph shrieks.

“Make me an offer,” Dick says as leans back smugly.

She wastes no time, fingers dancing across her keyboard again, and moments later Dick pulls out his own phone and reads her incoming text. One eyebrow arches significantly.

“That’s an offer, alright.” He frowns. “You came up with that quick. I’m either impressed or disturbed.”

Steph shrugs. “I get bored on stakeouts sometimes.”

“You can be dispressed,” Cass pipes up helpfully. Dick nods solemnly.

“An excellent suggestion, Cassandra, thank you. Just for that, I’ll send it to you too.”

“I will stab you,” Jason says dangerously.

“Just think, Jay, if you didn’t try and stab me all the time already, that might actually be incentive not to....oh whoops, finger slipped, just hit send, how terrible, much regret.”

“I feel like there’s supposed to be a life lesson in there somewhere,” Duke murmurs.

“Stay out of this, new kid on the block.”

“Does that make you Marky Mark or like, Donnie?” Tim wonders idly. He shakes his head at himself then, baffled. “Why do I know the names of the New Kids on the Block?”

Stephanie meanwhile is watching her phone with what can only be described as naked glee. It’s muted - she’s never one to share her spoils freely after all - but apparently that is more than good enough for now as far as she’s concerned. Beside her, Cass intently stares at her own screen, shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

“I will kill you all someday, and when I do the courts will rule it justifiable homicide and I shall be vindicated.”

“Please, Todd. As if I don’t have contingencies in place to ensure you receive my vengeance even from beyond the grave, should I ever perish at your hands.”

Silence falls across the table as they all stare at Damian.

“See, now I’m dispressed,” Tim says. “Sometimes I wonder what it’d be like to take a guided tour of your brain, but then I think why not wait til Halloween and sell tickets too.”

Damian glares at him, but to the surprise of everyone, Tim included, he reacts no further than that. A few seconds later though, Duke bolts upright in his chair across from him, directing his own baleful glare at the smaller boy. Damian just stares at him meaningfully and jerks his head in Tim’s direction. Duke rolls his eyes and sighs.

“Shut your facehole, Drake, you blithering dolt,” Duke says robotically. “Also, you are excessively diminutive for your age and nobody likes you. Allegedly.”

Once more silence reigns supreme.

“Oh fuck, can he possess people now?” Jason asks.

Dick waves them all down, gesturing for quiet before he takes the lead, studying Duke with an intent focus. “I think I speak for all of us here, when I say: no, but seriously, what the actual fuck.”

Cass nods gravely. “What he said.”

Duke shrugs a half-hearted apology. “It’s nothing personal Tim. It’s just that Damian and I have an alliance, and part of the terms are I have to defend his honor, since - and I quote - ‘tt, the very notion I need assistance defending my actual person is laughable, Thomas, don’t be daft.’”

“Wait, we’re doing alliances now?” Steph asks, because of course that would be the part that catches her attention. “I want an alliance. Cass, make an alliance with me.”

“Kay.”

“Whose idea was this alliance, anyway?” Jason asks. Duke just shrugs again, this time defensively.

“Hey don’t look at me, Dick’s the one who apparently thought it was a good idea to introduce Damian to Survivor reruns.”

All eyes turn to the eldest. In a particularly accusatory fashion.

Well, with the exception of Damian, as he has returned to his meal and is quite contentedly dining with a distinct air of smugness about him. (Even more so than usual.)

“What? I couldn’t get him to agree to watching anything else on TV, and then we came across some reruns and I thought it might appeal to him.”

“And you saw no potential drawbacks to him seeing appeal in the basic premise of voting people off the island?” Jason asks skeptically. Dick picks up a fry and studies it with clear deliberation and an equally clear attempt at avoidance. Subtlety, thy name is not Grayson.

“In hindsight, it’s possible mistakes were made.”

“I mean, at least now Dami’s attempts at casting undesirables out of the family are rooted in democracy instead of totalitarianism. That’s progress, right?” Steph asks. Heavy on the uncertainty.

“Right, and I have some beachfront property in Kansas to sell you,” Tim says sardonically.

“Nah, you keep it. I’ll just get it in the divorce when we get back together in ten years, marry, and I abscond with half of your fortune.”

“Wait, what?”

“Shh, just let it happen.”

“Hang on, back to this alliance,” Jason says, turning back to Duke. “So what are you getting out of it?”

“Oh, he has to do my calc homework for the rest of the semester,” Duke replies.

“Duke, you should have just told one of us you needed some help with your homework,” Dick says with an unmistakable note of concern in his voice. Duke shoots him a quizzical look.

“I don’t. I just don’t want to do it.”

“This is why Duke is the most valid,” Steph nods knowingly. Cass nods in agreement.

“Hey, did nobody else notice that in essence, Damian implicitly admitted he needed help protecting his feelings from getting boo-boos,” Tim pipes up oh so casually. The youngest among them narrows his eyes.

“In my spare time, I peruse the occult tomes recommended by Raven and the Zatara brat in search of a ritual that will make it so you never existed in the first place,” he says, matching his tone to Tim’s conversational one. Not deterred in the slightest, Tim just adopts an expression of over the top faux sympathy.

“Sucks you can’t just ask me for help. I already know where one of those is.”

“Dami, no!” Dick speaks up sharply. Their little brother slumps back in his seat and crosses his arms over his chest.

“I wasn’t actually going to do anything, Grayson,” he sulks. Dick snorts.

“You were absolutely about to jump on top of the table and kick Tim in the face. Don’t even try and pretend I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“I was an only child once,” Jason muses. “I should have appreciated it more.”

“But then you couldn’t form an alliance with me, little brother,” Cass points out, equal parts sweetness and wickedness. He hesitates, visibly torn between wanting to protect his vaunted older brother status and agreeing to an alliance with the most feared of them all.

“You’re evil.”

She shrugs but doesn’t contest the point.

“I’ll form an alliance with you, Cass,” Tim says, smirking at Jason.

“No thanks.”

Tim’s mouth falls open and he looks between her and his now cackling older brother. “What the hell? You’ll form an alliance with Steph and Jason but not with me? Why not?”

“I’m chaotic neutral,” their sister explains sunnily, as she steals some more of Dick’s fries.

#look they all actually so love each other okay #this is just how siblings are #just like #with less actual murder attempts

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danteaarons · 4 years

Photo

And Then, Suddenly... | Self Para

Tagged: Dante & Angela Aarons Time Frame: Late night; April 27, 2012 Location: En route from Downtown Portland to their apartment; Portland, OR Notes: Trigger warnings for a car crash, talk of death, and blood

"Are you going to decide how we're celebrating your graduation?"

A smile came to Angela's lips as she gave a harmless roll of her eyes, "Yeah I am. But when? That's still TBD."

Dante shook his head as he shifted gears and pulled away from the curbside parking spot, heading for his and his wife's apartment. "You can be the most indecisive person on the planet sometimes. I don't even know how you ever settled on a nursing career," he teased, earning a an audible smack on his shoulder. He grinned and chuckled as Angela muttered, "Ass," under her breath.

When they reached a stoplight, Dante looked to her while reaching across the center console to take her hand and bring it to his lips. "Well, whatever you wanna do, we'll make it happen."

"Whatever I wanna do?" she echoed, her smile turning devious, "So if I want to do a cross-country road trip?"

"I'll ask Ma to grab our mail for us while we're gone."

Angela shrugged her eyebrows, "Ooo. Okay. And if I wanted to have a big-ass party? Something themed where we all have to dress up in costumes--and I don’t mean super simple costumes like you pull off for Halloween but all out, fully committing costumes… you’d do that?"

Dante sucked on his teeth while glancing out of the driver's window and away from his wife, whose laughter was now filling the car. He looked at her, "Yeahh you're laughing because you know if I agreed without getting more details, you'd pick some kinda theme where I'd have to dress up like an idiot."

The light changed and Angela continued to laugh, "No I wouldn't!"

When her bluff was called by Dante saying, "Say it with a straight face," Angela tried and failed to wipe all the amusement from her features

"Yeah, that's what I thought," he playfully grumbled. Still holding her hand, however, he gave it a tender squeeze and said, "But really. Whatever you want. Getting your Masters and being that much closer to being a Nurse Practitioner… This is a big deal and I'm proud as hell for you. You've worked hard for this, so you deserve to be celebrated. And if that means I’d have to dress up like a clown… well… then I’d suck it up for one day."

Angela's smile warmed as she squeezed her husband's hand back. "I love you, babe. And honestly, I'd be happy with a backyard barbecue at Dad and Ma's. Just us, a few friends and Hannah and her family, if she's up for making the trip. Traveling with a toddler and a newborn would be a lot."

Dante stopped at another red light. "Yeah I think it would be. Sounds like a nice way to celebrate. But are you sure that's what you want? You don't wanna go anywhere or anything like that?"

He saw Angela rest her head back while gazing at him. And when he met her loving eyes, she told him, "I'm sure. You're right about celebrating. I mean this is… huge for me, and for us. But I want to keep it somewhat lowkey. You still want to open your shop by the end of the year, and I'm gonna be paying my student loans back until I'm retired." She chuckled a little but her expression soon turned radiant. "And we've been talking about trying to start a family more and more, so…" Seeing her face light up at her last reason brought a smile to Dante's face. He listened to her finish, "...I'd rather we saved so our money can go towards those things than blowing it on a huge trip or a big party."

They held each other's gazes until the light turned green, at which point Dante looked out of the windshield and moved his foot off of the brake pedal. He nodded once and squeezed her hand, "Okay. I'll call Ma tomorrow and let her know."

and then, suddenly…

Somehow, everything that soon followed happened rapidly and in slow motion at the same time. Angela dove into listing foods she wanted at the barbecue but only managed to utter two items before another car sped into the wide intersection. Dante had barely gained any acceleration when a speeding car collided with the passenger's side of Angela’s sedan.The sound was unlike anything Dante had ever heard in his life. But what he’d heard was short-lasting. Through the metal crunching, glass shattering, tires squealing, and bodies being thrown about by airbags deploying and the sheer force of the crash, Dante’s world went black and mute.

and then, suddenly…

For brief seconds at a time, his mind bobbed above and beneath the surface of consciousness. His ears rang to a degree that drowned out sounds of wailing sirens and urgent, distant voices. His head throbbed worse than any hangover, than any migraine he’d ever had. When his eyes flew open, he tried lifting his head but it felt like a bowling ball--hollow and heavy. His movements were eventually restricted by a neck brace and his vision was taking its time to come into view. When he tried to say something, he couldn’t understand why he couldn’t be heard, despite no sound accompanying his sloppy lip movement. His body shivered from the exposure to night air. Where had the growing warmth inside the car gone? He cringed from trying to force himself to remember, winced from a sharp pain near his temples, and ultimately forced his eyes shut again at a beam of light swishing back and forth in front of his face. And soon, he succumbed to unconsciousness again.

and then, suddenly...

As consciousness returned to him, Dante lifted his heavy eyelids, all the while processing being awake. His ears picked up pulsing beeps and his gradually sharpening vision was telling him he was inside of the hospital. His mind was split between a groggy and weighty urge to sleep and an acute awareness that he and Angela had been in an accident.

and then, suddenly...

Dante made to sit up, all too quickly as the blood rushed, hollowing out his head and dizzying his mind. He meant to shake it off but it only made the age worse. He soon felt a hand on his shoulder, firmly but slowly urging him back.

“Lie back, son.”

The steady machine beeps had picked up with Dante’s rising panic, looking to his right where his dad had risen from a chair. “Dad… Angela-- ...where’s Ange at? There was an accident. We were going home. Is she okay? Where is she, Dad?” His speech was labored by the relentless aching throughout his body--particularly concentrated across his torso and face. His chest burned from the airbag and bruised ribs, and his face had already been stitched and bandaged up from the bloodied and bruised mess it faced. He didn’t yet know the extent of his injuries but all of them combined paled in comparison to what he was insisting on knowing. He continued to ask despite the strained calm on his dad’s face.

Looking past the elder Aarons man, Dante could see a part of his mother’s face in the narrow window on the door. She was speaking to someone--a doctor, he assumed--nodding and sobbing. Dante’s gaze cut back to his father and his voice cracked, “Dad… wh-...where’s Ange at?”

Noah Aarons grimaced and sighed, “Son… Dante, she’s… there was a drunk driver. Ran the light and hit you guys pretty hard. They… they say it’s a miracle you survive with the injuries you’ve got.” He paused, struggling to look his son in the eye. “Dante, Angela… she… she didn’t make it, son. I’m sorry. They tried at the site of the accident, but--”

Dante’s heart rate climbed even more. His gaze went entirely out of focus and his head continued to throb. “What...what’d you say?”

Noah squeezed his shoulder, “She’s gone, son. I’m so sorry. I… there’s nothing they could do.”

Very slowly, Dante was shaking his head; he wasn’t even aware that his head was moving with how slight the turns were. “But...she was right there. W-we… we were right there… Dad, where is she?”

Noah hung his head while taking hold of his son’s hand, “Dante, listen to me.” He made sure his son was looking back at him as he repeated in a slow but genuinely sorrowful voice, “Angela’s gone, son. She’s not… she’s not coming back, son. They couldn’t save her.”

Dante was not a crier. He had very, very few reasons in his life to do so. At most, he teared up a little when Angela walked down the aisle at their wedding. But he just wasn’t one for shedding tears, or sobbing hard over anything.

and then, suddenly…

Dante’s eyes were glossy. His head continued its tiny shakes as he resisted the loss sinking into his brain. He was drifting outside of himself, growing more and more distant with the broken man lying in a hospital bed. The sound of polite knocks, followed by his red-eyed mother and a doctor he didn’t recognize entering the room all were so far away. He didn’t see his mother rush to his bedside in a burst of fresh tears, didn’t hear the doctor list of his sustained injuries. He was somewhere else entirely at the parade of people who had come through--detectives, an attorney, nurses, a medical examiner… Even as his parents attempted to receive the majority of the people who had come in and out of the room, Dante absentmindedly wondered if this was what paralysis was like. Or shock. He didn’t know. It was such a spec of a thought and yet he clung to it--anything to keep fighting off the words that his father reiterated to him. His wife was dead. She was gone. A drunk driver took his wife away. With the theft of her physical presence, her warm smile, her bright eyes, her whip-cracking wit, her determination and dedication, her brilliance… everything that made Angela who she was--the person she was, the best friend and wife. The best friend. Gone.

His mind jumped ahead. Was he supposed to go home to the apartment once e was discharged? Did he have to go down to identify her body? Was he supposed to plan her funeral? To bury his wife? How was he supposed to say ‘goodbye’ to his best friend? What about her education? She was mere weeks away from being finished, from graduating.They were just talking about the plan to celebrate. They were planning more of their future together. He had just signed the paperwork for a location for his custom woodwork shop. They were going to start a family. They were supposed to have a life. Together. They were going to grow old together. And what about all of the people she was going to help--the people she wanted to help?

“Dante? Dante, honey…”

Dante barely acknowledged his mom’s gentle, nasal. He glanced at her for only two seconds before fixing his eyes elsewhere. The look on her face was only making all of this that much more real. His mother was another bright spirit in his life. And while she was still here, the sight of her so puffy-eyed, morose, and struggling to be strong for him was more than he could bear. He didn’t know what she was trying to tell him. Someone had surely shoved his entire body into the depths of the iciest waters. He wanted to breathe. And yet he also wanted to embrace this new, unforgiving surrounding he was being held under.

Only time would tell which would win out.

#mtask #And Then Suddenly para

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bbrandy2002 · 5 years

Text

The Fall of Cordonia

Chapter Four

Trigger Warnings: Profanity, Gun Violence, Death, Sexual Content.

A/N: This came to my attention a few days ago. This series is not a spoiler for what happens in the real TRH book. I would demand every diamond I ever spent back if that happened 😬

I will also be in hiding from a certain fic writer who shall remain nameless, after this. I can explain 🤷

"Leeeooooo!!", Riley screamed as a struggle between life and death ensued over her shattered and torn body. Like a thief in the night, death entered that room with a sickening crack of the neck, taking its prisoner with him back to the fiery pits of hell.

Bradshaw slumped his lifeless body across the queen, momentum dropping him to the floor below, his miserable soul quickly extinquished. At the same time, Leo's bright blue eyes lost their color as he instinctly glanced over to look at his younger brother one last time. There were no words, just the unspoken, I love you's, between them. This was the one final bonding moment between Leo and Liam, before he fell back onto the bed.

Riley watched with horror as he stared blankly at her, jerking momentarily as his breath was literally sucked from his lungs.

Bastien was holding Liam up, literally and emotionally as he watched his older brother slip from his life.

He lowered a stunned Liam into his plush, leather desk chair; still reeling from the events that just occured in front of him.

Liam stood in disbelief from the watch tower, overlooking the empty square below, a heavy feeling pooled in his stomach. He didn't dare look at his brother for fear he would do or say something he'd regret.

"Come on little brother, say something"

"What do you want me to say Leo? Thank you for running away from your duties? Thank you for leaving me to pick up after the mess you are inevitably creating? No, wait...how about this...thank you for being so fucking selfish to ask me to give up my future so you can escape from your responsibilties and place the burden on me.....yes, Leo...how can I truly ever thank you? Is that what you want me to say?

"It's not like that and you know it....Liam, man...I'm not cut out for this shit, never have been".

"You"ve never even tried....the only two things you've ever cared about besides yourself is booze and pussy".

"Thats bullshit"

"You're right.....this whole thing is nothing but a big pile of bullshit and you're too coward to admit you have fucked me over."

"Liam...whatever you think of me, it doesn't change the fact that I"m not cut out for this life....but you.....you are.....you"ve always been"

Liam shakes his head furiously, his mood becoming more somber, "Then why do I feel like you just sucker punched me in the gut?"

Leo places a hand on Liam's shoulder, contemplating his words and actions carefully, "Because its a huge burden I've unloaded on you and I know that.....but shit, I've never doubted for a second, you're the man this country needs. Just say you'll do this".

With the weight of the world on his broad shoulders and trepidation in his voice, "I don't have a choice do I? If not me, then who?"

Leo hesitantly pulled his brother to him, wrapping his arms around him, clapping his back, "I hope one day... I can make you as proud of me, as you have always made me".

"I doubt that Leo".

Liam sank deep into his chair, loudly exhaling what little air he had been holding inside. He allowed the trickle of tears to flow as he thought about his brothers' sacrifice.....Riley is Liam's everything, Leo ultimately died to protect him.

He wiped away the moisture from his face and cleared the lump in his throat. There was no time to mourn; his wife was still trapped in that room of Bradshaw's palace and it was anyone's guess how she would get out.

"Sweetheart, I'm sending help. We have a rescue team in place with our allies and Bastien just informed me they will be there soon. Can you make sure the door is locked?"

The sound of his calming voice was the first time in 24 hours she felt something other than fear. With her attempt to sit up, she groaned loudly at the stabbing pain in her chest, she was positive her ribs were broken. "I can't", was all she could utter.

Riley nodded at Liam as he continued to reassure her everything was going to be okay, vowing to get her home to him. Everything that had happened played like a whirlwind in her mind. As silence took over the room, she heard the distinct sound of her baby crying and it caught her ear.

"Nikolas?"

Riley sat rocking a sleepy Nikolas in the nursery at Valtoria, fighting his sleep with excessive determination. Even through his very vocal, little tantrum, she couldn't help but chuckle as she noticed he looked exactly like Liam when he's angry. That furrowed brow with the crease between his eyes, the way his face reddened and his nose scrunched up.

"My little prince, I love you sweet boy, but, that kind of cry only works on your father".

As Nikolas' lips started to quiver and with his voice turning hoarse, she, too, gave into him.

Riley lifted her 3 month old son to her shoulder, rubbing circles over his tiny back, basking in his sweet baby smell. She hummed a lullaby her late mother sang, amazed it still clung to her memories since she was so young when she passed.

Nikolas lifted his tired head briefly and she soothed him back to her. His cries softened and he became heavier in her arms.

She could never thank Liam enough for this life he made just for her. The titles, the estate, the fancy balls, the lavish lifestyle was nothing, but, this little boy and Liam's love was all she needed or wanted.

The blast of distant gunshots ripped her back to reality. She didn't flinch; feelings, fear, emotions, shock, there was nothing, as numbness took over.

The noise became louder and closer, yet, Riley remained in her position. She waited patiently, expecting the door to burst open any moment.

"Riley? What's going on?", Liam questioned frantically.

Riley didn't hear him, she sunk deep into a world of her own; one without pain, tears or bloodshed. A smile swept across her face as Liam begged her to speak back to him.

"Baby, look at me.....what's happening....please Riley, say something!".

She remained still, closing her eyes, humming Nikolas' lullaby to herself. She could see Liam in her mind, waiting on his table when she turned around and laid eyes on him for the first time. When she told him he was going to be a father and he cried in her arms. The first time he held his son and nothing else mattered in the world.

"Riley, my love.....I need you to speak to me".

The door knob began to twist erratically as sounds of chaos and struggle carried on outside; shouts and blasts ringing in unisom.

"Riley?", Liam cocked his head watching his wife struggle with her mind; she was so calm and placid. He watched as the lights flickered and then shut off into complete darkness. The video feed lost its connection.

Riley didn't hear the door break down, she didn't see the flashlights shine on her face, nor, hear the heavy boots approach her, she was gone.

Strong hands gently shook her, then cautiously lifted her up from the bed, stepping over Bradshaw to carry her out of the room.

She steadily passed through the halls and corridors of the palace, surrounded by dozens of uniformed men and women.

"Maxwell? Is this heaven?"

"Rise and shine little blossom, you have a big day ahead".

"Max, I just want to lay here a little longer"

"I know that, but, when have I ever left you alone?"

Riley snickers, "true.....so you came to get me?"

"Not exactly....let's just say I'm here to watch over you. The good thing about where I am now is you can never get rid of me".

"Maxwell, will I ever see you again?

"Of course, but, not for a very long time....Riley, you have so many people counting on you right now. You have to go back and kick some ass. What's coming is so much bigger than Liam".

"There's more coming? ...Maxwell I can't do this".

"Sure you can".

"I love you Maxwell"

"I love you too Blossom"

Four days later....

Liam gathered the last of his documents and strolled from his office with fire in his eyes. Taking long strides, his black leather oxfords the only sound made as he walked alone down the long corridor.

He hung his head as he paused momentarily at the door of his quarters, his queen still recovering inside. Liam touched the door, in some way hoping to gather the strength the woman behind it may pass on to him. Her screams of terror still waking her every so often. I promise love, I'm going to make this better for you, for Nikolas...for Cordonia.

Bastien met him at the top of the staircase; the head guard taking in Liam's appearance. He was dressed in the finest suit he owned, wearing the emerald cufflinks with the Cordonian seal, Riley gave him in Shanghai and his hair perfectly smoothed back.

He was nervous, as much as his father prepared him for the threat of enemies, Constantine had never faced anything like this. There was no one to turn to, he shouldered this responsibilty himself, not only as a King, but, as a father. He would be damned if he gave up now, remembering Leo's words to him, you're the man this country needs.

He took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, "I'm ready", he said confidently.

The palace was quiet, the destruction was apparent all around, the lights burning dimly and the eery presence of lives lost all around him.

He stepped into the throne room, attendees and press immediatly standing to their feet, no one uttering a word. He looked every bit the leader Cordonia needed right now, while inside feeling every bit a failure as a father and husband.

He took his place at the podium, there was no usual applause, no chatter, only sniffles and eager ears longing for reassurance from their monarch. Liam stood silent for the longest time, his people understanding of it, as he looked around the room, taking in each face.

What was left of the council gathered in the front row, his eyes following in a line of each member and those who left nothing but chairs behind. Bertrand who couldn't contain his tears as a rose sat in the seat next to him where Maxwell typically sat. Drake, his arm in a cast, head bandaged, with the most defeated look Liam had ever seen him wear. The empty seat of Olivia next to him, with a scarlett ribbon, a shell shocked Kiara, Emmaline sitting in place of Landon, a distraught Adelaide, a subdued Neville, Hakim, and the rest of the row void of its normal holders.

He brought a fist to his mouth, attempting to catch himself from allowing the emotions to overtake him.

He lowered his fist and rested it on the podium, clearing his throat, in preparation to address the council and nation.

"My fellow Cordonians and esteemed members of the council....Four days ago, tragedy struck our country and has affected each of us in ways no one could ever have envisioned. My heart and mind is with each one of you, even as I, too have suffered great personal loss. While I don't have all of the answers, I do know this....your monarch will not sit idly by and give in to the demands of those behind these attacks. King Bradshaw was just one element of this, it was discovered the recently deceased Princess of Monaco was also involved in harboring the Prince....my son, who has yet to be discovered. In the grand scheme of thing, those two were just pawns for another leader.

That is why, today, I am declaring war against Monterisso. Queen Amalas.....I know you are watching right now, so hear me when I say this.....I'm coming for you. There will be no place safe for you to hide.... and I daresay, I will win. This goes for anyone else involved in assisting her.

Our allies have remained in contact and have worked tirelessly to help save our kingdom. We are down right now, but, we have faced enemies before and have come through victorius...I have no reason to believe this time will be any different.

Now if you will join me in a moment of silence for those who we have lost".

Liam thanked the crowd, declining questions and eased his way into the front row, standing before Bertrand. He embraced him, knowing his attempts at comfort were in vain and there was really nothing he could say. He knelt down before Maxwell's empty chair, biting his lip, all the training in the world unable to hold back his emotions. Drake sidled beside him, kneeling down with his uninjured arm around Liam's back. The Three Musketeers, down to two.

He stood, and held Drake for what seemed like an eternity. Liam moved forward, picking up the scarlett ribbon from the next chair, clasping it in his hands, his jaw tensing as he dropped the ribbon back to it's place.

When he was finished, he left the room and headed back to his quarters alone. He loosed his tie as he made his way up the steps and to his bedroom. He stopped at the door as Riley turned to him, dismissing her nurse before shutting the door behind him.

"Is it done?", Riley questioned, holding Nikolas' stuffed bear in her arms.

Liam nodded, "It is".

He threw his tie on the bed and poured a finger of scotch, downing it all at once. He faced his wife once more, "We'll either win this my love.....or lose everything trying".

Monterisso

Amalas allowed the thin, dainty fingers of her companion to slip under her skirt, groaning with pleasure as two fingers swept between her wet folds.

The two women were enticed by the words coming out of Cordonia, laughing with one another over the supposed threat. Liam has never been alone, Amalas has known his every move and gesture for well over a year. Even now, she is still one step ahead of him.

She lays back on the sofa with her legs wrapped around the neck of the woman who has caught her affections. She swallows hard then moans loudly as the skilled tongue laps up her juices and slides into her dripping entrance . Pleasure begins to ripple through her body and she arches her back as a thumb rubs circles over her clit. She cries out, feeling her lower abdomen tighten, her core pulsing until she is met with her release.

Both woman fall back onto the sofa, breathing heavily, clutching one another.

"I do believe this day continues to get better", Amalas said while clutching the red hair of her companion.

"Shall we celebrate our victory further?"

"Olivia, I think I have something else in mind", Amalas replies as she reaches under the sofa, eager to unleash her next plan. "You should know, I do enjoy doing things on my own".

#the royal heir #liam x riley #the royal romance #dark #king liam #trr liam x mc #trr liam #trh liam

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logansanderslove · 5 years

Text

Logan 3.0 (5/?)

CO-AUTHOR: @demented-dukey

Summary: Remus is an incorrigible flirt, and Logan can only bear the innuendo for so long until something has to give. Passions erupt, but there are more lasting repercussions than either could have predicted, including a significant transformation to Logan himself! How will these new changes affect the delicate balance of Thomas’s mental state? When a new dark side threatens the lives of several of the other sides, will Logan and Remus’s love be strong enough to save everyone, including Thomas?

Ships: INTRULOGICAL

Sanders Sides: Logan, Remus, Thomas, Roman, Virgil, Patton, Deceit

Fic type: Drama, Romantic, Action, Flirty

Trigger Warnings: No character deaths, but a lot of very close calls. Consensual knife play and bloodplay, and lots of bloody fighting and monster attacks. If you’re sensitive to unsympathetic characters, some parts flirt pretty close to that, but there’s also a lot of extenuating circumstances to explain the situation, and there’s a happy ending once you get through the angst and misunderstandings. Self-harm and references to such, and suicidal tendencies.

MASTERLIST

IMPORTANT: This chapter is a smut chapter, there is consensual knifeplay/bloodplay and very intense description.

Chapter 5: An Intimate Evening (18+)

When Logan rose up in his room hours later, he took a deep breath. Seeing what he had done to Thomas had made him feel unbelievably guilty. Not to mention the immense shock from both Deceit and Thomas upon seeing him.

So when he was finally able to collapse on his bed, he smiled. Then he remembered something and a smirk crept onto his face. Standing up, he sunk out quickly.

Remus was laying in his bed throwing a ninja star up at the ceiling and letting it fall back down only for him to throw it back, then a knock on the door made his head turn, and he yeeted the star back into the opposite wall next to the many dents where he had done so before.

Raising his eyebrows, he was curious. How was he even able to hear the knock? That shouldn't happen.

He walked over and opened the door with a frown, then it immediately disappeared as he saw Logan standing in the doorway, a grin on his face.

"I promised we'd get naughty, Re. And I keep my promises."

"Praise Jesus," Remus breathed and reached for the hem of his shirt.

"Stop," Logan said, his voice reverberating a bit, and Remus froze. "Did I say you were allowed to disrobe yet?"

Remus shook his head, afraid to say anything lest it come out as a moan.

Logan pushed Remus back into his room and closed the door behind him, locking it. He spun back to his boyfriend, licking his lips. "No, we get to undress each other, love."

He pulled Remus close and ripped his shirt over his head, stroking his face instantly. He rubbed his hand down his chest, meeting Remus' eyes. "So beautiful..."

Remus blushed, still unused to the praise. "That's why you're the smart one. You have the best ideas."

He reached up, tugging the black tie loose from its knot. Wrapping each end of the tie in his fists, he pulled on the tie like a yolk, dragging Logan into a messy, biting kiss.

Logan's arms held Remus tight, rubbing his back and tracing every line of his body. He leaned forward to nibble on Remus' ear.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Strip me down, love." He purred.

Remus whined. He was so excited his hands were shaking as they pulled Logan's shirt off, his mouth drooling as it ached to lick and bite every inch of flesh that was revealed. Remus fumbled with Logan's belt buckle, finally managing to get it undone after what felt like an eternity of frustration. Remus dropped to his knees, pulling Logan's jeans and underwear down at the same time and steadfastly ignoring the part of Logan's body that was calling him like a siren's song. Remus focused on Logan's Vans, carefully undoing the laces and helping Logan step out of his clothes. Once Logan was free of his pesky accouterments, Remus finally let himself look up, determined to explore the advantages of his kneeling position, and started by enjoying the view.

Logan smirked. "Are you waiting for my permission or something, Re? I'm yours tonight."

Logan was magnificent; all lean muscle and pale skin, and the beauty of him made Remus want to cry. He could have looked upon Logan with awestruck worship for hours... years... centuries... but Logan's words brought him back to himself. His tonight? Remus bit his lip - his Creativity was running rampant, his mind flooding with ideas almost too fast to process. "...safeword?" he strangled out, fighting against the urge to just take. He didn't think he'd do anything Logan wouldn't like, especially their first time together, but Remus had trouble with self-restraint and often went too far in other parts of his life, and this was too important to fuck up with his own eagerness.

Logan ran his fingers through Remus' hair, snickering. "Who needs safe words? I know you'll stop if you feel you need to. But why would I ever want that?" He leaned down a bit. "Now..." he put his hand on the back of Remus' head and pushed him forward. "Let's get started."

Never in Remus's wildest dreams did he think anyone would ever love him this much, trust him this completely, challenge him to rise to the occasion (in every dirty sense of the word). Remus was dizzy with arousal, and he shuddered, letting go of his last vestiges of control. Inky green tentacles burst from his back, spilling out around them and seeking out his lover. Two wrapped around Lo's wrists, pinning them above Logan's head. Remus briefly mourned the loss of Logan's fingers gripping his head and made a mental note to make sure Logan had ample opportunity to force Remus to gag on his lovely cock later.

Two more tentacles wrapped around Logan's ankles, securing him in place. Another two drew up to chest-level and began to play with Logan's nipples, the soft suckers on the underside of the tentacles leaving trails of light-red marks across Logan's chest.

Letting his own palms skate up Logan's legs and caress his thighs, Remus finally let himself focus on his prize. Logan's cock, erect and weeping, stood out proudly from a nest of curls, and Remus fell even more in love. He kissed the tip, licking off the precome, and moaned at the taste. "So good," Remus said blissfully, "Gonna eat you up."

Logan smiled, glancing down at his boyfriend. "Please do."

He sighed in ecstasy as Remus forced himself onto his cock, sucking hard and with honest purpose. His tentacles held Logan fast, but not too tight that it was uncomfortable. He leaned his head back with a smile, biting his lip as Remus' hands rubbed his ass gently, then grabbed it seconds later.

The two tentacles that were tracing his nipples made Logan sigh; they were soft and gentle, but also held a sense of strength that could be unleashed at any moment. The suction on his chest from them tickled slightly, bringing a small snicker.

He grew harder, then he sucked in a deep breath as he looked down. He pulled at one of his wrists, asking to be let go, and Remus gladly released one hand, which traveled straight to his head, grabbing at Remus' hair and forcing him further.

"Love...you've done it..." Logan murmured, letting out a moan as he came.

Remus hummed around Logan's cock, throat stretched and swallowing his come. He blindly reached down, fumbling open his own pants and pulling out his dick - it was shaped like a smaller version of his other tentacles, although it was a reasonable size compared to all the human male penises he'd seen while surfing the internet. He was so turned on that his normally-prehensile penis was swollen and could barely move on its own. He ran a fist over the sensitive glans, sobbing around Logan's cock still buried deep in his throat, not wanting this exquisite pleasure to end.

Logan brushed Remus' hair, cooing to him sweetly. "Is that good, love? Was it enough for you?" He tilted his head down a little more as he put his finger under Remus' chin, bringing his boyfriend's eyes up to his.

"Should we continue on the bed? I'm about ready for some more."

Remus let Logan's cock slide out of his mouth with a 'pop', grinning up a Logan. "I could never have enough of you," he admitted, rising to his feet, tentadick still hard and aching but ignored again for the moment.

Remus's tentacles picked up Logan in a bridal carry and deposited him in the middle of the bed. Remus stumbled a little as he kicked off his boots and pants, using another tentacle against the floor for balance, before leaping onto the bed, quickly covering Logan's body with his own.

"Didja miss me?" Remus grinned, face inches away from Logan's.

Logan pulled him closer, meeting his eyes with a mischievous grin. "Of course."

He ran his tongue over the crease of Remus' lips, then pressed his own against Remus' violently, fingers tangling in his hair. Spit dripped from their mouths as they connected kiss after kiss, then Logan licked his lips.

"You're gorgeous, y'know that, Remus?"

"And don't you forget it," Remus teased back, "Gotta look good when I'm on your arm, make all the old farts at the faculty club jealous when they see what you get to come home to each night." Kissing his way down Logan's neck, he then latched onto his new-favorite spot on Lo's shoulder and sank his teeth in.

Logan leaned his head back, chewing his lip, then he reached down and took hold of Remus' dick. He gently began to jerk him off, a smile on his face as he extracted a large moan from his love.

"Does that feel good, Re?"

"Fuuuuck, yeah," Remus groaned, muffled into Logan's shoulder. "I love your-your hands, your fingers, god, you smell amazing, and your cock tasted so good, so big and heavy in my mouth, stretching me open..." His hips thrust eagerly into Logan's hand. "I'm...I'm close, Lo..."

Logan bit down on Remus' ear. "Don't hold back." He whispered.

Remus whimpered, chasing his climax. When he masturbated alone, he usually impaled himself on his own tentacles at both ends, and he didn't realize until this exact moment how comfortable he'd gotten with it and how hard it was to finish without some form of penetration. He was too close now, he couldn't focus enough to grab the lube from his bedside table or prepare himself, but maybe…

One of his tentacles looped behind Logan's neck, and dove into Remus's mouth, thrusting deep into his abused throat. The memory of Logan's cock in his mouth was so fresh, and paired with the stretch and burn of the tentacle forcing his jaw wide and his throat to relax, it was enough to push him over the edge. Remus shuddered in Logan's grip, his orgasm rushing through him and leaving him weak and boneless to collapse on top of his lover.

Logan smiled as he hugged Remus' limp body on top of him. "Well, you certainly have an interesting way of climaxing." He stroked Remus' cheek. "How about next time you let ME be your penetration, hmm?"

He then smirked. "Speaking of which..."

In a flash, he had somehow managed to roll on top of Remus without moving Remus from his face-down position. He sat up, kneeling over his boyfriend. He gently brushed his hands along Remus' back, smirking as all of the tentacles disappeared, leaving him with his pure boyfriend, just Remus. Logan leaned down to kiss the back of Remus' neck, running his tongue along the top vertebrae before his neck.

"Are you ready to be fucked, love?"

Remus arched into the touch, still reeling from his orgasm. "Yes, please fuck me," he babbled, trying to get on his hands and knees, but post-climax and without his tentacles to help he was gangly as a newborn foal and quickly collapsed back into the sheets. "Help," he whined pitifully and jiggled his ass in as enticing a manner as he could manage.

Logan chuckled. "God, you're adorable." He grabbed the tube of lube next to Remus' bed (he suspected it was there all the time) and gently worked some onto his fingers, then he smirked. "Open up..." He pushed his fingers into Remus' ass, spreading them apart and twisting them. As soon as he had gotten three fingers in up to the first knuckle, he began to pull them in and out, really making sure that his love would be nice and ready.

"Yesssss..." Remus hissed in pleasure, writhing on the bed and thrusting back onto Logan's fingers. He clutched the sheets in his fists, shamelessly wanton. "Give it to me. I can take it. Fuck me with your gloriously magnificent cock."

"Anything you want, love." Logan withdrew his fingers, then Remus felt the touch of Logan's cock against him. He bit his lip, then gasped as Logan thrust into him.

Logan held his boyfriend's waist, thrusting strongly and methodically, fucking Remus with the most perfect of forms. He leaned forward to chew on Remus' ear softly, nipping down on his neck.

"How's this, darling?" He asked seductively, sucking a dark red hickey onto his love's neck. "I can go all night, so no worries about me stopping anytime soon."

Remus whimpered, completely at the mercy of his boyfriend and loving every second of it. It was torture being taken from behind, unable to cling or bite or fondle anything, and the frustration stoked the fire of Remus’s pleasure. Remus was pinned to the bed by Logan’s cock like a butterfly on a corkboard, and that train of thought led to Logan being a science nerd and other “experiments” Logan might like to use Remus for in the future, and Remus began to cry in sheer euphoria at all the wonderful new possibilities opening up now that they were together. “Love… you…” he sobbed between thrusts, filled and overwhelmed by Logan’s cock, his presence, and his love.

Logan smiled. "Aw, love you, too." He leaned down, forcing himself further, then he snuck his hand around, fingers wrapping around Remus' dick, rubbing softly and fondling his balls as he still thrust with the same strength down into his love.

Dizzy with lust, Remus whined and mewled from one exquisite sensation to the other and back again. He reached blindly for Logan's free hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing and licking and chewing on those talented fingers, moaning his cries of passion into Logan's flesh.

Logan's lips twitched up in a smirk, taking his other hand from Remus' cock and stroking Remus' cheek, then twirling his hair, then he moved it down to hug Remus closer, pinching his nipple and twisting his fingers lightly. He whispered in Remus' ear, "Am I doing a good job, love? Do you want anything else?" He asked, licking Remus' ear before giving it another nibble, finding that such an action was what got the biggest reaction from his boyfriend. That, and sucking on his neck. But Logan just snacked on Remus' ear, awaiting the reply from the man he was inside.

It was nearly impossible to form words, but Remus’s mind was still spiraling out of control, dreaming up images of Logan with a dangerously sharp scalpel looming over him, or “experimenting” with other substances like wax or acid or electricity-play… most of the scenarios dancing in his head were complicated and would probably require more equipment than he currently had at his disposal, along with prior-discussion before implementing, but maybe he could nudge Logan in the right direction… “Bite me… mark me… make me yours.” Remus was already well on his way to being wrecked, but he wanted the physical reminders too, trails of bruises and lovebites and cuts pressed deep into his skin. He paid attention and knew about Logan’s love of Sherlock, and longed to tempt him like Moriarty - he wanted to be a fucking crime scene worthy of his attention.

"As you wish." Logan tilted Remus' head and ran his tongue along the skin before placing his teeth on Remus' neck and biting down, tasting blood at the force. He licked it away, smiling as he brought down another mark on Remus' shoulder that also drew the delicious crimson blood. Logan smirked as he grew hard, then he let out a hard breath and a groan as he climaxed, letting it all out inside Remus. His boyfriend moaned in exquisite pleasure as Logan pulled out, then he flipped Remus over, meeting his eyes. "Finally, I can gaze at your gorgeous face again. And now we can have some more fun." He grabbed Remus' wrists and held them above his head, pinning them to the bed. His lips slammed into Remus', their tongues old friends by now.

Through the kiss, Logan muttered, "I'll make you mine, love. Don't worry." His nails dug into Remus' wrists, then Logan lowered his head to gently bite Remus' nipple, licking around it as it grew hard. He snickered, lowering his head more to latch his teeth onto Remus' side, dragging his teeth along to create a long red scratch, then he sank his bite harder, drawing a small cry from Remus as Logan tasted more salty iron in his mouth. He pulled his mouth away after sucking a few dark red marks onto Remus' side, then he moved back up to meet the eyes of his boyfriend. "You want to be marked? I'll mark you." Taking one of his hands away from holding his love's wrists, he gently ran his fingers down Remus' other side, then he pressed his nails into the skin hard, dragging them down and ripping the skin that immediately turned wet with blood. Logan brought his hand back, running his blood-wet fingers down Remus' cheek, leaving two red lines.

"Do you want me to heal that for you so it doesn't bleed too much, or does it feel good?" He asked, then he returned to sucking more red marks onto Remus' neck, adding to the many he had already created. "What else do you want, love?"

“Feels...good… keep… let me…” Words. Remus could do words. He knew he was pretty good at words, but the damn fickle things were escaping him at the moment, slipping through his grasp. He didn’t want Logan to heal him, he wanted to keep every mark and wound, to treasure them in the in-between times until the next time when Logan would gift him with new ones.

What else did he want?? What else could he have??? Remus wanted Logan to cut him open, to tattoo Lo’s name across his heart and carve Lo’s name into his bones. He wanted a permanent limp, to always feel freshly-fucked and wrecked by his lover. He wanted to never wear clothes again and to walk among the Light Sides with every bruise and mark and wound proudly on display, showcasing how much he was loved and treasured. He wanted whatever Logan wanted, wanted to be good for his lover and satisfy him in ways no one else ever would or could.

Unable to put any of this into words at the moment, Remus just whined, tilting his neck under Logan’s mouth in the universal sign of submission, offering himself to his lover to be used as he wished.

Logan shrugged. "Okay then, my decision." He released Remus' wrist and moved down, dragging his nails across Remus' chest as he knelt at his groin, then his eye caught his boyfriend's before he lowered his head to suck on his balls, rubbing and massaging Remus' thighs as he sucked harder, drawing small whines from the Duke. Logan gently bit down, smiling as he extracted a cry from the man. Moving a bit, Logan kissed the tip of Remus' cock, gently running his fingers over it, licking up his shaft. Once he reached his balls again, he kissed each of them, then crawled back up to lay on top of his love.

"Okay, I'm going to ask you a few questions, and you can just nod yes or no, got it?"

Remus nodded, still unable to produce words.

Logan smirked, then leaned close. "I know you have a bunch of kinks. And I'm sure at least five of them include knives or weapons of some sort... So I'm going to ask, do you want that? For me to use a knife?"

Remus nodded frantically, his whining trailing into a higher, pleading lilt. In response to his emotions, one of the bedside drawers popped open, revealing a wide selection of sterile and sharp knives in a variety of sizes. Some blades were as simple and tiny as a scalpel, while others were curved like claws. Some blades were smooth and sleek, while others were as serrated and jagged as teeth. They all sat patiently, gleaming like stars on a bed of black velvet, ready and waiting to be used.

Logan cocked his eyebrow up. "You certainly do have a kink for this." He leaned down, brushing Remus' hair away from his eyes with a sweet but mischievous smile. "Now baby, I'm going to need you to use your words. What do you want first?"

Remus blinked hard, mind spinning. Too many possibilities, they were flashing through his mind like a strobe light. Logan was being so good to him, indulging in his kinks without hesitation, and Remus wanted to repay his kindness. His gaze caught on Logan's left ear, on the tiny star charms dangling from the black cuff. "Stars," Remus choked out. He shivered, imagining Logan using the knives to draw the night sky across his chest and back, a Milky Way stained in blood. "Your favorite... constellations... on me… please..."

Logan's eyes went wide, a smile growing across his face. "You want me to carve my stars onto you?" He said quietly, and Remus nodded excitedly. Logan smirked and reached for one of the smaller and more exact knives, holding it up and scraping his finger across it, testing its sharpness. "With pleasure, love." He put the knife to the skin on Remus' chest, then hesitated, but Remus' hand rubbing his cheek made him certain and he began to run the blade along his lover's skin, flinching at the blood at first, but after a few minutes he didn't even register it anymore. He smiled. "Scorpius. One of my favorite constellations, as well as my Zodiac sign." He said calmly as he dug the small scalpel into Remus' flesh, connecting dots with dots, painting a picture of his favorite night sky. Remus watched, entranced, as Logan's hand seemed to glide effortlessly with the knife, the constellations suddenly appearing, full and beautiful. He recognized one that Logan had sliced onto his side. Orion. The most well-known and possibly most beautiful constellation. However, it was even more beautiful when Remus considered it to be Logan's constellation. He sighed, closing his eyes as he felt the knife run over him, turning onto his side so that Logan was able to begin his art on Remus' back. For thirty more minutes Remus lay and let Logan scar him, then he finally heard Logan set the scalpel down, then rolled him over to lay on top of him, the blood that stained his hands sending Remus to euphoria, knowing that his love had given him exactly what he'd wanted.

"How was that, darling?" Logan asked. "Eight different constellations and I added a few stars scattered in between. Did it feel good?" He cooed, connecting the two in a kiss.

"Amazing. Astronomical," Remus moaned between kisses, trying to come up with more space-themed words for his nerd, "Stellar. Cosmic. Super...star?" he trailed off, giggling, then gasped, "Interplanetary megastellar hydrostatic!"

Remus hummed, the melody resurfacing easily. "Stargazing mega-fast, you hit me like a cosmic blast. You're giving me a technicolor world." Caressing Logan's face, Remus sang, "Putting me in overdrive, speed of light, I'm so alive. Could you be my Supernova Girl?"

Logan chuckled with a small shake of his head. "God, who would have ever thought that you'd be a nerd. I thought that was my job." He glanced down to examine his work, smiling. Tilting his head back up, he brought himself inches from his love's face. "I just adore you." He pulled Remus into another kiss, passionate and fierce, then a small murmur caught Remus' attention.

"Would you like to do the same to me?" The whisper was so sexual, so sweet, the words singing to the blade in question.

"Make my heart go boom boom," Remus gasped, excitement filling him with strength. "Yes, please." He flipped their positions, plucking the scalpel from where Logan had set it down. Technically, he could use a different knife, but the idea of mixing their blood on the same blade was too thrilling, and Remus couldn't resist.

Logan's chest was still littered with love marks from Remus's tentacles, but there was plenty of space for Remus to have some fun. He licked away a few streaks of his own blood from Logan's chest, preparing his canvas. Hesitating with the blade poised over the skin, his gaze flickered up to Logan's face. "Any requests?" he asked, the question doubling as a chance for Logan to reconsider one last time before he started.

Logan looked thoughtful for a moment, then his mouth twitched up in a grin. "Are you aware of what Dopamine is, and the chemical makeup of love?"

He sighed when Remus stared at him with a slightly confused expression, then Logan smirked. "Here, let me show you." He reached for his phone, typed for a moment, then spun it around to show Remus a picture.

"The chemical structure. I know it's detailed, but it's what I want. Is that alright with you?"

"Definitely." Remus released the breath he didn't realize he was holding. Logan really did want this, he wasn't just humoring Remus's weird and bloody kinks. Not only did he want Remus to cut him in return, but there was also a pattern Logan wanted, something Remus could see and easily implement to make Logan happy. "Your wish is my command."

Remus set Logan's phone on the bedside table, and with a flick of his fingers, the chemical pattern shimmered into life in the air, glowing a radioactive neon green. Pinching the air like a pane of glass, Remus stretched it into the size he wanted and flipped it down to lay across Logan's skin. His gaze flickered back up to Logan's, and receiving a nod of approval, Remus bit his tongue in concentration and began to cut.

It was easier than he'd thought it would be. Remus was skilled with his knives and had carved various patterns into his own body countless times, and it was much less distracting to use the knives on someone else. At least, pain-wise. Remus kept getting distracted by the blood seeping from Logan's wounds, and he would pause to lick and suck the blood away so he could see the glowing green pattern again. He sang softly while he engraved the symbols, "Visions of your pretty face send me into Hyperspace. Caught up in a planetary whirl. Breathing in, you give me air. I'm living off your solar flare. Could you be my Supernova Girl?" He hummed as he worked quickly but carefully, inscribing the neat lines and complex chemical symbols, and soon the pattern was complete and the green glow faded away.

Logan peered down at the professional standard scar on his chest, and he smiled before wrapping his arms around Remus and pulling him down into a kiss, holding him for as long as he could before he was required to release him in order to breathe. Both men lay panting, then Logan spoke up. "You're so perfect, love. This is perfect. I'm proud of you." He then leaned up to whisper in Remus' ear, "Now we've really marked each other, haven't we?" A small little snicker escaped Logan's lips. "We got a lot more naughty than I thought we would. But you know what?" Nibbling on the lobe of Remus' ear, Logan sighed. "I wouldn't have had tonight go any other way."

Remus kissed Logan and rested their foreheads together. "I love you more than words can wield the matter," he whispered. His own words were failing him, so he drew upon the master wordsmith to express his feelings, knowing that his love would recognize and appreciate Shakespeare. "Dearer than eyesight, space, and liberty. Beyond what can be valued, rich or rare; no less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honour. As much as child e’er lov’d, or father found; a love that makes breath poor, and speech unable. Beyond all manner of so much I love you."

Logan's eyes were wide, then he sighed with a happy smile. "God, the man I adore is quoting Shakespeare to tell me how much he loves me. Could you be any more PERFECT?!" He moaned, nuzzling against Remus' forehead. “Love, can we go to bed? I would just like to lie with you and fall asleep in your arms where I feel safest.”

Remus nodded and was about to grab the blankets when he paused. "Oh! Real quick, hold that thought..." He reached for Logan's phone - his own was buried in the heap of his clothes on the floor, and while he could have manifested a tentacle to grab it without leaving the bed, it was easier to just snag Logan's phone instead. It was still unlocked from when Logan showed him the chemical formula, and Remus navigated to the camera app and snapped a few quick closeups of each of their chests, before holding the camera at arm's length to include both himself and Logan in the shot. "Selfie!" Remus chirped, grinning happily, and then attached the image files on a text message sent to his own phone. "Okay, now I can sleep." Tossing the phone gently onto the nightstand, Remus pulled the blankets up over them and snuggled into Logan's arms.

"Y'know you're adorable when you're clingy." Logan said, then he leaned his head on top of Remus' as he reached over him to flick off the light. Bringing his hand back, he laced his fingers through Remus' hair, gently rubbing his boyfriend's head. "I love you," He whispered, kissing Remus' forehead before laying his own head back, pulling the Duke close and letting sleep finally overwhelm him.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #remus sanders #intrulogical #gay #love #smut

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goodproofingwater · 5 years

Text

On the job (Part two) - J Cody x Reader

Word count: 2339

Requested by: @baker151910

Warnings: graphic sexual content, dd/bg, choking, anger, talk of sleep sex and general roughness

You felt like you were holding your breath the entire journey home, and just when you thought the awkwardness could be alleviated by being around the whole family and maybe jumping in the pool, he advised you to turn off three roads before the house.

“J.. where..” you started, but his eyes told you not to question him, forced your eyes back to the road and you gripped the steering wheel hard as you followed his directions.

You assumed he was taking you to another property that the Cody’s owned, that he was going to punish you further for being such an inconvenience to him. Instead, you pulled into a storage facility.

“I’m gonna need you to put this on,” his voice had no hint of warmth as he pulled a tie from the glove compartment, slipping the fabric around your eyes and tying it hard around your head. What the fuck was happening? How had this day gone from you watching a robbery to being edged in the front seat of the truck to being blindfolded in a storage facility? At least you could never say that life with J was boring.

You heard him leave the space beside you and walk around the car, but it still made you jump when his hand met your own to pull you out of the vehicle. He was being tougher than normal, obviously still livid about the situation and you were beginning to get concerned about this all again. You had been sure that he wouldn’t use the gun on you but what if he had other plans? What if the gun was too loud, too traceable. The car too easily linked back to him?

Still you walked with him as he placed your hand on his shoulder and led you down cold corridors, feint outlines of fluorescent lights permeating through the fabric tied around your eyes. Then he stopped, and you heard metal on metal before the woosh of a sliding door being pushed up, even colder air pressing against your skin. Goosebumps formed as he led you inside the storage container, and you bit down on your lip, rubbing at your arms as you heard him pull the door behind you closed.

“J…” you spoke when he didn’t return to you, and you heard soft snips and rustles, the sound of something peeling back before his touch made you jump once more.

“I’m gonna show you something..” he whispered as he stood behind you, his breath washing over your neck as he pressed into your back. Slowly he began to place soft kisses along your neck and your eyes fell closed behind the blindfold, one of his hands moving to your hair as the other pulled your dress up once more.

“Mmokay..” you moaned, your fingers moving to caress the back of his head as his fingers slipped beneath your underwear. Your over stimulated clit was still throbbing from being left teetering over the edge only moments before, so when his fingertip grazed it you couldn’t help your ass grinding back into his crotch, revealing his true intent as his shaft hardened behind you.

“Or maybe I’ll just leave the blindfold on considering you love it so much..” you could hear the smirk in his voice as his teeth grazed along your neck, a finger slipping from your clit to press inside you and he let out a soft groan at your wetness. He hummed as he moved that finger to your mouth, watching as you wrapped your lips around it and cleaned obediently without question. “You’re a good girl really aren’t you, baby?” His voice was thick with lust as he spoke, and you nodded as you continued to suck on his finger like you would his shaft, “Yes Daddy…”

The pet name seemed to trigger something, and he bent down to pick you up fireman style before he maneuvered you through the cold room and lay you on something that felt unsteady. Before you could ask, or even feel to try and figure out what it was, his fingers were pulling your panties from your body and exposing your wet centre to the coldness of the room.

“Shit J it’s freezing..” you bit down on your lip, fists clenching as you tried not to touch whatever he had put you on for fear you would fall.

“Aw I’m sorry baby,” he spoke with mock concern, two fingers slipping inside of you with ease and you bit down on your lip, “perhaps a little… friction… will help warm you up..” his dark chuckle along with his fingers beginning to pump inside of you once more made your back arch. He knew just how to wind you up, knew just which spots to press inside of you to drive you crazy and the pads of his fingers now curled firmly against your g spot as he bought you closer and closer.

“Does that feel good baby?” He questioned, the sound of his buckle being undone causing your legs to spread wider in anticipation, and he took the opportunity to give a solid lick to your clit before he sucked it into his mouth, your back arching once more as you got closer and closer to the end, the knot inside of you that he had left aching to unravel.

“F-fuck Daddy I’m gonna—“ before you could even finish your sentence he was withdrawing, and you cursed yourself for even mentioning it although you were sure he was so familiar with your body that he could feel when you were about to cum.

“Fuck..” you hissed, hands searching for something to grip and finding only his own as he held them down against the strange material you were laying on.

“You didn’t think I was gonna let you cum that easy after you disobeyed me did you?” You chuckled, hands moving to push the top of your dress down to expose your breast, his tongue darting across it as you wished it would have done on your clit.

“You’re not gonna leave me like this are you, Daddy?” Your voice came out more pleading than you had hoped it would, and you heard a dark chuckle paired with the soft thunk of fabric hitting the floor.

“No baby… I think you might have been punished enough for today..” he leant down to kiss your clit once more before you felt him move closer to you, the feeling of the bare skin of this thighs between yours causing you shake and you bit down on your lip as you readied yourself for his shaft.

Instead his hands moved to your makeshift blindfold, and you sat up a little so he could untie the hard knot he had made. Before long you were blinking in the fluorescence, looking into his gorgeous blue eyes and admiring the flush that had washed over him as he had been teasing you. It was always a pleasure to see how worked up he got by touching you, and you knew just how much he loved edging.

“This is your treat for being so honest with me baby..” he glanced at what you were laying on and your eyes followed, you lips parting as you realised you were laying on a huge pile of money. You grabbed at one of the packs, $100 bills stacked together in packs of $5000 and there was too many of those packs to count.

“This is where I bring my cut… this is the money we’re gonna live off once we decide to get out of here.” He spoke, his eyes darting away as he discussed something he never had done before. The two of you had never spoken of a life outside of Oceanside, had talked about taking holidays and renting boats to fuck in the middle of the ocean, but leaving together… it almost made it sound like he wanted a serious future with you.

“If you fuck up a job by showing up and implicating me or anyone else, all of this goes away, you understand me? I’ll go to prison, they’ll find this storage facility somehow and this is all gone.” You gulped as you looked around, safes lines the walls and you could only imagine the treasures he had stored there. His hand moved to grip your face and force your eyes to his, his body moving closer to you and his shaft resting against your clit, “do you understand me?”

You nodded, biting the inside of your lip as he let you go and you sat up to kiss him softly.

“And this is my reward for being honest?” You spoke, your arms resting on his shoulders as he held your legs apart, his lips grazing along yours as one hand angled himself and he pressed inside of you. “Fuck..”

“Weren’t you the one who said it was hot when I did a job?” He spoke with a smirk as he began to move slowly in and out of you, his softness uncharacteristic but you knew this was the calm before the storm.

“Yes..” you whispered against his lips and a hand immediately moved to your neck

“Yes what?”

“Yes daddy..” he smirked at how quickly you corrected yourself, his shaft moving faster now as he held your neck.

“Well this is where it all comes baby… each time I rob a liquor store, a bank, hold up a boat..” you let out a moan at that one, the boat heist having been the one that had got you the most.

“Well someone likes a little risk huh?” He sped up again, his hand moving so his fingers and thumb were pressed along the correct artery, “you liked it best when I went on that boat and held all those people up?”

You nodded, moaning as his other hand joined its twin on your neck, the asphyxiation building in a way he knew you loved, you just hoped he would let you finish this time.

“Yes daddy… and when you came back in that wetsuit with the gun…” you moaned once more at the memory, the neoprene clinging to each muscle in his toned body, his strong hands gripping at the glock.

“Such a naughty girl.. like it when you can see the outline of my cock in the wetsuit huh?” He nipped softly at your bottom lip and you nodded.

“Y-Yeah and when you came back you fucked me straight from the shower do you remember? It was the middle of the night and you woke me up by slipping inside of me while you were still wet..”

He smirked at the memory too, balls clenching as he remembered kissing your back, angling himself so he could slip inside you and you had been so wet even though you had been asleep, as if your centre was waiting for his return.

“Fuck..” he groaned, shaking himself out of the trance as he began to move inside you faster, both hands gripping your neck as skin slapped on skin and you knew that you weren’t going to last long now.

“Daddy can I.. uhh… please can I have permission to touch myself..” you spoke between moans and he looked at you with dark eyes, gripping your neck harder although he nodded. As much as he wanted to have total control he also didn’t want to let up from this position, this ability to pull your entire body down onto his shaft.

Your fingers immediately moved to your clit as he nodded, and your legs began to shake as you could taste your end.

“Don’t you dare..” he hissed, and you looked up at him with pleading eyes, your free hand moving to grip the back of his head as you rested your forehead on his own.

“P-please Daddy...please I need to cum for you…” you moaned, and his lips parted in a groan at your words. He looked down at the space between you as he watched himself withdraw and push into you, his shaft already coated in your cum.

“If I let you cum you’re gonna promise never to show up at a job again, alright?” He spoke, anger and lust mixed together and you were struggling to hold on. You nodded almost desperately, your brow furrowing.

“Yes daddy I promise… please, please…” you begged, “I’ll wait for you to come home and fuck me like a good girl, I promise…”

His parted lips formed a smirk as he pressed harder on your neck, his grin widening as he watched your face contort through pleasure and pain and he had to commend you for holding out for so long.

“Okay baby..” he whispered, “you’re allowed..” but before you could thank him, he was pistoning even harder inside of you, both hands pressing you back into the pile of cash and holding you down so your entire body shook with the force of his thrusts. Your orgasm came harder and faster than you had expected even with the situation, and your back arched hard against the cash, your hands moving to grip the notes and one of the packets burst open, money flying and resting on your gyrating bodies. You couldn’t help but laugh as you came down from your high, his hips snapping against you as he came hard too, grinning as the money rested on your body and he moved his hands to push it away from your face, kissing you softly.

You lay panting for a few moments before he pulled out of you, bringing you to standing before the two of you could leak any further dna evidence onto the pile. You helped him clip the covering back over the cash, picking up some of the lose notes and handing them to him to put in his wallet. He picked your panties up from the floor and you held your hand out for them, but he chuckled darkly.

“If you want these back you’re gonna have to earn them…”

#J Cody #j Cody imagine #animal kingdom #animal kingdom imagine #Lauren writes #one shots #onthejob*

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keeroo92 · 5 years

Text

Savior, Bloodstain, Hellfire, Shadow Ch 23 (V x Reader)

Chapter 23 - Prelude

________________________________________________

June 15th, 6:12 am

The last few hours since V and Nero’s departure had felt like a millennia. Every second passing was another second you pictured another vision of V and Nero dying at the hands of some formless monster. Each heartbeat was another beat during which their hearts may have already stopped. Each breath you took was another gasp of air that you prayed they inhaled too, wherever they were and whatever they faced. You had long since run out of tears, only your shaking body and twisted expression showing the turmoil in your mind.

You sit with Nico in silence, her arm still draped over your shoulders as she chews on her bottom lip nervously. You barely notice her presence as you imagine Nero falling off a twelve story building, the same crunch you heard when his spine broke echoing brutally as he hits the ground and breaks every bone in his body.

Nico’s gentle hand stroking your hair only triggers an image of V getting his hair, his wonderful hair, ripped out harshly by a ghostly hand, bits of his scalp still clinging to the roots in bloody chunks of flesh. The formless hand descends again, claws sprouting from its fingers and slicing across V’s bleeding scalp deep enough to reveal the grey mass hidden within and you swallow harshly to keep yourself from vomiting, your body curling inwards in preparation despite your best efforts.

“Ah, fuck this! Hold on, honey, I’ll get us there as quick as I can!” Nico exclaims suddenly, her body rising away from you to dash to the driver’s seat. You blink slowly as she starts the engine, your awareness of reality foggy. She floors the accelerator and your body is shoved against the leather of the couch as the force hits you.

Is it time to go now…? We’re going to find them?

You brace your feet on the rug and force yourself to stand, keeping your knees bent in case Nico has to take a turn. This proves to be wise as she does exactly that, throwing your body sideways as you barely manage to keep yourself upright.

“Get your ass up here, Y/N! It’s gonna be a bumpy ride!” Nico shouts from her seat with a crazed laugh.

An image of V’s face glazed over in death spurs you to move, a few desperate steps bringing you within arms reach of the passenger seat just in time to grab onto the headrest as Nico turns again, two wheels leaving the ground entirely as she howls around a corner. The tires hit the ground again in a loud screech and you pull yourself into the seat beside her, hurriedly clicking your seatbelt into place. She winks at you as the van slams into a parked vehicle and just keeps barreling forward as if nothing happened.

Not for the first time, you find yourself wondering where on Earth Nico had learned to drive.

You look out the windshield, hoping to catch a glimpse of Nero or V somewhere in view to no avail. All that greets your hungry gaze is more of the same abandoned cars and rubble you’ve seen enough to last a lifetime now. You’re about to lean back when a low rumble sounds from above, and as you watch the Qlipoth root that was the target of the attack turns grey and shatters, massive hunks of the stony structure falling across the area in a wide spread. Nico cheers and you can’t help but join her even as your stomach lurches, wondering what state the two men are in.

With a final screech of rubber, your prayers are answered as V and Nero come into view; panting, dusty, covered in blood but alive and standing! Griffon flies overhead and Shadow prowls around the lean poet’s feet as the van comes to a shuddering halt not ten feet from where the two men stand watching. Your fingers leap to the catch of your seatbelt in such a rapid movement they slide right off again from the sweat covering your palms. You growl in frustration, wiping your palms on your pants with gritted teeth.

“I know, I know, I’m late! Shut it!” Nico jokes out the window at the two men. “The roads were all clogged!”

You don’t hear whatever she says next as you mercifully manage to unbuckle yourself and almost fall out of the seat in your rush to reach V. A portion of your mind idly watches V flick a piece of whatever demon he and Nero had defeated into Nico’s grasp as you sprint at him, only able to breathe again once you finally wrap your arms around his slim frame. He lets out a low grunt at the impact, but his free arm finds its way around you quickly enough. You inhale his scent joyfully as Nero scolds Nico somewhere in the distance.

“Did you just sniff that? Do you have any idea where that’s been?”

“Up your butt?”

“Tch. Focus on the mission!”

All sound seems to fade as you feel V’s chest rumbling beneath in laughter, the boisterous sound telling you everything you desperately needed to know about how he was after the battle. Relief floods you, a powerful flood of energy seeping away through your toes into the ground as the tension leaves your body at last.

I have to get strong enough, so he never has to leave me behind again.

“One rotten sheep spoils the whole flock,” V quips with an adorable smirk, and you slowly begin to giggle as his meaning becomes clear and the stress vacates your senses. His emerald eyes sparkle in amusement as your laughter erupts from you, his own mixing in once more to your delight.

It feels stunningly perfect to laugh, to take a moment to enjoy V’s unique sense of humor in the chaos surrounding you. You tighten your arms around him once more before you let him go, ready to join Nero and Nico in the van. You take V’s hand and enter the van to formulate the next attack, feeling infinitely better about your prospects now that the two men had managed to take down a root without sustaining any injuries. Griffon follows you, settling in on top of the old-fashioned jukebox across from the couch.

Inside, Nico is already hard at work, cursing as she tries to figure out a way to make use of the demonic horn V had tossed her way. You sit down in your usual spot on the as V approaches Nero up front where the young warrior sits with his feet on the dash.

Now that the group is safely reunited, you vaguely remember your gift for Nico and you bring the phone to her with a smile. She glances up at you in confusion before her gaze drops to your hands and grins widely.

“Awesome! Is that for me? Lemme take a look at it, should be able to get it working if I can just…” she trails off as you place the landline in her hands, her mind already hard at work to figure out how to get the phone hooked up to the van. You turn back to the two men in the front, addressing them both equally as you sit back down on the couch.

“Just so you know, I’m not staying behind again,” you pipe up, crossing your arms stubbornly.

Staying behind with Nico had been a special kind of torture, forcing all the familiar feelings of uselessness, powerlessness, self-doubt and panic to wrap you in their embrace like an old friend. Even though it made logical sense for you to remain with Nico, you know it would tear you apart until you had nothing left, leaving you in a near-constant state of high caliber panic and anxiety.

I don’t want to watch them dying in my head anymore. I can’t.

Instantly as you think of them, all the different visions of V and Nero’s deaths flood your mind again and you stop breathing, heart locked in a terrible vice and stomach roiling harshly as you struggle to stay in the moment, to focus on the now. You start counting in your head, the linear progression of numbers a soothing balm of logical thinking to ease your emotional state.

“In that case, I think we should split into two groups,” V informs the group after your pronouncement.

“And cover more ground. Good idea,” Nero replies, spinning back around to head Nico’s way but she’s already stepping out from behind the counter with a new arm held out proudly. It’s a different design, red and black and much bulkier than the Bladestorm Nero has been using so much.

“Behold, my genius! Ah, ah, cash first,” Nico insists as Nero reaches out to take the new device from her, Griffon watching in amusement behind him. You see V sit on one of the small seats by the table out of the corner of your eye, smirking as he watches the pair argue.

“All the materials I collected for your little pet projects don’t count for anything?” the young warrior complains with a gesture at her work station, but she barely glances at it before she responds.

“My brilliant, badass work is worth every dime, and you know it,” she tells him as she pulls out a cigarette and crosses by Nero, forcing him to step back to make enough room for her to pass.

“Yeah, well your quality control sucks ass, and you know that,” Nero snaps back with a gesture of his hand. V glances at you with a twinkle of mirth in his emerald gaze, the two of you enjoying the show in silence.

“Or maybe don’t let the demons smack you around so much?” Nico suggests with a sharp flick of her arm. Nero clenches his jaw and flushes just a tiny bit as he turns away from her, stepping over to stand near the work bench.

“Whatever,” he mutters as he leans against the wall near you.

Nico holds up the device once more, smiling proudly as she watches the way it reflects the light.

“I am truly gifted. It’s a work of art,” she comments reverently, holding the arm up near where Griffon perches on the jukebox. The mouthy bird chuckles for a moment in amusement before his gravely voice rings out from his triple-forked beak.

“So you’re an artist now, huh?” he asks Nico mockingly.

She turns to face him so quickly he visibly jumps back in alarm, wings opening slightly to keep his balance as he lets out a startled squawk. You can picture the glare Nico sends the bird as she faces away from you, her voice a threatening tone.

“Yes I am. Got any questions, little chicken?”

Nico turns to face V, a small smirk gracing his lips as she ignores Griffon to address him.

“My grandmother was called the .45 caliber virtuoso. Legendary gunsmith,” she tells the lean poet, mechanical arm in one hand and unlit cigarette in the other. “I hope to be like her someday. An artist, and a lethal artisan.”

Her gaze shifts back to the arm in her grasp with a proud smile as she speaks. “Everything I create is a work of art, whether it’s a gun…”

She pauses and steps closer to Griffon again. “Or a steel pot, to cook birds in!”

Nico spins around and plops down on the couch next to you, one hand reaching for a lighter as she concludes, “Any more questions? Huh, lil’ chickee?”

Griffon ruffles his feathers, trying his best to not show any fear, but you can tell the idea of being cooked disturbs him thoroughly. V chuckles lightly as he stands, waving one arm through the air as Nico exhales a large cloud of smoke.

“We’ll take our leave now,” he says with a glance at you. You quickly stand and make sure you have everything you’ll need as Nero steps forward, slinging his massive blade across his back from where it rests beside the jukebox. V catches his eye for a moment as he opens the door to leave.

“And if we don’t see you along the way, we’ll see you at the bottom of the Qlipoth,” he murmurs as he steps out of the van. You give Nico a quick hug, and Nero a solid fist bump before you follow V outside, overjoyed to be accompanying him.

The lean poet seems stronger, more energetic than usual. His cane held loosely in his left hand, looking more like a stage prop that a necessary medical device as he strides away from the van confidently, his body almost swaggering as you follow behind him. Griffon flaps overhead, keeping his strange eyes peeled for any sign of trouble as you progress.

The sound of your new sword striking the metal crutches sets an easy rhythm for your steps, your faithful baseball bat slung over your shoulders on top of your backpack. It’s now been almost ten days since your hip injury, the pain fading a little bit more each day. You haven’t had to take any ibuprofen for a few days, your high pain tolerance serving you well.

By this point, the crutches are more of a formality. I don’t really need them to walk, but also shouldn’t walk unaided as much as I’m sure we’ll need to. I can drop them to fight easily enough.

Griffon’s voice shakes you from your thoughts as you follow V into a small tunnel, some kind of passage below the street that crosses over the top of the structure. Griffon follows soon after, massive wings disturbing the dirt beneath your feet with each flap.

“So, V you think this kid can defeat Urizen?”

Does he mean Nero?

You can hear the smirk on the poet’s lips as he replies softly, “One can only hope.”

Suddenly the rear of the tunnel collapses, chunks of rock crashing down to rest a few yards away from where you stand. You cough as the dust rises, choking you slightly.

“But for now, we have a more pressing engagement,” V concludes. He checks to make sure you’re alright and strides forward again, his focus clear. You follow a few steps behind, taking a sip of water from one of the bottles to help clear your throat of dust particles. You’ve barely reached the next turn in the road when you spot some Empusa. V quickly flicks his wrist and Shadow materializes with a low roar.

You drop your crutches, standing strong on your own two feet as you draw the sword, wrapping your right hand up close to the guard loosely as Griffon mocks Shadow overhead.

“Oooooh, genius says be careful! No shit, Shirley. Ain’t that right, V? I mean, you ARE fragile at the moment, wouldn’t take much to wipe you out in a sticky situation!”

V smirks, a sparkle of amusement lighting his eyes as he pulls out his book, letting it fall open to any page and reading the first line he sees aloud.

“He who desires but act not, breeds pestilence. So it is written,” he intones, snapping he book closed again and stowing it back within his vest as Griffon replies with a sigh.

“Okay Shakespeare. Just remember this: you and I like to exist. So, get rid of those demons quick, cause killing ‘em ain’t my shtick! I got your back, cause dying is whack!”

Shadow lets out another roar as you step forward, twirling your blade in front of you to loosen your wrist. The nearest Empusa moves toward you and you shoot V a glare to warn him not to interfere. He smirks and redirects his attention to the other two Empusa, Griffon and Shadow already on the offensive.

Your foe charges at you suddenly and you step to the side quickly, lowering your blade across its back as it crosses by you. The sharp edge sinks deep into the creature, leaving a satisfying slice on its back as it turns to face you again. You wait until it charges again before snapping your sword forward, making sure to brace the pommel on your inner wrist as Nero had shown you as you thrust the tip of the blade deep into the Empusa’s hideous face. You grin maniacally as it pokes all the way through its head.

As the tell-tale ash rises from its corpse, you turn to see V watching you with a pleased twist marking his mirth. When you step closer he actually starts laughing.

“What’s so funny, my poet?” you ask him curiously. He chuckles once more before resting an arm over your shoulders with an adorable smirk.

“Do you remember when you saw your first Empusa? At the store when we needed supplies?” he inquires.

How could I forget? I killed the damn thing with a frying pan.

You nod slowly and V smiles as Shadow pads up to you for some scratches. You happily oblige her as he explains his mirth.

“I was remembering how you looked when I found you, that pan still in both hands. You had the exact same look on your face just now as you did that day, the same lovely bloodthirsty smile. The comparison of circumstances amused me, my little warrior fox,” he informs you with a wide smile. You wipe your blade on your sleeve carefully and sheathe it before leaning over and giving V a playful swat on the behind. He raises an eyebrow at you and reaches out to pull you against him for a kiss that stops time.

I’ll never get tired of kissing him…

You moan lightly as Shadow huffs and pads away. You hear Griffon making retching noises somewhere nearby but ignore it to focus on the wonderful sensation of V’s full lips caressing yours, his tongue dipping in and out of your mouth skillfully as he teases you to the point of gasping. You squeak suddenly when V’s steady hand strikes your ass in a firm spank, his fingers grasping your toned flesh and caressing it tenderly to soothe the sting away. He growls into your mouth as he pulls back and you surge with confidence at the flush on his cheeks and the glazed look of his emerald eyes.

“Between two moments bliss is ripe,” he recites in a purr that leaves your knees weak. Much to your disappointment, he releases you from his embrace with a sigh.

“We must keep moving,” he reminds you sadly and you nod in agreement. You hastily situate yourself on your accursed crutches and follow V as he strides forward, Griffon flapping above and Shadow prowling nearby.

A short time later, you enter a courtyard as you exit a building, shipping containers forming a blockade ahead. You look back to V questioningly to see him staring at a series of dark shapes above. They resemble bats, but they’re far larger than any you’ve ever heard of. You glace at V again as Shadow roars a challenge to them.

“Hellbats. They can spit fire, so keep your eyes up,” he instructs you with a grimace.

You sigh heavily and drop your crutches with a clatter, drawing your sword with a satisfying sound of metal sliding against its sheath. You hold it at waist height and wait, knowing one of these foes will eventually come to you. Even as you stay motionless, V bursts into action. Griffon swoops forward, raking one of the bats with his harsh talons. Shadow shifts into her spinning blade form, rising off the ground to slash deep into another bat nearby.

You see one coming your way and raise your blade a bit higher, stepping forward to slice clean through the creature as it starts to gather flames in its mouth. Its ash blows away in the slight breeze as you glance at V again.

He’s in the middle of a flying leap, bringing his cane down to bear against a Hellbat with a sharp thrust of his lean arms.

He’s fine, I don’t need to worry about him.

The last bat not already fighting one of you swoops close to you, a stream of fire falling from its gaping maw as it passes. You leap aside with a gasp, your hip twinging slightly as you land. Even so, you manage to reach out with your jian and make a clumsy cut into the demon’s wing. It circles haphazardly for a moment before it’s forced to the ground and you quickly finish it off with a single swing of your blade.

You look around for the next combatant only to find there are none left. You shoot an exhilarated smile at V as your chest heaves in exertion. You clean your blade and sheathe it again carefully, following V as he strides to the corner of the courtyard toward a stairwell leading down. A partially destroyed brick wall stands ahead, and V carefully climbs over it with a gesture for you to wait there. A moment later, you hear Griffon’s raucous cries as he attacks something and you blink in amusement as a portion of the nearby root crumbles away, giving V a way forward around the corner out of your sight. He returns a moment later with a smile as he jumps off the ledge with a laugh. You gasp and look over the edge to see Griffon grasping V’s arm and slowly lowering him the last few feet.

Now you’re just showing off…

You roll your eyes but take hold when Griffon returns for you, the ladder a bit much with how full your hands are. Once on the ground, you have to step carefully around the twisting train tracks lining the area. More shipping containers lie strewn about, some stacked carefully but others having clearly moved when the Qlipoth struck. You pause your observations as red webbing appears and a swarm of Empusa come crawling out of various nooks and crannies, a few popping in through gray portals.

V smirks at you and winks before raising his left hand high and snapping, the obsidian hue of his hair swirling away to reveal the snowy tone underneath. A fireball descends from on high, the herald of Nightmare’s arrival striking perfectly between several of the Empusa. V darts forward and deals the final blow to several in rapid succession as Nightmare bubbles into existence.

You stay far back and watch as V stalks around the edges of the tracks, his emerald eyes always seeking the next death blow as Nightmare shoots laser after laser into the demons, Griffon cackling as he spits lightning and Shadow roaring as she swipes her claws angrily.

Sometimes I forget how powerful he actually is… this is like an orchestra.

As if V heard your thoughts, he turns to you with a grin and extends his cane out in an approximation of a conductor, loudly humming a few bars of Flight of the Valkyries. As his hand punches the air in emphasis, you can’t help but giggle.

He seems so happy today.

He winks at you once again before leaping back into the chaotic battle to finish off the last few Empusa with a dark chuckle, white hair flowing as he moves gracefully about. As Nightmare bubbles away with the last demon, his hair regains its dark tone and he steps back over to join you.

“You are so ridiculous sometimes, you know that?” you inform him with an amused smirk. He shrugs and leans in for a quick peck, a soft hum of contentment thrumming in his throat.

“I thought I’d give you a taste of the Opera you wanted, little fox,” he murmurs as he steps back, his words warming you in his affection.

“Ah, well… it was quite the spectacle!” you tease him as the two of you set off once more, heading toward a distorted bridge covered in small Qlipoth roots. V has to help you step over a few of the larger ones. Roughly halfway across, a bulging red mass extends from one of the tendrils, pulsating angrily in a mimicry of a heartbeat. The roots here are too large for you to traverse, and V sighs as he ponders his options.

“This bridge seems unstable… If I were to clear that root, it may collapse,” he informs you seriously.

“So… what do we do?” you ask in response.

He gazes off into the distance, his eyes sweeping across the myriad of sunken buildings as he thinks. Suddenly he grins, chuckling as he points.

“Look, I can see Nero,” he shows you and sure enough, the white-haired warrior is off in the distance, finding his own way across the area. As you watch, something shoots from his new arm and he latches on to a strange orb floating between two buildings, tugging himself forward to land on the next rooftop from the momentum. You hear a faint whoop as he trots forward to meet a few demons in battle, his sword gleaming with flames.

You shake your head and turn back to your own situation, gears turning in your mind to find a way across, but you can’t think of anything useful. V follows your gaze and clenches his jaw irritably as he steps closer to the red pustules. You follow him easily enough on the smooth surface; the area is still lacking the rubble you’ve grown so accustomed to.

“I don’t see any other options, I’ll have to risk it,” V murmurs and you nod, bracing yourself in case the bridge fails. He flicks his wrist out and Shadow appears, her claws already slashing forward to attack. It only takes a few strikes for the red orbs to burst, showering V in blood. The root turns gray and the bridge beneath your feet rumbles as it begins to fall away. V grunts, bracing his cane against the ground to keep himself from hitting the ground. His fearful eyes meet yours as he rushes forward, only a step ahead of you as you scramble behind him. He reaches out both arms, one to pull you to him and the other extended out as he leaps into free space, the bridge collapsing into the water below with a great crash.

Your heart stops as his arm barely manages to reach you, tugging you against him harshly as you both begin to fall together. A swarm of black shards escapes V’s outstretched arm and Griffon materializes above you. His feet latch onto V’s still raised arm and you can feel the jerk as the momentum shifts. Griffon struggles, flapping as hard as he can but unable to rise.

Oh shit, we are so dead!

“V, need a little help here!” the bird shouts in alarm.

“My hands are quite occupied, my friend,” the lean poet answers in a tight tone. The small coil of fear in your belly grows into a full-blown snake as you realize you might still fall and your grip on V tightens harshly in your fear. He looks down at you and clenches his jaw, something in his eyes shifting as he comes to the same conclusion. He growls deep in his throat and suddenly Griffon shoots higher, bringing you above the lip of the edge of what remains of the other side of the bridge with a triumphant howl. Griffon flaps a few more times, bringing you farther over the edge as V swings his body and lets go, rolling onto himself to take the worst of the impact himself.

V grunts heavily as his shoulder strikes the pavement, you landing on his chest as he’d planned. The two of you pause a moment to catch your breath after the near miss. He chuckles against you as his arms relax, letting you sit up to take a look at his shoulder. He dutifully holds still as you probe the joint, checking for any damage.

“I think you’re good, except for the bruise you’re bound to get,” you inform him after you conclude your brief exam. He smiles and sits up with a sigh, offering you a hand up once he stands again. It’s only as you rise that you realize you dropped one of your crutches.

“Damnit, I lost a crutch!” you exclaim in frustration, glancing around on the off chance it landed on this side. V looks too, but the area is devoid of the strange contraption. You sigh but resolve yourself to make do with just the one.

I didn’t really need them that much anymore, but still…

“Shall we see if there’s something you could use instead?” V asks thoughtfully, but you shake your head.

“It should be fine. Let’s keep going,” you insist with a grim smile. He nods and steps forward toward what the building at the end of the tracks. Your eyes widen as you approach, seeing the shipping containers precariously balanced near another thick root. V walks over to a hideous demonic spout, green ooze leaking from its orifice in a slow, viscous stream. He hums happily as he reaches inside the gap and pulls out what looks like a chunk of brain tissue with red strings coming off it and stuffs it in his pocket. The sight reminds you of your nightmare and you shiver uncomfortably.

“Uh, what’s that for?” you ask quietly.

“It’s a Niddhog hatchling. They can be useful occasionally,” he replies mysteriously as the spout-like structure dissolves. You push your disgust away as you follow him into the building through a door on the side, passing several orange construction dividers along the way. You descend a set of stairs into a storage area, crossing it quickly and without interruption.

The street below is strangely clear, the unusual void of debris and vehicles making you tense uneasily. Your instincts are proven correct as you and V enter a side lot, red webbing blocking your escape as two Empusa climb out of portals, a third green one flying overhead. You draw your sword and drop your remaining crutch, descending into a low crouch. V flicks his cane to the side and Shadow’s form appears in a cloud of black shards, Griffon not far behind as V’s arms lighten considerably. The Empusa don’t stand a chance, dropping quickly to your group.

But the fight isn’t over – a pair of Caina and a pair of Antenora wriggle through their own portals, a slightly more difficult challenge but one you know you can handle with V at your back.

“I’ll take the one on the left!” you shout to him, sprinting forward to aim a low slice at the belly of the nearest Antenora. It hits, but you have to hit the ground as the demon swings back at you with one of its massive cleavers. From your position below, you carefully turn the sword and jab it up under the creatures jaw, the tip poking out through its head in a shower of blood. It starts to dissolve as you withdraw the blade, standing quickly to face your next target.

One of the Caina steps toward you slowly, and you remember the day Nero taught you about these ugly beasts as you wait for it to slash at you with its scythe. The moment it does, you duck and roll, barely able to somersault between its legs with the sword in hand. Once you’re behind it, you drive the blade into its back with a backwards thrust. Feeling its hot blood splash against your crouched form makes you grin in triumph. Your body aches as you stand; the somersault hadn’t been very graceful. A wince of discomfort crosses your face as you watch V clean up the last Caina with ease.

It’s amazing how in sync we are, how much we trust one another in a battle.

Then again, it was easy to trust the man who had saved your life before he even knew your name.

“Shall we?” V murmurs, bringing your attention back to the present. You nod and clean your blade, sheathing it cautiously and getting your crutch from where you had dropped it.

You barely manage to catch your breath before the next fight begins, another group of Hellbats and Antenora crawling into existence to try to murder you. They fall much the same as the last ones did, and you share another grin with your partner as you continue forward. He exclaims softly a moment later as another growth of roots comes into view, but this one has a strange gap in it, oozing green pus from the crevice. It smells horrendous, like an infected wound that’s turning gangrenous. You see V reach inside his pocket and pull out the hatchling as you try not to think about what the strange orifice resembles.

He places the little thing in the opening and it wriggles within. After a moment, the structure turns a ghastly shade of green and shatters, a gush of the disgusting fluid spraying across the pavement and barely falling short of where you stand and you retch harshly.

To your disappointment, there’s nothing of note in the small area revealed by the roots disappearance, and you and V trudge onward once more. Another few Caina and Antenora try their luck and fall without much fuss as you enter a marketplace. Sandwich board signs dot the cobblestone area advertising organic produce and boasting about their quality. The green stalls themselves stand much the same as they may have before the infestation, the only significant differences being that all the food is long rotted, flies hovering above boxes of spoiled fruit happily as the sickly-sweet scent tickles your nostrils.

You force down your disgust as your eyes sweep the area and find more of the human shaped husks crowding the pavilion. You block them from your awareness as you follow V, but as you step forward you feel your sword catch on something. You look down to see what caused the sharp tug at your belt to see the grey remains crumble into dust, leaving only the plantlike red fibers, still forming the shape of a human being vaguely as they wave in the breeze.

The sight makes your skin prickle in revulsion, your stomach rolling as you physically retch for what feels like the thousandth time today, your back arching into the motion as saliva floods your mouth in preparation to vomit. You close your eyes as V walks over to you, taking deep breaths and counting internally to soothe your emotions back into submission. His tattooed hand rests on the small of your back as you gather yourself, only speaking once you manage to stand straight again.

“Like a reflection in a glass, like shadows in the water,” he comments gloomily, rubbing a small circle on your lower back before his hand drops away. You give him a shaky nod and step forward, rapidly approaching the base of the root. You can see where it reaches the ground ahead, a strangely wormlike creature hovering nearby. You take one last look at the marketplace and spot a red telephone booth.

Maybe Nico got the phone working by now!

You hurry to the booth excitedly, seeing the flickering backlight indicating it still has power only to realize the flaw in your plan; you have no coins. V reaches you with a smirk, unsure why you’re so focused on the booth but following along anyway.

“V, do you have any change? We might be able to call Nico! I gave her the phone from my apartment,” you explain to him and he barks out a laugh in understanding. He fishes around in his pockets for a moment, finally pulling out a single coin with a triumphant gleam in his eyes. Before you can snatch it from his long fingers, he steps into the booth himself and slides the coin in. You hurriedly recite your old phone number and cross your fingers as he dials.

A surge of joy envelops you as you hear V speak into the mouthpiece, telling Nico where to meet you. He hangs up quickly, the conversation brief. As he steps out of the booth, you hear the loud engine of Nico’s van approaching above you and you look at V in confusion. His emerald eyes shoot up as Nico’s van comes into view, almost seeming to fly as it comes down from above you, and you can hear Nico’s loud exclamation as she loses control of the vehicle.

Oh no…

There isn’t enough time to finish the thought as V springs into action, leaping off the top of the booth and using Griffon to give him a tiny bit more lift. He turns and Shadow appears out of nowhere, her heavy paws smashing against the top of Nico’s van to force it to the ground in an echoing crash. V grunts as he lands in a low crouch nearby, casually pushing his hair out of his eyes as he stands straight again.

You gape at V, your open mouth and wide eyes making him chuckle as he glances at you, his steps already bringing him to Nico’s van where it rests under a small green sign that reads “Bael the Butcher”. You shake your head and follow him, eager to greet Nico.

“Hey guys, long time no see! Phone was a good call, Y/N!” Nico says, emphasizing her pun with a smug grin as she steps out to give you a hug. You roll your eyes but laugh with her easily.

“Dang, is that the root?” she asks you as she gets her bearings, her eyes drifting to the huge demonic structure in the next area.

“Yes, would you mind waiting for us? We may need to make a hasty exit,” V replies, twirling his cane absentmindedly. Nico nods seriously and pulls out a cigarette, lighting it as she leans against the van to wait and watch as you and V face whatever new monstrosity awaits you.

#dmc5 v #dmc5 #dmc #fanfic #v x reader #v x you #reader insert #op #SBHS #my writing #devil may cry #vitale

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