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justtwotired · 10 months

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“Back the fuck off.”

Summary: you and Regulus recently broke up over stupid teenage reasons. It was a really bad fight and you two haven't spoken since, though both regret your actions. At a Gryffindor house party, he spots you kissing Mathew smith, the Gryffindor seeker, who Regulus absolutely despises.

Pairing: Regulus Black x Gryffindor!reader

Warnings: swearing, kissing, fighting, a bit of sexual assault.

⬇️unamused⬇️

Regulus stands at the drinks table with Barty as they are being pure Slytherins looking around with judging and cold looks. Neither of them wanted to come to said party, but Evan -who was currently participating in a round of beer pong- insisted they went.

His eyes travel the crowd and he spots them, making him narrow his eyes. He knew she was doing it to spite him, he knew even she hated Smith, but there she was, sticking her tongue down his throat.

"Ohh, she is playing with fire." Barty seemed to start enjoying the party the moment he followed Regulus gaze. "Shut the hell up." Regulus head snapped towards him and then his eyes traveled back to the girl and that stupid idiot she was kissing.

His hands where slowly starting to roam under her clothes and that's when he couldn't take it anymore and pushed himself of the table making his way towards them.

- 15 minutes earlier -

"They are absolute morons." Y/n shook her head as she watched Sirius and James jump of the table they'd just been dancing on. "Tell me about it." Remus rolled his eyes.

She took a sip of her drink as she watched the boys make their way over to them. "Oh, their coming pretend you don't know them." Peter said and they all quickly avoided eye contact with the two boys. "Oh haha, you're so funny." Sirius said sarcastically.

His eyes fell on Y/n and they narrowed. "Boring again, I see." He said as he eyed the glass with clear liquid in her hands. "But thinking about it, I could use some water," he took it out of her hands and a horrified expression formed on her face.

"Sirius no wait-" but she was to late and he took a sip and moments later spit it out, coughing. "Y/n, you absolutely menace to society." He said handing the glass back to her.

"Are you alright, pads?" James asked laughing. "I am, but she isn't, what psychopath just casually sips straight vodka." He grimaces and James' eyebrows race.

"What? It's good, you're all just over dramatic." She said taking another sip, making Peter chuckle a bit, as he himself had made that same mistake before.

They all looked up at the sound of the portrait swinging open and watched an excited Evan and annoyed Barty and Regulus walk into the common room.

Y/n rolled her eyes, and then they landed on someone and a smirk formed onto her face. "Y/n, no." Remus said and she looked at him. "What do you mean no?" She asked.

"Regulus just walked in and your wearing that smirk? Whatever your planning, no." He said and she rolled her eyes and giggled. "It's just a bit of fun." She said, standing up to leave the couch and pushing the glass into Sirius' hands.

"Here, you can have that." She says and he looks at it in disgust. "No thanks." And puts it down.

"Smith, hey." She greats the seeker and he turned to her. "Y/n, looking ravishing as always." He said with a shit eating grin as he looked her up and down and stopped at her chest.

She would slap him in the face if it wasn't for her plan just unfolding:

Make Regulus as jealous as possible.

"I can say the same about you." She said, her words slightly slurring. Smith took a step closer, snaking an arm around her waist. Everyone in Hogwarts who had a brain knew he had liked her since fourth year, which was one of the reasons Regulus despised him, but also the other way around.

Everyone in Hogwarts with a brain also knew Smith was an actual, selfish, prick. He had a reputation of cheating, one girl even claimed he had cornered her once, but no one knew if it was true, as she had a reputation of lying.

"I heard your single now." He grinned as he pulled her closer, his breath smelled like alcohol. "It was such a shame you where with... him." He sounded disgusted at the last words.

She let out a sarcastic laugh, starting to maybe regret her decision a little bit... but only a little.

"Well, that's over now... sooo." She trailed her finger passed his white button up. She looked up at him and he smashed his lips against hers, she pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.

Her eyes fluttered open to look around the room and they landed on Regulus who wasn't looking at her as his eyes traveled around the room, but she could see them slowly make their way over to them and she closed her eyes again as Smith tongue slipped into her mouth.

They broke apart for a moment before they kissed again and slowly his hands started to travel, one slipping into her skirt and the other under her top.

His lips detached from hers and made their way to her neck and then he whispered in her ears. "Seeing such a beautiful girl like you with a Slytherin. Tsk, I'll show you what it's like to be with a real guy." He whispered before going back to kissing her neck and his hand suddenly slipped into her panty's.

She was taken by surprise but before she could do anything about it, someone else did.

Regulus had made his way trough the crowd, pushing people aside and watching as Smith went further into her skirt and kissing her neck, it made his blood boil.

"Back the fuck off." He said and Smith looked up and grinned, taking his hand out of her skirt, and Regulus almost thought she looked relieved.

They made eyes contact and he narrowed his eyes at her. "What do you want." She said, obviously with alcohol in her system. "Indeed, what do you want?" Smith asked as he put and arm around her waste and his finger tips rested under the band of her skirt.

"I want you, to get your filthy hands of her." Regulus said with a threatening tone. "And why would I do that? Such a pretty girl, and she isn't yours anymore? I wouldn't even have cared is she still was, I had plans anyway." He laughed dryly and Y/n looked rather horrified as she questioned if that would have been against her will.

"Leave her alone." Regulus demanded and Smith smirked. "And why would I do that, she seemed to be rather enjoying me."

Suddenly, Y/n started to really regret her decision, and grabbed his wrist to stop him from going any further. "What is it baby, you don't like it?" He asked and she sighed and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Stop, I want you to stop." She told him and he huffed. "You don't tell me when to stop." He said and pulled the hand on his wrist away with his other hand.

She knew she had gotten herself in this situation, it was her own fault, but now she really wanted to get out. Suddenly he let go of her and Y/n hadn't processed the sickening crack.

Regulus had punched him right in the nose and blood was rapidly streaming out. His grey eyes fell on Y/n who stared shocked.

He grabbed her arm and then dragged her out of the common room and eventually stopped in a hallway.

"What is wrong with you?" He asked angrily. "Do you know how much worse that could have been?" He asked, he was furious as he turned his back to her.

"Honestly, Y/n that was such a stupid move! And for what? Making me jealous? Well it worked, happy now?" He turned to her as he yelled, but stopped as he watched her.

Her hands where shaking and tears streamed down her face. His features softened as he walked towards her and took her hands in his, placing a soft kiss on each of them.

"It's alright." He whispered to her and she shook her head. "No, no it's not, I'm so sorry, it was a stupid move. I didn't think it trough." She said as more tears streamed down her face and she sniffed as her nose was now full and starting to run.

He wiped away the tears with his sleeve and kissed her on the forehead. "It's alright, Ma Cherie." He whispered as he hugged her. "Come, you need to get some sleep." He said and then led her over to the Slytherin dorms.

She was sitting on his bed as Regulus took a T-shirt and sweatpants out of his closet. He hands rested on her top and then looked at her. "May I help you here?" He asked and she nodded.

"Use your words, darling." He said softly, he always requested she used words when asking for her permission to do things like this, as he didn't want her to regret later.

"Yes." She croaked out and he slowly lifted it over her head and helped her pull the clean shirt over her head. He did the same with the pants and then tucked her into his bed.

He changed out of his clothes to, and joined her, pulling her into him and kissing her forehead. "I love you, my little dove." He said and she murmured something along the lines of "I love you too." Back before falling asleep.

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lemonlover1110 · 8 months

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𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐋

Toji Fushiguro

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Summary: You ruin your boyfriend's perfect marriage proposal.

Warnings: Pure Fluff

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

When did Toji fall in love again? He remembers one day waking up and deciding that he wanted to spend the rest of his days with you. The thought of having a family with you overjoyed him, and the thought of you being with someone else fueled him with rage. That morning he realized he needed to propose.

Planning the perfect proposal isn’t easy though. He has to pick out the perfect ring, pick the perfect date that has the perfect weather outside, he has to pick out the perfect romantic spot that has some significance to your relationship, he has to tell you to get your nails done without seeming suspicious– He has to plan out so many different things and ensure everything is perfect. Toji has never been the type of man to worry about this but he wants to make sure this is memorable for you. He wants this to be perfect, all for you.

He picked out a date and made a reservation at your favorite restaurant, then you’ll be going for a drive. It’s date night, of course he wants to see you all dolled up, he doesn’t want you to look your best for any other reason. The man that always assures you that you’ll turn heads even if you wear a simple trash bag so he doesn’t need to see if your outfit is okay, is the same man that’s telling you that he wants you to wear his favorite pink dress of yours. It doesn’t click in your head though.

“Good morning.” You yawn as you step out of the bedroom. You’re wearing an old pajama set that is washed out, your hair is messy, and your face is a bit puffy after sleeping for so long. It’s the most beautiful sight in Toji’s eyes though. You walk up to him and kiss his cheek before walking to the kitchen to serve yourself a cup of coffee.

“How’d you sleep, baby?” Toji asks, sitting down at the dining table to watch you get your day started. He hopes it starts off great, and that it’ll keep getting better until he finally proposes. His proposal is in just a couple hours, and the nerves are beginning to kill him.

“I had the strangest dream last night.” You comment, making him raise his brows.

“What was it?” He questions, and you shake your head. You walk to the dining table and take a seat across from him.

“It just made me realize… I want to spend every day I have left of life with you.” You begin, and he hopes that you’re not insinuating what he thinks. No, you can’t be doing that. You can’t be so selfish and ruin all his hard work. “I want us to get married, Toji.”

“No!” He yells, slamming his hand on the table, and your eyes widen. You’re taken back by the response, and your heart swells. You didn’t expect him to… Reject you. The same man that you cuddled into the previous night, who told you how much he loved you and how he wants to spend the rest of eternity with you, rejects you angrily.

“I– Um…” You try to gather words, and you feel the tears welling up in your eyes.

“No! I do want to get married.” He says once he realizes how overdramatic and mean he sounded. “I just…” He chuckles. “I planned out the perfect proposal. In a couple hours, I was going to propose.”

You watch him stand up and walk away from the dining table, to the bedroom. You wipe away the tear that manages to slip, and you laugh in relief. You just had the worst timing possible. He walks back to you, holding the little black box.

He gets on one knee in front of you, and he opens the little black box to showcase the perfect ring. This isn’t how he planned it– He’s shirtless, only wearing his pajama pants. He’s kneeling on the cold tile of the kitchen floor. Your nails aren’t done yet, and you clearly just woke up.

“I also want to spend every day I have left of life waking up next to you, as your husband. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” He asks, and you nod your head frantically.

“Yes!” You exclaim, overjoyed. You get up from the chair, giving him your hand so he puts the engagement ring on your ring finger. He gets up from the floor, his hands wrapping around your waist while his lips meet yours.

Maybe this isn’t the ideal proposal, and you don’t look how he envisioned. But you still look perfect, washed out pajamas and all; and you look perfect, and you sound perfect, and you act perfect. Maybe he didn’t have to plan all of it out, he just needed you for the proposal to be ideal.

And when you pull away from the kiss and he admires your eyes, he realizes something. He fell in love the moment he realized that you make the worst possible outcome, simply the best.

#toji x y/n #toji zenin #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro #daddy toji #fushiguro toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #toji x reader #toji x you #dilf toji #toji fushiguro x you #toji fluff

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purple-babygirl · 4 months

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my bucky?

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x f!reader (reader is little in the very beginning)

Word count: 7,390

Summary: Bucky's angel finally sees the hidden side of him.

Warnings: details of violence, kidnapping, getting shot, physical abuse by kidnappers, slapping, too much crying, angst

A/N: to all the nonnies that came to me once and asked "what if angel saw bucky beating someone up?" "what if angel gets kidnapped?", this is for you💜 i hope you have a good time with this one, loves x💜

Whenever he’d think of her, he’d think of jasmines. Soft, fragrant, pure-looking, fragile, beautiful jasmines. Like jasmines, she released her sweet perfume engulfed by the darkness of his night. Only he got to bask in her aroma. And like a jasmine in autumn, he’d fallen for her evergreen soul and he’d fallen hard.

Bucky knew she saw him through a pink lens. She ate up his lies like candy and although he felt bad, he knew it was for the best. He could visibly see her running out the door whenever he’d imagine someone opening her eyes to how cruel he actually was. It was selfish, but it was easier for him and safer for her this way. Better for both of them.

Luck wasn’t exactly his best friend though.

Bucky would never forget the look in her innocent, teary eyes as she watched him literally beat the life out of a man with all his might. He knew it was fairly stupid of him to do it in the back of his own garage, right next to his house where she was peacefully getting ready to call it a night. But he just couldn’t hold back when he saw the guy’s dumb face when his men brought him in.

“Miss?” She found Roseanne by the door, looking more nervous than usual.

She was shocked, no, terrified at the scene she couldn’t take her eyes away from. How and why was she even here in the first place?

Daddy said he’d be back for story time but he hasn’t been back yet. What was taking him so long?

She couldn’t fall asleep if his voice wasn’t lolling her to sleep. She couldn’t fall asleep if it wasn’t in his arms. Life without him just didn’t make sense anymore.

She got out of bed, slipped in her fluffy cat slippers and went on a little quest to find him. Bucky was always happy to see her so he’d forgive her for getting out of bed where he’d expected her to wait.

“Roseanne, have you seen my Bucky?” she asked with a smile.

“I think he’s busy right now, miss. You better wait in your room where it’s warm,” Roseanne tried to tempt her, using the cold as a good reason why she shouldn’t go outside where Bucky was.

The young woman looked distressed, like she was scared of something.

“What’s wrong, Roseanne? Is daddy okay?” she questioned the poor maid, her smile leaving her face.

“Yes, miss. Don’t worry. He’s just a little busy but he’ll be here soon.”

“Is he in the office?”

“I— I don’t know, miss. I think he is,” Roseanne lied.

She tilted her head suspiciously before running to the office to check it out, leaving Roseanne’s pleads for her to get back to the bedroom behind.

It seemed even more suspicious now that Bucky was nowhere to be seen in his office. It didn’t feel right and she had to find Bucky and make sure he was okay. Bucky always knew how to calm all her worries. He knew what to do and what to say.

Bucky protects her and is here for her.

But wait a minute, she didn’t hear his car leave. And if the car didn’t leave then Daddy was certainly in the house, she just missed him while looking.

She roamed the whole mansion, up and down, checking every room twice and she still couldn’t find her daddy.

Her mind was getting cloudier and she was getting more scared. Did daddy leave? Where would he go without letting her know that he’d be leaving? Why didn’t he kiss her forehead goodnight before leaving?

She made her way outside the main door and took sure steps to the large garage, once again taking no regard of Roseanne’s begging, confident in her smart train of thought.

When she arrived at the garage though, the pants she heard startled her to a halt as she ducked behind the black Range Rover.

Was that really Bucky? Her Bucky? Beating up a man to the point where his features weren’t recognizable anymore? That wasn’t possible. Her daddy was a sweetheart. He was the gentlest man she’s ever met and he wouldn’t hurt anyone like that. She knew he was feared because of his work, but he couldn’t kill anyone. Could he?

She peeked around and fell silent as a rock. The sight before her made her feel cold, leaving her poor mind perplexed.

On the first look, she couldn’t fathom what she was looking at. She wanted to look away. She did. But she couldn’t will her head to turn even just a little.

“How stupid do you have to be to think I wouldn’t know you were sent here to hurt my girl?”

A stronger pang hit her little heart when she realized this was happening because of her.

No, this was no bad dream though she’d hoped with all her heart that it was.

She’d made Daddy promise that he wouldn’t hurt anybody on her behalf. He’d promised to choose forgiveness if it was an option. It didn’t make any sense.

Was she too sleepy that she was seeing things? Did her little mind fall asleep without a story anyway and she was having a nightmare?

Sam had seen her first, wide eyes tearing up at the sight of her man smashing another’s face with his fist. He’d tried to tell Bucky, but it was too late. She’d already seen it all.

Those fingers that have ever so tenderly glided across her cheeks time and time again were hidden behind brass knuckles, covered in someone’s blood. That jaw that has only ever tensed from smiling too much around her was clenched, making him look scarier than she could’ve ever imagined him to be. His eyebrows were furrowed and his breaths heavy as he repeatedly and ruthlessly punched the man on the chair.

Her fear intensified when she’d recognized the beaten up man as their newest driver. She remembered him trying to repeatedly ask her if she wanted to go get ice cream with him when Bucky wasn’t home. She also remembered saying no like she was taught. She remembered Bucky promising to choose forgiveness if it was an option again and she saw him break his promise.

“Bucky, enough!” Sam pulled him away from the tied up guy, head nodding to the black vehicle.

Her head went dizzy when she thought of all the men she’d complained to Bucky about since they’d started their relationship. Have they all faced the same fate?

Who was this heaving, bloody-fisted beast before her? Did she ever know Bucky at all? Was he ever truthful about anything he’d told her or was it all just a big lie? How could she trust him with herself ever again? Who was her daddy really?

The walls around Bucky collapsed and he almost collapsed with them when he saw her face. She was there and she’d seen everything. His angel saw it all. His angel was scared. She was scared of him.

“Angeră?”

Her legs no longer wanted to hold her up once she heard his hoarse voice. The air was out of her lungs as she took slow steps back until she pressed herself to one of the grey walls behind her. The stuffie in her hands fell to the ground and with it her heart.

She wanted to run, but her cold body wouldn’t budge. Maybe if she could go back to the house right now, listen to Roseanne, stay in bed, and pretend this never happened, Bucky would miraculously come back with a perfectly healed, clean hand and they would peacefully have a cuddling session while his loving voice told her a story.

“Please don’t hurt me,” she begged, her voice above a whisper as she cowered away from him.

Bucky carefully walked closer, visibly watching her hands tremble. He raised his clean hand to caress her cheek like he always would when she needed him to calm her down.

He wasn’t expecting her to lean into his touch like she was used to, but it still shot daggers to his heart when she flinched, closing her eyes in fear and letting out the tiniest whimper.

“Angel, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Bucky’s broken voice had her heart clenching as she saw him trying to muster up a smile.

“Stay away from me,” she said in panic when he tried to take another step towards her.

“Angeră—”

“Please, Bucky, I’m sorry.”

She didn’t call him daddy or even her Bucky. She couldn’t.

“Baby, let me—”

She shook her head, running away from a shattered Bucky, almost tripping on her own feet.

“Go, we’ll take care of him,” Sam told him, patting his shoulder.

He watched her run as if she was escaping a wild lion, terrified and fearing for her life.

Bucky slammed his fist into the concrete wall where his love once leaned before slipping the brass knuckles off his probably broken fingers and hearing them clank on the ground. He rested both palms on the wall and let his head fall down as he breathed hard.

“Dragă, nu! Te rog, (love, no please)” Bucky begged, his hands grabbing her forearms to stop her from throwing more of her things into the suitcase.

Bucky ran like a mad man on the way to their house. He had no idea what he was going to say or how he was going to justify what she’d just witnessed him do.

She called him Bucky with glossed over eyes. She was bordering on little and he just gave her the trauma of her life. He had no answers to any possible question she might rightfully throw at him. Bucky only knew that he couldn’t lose her; she was the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

He busted through the front door and ran up the stairs only to be met with her frantically packing her things, fat tears soaking her face as she hiccupped out sobs.

“Please let me leave.” Her voice trembled and more tears left her eyes. His right hand had dried blood all over it and it made her skin crawl.

“Please don’t,” Bucky pleaded again, on the verge of crying himself.

“I’m really scared. Please don’t make me stay here,” she begged Bucky, trying to slip out of his grip.

“Angel, please believe me. I will never hurt you,” Bucky swore, his eyes brimming with tears.

“Angel, of course I love you! Please just stay and listen to me, baby.” Tears rolled down Bucky’s cheeks as he took a dress out of her hands before she could pack it.

“Did you ever really love me? Would you really never hurt me? Was anything you ever told me the truth?” Her voice was way too innocent as the questions left her trembling lips.

She didn’t even sound like she was blaming Bucky, she just sounded confused. Disappointed. Hurt.

“I wanna leave. Please let me leave,” she repeated, crying harder as she tried not to let herself crumble down on the floor of their bedroom.

“Angel, please don’t say that.” Bucky shook his head, holding onto her writs for dear life, “I can’t live without you, love. I can’t.”

She looked up at him and the look she gave him let him know she wasn’t little anymore.

Bucky despised himself for making her feel and think that way, “angel—”

“Why did you ever take me? Why did you bring me here?” She asked, the reproach hurting her too, “I didn’t know what love was before you. I trusted you. I trusted you with my heart, Bucky.”

She was saying everything that came to her mind, unable to keep her thoughts inside or else it felt like they might suffocate her. She was mad at herself for letting herself trust and love when she shouldn’t have.

“Are you used to doing this to people? Do you kill people, Bucky?” Her voice broke as she asked, already fearing the answer.

“Angel, please.”

“No, answer me.” Her eyebrows furrowed in sadness, anxious of the reply she was about to receive.

Bucky closed his eyes, not wanting to see her face when he told her his truth, “yes.”

“Yes.” Bucky nodded, hot tears leaving his closed eyes.

Her breath hitched at his answer, making more tears leave his eyes.

“D-Did you do this to the other guys I complained about before, too?”

“Did you kill them?” Her tone fell with her heart.

Bucky only swallowed, going dead silent at her question.

“Oh my god.” She cried, her knees almost giving out as she tried to get her arms free from his grip.

“No, no, angel, I only drove them out of town. They’re alive.” He assured her, leaving out the details about the probable permanent disabilities some of them left town with.

“Why?” She sobbed, her shoulders hurting from squirming in his grasp with no avail.

“They were bothering you.”

“So this makes it okay to kidnap them and beat them up?!” She screamed, her tears never drying up.

“I wanted to protect you,” Bucky whispered, his heart dropping at the realization of how his angel must see him now.

“Protect me from you then and let me go.” Her words shot daggers right into the mafia boss’ chest.

“I can’t believe I loved you so much.” She whispered, mostly to herself, lamenting her foolish, trusting heart.

“Angel, I can’t. You know I can’t.” He knew she was right, but he couldn’t let her leave.

She was his whole world; his life and everything good in it.

“Loved?” Bucky could hear his heart shattering.

“Loved,” she replied despite herself, knowing too well that she was lying.

Bucky finally let her arms go after her confirmation. He knew that if he tried to hold her back now she would only end up hating him. He would rather have her leave him than hate him. He wouldn’t be able to take it.

“I’ll tell the driver to get the car ready so he could take you to your grandma’s,” Bucky told her without looking up, wiping away his tears. For now.

She didn’t reply, and only continued shoving clothes into the bag.

“I just want you to know that I’ll always be here whenever you need me. I will always be yours, angel. Even if you’re no longer mine. I love you and I will love you until the day I die.”

But all of this was nothing compared to the fear that shot up her spine when she heard gunshots making contact with the car she was inside, forcing the driver to stop abruptly.

Bucky’s last words had her sobbing even harder as she fell to her knees the moment he left her alone in the room.

She didn’t want to leave him and she never saw a day like this one coming, but she knew it was only right that she did. They were different from the beginning and she was wrong to let herself live in a daydream for too long. She had no place in Bucky’s world.

The drive back to her grandma’s house was torture. The pain of being fooled could only be overruled by the pain of fearing the only man she’s ever loved. She couldn’t ignore the feeling that she was leaving a piece of her behind in the mansion that the car just drove away from. She knew that piece was her heart and she knew that she was most likely never going to get it back. It will forever remain with Bucky.

Her tears kept coming as she silently wept in the backseat.

Pathetic fallacy was at its highest and the skies were sobbing with her. It was cold and the roads were muddy, thunder hitting every now and then, making trees shudder where they were rooted.

She cried more knowing Bucky would no longer be there to hold her through thunderstorms.

The man and the guard next to him got out their own guns but it was too late for them to do anything as another couple of bullets were shot, going right through their heads. The driver fell lifeless, face first on the driving wheel and she felt her heart stop with his.

“Let me go for your own good,” she said, trying to keep her tone confident and her pain veiled.

Before she could even think of a route to run in, a bag was put over her head, her screams futile as she got violently dragged to another vehicle before it all went completely dark with a hit to the back of her head.

“I thought we were past that shit, babygirl. Three days didn’t teach you who’s in charge yet?” Lloyd Hansen, Bucky’s biggest enemy, asked her with a provocative smile.

She was in absolute agony.

She let oud a loud, pained scream, desperately trying to pull her arm from underneath his huge shoe.

They’d untied her an hour ago after she claimed she needed the bathroom, a guard on her tail as he led her through the abandoned building.

Once inside the toilet, she managed to pick up the upper part of the toilet seat. She gained the guard’s attention with a scream, going down on his head with the heavy ceramic piece as soon as he opened the door to check on her.

She managed to run as far as the hallway of the floor she was in before a very angry Lloyd grabbed her. She surprised him with a harsh slap across the face, taking the chance to run again when he froze for a second.

Lloyd got even angrier, stretching his leg and knocking one of her feet off the ground, making her fall over. He walked over her crawling body and evilly stepped on her right wrist.

“I can’t wait to kill you,” Lloyd said, not taking his foot off before he heard a snap and a loud screech from her.

Lloyd got hold of her hair, dragging her all the way back to the room where she was previously tied up.

He tied her to the same chair again, only this time one arm got the ropes while the other was left to redden and swell.

Now she was here, on the same chair, throwing empty threats as she’s almost given up hope that Bucky might find her.

“Aww, did you hear that, boys? Little slut right here is worried for our good,” Lloyd mocked her, laughter erupting and filling the room in response.

“You’re not getting out of here, babygirl,” he spat, his voice laced with venom, “this is where you die.”

“Let me go. I won’t say it again.” Her voice almost shivered with her heart at the end of her warning.

She was scared, and in so much pain, but she couldn’t let it show. She wouldn't even cry and was sweating like crazy from the ache in her dangling wrist. She was Bucky Barnes’ girl.

“You’re making the demands now? Not even a “please” to persuade me?” Lloyd moved his face closer to hers, slowly pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear with a smirk, “or do I have to heat you a bottle to get to meet your polite side?”

She felt her face go hot as her eyes filled with tears and she couldn’t stop herself from spitting in the bastard’s face, “fuck you”.

Next thing she knew was his rough hand slapping down hard on her cheek, making her go dizzy. Blood trickled out of her nose and down to her lips right after and she couldn’t hold back her tears this time.

She was tired. Terrified. She needed Bucky.

“Your filthy mouth isn’t anything short of your boyfriend’s, but don’t worry, if you don’t know how to be respectful to your masters I have ways to teach you, and believe me, I can’t wait to start your lessons.” Hansen smirked at her wrist before spitting back at her and leaving with everyone else.

She cried harder than she has ever before, tears and blood mixing. Her body was shivering and her arms aching from being tied up in the most uncomfortable position and smashed down under Lloyd’s boot.

There was no way out for here, was there?

She knew she was done for and she didn’t have any last wishes except for getting to tell Bucky that she loved him and that she will never stop loving him one last time.

She couldn’t even pay her pain or blood any attention when all she could think about was Bucky and how he would have never let anything like that happen to her.

She remembered his soft smile that only she got to meet. The way he’d lean forward to engulf her in a hug momentarily warmed her before the iciness of the empty room made her shiver again.

She didn’t dare linger on Bucky, however.

It’s been exactly 3 days and 21 hours since his angel left him and he still couldn’t believe it.

She left him. She left and now she was here in some old factory under some asshole’s mercy. She couldn’t escape the situation she was in no matter how hard she tried. She couldn’t give her mind any kind of relief. There was none. Before she realized, her head was falling forward and she was getting a temporary break from reality.

“Bucky, are you o—” Sam cut himself off when his sight landed on his best friend’s face.

Bucky’s eyes were red with yet to be shed tears, again.

His car never reached her grandma’s because his men were murdered on the way. His angel was no where to be found and neither was Bucky’s will to live.

He kept telling himself that it wasn’t true, that she was at work; that she would eventually come back and sleep in his arms again.

However, she didn’t even call. Didn’t even look at his multiple texts. She really was missing and Bucky couldn’t face it. Between denial and heart wrenching pain, he buried himself 9 feet under.

He’s looked everywhere, asked everyone, but still couldn’t find her. It was as if she’s disappeared, turned to air.

Bucky has deserted their bedroom ever since she walked out of the mansion, the bed still as messy as she left it after she dragged the sheets down with her packed bag. Every time Bucky would enter the room he would see her leaving him, so he’d stopped. That couldn’t be his last memory of her. He slept on the couch in his office now, if at all.

And soon enough, the Bucky he used to be when she was around was dead and another angrier, more violent and very impatient Bucky had replaced him. He was always mad, at everyone and everything. And he was drinking every night, sitting on his bar for as long as he could, just to get himself hammered enough to fall in a deep unconsciousness where he didn’t have her scared eyes invading his dreams.

Sam was seriously worried for him, but there was nothing he could do; no advice he could offer. Nothing would bring that Bucky back as long as his angel was gone.

Bucky’s wallowing and Sam’s overthinking were interrupted when Bucky’s phone rang, vibrating on the ceramic floor. Bucky quickly crawled over to it, hardly believing his eyes when he saw her name in the place of the caller ID.

“Angeră?” he answered, his voice hoarse from staying silent for too long.

“Awww, you call her angel?” the voice on the other side mocked.

“Who the fuck is this?” Bucky asked, standing up slowly as his anger and worry forced him to sober up.

“You know too damn well who this is,” Lloyd answered, his smile evident in his tone as he knew he had Bucky by the throat.

“Where is she?” Bucky asked immediately.

“Tied up somewhere cold.”

“I swear on my life, if you touch her—”

“Relax, she can take a few scratches,” he replied, chuckling as if it was a joke.

“You son of a bitch!” Bucky shouted, losing his mind at the mere image of his angel being hurt.

“I’d watch my mouth if I were you, Barnes,” he snarled confidently.

“What do you want?” Bucky asked through his teeth, just wanting to get to his girl as quickly as possible.

“Let me hear her voice.”

“No,” Lloyd chuckled.

“I wanna destroy you.” Hansen laughed.

“Let her go. She has nothing to do with this.” Bucky tried his best not to sound desperate but it was obvious that he was begging for his girl’s safety.

“That’s where you’re wrong, B. She has everything to do with this.” Lloyd walked into the room where she was with a smug smile.

“Let her go.” please

“If you sound so distraught just because I’d hogged her for a couple of days, imagine how you’ll be when I erase her off the face of the earth,” Hansen said, laughing at the thought of hurting Bucky this bad.

Her face toughened up at the realization that it was Bucky on the phone.

“If you do as much as touch a hair on her head, I’m gonna kill you and everyone you know,” Bucky promised, his heart hammering in his chest as he hastily started moving.

“I might’ve broken a bone or two, but that’s only because she was a bad girl.”

“You’re dead, Hansen. Fucking dead!” Bucky promised, throwing the bottle he was drinking from across the room.

“We’ll be waiting with popcorn.” He hung up on Bucky, laughing.

“He’s gonna kill you.” She smiled once he hung up, making Lloyd grab her hair.

She hissed, trying not to show she was in pain.

“Not if I kill him first, angeră.” Lloyd spat, throwing her head forward before leaving the room.

She was horrified at the thought of anything bad happening to Bucky, but she willed her heart to trust in him. She had no time to ponder but she was actually proud of the fact that Bucky could so easily end this awful, evil man and she couldn’t wait for him to do just that.

Still, she waited for him. Something inside of her told her Bucky would never abandon her, not even to death. So she waited. Waited with the longing of all the lovers that ever were until longing had exhausted her.

It was like a slow motion dream. Doors being kicked down, guns being fired and her Bucky entering the room with a man’s body held in his left fist by the neck.

Instead, Bucky found Hansen and smacked him so hard with his metal hand that a tooth flew out. He slapped him again and his nose was bleeding. They made eye contact one more time and she noticed the difference for the first time. That wasn’t Bucky. It wasn’t her Bucky. His eyes still softened for her but the hint of revenge in them was more dominant.

He doesn’t even talk; doesn’t negotiate. He doesn’t even ask for her to be released. He doesn’t need to.

His men were getting everything done. His only mission was to look for her now. His eyes met hers but he didn’t start walking towards her like she’d expected he would.

She thought she would be afraid meeting Bucky again after what she’d witnessed him do, but she actually didn’t. Not even a tiny bit.

She was rather happy, the feeling that she was safe again warming up her body so much that she’d started sobbing.

It was like no matter how long they were away from each other, they were still together, never estranged from one another.

Bucky was on his 40th slap/punch on the man’s bloody face when he noticed her crying. He temporarily threw the man’s tired body on the ground and rushed to his girl.

He kneeled before her shaking body, wanting nothing but to make sure she wasn’t hurt.

And she was.

She looked up and could still see the coldness in his eyes despite hers being blurred by tears.

“I missed you. Is my Bucky okay?” She asked, her voice drained but not scared like Bucky had feared and expected.

“Let’s get you home, angeră,” he replied, saving his answer for now as he noticed the finger marks on her cheek.

She nodded desperately, her tied hand reaching for him despite being behind her back.

“Stop right there,” Lloyd said, crocking his gun at Bucky.

“Bucky,” she whimpered, eyes glued to her man, her anchor.

“E în regulă, angera meu, (it’s okay, my angel)" Bucky replied, getting closer to her and sticking to her side.

“No, it’s not. He’s lying to you. Just like he’s lied to you about everything else,” the man chuckled.

“Shut up,” she whispered, trying to calm down her breathing.

“Give it up, Hansen. I beat you. Again and for the last time. You’re done.” Bucky racked the slide of his gun.

“He never loved you. Do you even know who he is most of the time?” Lloyd continued, not willing to give up until Bucky was reduced to nothing before him.

“Shut up,” she repeated, wishing her hands were free so that she could cover her ears with them.

“Do you have any idea about the other side of this man you gave yourself to you poor little thin—”

“Shut up!” She shouted with all her might, “don’t speak about him like that.”

“Do you even know what you’re defending?” Hansen yelled at her with a crazy, bloody smile on his face.

“I know,” she answered calmly, “I know everything.”

Bucky looked at her in surprise, not believing what he just heard. There was no way she knew. How would she know? How would she choose to stay if she actually knew?

“Oh so you know about frosty over here?” Hansen smirked, pointing to his head.

“That’s enough, Hansen,” Bucky warned, barely controlling himself.

“I do,” she answered once more, her answer shocking Bucky yet again.

“Angel?”

“It’s okay, Bucky. I promise.” She sincerely promised, making it hard for Bucky not to tear up in the middle of the room.

“Aww, how sweet—” Hansen cooed and in a second 3 of Bucky’s bullets were in his head, neck and chest before he could say anything else.

She gasped, closing her eyes and turning her face away from the body as it collapsed on the floor with a thud.

She didn’t notice that Hansen had landed a shot at Bucky before he collapsed and Bucky didn’t even flinch as a bullet literally made it through his right shoulder. He didn’t feel the pain. He didn’t care about anything but his angel.

She was the only thing he could see and hear. Her wounds were his pain more than his own.

Bucky wordlessly kneeled down and untied her quickly. His gaze was glued to her wrists for a second before he rubbed the one that wasn’t swollen with his smoother thumb.

“What happened?” Bucky asked, referring to her other wrist.

“I'm gonna need a doctor to look at it.” Was all she gave him for an answer.

He silently opened his arms for her and she threw herself in them without an ounce of hesitation, crying more now that she was home.

She was so scared she wouldn’t get to feel like this again. She let herself let go. She then closed her eyes and finally succumbed to the cozy darkness now that she was safe.

Instead, Roseanne looked at her with a teary smile, “welcome back, miss.”

She lost all sense of consciousness that she didn’t hear Bucky shoot the man’s dead body a fourth and a fifth time with her in his arms as he took another look at her wrists.

When she opened her eyes again, she was back in Bucky’s bed, but Bucky wasn’t by her side.

“Roseanne, I missed you so much,” she replied, unable to stop her own tears.

“Thank goodness you’re okay,” Roseanne said, breaking the hug to let her rest her back.

She invited Roseanne for a hug with her good arm as she noticed the other was in what looked like a cast.

Lloyd had broken her wrist.

“Mr. Barnes is in his office,” she told her while adjusting the pillow behind her when she noticed her eyes roaming the spacious room.

“Is he mad?” she asked, more tears gathering in her tired eyes.

“At himself, maybe.” Roseanne shrugged politely.

“Please help me go to him, Roseanne.”

“One more thing though.” Roseanne chew on her lip.

“What’s wrong?”

He didn’t know what he would’ve done with himself if something had happened to her and he kept blaming himself as he sat there with his right arm in a sling.

“Mr. Barnes has been shot.”

Bucky didn’t care to look when the door to his office opened, not knowing that she was awake and too busy wiping his tears of regret.

He’s been like this since he got her home and in his bed again. His tears were unstoppable now that he saw the results of his lifestyle on the one girl he chose and held closest to his heart. In fact, he cried more every time he took a look at her angelic figure tiredly sleeping in his large bed as the doctor patched up her broken wrist.

She was so small, so pure and so so good for this world. Her face was fainter and the spark was gone and he was sure Lloyd didn’t feed her. The fading finger marks she had on her cheek, the rope burns around her wrists and ankles and the cast around her forearm slashed new wounds at his heart.

“Bucky,” she called out faintly, her head and body still aching a little, heart dropping when she saw him with his arm hanging, “are you okay?”

He stood up and helped her sit in his chair, not sure if it was okay for him to carry her and sit her on his desk like he usually would.

He hastily wiped his eyes with his hand to look at his baby.

“Hi, angel,” he tried to say with a smile but his voice cracked as another tear escaped down his red cheek.

She surprised him by using his chair as a step to get on top of his desk, pointing to the chair for him to sit back down.

Bucky was on eye level with the marks on her ankles as she settled her bare feet on his lap.

What was he going to say now that she was awake? And most importantly, what was she going to say?

“My Bucky,” she could recognize the difference between this man and the man who started her rescue right away.

Bucky was stunned to see she could see it despite everything. He didn’t want her to ever find out about that side of him and it killed him even more that she caught the difference. How on earth did she find something like this out?

“All yours, angel.” He tried to compose himself, for her.

She couldn’t bare seeing him like this. It was like she’s forgotten about everything that happened before this very moment and all she could do was sit up and hold his face to lovingly wipe his sorrows away with her left hand.

It was enough time away from Bucky.

“I’m okay, Bucky. I’m okay,” she tried to reassure him, only making him cry harder as the dam broke when she rubbed his shoulder.

“Iarta-ma, iubita mea. Te rog. Iarta-ma. (forgive me, my love. Please, forgive me)" He sobbed, moving his lips to the palms of her hands to leave wet kisses all over the reddened skin.

“I’m okay, I swear,” she repeated, not knowing what to do or say.

“I forgive you. Please don’t cry; we’re good,” she said it to him in the kindest tone like it was the easiest thing to say.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you give me the chance to. Please, love,” Bucky cried like a child in her lap.

No, he couldn’t even remember a time when he cried like this as a child despite all that he’d gone through. He didn’t care though. He was going to do whatever it took for his angel’s forgiveness. He disappointed her, broke her heart and risked her life. Bucky was going to beg until the end of time if he could.

Bucky shook his head, crying harder, “no, you’re good. You’re too good to me, angel. Too good. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you. Never did.”

It sent a knife to his heart that she still sincerely called him her Bucky after everything she’s been through just because he was in her life; because he was selfish enough to bring her into his without a care.

He was still beating himself up over it. And how could he not when everything terrible that’s ever happened to her had happened because of him? He traumatized her more than anyone ever could have and he’s gotten her hurt time and time again.

This girl who’s made him feel like he could stand against the whole world all by himself with no fear just because she called him her lover. This girl who taught him loyalty, kindness and love and was now teaching him forgiveness. This girl was sitting before him with a broken wrist and heart telling him not to worry about it.

“Don’t say that, please. I’m alive right now thanks to you, my Bucky.” Her own tears rolled down her cheeks before she could stop them.

She loved him more than anything and wished she could make him see that. Oh how she was dying to make him see how safe and loved he made her feel.

“You mean you were taken and hurt thanks to me.” Bucky casted his eyes down, too ashamed to even look at her marked face.

“Bucky—”

“I get it if you still wanna leave me. And I will let you. I would never make you do anything you don't want. I just want you to know that I never lied to you about my love for you. You’ve been and still are the realist thing in my life, angel. Everything I said and did was true. I adore you.”

“Bucky, I—”

“I know it’s selfish to choose to speak about this now, but I’m afraid you’d leave before I get to tell you how in love with you I really am,” he sniffled, wiping his eyes again in vain before looking up at her, “I would die without you. Your love owns me, heart and soul. But.. if leaving me is what you choose.. and if leaving me will make you safe, I will accept it. I just need you to know that I’ve never lied to you. Angel, you are my whole life. You’re my one and only. I belong to you. I’m yours and I will die yours.”

She was speechless, too taken aback to stop herself from crying harder. Bucky’s never opened up to her about his feelings before. Not like this.

“Bucky, I love you,” she managed to whisper before he cut her off again. Before she could tell him that she felt the same way, that she was all his and will forever be his, that only him ruled over her heart.

“You don’t have to say that, angel—”

“Let me speak,” she demanded, her palm cupping his wet cheek as she grabbed him a tissue from his desk.

He nodded, biting his lip and bracing himself for the harshest ‘but’, preparing to get his heart ripped out of his chest.

“I don’t wanna leave you,” was the first thing she could get herself to say, desperately wanting to soothe his thumping heart.

Bucky’s eyes filled with more tears because he knew he didn’t deserve her.

“I forgive you. I want to tolerate this dangerous life because it lets me have you; be with you, which is the only place I ever wanna be.” She took a deep breath, her own tears continuing to fall as she wiped his.

“Baby,” Bucky whispers, hating to see her tears yet again.

“I knew you weren’t the nicest guy to others and I knew your line of business wasn’t the safest either. I just— it freaked me out when I actually got to see you inside of it. I couldn’t believe my eyes.”

Bucky lowered his head in shame again.

“In my head, especially when little, you’re incapable of hurting. In my eyes, you’re safety, Bucky. You’re home.” She brought his eyes back to hers with a hand on his cheek.

“I’m sorry, love,” Bucky was quick to apologize but she shook her head in reply.

“It might take me some time to get used to everything now that I know everything. But it didn’t affect my love for you, Bucky. Not one bit. I lied. I was so scared I would die without getting to tell you that. I still loved you more than ever even in that moment with your fist against another man’s cheek, and I guess that scared me even more. Because it was unlike the me I thought I knew. But this me, right here, is madly in love with you and she doesn’t care about anything other than being by your side for ever.”

“Angel,” Bucky sobbed, holding her hand to his lips, leaving appreciative, wet kisses on her palm, “you won’t regret it, baby, I promise. This is the last time you get hurt. I would die before I let anything like this ever happen to you again.”

“I know, and I trust you, my Bucky. If you’d give me time and if you’ll have me, I wanna be with you every moment of my life, forever.” She couldn’t not throw herself inside his arms, needing the closeness to reassure her this was real.

“I love you so much,” he whispered, holding her on his lap as tight as he possibly could.

“Lucky me,” she whispered in his shoulder.

Bucky felt himself coming alive again at the smell of jasmines in her hair and the feel of her warm body in his hold. She was a piece missing from him and now that she was back, he wasn’t going to waste a second without worshiping the steps she walked.

“I know I might need a while, but that doesn’t change anything. I still love you with my whole heart, Bucky,” she reassured, squeezing him to her even more.

“Take all the time you need, angel. I’ll be right here. I’ll wait forever if I have to.”

“Promise me something though.”

“Anything.”

“No more killing people on my behalf.”

“What if they have a gun pointed at you?”

“Okay, only in that case then because it’s self-defense.”

“I promise.” Bucky smiled, sliding her hair behind her ear before kissing her forehead.

She pressed her forehead to his with a smile, “thank you.”

“We’re injury buddies now,” she joked when they pull away making Bucky laugh out loud for the first time in days.

“Does it hurt, angel?”

"Mine doesn't hurt, you?" He kissed her covered wrist gently.

"Does it hurt?"

They both asked at the same time, making each other laugh.

“Not as much anymore,” she replies, not wanting to remember how much it hurt when she was tied up in the cold room.

“Let’s eat so you could take your pain meds.” Bucky offered her his metal hand and she took it with her good one with a content smile.

Everything was going to be okay again. She knew it. Her hand was back in Bucky's and there was nothing their love wouldn't be able to pass. This might not be the Bucky she got in a relationship with, but it was the Bucky she wanted and was going to continue it with.

He was still and was always going to be her bucky.

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hoseokshobagi · 4 months

Text

† Reborn in Sin ⸸ | Sneak peak | PJM

† Reborn in Sin ⸸ sneak peak

✞PAIRING: demon!jimin x fem!reader

✞ 【SUMMARY】: for years jimin was your constant and loyal companion in the church, a shining example of humility and compassion. but when he was tragically taken from the world before he could experience life, his heart was filled with anger and resentment. and so, in a moment of weakness, he struck a deal with the devil, trading his soul for a second chance at life. but when he returned, he was no longer your kind and devoted boy you once knew.

✞ 『GENRE』: dark ✟ supernatural ✟ fantasy ✟ angst ✟ smut

✞ RATING: 18+ / minors do not interact

✞ WORD COUNT: loading...

✞ [WARNINGS/TAGS] : dead dove, dark, death, manipulation, corruption (kink?), church & religion, blasphemy & desecration, [oral(m) - not with reader, headpusher jimin, face fucking, spit play], dirty talk, humiliation, degradation, dubcon, public fingering, exhibitionism, sexual "nightmares" & hallucinations, mind games, jimin is the worst & the BIGGEST warning!!!!, oral(f), cunt drunk jimin, unprotected sex, rough sex, orgasm denial, edging, overstimulation, unrealistic amount of cum lmao, cum play, betrayal, mind break

✞ NOTE: hi beautiful people!!! this story was written for the @btsfests writing fest. actually this is the first time i publish my writing and omg ahcbdjs i'm so nervous while writing this note. i always wrote for myself and my closest friends but thanks to bts fests and their never ending encouraging words i decided to show off my writing. this little part is the reason why i started writing this whole story and i hope you'll like it just as much as i enjoyed writing every word. :] this demon jimin is the most cunty & selfish character i've written so far so yall better prepare yourselves ajfnsjxnsjs

english is not my native language, but despite that i'll write and communicate in english. please if you see an error in my writing or grammar lmk!! <3

my dearest beta read: @liveyun 🐢♡

COMING SOON

❗this is the darkest fic i've ever written so please read all the warnings before reading❗

The delicate chimes of the church bell echoed softly through the cavernous rafters, casting an unsettling shadow over Jimin’s mind. Like ghostly whispers emanating from the very walls and pillars of the church, the sounds seemed to taunt him. Whispering to him that he no longer belonged in this sacred space.

He couldn’t believe how he used to devour Father Seokjin’s every word, eagerly drinking up his sermons like it was the finest wine he ever tasted. In this very church, where he had spent countless hours sitting in the pews, Jimin felt like a stranger in the world he once called home.

He looked to his left and gazed upon the sweet, delicate flower — the very reason why he was there. Innocence shining in your eyes, your eyelashes fluttered like the softest butterfly wings. Sitting next to him with hands clasped tightly together in your lap, you looked as pure as new snow, listening to the mass.

Oh, how much he forced himself to resist the urge to reach out and ruin you right then and there. To feel the delicate petals of your innocence as they crumpled beneath his fingers. But he was going to do so slowly, savoring every moment of your fall from grace.

So, he grit his teeth and forced himself to endure the priest’s words and the choir’s music, at least, for a while.

Despite his best efforts, this place was as dull and lifeless as the stones that made up its walls. He spent half of his life trapped within these confines, he knew every creak of the floorboards, every flicker of light, every word and phrase of the Bible that was engraved in his mind, the product of countless wasted years.

Jimin raised a hand to his face, tracing each perfect curve of his newly manicured nails, scrutinizing them from every angle. He raised an eyebrow in anticipation, marveling at Hoseok’s handiwork.

He couldn’t wait to make another deal with the bastard later.

You noticed his attention was drifting and Jimin’s reverie was broken by a gentle tap on his shoulder, causing his thoughts to come crashing down around him like a house of cards. He turned to see your confused eyes peering up at him, your delicate lips murmuring a soft “pray”.

He couldn’t help but mentally roll his eyes. Oh, you were so annoying. He was going to make you pay for all the stress and frustration that he had to go through and endure because of you.

Jimin lowered his head and with a deep breath, closed his eyes, pretending as if he was lost in prayer, his mind far from it. Wandering anywhere but there.

As you finally turned back to offer your own prayers, he couldn’t resist and raised his eyes, glancing back at you.

And he was so fucked.

You were a sight to behold, more divine than the sacred paintings that adorned the walls of this church.

As your eyes drifted shut, your lashes like feathers of a sleeping bird, delicately brushed the curves of your eyes. The soft radiance of the lights danced upon your face, creating a tender veil of shadows that caressed your skin.

Your lips moved in silent devotion as you murmured in such sincerity, clutching the Holy Book tightly in your hands. And he swears, he could feel his dick twitch just at the sight.

You were so breakable, so vulnerable and so fucking beautiful.

Yeah, he was so fucked. So lost in you.

Park’s burning desires had been building to a crescendo in the last few days, a boiling point that seemed to threaten to engulf him whole. He felt like his longing for you was an aching fire that was on the verge of exploding. The mere sight of you at the church was a powerful trigger to him, fanning the flames for this fire.

And he thought it was ridiculous.

He couldn’t believe how he couldn’t control himself, his body yearning for yours, needing to stain the purity of your grace, to spread his sin all around your soul. To corrupt the sacredness of who you were with the foulness of who he had become.

He glanced around and took in the sights and sounds of the church, noticing that everyone was enraptured by the mass. Their focus was solely on the priest at the cathedral, their attention directed nowhere else.

With a subtle smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, he slipped closer to you and your sweet scent filled his nostrils; making him feel intoxicated. He knew exactly what he had to do; a little play won’t hurt anyone.

Jimin’s touch was like a gentle caress of a summer breeze, soft and tender, caressing your skin like the lightest of kisses. Your eyes flicked open, searching for the source of such unexpected warmth.

And there he was, with his legs crossed, - his gaze fixed on you with such intensity that always made your cheeks warm for some reason – one arm resting comfortably on his elbow on the church pew, the other continuing to idly play with the soft fabric of your long skirt.

You never wore anything revealing; preferring modesty over anything else, however this time, you felt utterly exposed as his eyes roamed over your form like that. Jimin always enjoyed this, stripping away your layers one by one, revealing the true you that lay beneath.

Slowly he drew near, his aura spreading like a thick mist, wrapping around you. The scent of his cologne swirled around as his body pressed against yours, his knee gently nudging yours. His warm breath brushed against your cheeks, like the caress of a dead night.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing. Keep praying." You looked at his hand, still playing with your skirt, unsure of what to say. Jimin’s voice was calm and soft, yet, there was something about his dark eyes that made you feel uneasy. Like he was biding his time, planning his next move.

It clearly made you uncomfortable, but you were too naive to say anything, too afraid to speak your mind, not to mention that you were sure Jimin would never do anything wrong, so you turned back again and closed your eyes to pray.

But what you didn’t know was that you were already entangled by the snake’s coils; Jimin waited for the moment when you would break. He was so curious, so eager to see just how far you would go, how much you would endure before you finally stepped up and told him to stop.

Would you wrench his hand away? Would you yell at him? Would you make a scene in the middle of the church? He knew you wouldn’t, knew you were just too gentle and too timid to disrespect your favorite little church.

And so, he kept pushing, pushing your boundaries and invading your personal space, inch by inch, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in the wake of his touch.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, trying desperately to break free from his touch, but he only tightened his grip, making your heart race with a mixture of fear and uncertainty.

"Jimin, can you please stop?" Oh, that was it. Your question was hardly above a whisper, as though afraid of you would be heard by those around you. The snake’s grip finally ensnared his delicate, little flower and he had no intention of stopping.

„Keep it down. You wouldn’t wanna disturb the praying souls now, would you?”

A devilish smirk played on his lips, eyes like black holes bearing down at you. His voice was like honey dripping from his lips; so soft and alluring. A stark contrast to the real meaning behind his words and actions. He continued to run his hand up your thigh, pushing your long skirt higher and higher until it was bunched around your waist.

"Jimin, st—" His other hand slithered around from the back of your neck, forcefully covering your mouth, silencing any words that wanted to escape your lips. Whatever you tried to say it came out muffled by his hand, leaving you feeling panicked and completely helpless.

You grasped at the material like a lifeline, desperate to pull it back down, but Jimin’s arm was like a steel barricade, preventing you from covering yourself. You felt trapped, your body burning with the shame of exposure.

"I said keep your mouth shut. We don’t want others to see you like this, do we?"

Your breath caught in your throat, unable to escape as the fear of being discovered and shamed in front of everyone took over. All you could do was fix your gaze on Jimin’s intense, brooding eyes, silently pleading for mercy with your own desperate ones. Ah, so pretty for him.

As you gazed into the depths of his dark eyes, the windows to his no longer existing a soul, you revealed a darkness that engulfed you, and you knew there was no escape.

You were at his mercy, and he had none.

Jimin’s pupils dilated at the sight, your skin was soft and flawless, causing a shiver to run down his spine as he gently touched you. The delicate fabric of your white panties teased him, giving him just a glimpse of what was hidden underneath.

With a playful twinkle in his eyes, he lazily played with the tiny, little, pink bow adorning the center of your panties. His actions were a clear taunt, a display of the control he had over you and your vulnerabilities.

It was clear you wanted to push him away, to scold him, yell at him, but he knew the fear of causing a scene in church held you back. You tried to glance around nervously, hoping no one would notice what was happening.

The world seemed to come to a standstill, the only thing that existed was the fast, thumping beat of your heart as Jimin’s hand slithered closer and closer to the place where it had no business being. You felt trapped, your body frozen, unable to break free as if you were held captive by a coiled serpent; its grip tightening with each struggle. The sound of your unsteady breaths filled the air, the only thing grounding you in reality, that, and the heat from his touch, because this serpent was crafted from the finest satin.

„Shh, baby, it’s okay. It’s okay, keep praying so God won’t mind, yeah?”

His words made you paralyzed, like a spell, breaking you down. Words like those should never have left the lips of the kind and caring Jimin that you thought you knew. Your mind was reeling with shock and pain, struggling to make sense of how someone you had trusted completely could suddenly become a stranger. Jimin’s actions were like a knife to your heart, a stab that pierced through the trust you had placed in him.

With the grace of a feather dancing on skin, Jimin traced his fingers over your clothed clit, making you tremble beneath his touch. A soft gasp escaped your lips, your eyes widening as you felt the weight of the moment sinking in.

And he chuckled softly, a low rumble that only you could hear, taking your response as a cue, he increased the pressure. His skilled fingers now applied a firm yet tender touch, coaxing your body to new heights of pleasure, and your body tingled in response, betraying you by a throbbing ache that grew stronger with every touch.

As the ripples of pleasure swirled within you, you tried to pull back, to resist the sin that was happening in the very place where you sought solace and salvation. The guilt gnawed at your soul, the snake’s venom that seeped into every crevice, tainting the flower’s beauty.

And yet, Jimin reveled in your pain, basking in the darkness of your suffering as he watched the guilt consume you whole. The venom of your remorse was a feast for his senses; the holy wine, the sweetest elixir to be savored with every devious sip.

"Look, what do we have in here." He pressed his thumb against the dark spot on your panties, causing you to shiver. For him, the sensations of your wetness seeping through the fabric was like an euphoric rush, the sweet nectar of his delicate flower, intoxicating and irresistible.

Heat spread across your cheeks, horror and shame washing over you at his words, you shook your head, tried to move, tried to tell him to stop, but you found yourself lost in his eyes, searching for any sign of the person you once knew. But all you saw was darkness, a void that seemed to swallow you whole.

"Deny it if you want, baby, but aren’t you a nasty girl? You’re fucking soaking."

And it was true. Your body felt like it was betraying you, and you were mortified. He ignited a fire within you that you couldn’t deny. A soft cry slipped from your lips, but you couldn’t bear to face him, knowing that you were powerless in his grasp.

You were unable to believe what was happening. As someone who had always followed the Catholic faith and held its teachings in high regard, there you were, in this sacred place, allowing something so forbidden to take place.

But as his fingers slipped under the fabric of your panties, your mind went blank. The back of Jimin’s hand clung to your sticky panties as his fingers found their way down to your folds, the feeling making him shiver.

„Fuck— you’re so wet, can’t wait to feel you around me.”

You squeezed your lips together under Jimin’s hand to keep from making any noise, your eyes squeezed shut, tears threatened to spill down your cheeks as his wet fingers continued to rub and spread your folds apart, smearing your sticky arousal all over your cunt.

„Shh, this won’t make you a sinner baby, it’s okay. You won’t mind just one finger inside, yeah?” His middle finger probed at your entrance, teasing it, making it wetter still, as he slowly pushed in.

„Y-yeah baby— just one finger?” He teased and removed his finger, making you clench around thin air, and Jimin swears, the feeling made him twitch inside his pants. Teasing you – or himself, it didn’t matter anymore – he plunged back in, tauntingly slow.

Jimin’s eyes rolled to the back of his skull, his hard dick pressing firmly against his pants, yearning for release. To him this is how true Paradise felt like, the feeling of your silk walls wrapped around his digit.

He was about to lose it.

He bottomed his finger out inside you, knuckle deep, until his small 13 tattoo on his wrist met with your lower abdomen.

But he craved more. Fuck, how much he wanted to slam you against the pew and spread your thighs wide open, stretching your pretty little pussy right out with his dick. And who could blame him with the way your cunt gripped on his one single digit like that, dripping wet and sinfully warm.

But he couldn’t— not now. And it made him crazy.

You sank into the pew, your body trembling as he started to move his finger, his other hand still covering your mouth to keep you quiet. Every part of you was on fire, your mind and body in a constant battle between desire and shame. You were supposed to stop him, to push him away, but all you could manage was tremble and it made your eyes water.

It was a mixture of remorse and the burning desire pounding between your thighs; something you had never experienced before and something you knew you shouldn’t have felt at all in this holy place. And more likely you should’ve never clenched harder around Jimin’s finger when you heard the small shudder in each breath he took.

"Ahh baby—" The faint, breathy little whimper shattered his voice. "fuck.. you’re so perfect… so f-fucking perfect."

Your heart pounded in your chest, your breath shallow and ragged, mirroring the rhythm of his finger. With his warm breath tickling your ear, his whispered words were barely audible, but they still managed to send shivers down your spine.

"Ooh, h-how I wish to see this perfect fucking pussy."

Jimin couldn’t take his eyes off of you as he watched your face intently, committing every single feature and expression to his memory. The way your brows were furrowed in pleasure, the way you fought to keep your eyes open due to the sensitivity.

He couldn’t help but admire the way your chest rose and fell with each ragged breath, the way you tried to stifle your moans under his hand, and the way your juices flowed from your aching cunt.

You were a captivating sight, sinful and alluring, flesh heated and glistening with arousal, and he knew you couldn’t deny it even though you tried. Your trembling body and the slickness on his fingers were evidence of the truth.

He slowly added a second finger, stretching you open further and moving faster, his fingers stroking your sensitive spot, sending waves of pleasure through you. With every stroke, you felt your body weakening, and your thoughts began to succumb to the corrupting pleasure.

Despite your protests, your body responded eagerly, arching towards him in a desperate plea for more; seeking more of the exquisite pleasure he was giving you.

You never felt so conflicted in your entire life, your mind was a battlefield; torn between your beliefs and the undeniable pleasure that was now coursing through your veins. Every creak of the old wooden pews felt like a judgment, a cruel reminder that you were committing a sin that would send you to the depths of damnation.

But when Jimin serendipitously grazed your swollen clit with his thumb, your mind went blank. You’d lost it.

Your hips involuntarily jerked against his hand, unable to contain the overwhelming pleasure. You gritted your teeth, determined to keep your cries of ecstasy at bay, but it was a dead effort as you squirmed and moaned, muffled by his hand covering your mouth.

"Fuck— Don’t moan like that, you’re getting too loud, keep quiet."

But you couldn’t. It was as if your head was spinning, unable to focus on anything except the pleasure. The way he slid his fingers in and out of you, his thumb perfectly stimulating your clit, it was too much.

Despite your efforts, you couldn’t contain the small moans that escaped your lips. The church was now just a blur in the background, the stained glass windows casting kaleidoscopic patterns on the floor.

"Shit, baby, keep fucking quiet or do you want me to slip those fucking panties off and stuff them in your mouth, hm?" Jimin’s whispered words sent shivers down your spine, making you clasp around his fingers right back in.

"Y-yeah, you want that baby? My nasty girl, s-so good... so fucking perfect." He moved his fingers faster, his thumb circling deliciously on your clit, building up the pace for your climax, your body crying out for release. And oh, how he reveled in it, savoring every moment, every sensation as his little flower finally opened its petals to him.

"You’re so close, baby, f-fuck— just let go, let me take you there."

As Jimin’s fingers brought you closer and closer to the brink, you couldn’t help but give in, feeling all the guilt and shame wash away in the face of the intense pleasure you were feeling.

„Ooh, fuck— Y-yeah, baby, go on. Come all over my fucking fingers.”

Just as you were about to reach the peak, a sudden thud broke through the lustful haze. Your tear-filled eyes fluttered open and you glanced up to the top of the church’s gallery, where you saw the organ player, Mr. Min sprawled on the ground at the bottom of the stairs, amidst a sea of fallen notes.

In that moment, time seemed to stand still as your eyes met his, and you saw the shock and disbelief on his once serene face.

Your heart plummeted like a falling star, sinking into the depths of your stomach as you realized what you must look like to Mr. Min. Your cheeks burned with the heat of a thousand suns as you met his gaze, his face a canvas of flushed embarrassment, crushing you with shame and guilt.

For in the eyes of Mr. Min, you were no other, but a sinner caught in the act of sin in the house of the divine. And as the notes of the holy music lay scattered at his feet, you couldn’t help but wonder if they were a reflection of your shattered innocence.

Mr. Min quickly ascended the stairs to the organ, his emotions were in disarray, a tumultuous blend of arousal and embarrassment. With each step, he tried to push away the image of what he had just seen, but it lingered like a haunting melody in his mind.

His cheeks burned with shame, but he couldn’t help stealing a glance at you before he reached the top of the stairs, his feline eyes burning you whole.

Exposed and vulnerable, you were unable to look at the organ player in the eyes anymore. You closed your eyes tight in an attempt to block out the intensity of his gaze. But even with your eyes shut, you could feel his feline eyes looking down at you.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the image, Jimin’s skillful fingers never faltered to move inside you, your body feeling like it was exploding. A soft whimper escaped your lips, which got silenced by his firm grasp.

With each second you felt yourself surrendering to the overwhelming ecstasy.

As you teetered on the edge, ready to fall into the abyss of pleasure, you were suddenly jolted back to reality, finding yourself next to Jimin who was kneeling humbly on the wooden pew of the church, praying.

With eyes wide open, heated cheeks and heavy breathing you gazed at your own clasped hands on the pew.

Was this all in your head? How could you have let your mind wander to sinful desires in the sacred walls of the church?

Jimin’s innocent devotion to his God only amplified your own guilt, making you feel like a fallen angel in the presence of his pure soul.

Jimin couldn’t help but smirk, he bit the inside of his cheek, but it didn’t help hiding it. He moved his clasped hands toward his mouth to hide the devilish smirk that appeared on his lips.

For he knew the power he held over you, the power to seduce and corrupt your very being. And with each passing day he was one step closer to claiming your body and soul for his own.

And as you sat there, lost in a whirlwind of emotions, Jimin continued to pray, his facade of innocence masking the devilish intentions that lurked within.

#bts scenarios #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #jimin fanfic #jimin scenarios #jimin smut #jimin x reader #park jimin x reader #bts x reader #park jimin fanfic #btsfests #park jimin smut

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massiveharmonytiger · 3 months

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Oliver's monologue is the stuff epic love poems are made of.

Every "I hated him" being over Oliver's villain persona, only to be interrupted by moments that Oliver loved Felix so much that it hurt.

The way he barely gets it out the first time, but keeps saying it over and over as if it will get easier to say if he just keeps repeating it.

Every "I loved him" being over shots of Felix looking happy and beautiful and radiant.

The "I loved him"s being said over the shots of Felix, mostly in the light, and the "I hated him"s being said over shots of Oliver, mostly in the dark.

Felix being synonymous with love, and Oliver, the one who couldn't measure up, the one who had to keep lying about everything and throw away parts of himself in order to measure up, being synonymous with hate.

"I hated him." No, Ollie. You don't. You know you don't. You know there's not one split second that you hated Felix. And that's terrifying.

"You loved him. You loved him. You loved him. By god, you loved him."

You loved him so much that you hated yourself and everyone around you. For not being what Felix wanted. For being what Felix wanted. For coming between you and Felix. For trying to take you away from Felix. For being the reason that you'll never have Felix.

It's everyone that wasn't Felix that you hated, because all your love was reserved only for him and you didn't have a drop to spare for anyone else. And even the torment of feeling this way was a privilege, because it was for Felix. He was worth it. All the tears. All the degradation. All the times you had to cultivate a false image of yourself to avoid losing him.

You loved him so much that he was your whole world.

You loved him so much that it broke you bit by bit until all you could do to survive was become him and his entire family.

Sir John rolling up his sleeves to do business and protect the family legacy. Elspeth with her shallowness and fake niceties. Venetia with her bitterness and selfishness, wanting to play with others' toys. Farleigh with his drug habit and cruel snark.

You'd absorb them all for every moment that they burdened Felix. For every moment they made him act cruel or shallow. For every moment they made him justify them to other people. For every moment they made him unhappy.

So that only pure Felix would remain. Felix without the weight of everyone's jealousy and expectations.

Because you loved him and nothing can bring him back and this is all you can do.

#nobody loves as deeply as Oliver Quick #of course he wasn't “in love” with him #“in love” is too shallow an emotion to describe what he feels #I think about this daily #saltburn #saltburn posting #saltburn meta #oliver quick #felix catton #cattonquick

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liliannadelaphinehartifelt · 3 months

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Alastor - [DEVOTION…. Pt. 2]

xxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxx xxxx xxx

[ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ SLIGHT AGE GAP ] + [ ARRANGED MARRIAGE ] + [ BREEDING KINK ] + [ MENTIONS OF BLOOD & GORE ]

xxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxx xxxx xxx

Beautiful days weren't uncommon in New Orleans.

They frequently occurred -even more so during the late summer months in the swamped countryside- where you now found yourself traveling through alongside your husband.

Alastor had decided it was high time both of you visited your recently conjoined families. His mother constantly asked to see you again, calling twice a week like clockwork to check on her darling son and his ever-so-sweet wife, and you appreciated her sincere affection.

You missed visiting her in person, learning things from her, and observing how much adoration she had for Alastor..

In a sense, she'd raised you like her own daughter, taking the place of your mother, who'd passed before you'd even taken your first steps. Your father was adamant a 'fever' took her, but Alastor's mother always hinted at a force greater than unfortunate health having to do with it.

You'd never thought to ask what she meant, trusting her wise and kind words wholeheartedly since Alastor was your only friend, but curiosity did plague your thoughts from time to time.

Her passing was a tragedy you could barely remember….

However, it was in the past, your mother was gone with your childhood, and you were now in the present -married to a man you never wished to part from…

Even more so now that he'd revealed how truly devoted he was to you and you alone…

“….I feel much more than love for you, my dear. Devotion is a better term…obsession at times…”

Those words of his rang loud and clear in your head for days on end, making your heart flutter ten times harder than it usually did when he was near and coaxing a particular passion for making him happy out of you at every opportunity given.

Your infatuation had grown into undeterred loyalty and in your opinion he deserved every bit of it.

Alastor worked tirelessly to further his career. Reaping the benefits of such hard work through copious amounts of money and awards from various admirers.

He'd perfected so many things to reach that point, hiding his natural down home drawl with a perfect transatlantic accent -you found both charming but preferred the first. Although, you understood why he’d mastered the ladder accent, and never insisted upon him disregarding it.

It was what made his character, brought the masses running back for more each time he was on air, and what kind of wife would you be if you asked him to refute all the admiration for simple and selfish reasons?..

He wasn’t home often enough to have such conversations in the first place…

Alastor was no stranger to working late into the evening, writing script after script past midnight at the station, and only returning home when he was sure his manuscripts were crystal clear.

That’s what you were made to believe he was doing anyway.

Alastor made sure of that.

In your eyes he was perfect, hardworking, and utterly perfect…

Not the merciless, flesh hungry, murder that’d been stalking the streets of New Orleans for almost six consecutive months…

To your knowledge Alastor had no flaws, no deep, dark secrets you felt the need to uncover, and certainly not a man with a tainted sense of morality you couldn't fully trust.

He ensured your view of him remained spotless, devoid of bloodthirst or cruelty.

You were too innocent for it, too pure to know what he'd done and continued to do for the sake of self-satisfaction, but there is always a time for truths to come to light…

Nevertheless, Alastor strived to make sure that time never came…

So, when the city became on edge, being put under a curfew by law enforcement in hopes of slowing the occurrence of his murders, and the number of police patrols significantly increased, Alastor decided a nice…long…relaxing vacation to the countryside would be an excellent idea.

Nothing suspicious about the idea at all…

You were ecstatic about the trip, rushing to pack things for the both of you the very evening he mentioned it, and Alastor was genuinely pleased to see you so excited.

You were painfully unaware of his true motives…so willing to spend time with him and leave the fear-induced city behind…

Oh, how he loved it…you and your gentle, naive nature…

Truly, a warm-hearted belle safe and sound in his bloodstained grasp.

He almost felt guilty, looking at you now, taking your first bare footsteps into the dewy summer grass surrounding his mother's home. Your eyes lit up like the high noon sun shining down on you both, soft lips pulled into a satisfied smile as you reacquainted yourself with fresh summer air, "God, I missed this.." you whispered to yourself as the comforting wind blew through your hair.

Alastor laughed softly, smile ever present as you did a twirl in the grass before looking at him over your shoulder, "Well, aren't you gonna join me, Al? Or am I gonna have to get a hug from your mother first?"

He narrowed his eyes, smile softening at the mention of her, "First? My dear, are you askin' for a race?"

You grinned, giggling as you shrugged playfully while walking backward towards the pathway leading to his mother's home, "Only if you're agreeing to one, honey.." you respond cheekily.

Your husband could never resist a challenge.

Ever.

You’d realized that very early on in your time with him, using it to your advantage more often than he realized.

Getting your way with Alastor was a special skill unique to you and not a soul else…

A smirk tugged at your lips as Alastor pushed off from leaning against the car, rolling his sleeves up as he strode towards you, "Daring, little thing, aren't you?" He teased, having to yell as you spun on your heel and took off without warning.

You let out a laugh, hearing him give chase, only a meter behind you in less than three seconds, and his subtle chiding at your attempt at cheating urging you to beat him.

"Looks like I'll beat you, dearest!" He boasts, drawing nearer to you within seconds, but hesitating to pass you by as he took in the sight of your white cotton dress riding higher up your thighs as you ran.

A delectable view for him in more ways than one…

Alastor couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen such a carefree and angelic sight. Nor, did he want to when you were right in front of him.

You scoffed at his teasing, oblivious to Alastor’s longing stare as you hiked up the front hem of your dress to hop over a fallen tree branch, but when you landed, he was at your side -a smirk already sneaking its way onto his face as you shot him a surprised glance.

When had he gotten so fast?…

You weren't sure, but Alastor had always been more physically fit than most, so you merely tried to keep up with him as the end of the path approached.

He beat you by five feet at least, but you were in too much of a giggle fit to notice. "You cheated!" You chirped, faking a pout as he leaned against one of the dark timber poles that upheld the wrap-around porch. "I was only beating you at your own game, ma chère… fair is fair." Alastor flashed you a grin, pushing his glasses to rest on top of his head before raising a hand to swipe the specks of dust that'd landed on his cheek during your short race.

You smiled at the rare, docile, boyish action. Alastor was never one to altogether drop his guard, so when moments like this occurred, you'd relish in it for as long as possible.

"Here, let me…" you spoke softly, still a little breathless after running but eager to help your husband. Alastor dropped his hand from his face, leaning down to make your reach for him less strenuous, and you smiled at the tiny habit.

He'd always considered your height difference, and your tummy fluttered at each implication of it.

Using the back of your dress sleeve, you carefully wiped at his cheek as he stared at you, allowing you to gingerly guide his face from side to side with your small hand cupping his jaw. "There, much better, monsieur.." you compliment him with a flirtatious drawl, admiring his dust free skin in the sunlight as a few strands of his wavy brown hair shifts over his eyes from the wind.

Alastor returns your admiration, gaze lowering to your lips when you speak and slowly rising again as you place the round glasses back on his face. "Thank you,'ma chère," he sighs gratefully, natural southern drawl shining through as he speaks, finding himself out of breathless as you stare up at him lovingly.

In all his life Alastor could count on one hand how many times an inkling of ‘love’ had trickled its way into his heart. You seemed to be a factor in at least half of those memories.

He deemed that fact more than enough reason to kill for you if fate ever dictated harm your way…

What man wouldn't spill a bit of blood for a woman that looks at him the way you are looking at him now..?

A lesser one, surely.

Alastor considered himself far from the definition of a lesser man..

“It’s my pleasure,” you mutter in response, shifting to step around him and knock on the door, but Alastor stops you by wrapping an arm around your waist, bringing you in close to gently kiss your nose, then your lips, and you return the intimate gesture on instinct.

He hums deep within his chest as your soft lips melt into his, grip tightening on your waist as he unconsciously glides his tongue along yours, and you successfully stifle a moan at the unexpected intrusion.

Was that….blood you tasted on him?…

You weren't given much time to register the iron residue mixed with the hints of black coffee you'd made for him that morning since the sound of a door swinging open startled you half to death before any connection could be made.

"Oh, well, would you get a look at you two!" Angelique Hartifelt beamed as she registered who was on her doorstep. Alastor immediately let you go, smiling wide as his mother tugged him into an airtight hug, and you blushed at the heartwarming sight.

"Hello, mother," Alastor mumbled into her dark curls, swaying her in his arms as she took him in, "My, you've grown baby…real successful too, I hear.." She laughed as he nodded, both clearly happy to see each other after so long, but she eventually pulled away from Alastor to turn her attention to you.

"Sweet girl… c'mere! God, you're just as pretty as a magnolia in May!" You had no time to reply as she hugged you tight, kissing your cheek while you giggled and greeted her politely, "You're too kind, Mrs. Hartifelt … It's nice to see you again! I've missed you dearly!"

She stepped back, grinning as wide as her son as she spun you around, "Don't be silly, honey! Married life becomes you! I missed seeing your lovely self, too. Maybe if Al stopped working so much, you'd have more time to stop by.." She gave him a playful glare, to which he flashed an apologetic smile.

"I'll try to remember that, Mother.." he tipped his head in understanding, and she swatted his arm lightly. "Oh, you know I'm only poking fun, baby. Come on inside, I wanna hear about the two of you…"

She paused, ushering you in the door first with a knowing smile, "…and if I have any grandchildren on the way." Her jest made you turn bright red, but her lighthearted laughter that followed eased your nerves.

However, Alastor's face fell for a moment as she said it, the two of you sharing a strange stare as Angelique closed the behind her and whisked past you both to lead the way into the kitchen.

It was only for a split second, but you could've sworn Alastor looked…

Hopeful…?

Or rather, genuinely affected by the mention of having a child with you…

The complex expression vanished from his face just as quickly as it appeared, his gaze shifting from you to his mother as she set a pitcher of sweet tea and a plate full of cookies out, and you instantly focused on the dish of sweets as the sugary smell invaded your nose.

You were here to enjoy her company, get away from the world and its burdensome worries, and overthinking Alastor’s every reaction wouldn’t be a good start to that….

Besides, her sweets were always your favorite; she'd shown you how to bake, and you attributed most of your cooking skills to her teaching. Alastor had also picked up a great deal of culinary tricks from her, and it became another hobby you two bonded over during childhood.

"Those look amazing, Mrs. Hartifelt," you flashed her a smile, humming as you pretended to swoon over them, and she laughed at your slight dramatics. "I suspected you'd stop by, so I made your favorite, honey. Come on, sit!"

"Don't mind if I do," you chirped and sat next to her at the modestly round dining table; she poured you both a glass of sweet tea before looking over at Alastor expectantly. "That means you too," she gently scolded his standoff-ish behavior, watching as he took a seat on her unoccupied side and patting his cheek in gratitude as he did.

Alastor leaned into her touch, mumbling an apology for not accompanying her sooner, "I got lost in thought, is all…" he clarified in a soft chuckle, and she nodded in understanding.

"Mmm, really, what about?"

His gaze shifted to you again, and your body momentarily froze as he stared while answering his mother, "How much I love you…that’s all.”

Whether he meant to direct the phrase towards you or his mother was unclear, but your chest tightened, and your head filled with fog nonetheless.

How could he still manage to make you so unsteady within the simplest efforts and gestures?…

Alastor held your gaze for a minute longer, forgetting where he was presently, but his self induced trance vanished as his mother spoke again.

"I see you still haven’t lost your charm to the big city. That radio show must keep you on your toes, then.."

He nodded, laughing gently at his mother's teasing, "I wouldn’t dream of it, and my audience expects the best, so I must deliver."

She nods, humming as her chocolate eyes drift towards you, "And how is my lovely son treating you, sweetheart? Well, I presume?"

You could hear the hint of curiosity in her tone, light but underlying seriousness in her question. It was no secret to her that Alastor had…certain tendencies, but those were reserved for people who deserved it, and you'd never been deemed deserving.

She hoped it remained that way…

To her inner relief, you answered her with the broadest smile and happiest tone, "Oh, of course! I couldn't have asked for a better husband! You raised him well..a true gentleman, Mrs. Hartifelt."

Alastor smirked, reveling in your praise, unbothered by his mother eyeing him carefully before she gave you a pleasant response, "I'm glad to hear that. You're still sweet on him too…just like when you were little."

You blushed, taking a ginger bite of one cookie while nodding, "Mhm.."

Why you became nervous when your childlike crush on Alastor was brought up was a mystery, but you couldn't help it since both of your families saw your subtle pining for him day in and day out.

"Speaking of 'little'…" his mother sat straight, arms crossed over her chest as she glanced at the both of you, "When are you two gonna give me a grandbaby to look after. I'm not getting any younger, Al.."

That look crossed his face again, but his smile remained.

You, however, nearly choked on your sweet treat, but luckily managed not to make an utter fool of yourself. A minor cough and a quick sip from your glass eased your mishap.

Angelique patted your back gently, laughing softly at your reaction, "Honey, I'm only kidding… there's no rush." Her reassurance was genuine, but unbeknownst to her, Alastor had breached the subject already.

Albeit in the heat of a very intense and lust-driven moment.

"Ma chère," Alastor rose from his chair, slight concern on his face as he came to kneel by your chair, "…are you alright?"

You nodded slowly, smiling softly at him before huffing out, "M' fine…no need to worry.." he nodded in return, standing to his feet to address her implications.

"We'll see what the future holds, Mother, but as of now, are we welcome to your hospitality for a few days?"

He knew she'd say 'yes' but made it a habit to ask.

Alastor maintained impeccable manners, just as she'd taught him to have, and it brought a proud glint to Angelique’s eyes.

"Now, Al, why would I ever say no to that. You two stay as long as you want!"

You tipped your head in gratitude, "Thank you, Mrs. Hartifelt.."

She scoffed, placing her hand over one of yours before leaning in close as if to tell you a secret Alastor shouldn’t hear.

"Even after all these years and being married to my boy, you're still so polite, Y/n. The world won't burn to a crisp if you call me 'mother' sweetheart."

She kissed your temple, and your heart melted at the tender gesture, "We are family, after all."

That was true…

"I suppose you're right, Mrs- I mean mother." You tripped over the words, so used to being formal but enjoying the new arrangement.

It felt natural enough.

"Look how easy that was!" Angelique patted your hand assuredly, stood from her seat, and began to clear the table.

There was no doubt in your mind that Alastor got his charm from her….

Your revelation was cut short as she absentmindedly spoke to you again, "Pay your father a visit before you settle in. I'm sure he'd like to see you…he comes by often asking about you two a lot these days.."

You stiffened at the mention of your father, recalling the last time you'd seen him.

Exactly a year ago.

The day you married Alastor…

After that, you'd barely spoken to him, not because you wished for distance but because he'd established it.

Your father may have agreed to your marriage with Alastor, but he only partially warmed up to your husband. He'd looked upon him with a hidden distaste from the very beginning of your friendship.

"Something's off about that boy…" he’d say.

Then proceed to warn you of a danger that never existed in your opinion. "You be careful around him…real careful.."

When he realized your attraction to Alastor his nagging only worsened, "He's a charmer…those are never good for anything. You remember that."

For years, his assumptions of Alastor irked you to no end; it perplexed you why he even married you off to him, but whenever you'd search for answers, he'd give the same vague answer.

"That boy isn't what he seems. Never has been and never will be.."

Frustrating as he was, you could never bring yourself to hate him for it, but the thought of having to endure his morbid company wasn’t comforting at all.

Alastor recognized the distress in your gentle features, your bright eyes narrowing at the tabletop, and your hands wringing around each other nervously.

All because of him.

Mr. L/n...

The one man who seemed to get a clue as to who and what Alastor was without anything other than a so-called ‘gut feeling’.

Alastor had tried for years to mask his true nature from him, but your father saw right through him at every encounter.

He had been and still was Alastor’s worst agitation…

Such a bothersome fool…

Your husband averted his oncoming glare to the nearest wall before wiping the disdain off his face, and reaching a hand out to caress your back. You relaxed under his firm touch, looking up to him as his thumb rubbed soothing circles into your spine, "It'll only be a short visit, my dear. We'll have the whole weekend after that…"

His smile eased your fretting, leading you to nod and smile back. "Alright… y-you'll come with me, yes?"

Absolutely not-

Alastor inwardly hushed his shadow demon, tipping his head in warning to the spectrum and forcing it to hold its tongue before it overrode his consciousness.

His smile widened, the hand on your back sliding up to cup your cheek, "Of course, mon chere. I wouldn't dream of letting you go alone.."

We should-

His shadow attempted to cut in again, but Alastor withheld its advance with a simple command.

Hush up. Now…

Fortunately, it ceased all communication, and his focus on you went unhindered.

You stood from your chair, rising on your tiptoes to peck his lips with your own, whispering against them before you pulled away.

"Thank you… Sometimes I dont know what I'd do without you…"

Alastor cursed the sharp pang that penetrated his heart as you said those words, an eerie sense of Deja vu hitting him in waves, but the uneasy feeling never showed on his face -not until you thanked his mother one last time before flurrying upstairs to freshen up.

Angelique felt her son’s mood shift, intuition leading her to ask him what was on his mind, "Something wrong?.."she mumbles calmly without ceasing in her task of cleaning.

Alastor remained silent for a long moment, watching as his mother moved on to pulling out ingredients to cook for dinner, and when she turned to face him entirely, he found the sense to speak.

"It's gettin' worse…" he confessed through a tight-lipped smile, leaning back against a wall to keep his composure, and she needed no other clues to figure out his cause for distress.

"The killing' or the magic?" She inquires, back to him, and but her voice laced with evident care.

"Both. It's getting to me..bad…more frequently.." he confesses.

Angelique hums in understanding, "Have you been hunting at all these past few weeks?.."

Alastor took his glasses off, breath coming out strained as his eyes shifted from their usual whiskey color to a redder hue.

"No. Not since…" he falters, gritting his teeth as his unruly spectral companion cut into his train of thought.

Not since you fucked her-

"I said shut the hell up…" Alastor seethed out loud, eyes screwing shut as his shadow danced onto the wall, yet his mother remained unphased by the sudden outburst.

She merely peered at the taunting shadow, causing it to cower back in her son's tall frame, "Go hunting while you're here. That'll take the edge off, but get that spirit in check before you do, or it won't end well. You hear me?"

Alastor nodded, rolling his neck to alleviate the tension in his body before recapturing his shadow and flashing his mother an understanding smile.

Her advice was final, a direct warning to him, and it garnered a welcomed sense of control over his frazzled behavior.

His smile lost its crazed edge, drawing into a polite smirk as he peered at her expectantly.

"Do you happen to have my old hunting gear lying around?.."

She turned towards the stove, not affected by his sudden personality switch by any means, and simply motioned a hand upstairs before answering him, "In your father's old study. Right where you left it, behind the bookshelf…."

Alastor perked up, grinning wide as the memory of his last hunting spree crossed his mind, "Merci, mother." He thanked her, walking over to kiss her cheek before exiting the homely kitchen while humming a new tune as he strode up the steps with newfound confidence.

Tonight, he'd look for prey…

How he'd satiate his shadow's pesky intrusions was a matter he'd have to solve later.

Although, if the way it constantly became hyperactive at the mere mention or sight of you had anything to do with it Alastor was certain you were the solution to the problem.

+++++

The visit with your father went as you expected it to go.

He welcomed you with open arms and a tender smile, but when he saw Alastor climbing the marble steps of your family’s estate, his cordial behavior waned.

“I see you’ve brought him along…” he made no effort to hide the distaste in his tone as Alastor reached your side.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again as well Mr, L/n…” Your husband remained polite as always, masking his hatred for the man with a practiced facade of kindness.

Alastor became more affectionate towards you in his presence, going so far as to kiss the top of your head and wrapping an arm around your waist protectively, making every effort to keep you close throughout the tense reunion.

Your father clearly did not take a liking to his indirect aggravations it at all…

Yet, he said nothing on the matter, cutting your visit short with the tired excuse of having an 'important engagement' he needed to attend to.

So, in under an hour of resisting your childhood home, you found yourself walking back through the secret trail you and Alastor had paved years ago to commute across, and with each step, you felt more at ease.

You weren't quick to anger, but your father's jabs towards Alastor never ceased to ruin your mood. Thankfully, your husband seemed more eclectic than when you'd arrived in the countryside, and that, in turn, brightened your previously somber spirits.

Alastor held your arm under his as the two of you trekked along the path, going over small hills, thin creeks, and finally through a line of forestry bordering his mother's home.

The sun was beginning to set as you entered the forest end of your journey. The warm summer wind becoming a bit chilly as it whipped through the large willow and evergreen trees. Alastor kept you close, better acquainted with the woods than you were, but not because he'd memorized the path from childhood.

No, his memory of it stemmed from the many bloody escapades he'd enjoyed there and intended to continue sooner rather than later…

All for a rush, for the flesh, for the undisputed thrill.

Even now he couldn't stop grinning, thinking about it, failing to dampen his excitement as he led you both through the darkening woods.

You glanced up at him, happy to see Alastor so content despite your awful encounter with your father, "I apologize for him… he's…" you paused, trying to find the right words to describe your father's behavior, but he beat you to it with a gentle laugh.

"A cynical old man who believes that I'm no good for you?"

His voice held an edge, but you took the comment as playful heat and not as a harmful insult the way Alastor intended it to sound.

You couldn’t blame him for feeling spiteful about the whole ordeal…

He had every right to be unnerved…

A tender sigh slipped past your lips, and you nodded in agreement as he glanced down at you, "A spot-on depiction…not a pretty one either.." Alastor chuckled, shaking his head dismissively as he reassured you he took no offense to your father's dislike of him.

Though it was somewhat justified.

"Don't you worry yourself about him, my dear. I have you, and he can do nothing about it…"

Not a fucking thing…

You peered up at Alastor, noting the unwavering smile on his face as he spoke, but the glare in his eyes said he felt anything but indifference about the situation.

That worried you…scared you a little…

"Al…" you whispered, halting in your tracks and causing him to do the same. Your brows furrowed as he lowered his head, his breaths becoming heavy as his hold on your arm grew harder, but not enough to harm you.

His smile only grew as you muttered again, "Alastor, …look at me…" your words as tender as ever as you turned on your heel to face him head-on.

Alastor's eyes twitched as you came close, flashing red when you cupped his face with both hands and dipped your head to gain proper eye contact with him.

Concern was written all over you face…

You tried to decipher Alastor’s expression, ignoring the chill running down your spine as his gaze hardened while the air around you grew stiffer by the second.

Was he angry?

It felt as if he were but something in his unwavering stare told you this emotion surpassed that, and you couldn't deny how intensely it radiated off him as he slowly tilted his head at you.

Possessiveness.

Pure, unbridled need for dominance.

Whether it was over you or his state of mind remained unclear as he took a step forward. You made no effort to back away, letting Alastor tower over you, and not once breaking eye contact with him.

“Alastor…you can tell me-“

The comforting words died on your tongue when he jerked you into his chest, large hands finding your wrists as the heated kiss he initiated silenced the surprised yelp that left your lips as they melded with his.

You eyes drifted shut as he deepened the exchange, gradually relenting your body control over to him as he guided your arms to wrap around his neck. Alastor shifted his hold on your wrists to trace down your sides, the ghost like touch sending a shock through you immediately.

He smiled at your skittish reaction, oddly calmer than he was a moment before as he dared to pull similar responses from you. His skilled tongue delved into you mouth, inviting yours to play along while he leveraged his larger frame against your smaller one. You obediently stepped back as he pressed forward, subtly flinching as your backside hit the bark of the nearest tree, yet the scratch of wood on your covered skin failed to bother you as the kiss became feverish.

Desperate…

Alastor was desperate for something…

For what you weren’t certain, unable to think straight when he had you pinned against a decaying evergreen, stealing your breath away with ease, only pulling away from your lips to catch his own breath.

You quietly panted for air as well, blood rushing to your head from the sound of his have breathing mixing with the distant chirps of crickets harmonizing alongside buzzing cicadas.

The wind seemed to lose its chill as it passed between the nonexistent space separating you both.

Alastor held you still in that moment, one hand at the back of your neck to keep your head raised towards his, and the other resting under your chin. His thumb traced over your now spit slick lips, brown eyes following the slight tremble in them as you continued to pant for air.

Oh, how he adored your eagerness to please him. Always so desperate for more of him and never quite aware of your own greediness for his undivided affection.

“What is there for me to tell you, ma chère…?” The words thundered in his chest, almost a low hum in the midst of the surrounding wilderness, but you heard him clear enough.

“How you truly feel….whats behind that smile you fight so hard to maintain.” You gulp down the anxiety trying to creep its way into your tone, inhaling sharply as he pushed a knee between your thighs, and your train of thought came to a halt feeling him put pressure on your thinly covered cunt.

You knew the gesture was a from of distraction on his part, an attempt to avert your attention from the uneasy shift in his mood, and though you wanted to push him back and demand he take your concerns seriously…

The building heat in your core advised otherwise, overriding your urge to coax an explanation from Alastor with the need to be filled by him instead, and the growing amount of stars in your eyes as he continued to toy with your body made it all the more obvious to him.

“I assure you I’m quite alright, darling“ Alastor remained true to his previous claim, smiling softly as your eyes lidded over while your hips tentatively began to rock over his thigh at a sluggish pace, and your hands unraveling from his neck to trail down his chest. The linen fabric of his shirt cooled your burning fingertips, keeping your focus clear enough for another hushed whisper to leave your lips, “Tellin’ me not lie to you but then turning around and doing it yourself…”

You paused, holding his gaze as your tongue darted out to lick at his thumb teasingly, “How is that fair, Alastor, hm?…” your voice remains quiet, the taste of his skin lingering on the tip of your tongue as the questions hangs in the air around you, and it seems to hit a nerve in him.

A flash of red illuminates his irises, smile stretching wide across his face at your seductive actions and reprimanding remarks, “Fair? Is that what you want from me, mon chere? A fair bit of truth?”

His shadow itched to enlarge, wanting nothing more than to show itself to you, and intake the delirious reaction you’d surely have to seeing its monstrous form.

Although, Alastor kept it at bay, settling with trailing the hand on your neck to tangle through your hair, tugging it just rough enough to earn a soft gasp from you, and that action alone hard your inside twisting with anticipation.

You knew he’d never harm you, never lift a finger to imply harsh treatment, but the thrill of finally experiencing a hidden side of your husbands persona had your heart racing and your cunt throbbing.

“Yes…” you whimper compliantly, hands fisting the collar of his dress shirt to tug him closer, and Alastor growled at the aggressive action.

“Careful what you ask for, sweet girl…” he warns you through gritted teeth, tempted to kiss you again as an airy giggle leaps from your mouth, “And what if I refuse to be?”

Fuck, I need her…we need her…

His shadow twitched, writhing in the waning light of the sun at your taunting, and embodying every ounce of excitement the man before you struggled to contain as the heat of your cunt gliding over his thigh persisted with every gentle buck of your hips against him.

Alastor felt his blood run hot as you pried at his self control, the corner of your lips pulling up into a knowing smile as he stared at you hungrily, and not a single drop of apprehension present in your gaze as he lowered his head to whisper in your ear.

“Then I suppose I’m left with no other choice than to remind you what happens to curious little cats, my dear…”

xxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxx xxxx xxx

Idk if I hate or love this chapter…like I’m so used to writing smut that writing angst or fluff feels so dreadful to me. Plus, you guys liked the first part so much I didn’t want to fuck this up…I promise the next part is pure smut and gore lol. This was essentially a filler part (I’m sorry)… ❤️ also did you guys catch the Princess and the Frog reference I threw in?!? If you did then I freakin adore you hehehe ❤️

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

I’d cry, scream, fucking beg for this man…it’s fucking ridiculous how much I love him tbhhhh ❤️ credit to creator

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bunny-yan · 5 months

Note

Didn't Tasman always married some other girl in all the previous timelines? I think lover is justified in not trusting him one bit. Imagine if she throws that fact in his face and how all she ever wanted is someone loyal and he's never loyal to her while she always was.

You are just begging to make him angry aren't you? Our hero doesn't like to be questioned. TW: mentions of abuse, depictions of violence, language, mentions death,

—

You stared. You didn’t know what else to do when he presented you with a simple ring etched with declarations of love and devotion.

His eyes were shining, hopeful as he knelt and presented it to you.

Onlookers whispered, most stopping to witness history being made. The world’s hero was proposing to an average commoner after all. You could see the looks of disgust on the faces of his party members as they watched the tragic display.

You felt your stomach clench painfully, the butterflies more like cicadas fighting desperately to be freed from such a narrow space. Your hands were clammy as you wrung them together, you felt lightheaded, and it took every fiber of your being to prevent yourself from passing out from pure shock.

Why would he do something like this after the screaming fit the two of you had the night before? It was hardly a good sign that it was time to spend the rest of your lives together. Especially considering how that fight ended.

You didn’t want to think about the bruises that were hidden underneath the long-sleeved tunic you were wearing despite the blazing temperatures. If you thought about the terrible words whispered harshly in your ear, the rough hands, you thought you’d puke and ruin this heartfelt display.

“I know it took longer than we thought, but I wanted to keep my promise.”

An understatement.

A fucking understatement is what it was. You’d made the promise to grow up and get married to your childhood friend in your first life. To propose talking about an age-old promise, that had been broken as far as you were concerned, felt cruel.

Shaking your head, you tried to keep your voice soft so you didn’t embarrass him and give all of these people another reason to hate you.

“Tasman, don’t do this.”

His eyes shined, if he heard what you said, he didn’t acknowledge it as his smile grew before sealing the nail in your coffin.

“Will you marry me?”

Gasps echoed throughout the crowd, the throng of people desperate to push closer to see who the potential partner their savior was taking, to hear what you would say after being given such an honor. It would be a lie to say that you weren’t hurt by how unimpressed some of them were. You could amount it to jealousy and you were sure that’s what it was, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to blame them when they didn’t know that their hero was a monster disguised as a saint. And how could they? He’d kept it so well hidden, even you didn’t find out until this lifetime.

It was cruel to abandon you after asking you to wait for him. Marrying another broke your heart, but any hope you had of rekindling anything other than a burning disdain for your childhood friend seemed impossible when your forgiveness was usurped by his selfishness to finally take what he never seemed to want before.

The longer you stood there, awkwardly staring at him, the louder the whispers grew.

His bright smile waned and stress began to appear on his features. Why weren’t you accepting? He’d finally done the one thing the two of you wanted. It should’ve made you happy. Why weren’t you happy?

“Lover?” he said, voice strained as he debated to stand or remain kneeling.

You shook your head again. Overwhelmed by feelings that hit you like a freight train you whipped around before almost running away. The crowd parted to let you through, finally silent as they looked at their savior, struck dumb, still on his knees as he watched you disappear.

It was the wrong move.

You should’ve gratefully accepted his offer, hiding the disgusting feelings from sight until you could tell him, behind closed doors, just how you felt about even the thought of marrying him.

Instead, you ran. It was dumb. It was stupid to believe that you would have time to process your feelings before confronting him and when a hand caught your elbow just as you reached the door to the inn you rarely got a chance to leave, the ominous feeling in your gut solidified as you looked back and stared into unquestionably angry purple eyes.

You were dragged to your prison faster than you could stumble behind him and you winced when your knee banged on the stairs. He didn’t slow down, refusing to let you go until you were shoved inside the bedroom.

“Do you insist on making a fool of me?”

“I don’t know what you expected me to say.”

“Was a simple ‘yes’ too much to ask for?”

It was, but you didn’t tell him that. Staring at the floor, you rubbed a hand over your face as you tried to make sense of the turmoil you’d been thrown into.

“Where is all of this coming from?”

He grit his teeth, closing the door to your bedroom when familiar voices could be heard entering the common area. Didn’t want them to know about the trouble in paradise, even though it was clear not only from the embarrassing display but from the way the two of you would fight incessantly. About anything and everything since you were brought here.

Taking a deep breath, he walked closer to you before holding your hands in his as he looked deeply into your eyes.

“I thought my feelings were clear.” When you didn’t speak, he continued. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. We made a promise to be together when we were younger and I want to make good on it.”

Looking into his eyes, you said, “You remembered.”

A lone tree in your hometown held your initials encased in a heart with his. The two of you promised that you would always be together and that when you got older, you’d spend the rest of your days in love and inseparable.

Narrowing your eyes, you ripped your hands out of his grip. “It’s a little late.” Pacing to the window with Tasman on your heels, you said, “We made that promise ages ago. Lifetimes ago. That tree is dead if it still even exists along with that useless promise.”

“Don’t say that. It’s not too late.”

“It is!” you exclaimed, turning to face him. “I don’t love you Tasman. The days I dreamt of marrying you and spending the rest of our lives together are long gone. They were crushed after you took that vow with someone else.”

“We talked about this,” he said, exasperated.

“And yet I’m still angry.”

“Don’t you realize how selfish you’re being?” And here it was. “Holding on to something that happened in the past when I’m trying to make up for it now. I’m trying to make this work. To make us work and you refuse to stop acting like a spoilt child.”

Typical Tasman. Resorting to calling you selfish whenever he couldn’t comfortably paint himself a victim of circumstance. It was old news. It shouldn’t have bothered you as much as it did, but the words buried themselves in your skin, threatening to rip out every violent impulse and dig up each insecurity you tried so hard to manage.

“I’m a spoiled child and yet you can’t seem to stop clinging to me despite how much I make it clear that I want nothing to do with you. Your mistakes were in the past? Well, our love is too.”

He slapped you across the face. Hard enough to knock you from your feet. Your knees banged harshly on the carpeted floors and you held your cheek as you looked up at him.

He wasn’t above putting his hands on you, but he’d never done it without warning, without physical resistance on your part.

You stared at him, frozen as he glared down at you.

“You’re acting ridiculous.” Fingers clenching and unclenching, his intimidating figure towered over you as he went on his tirade. “Have you ever thought about how I must’ve felt? Having to leave you behind? Being used as a disposable tool to fight someone else’s battles? I would’ve given anything to stay by your side, to grow up together and live a normal life, but I had to become the hero. To save the world. To save you. I sacrificed my life, my humanity to give you the chance to live freely and you’re whining about not being with me for a couple of lifetimes? I spent decades trying to forget you. Centuries! Long after you disappeared from this world. Because, unlike your existence, the hero’s fate only ends when the world does. Would you have had me tease myself with a glimpse of what happiness could have been like by coming back? Spending a single century by your side before you grew old and left me with memories of what living was?”

For all the pain in his voice, you could only think about how much your jaw ached. How devastated you felt learning of his multitude of affairs. Sure he could claim that none of them mattered, that he was doing it to forget about you, but where did that leave you? Where did it leave the centuries worth of feelings that continued to go unanswered?

Quietly, so softly that it wouldn’t have been heard by anyone other than him, you said, “It took you eight centuries to change your mind?”

You looked at him and something was off about his gaze.

Something was wrong.

What had changed? He’d abandoned you time and time again and only now did he return. He’d spent the last eight lifetimes treating you as a placeholder that he never planned on coming back to. What was so important that forced him to come running back?

Your mouth opened, slack in realization. It made you sick to your stomach to even consider, but you had to know.

“Why don’t you let me go back to my life without you?”

“What life?” he said, spitting out the words as if they were poison in his mouth. “You were an orphan, wanted by no one. You had no friends,” Because of him. “You couldn’t hold down a job.” Because of him. “You couldn’t even manage to find an apprenticeship. You had no future before you met me.”

“At least let me spend eight of my lives fucking other people and we can call it even.” you snapped. You felt fear coil in your stomach at the rage that poured through his gaze as he descended upon you. Grabbing your shirt by the collar he yanked you to your feet before he got in your face.

“You’re mine.” he said with a snarl.

There it was.

The ugly jealousy that reared its head whenever you proposed a life without him. He couldn’t bear to live with the thought of living without you, yet he refused to allow you to live a life where you could potentially forget about him.

You weren’t allowed to move on and experience life. He’d rather go back on his mind-numbingly nonsensical ideals and trap you by his side, even offering something you would’ve cried tears of joy for had it been one lifetime earlier, rather than let you go.

You didn’t think your heart could break further, but you couldn’t help it as you thought of how easily all of this could’ve been avoided if you hadn’t waited. If you would have decided to live instead of wasting away again and again.

Tasman would’ve come running back, both of you surprised and young, eyes unwearied from the knowledge of previous lives, of heartbreak and loneliness.

Of betrayal.

Maybe the two of you would’ve argued, he would claim you broke your promise by not waiting for him and you would argue that you didn’t have to remain trapped in the same town to wait for him to finish fighting and come back to you. Maybe he would’ve gotten angry and insisted that you stay and when you refused, maybe he would’ve offered to bring you with him. Making new promises of protection, promising to help fight each others’ battles, and keeping old ones of loyalty and love.

Thinking about it now, the idea felt like a distant fairytale. An unthinkable possibility looking at the man you no longer loved.

“You’re mine,” he repeated, reaching into his pocket.

You panicked when he pulled out the ring.

“To let every know, we’ll marry and make it the wedding of the century once I defeat the Demon King.”

You tried to tug your wrist out of his grip, but it was like iron. When the ring got closer, you balled your hand into a fist. You knew there was no real point in fighting him, but you had to do whatever it took to prevent this from happening.

Irritant and unwilling to play the kind hero who would never hurt a soul, you screamed as your wrist was crushed in his hand. Your fingers splayed on reflex and he smiled when he was finally able to slide the ring on your finger.

“How lovely,” he hummed almost longingly.

A silent chant set your wrist and he released it to allow you to curl into yourself on the floor. You felt little other than a dull ache, but you couldn’t forget the feeling of your wrist shattering that quickly.

“Don’t bother trying to take it off. You won’t like what happens if you do.” he said before turning and leaving the room without another word. You could hear the insincere congratulations pour in, muffled from beyond the door.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x you #male yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere male #ask #gn reader #yandere hero

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