#we would always gasp when an angel would die

[wxywardsun]

My thing is..why weren’t the witches allowed to have a flashy glowy eyed death too? Angels get it,reapers get it,demons get it too! But witches,especially natural born witches get nothing..? I always found it odd. They have magic in their bones! I don’t know..if the angels can get glowy eyes and beams of light coming from Injuries when they die (and demons can get crackly orange/yellow bones) how come the witches can’t get beamy glowy purple eyes when they die? Missed opportunity I think!

[raven-dor]

come back to me

In which gwayne hightower leaves his wife asleep before the battle, and she worries over his return

PAIRING: gwayne hightower x reader, alicent hightower x PLATONIC!reader, rhaenyra targaryen x PLATONIC!reader

WARNINGS: allusions to nsfw, angst, old friends, hurt/comfort, arguing (not actual arguing, just reader letting out her worry), fluffy ending

WORD COUNT: 2,994

Her emerald green dress flowed with the wind as she stood on their shared balcony, staring at the town below. He always admired her from afar, she was angelic, Gwayne had come to realize over the years. He walked behind her, his arms snaking around her waist, a gentle touch that spoke volumes as to how much he treasured her. “Come to bed, my love.” 

She hummed, leaning her head back into his chest. “If I come to bed, this night will end, and that will mean you are leaving.” She shook her head, her resistance palpable in the air. “So I will not.” 

He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “Will you deny your lord husband the pleasure of your company before he goes into battle?” 

She laughed, twisting in his hold. “Is this a request or a demand?” 

“It is a plea.” He leaned down, inches away from her lips. “I do not wish to leave on bad terms. This battle will be one for the histories.” He shivered, pulling her closer. “Indulge me.” 

She leaned forward, cruelly teasing him. Quickly, she pulled back, escaping his hold easily. She walked past him, smirking. “If we must.” 

He grabbed her wrist, spinning her back to him. She gasped, her knees weakening under his piercing gaze. Gwayne had always had a hold on her, even long before they were promised to each other, and she was just the Dowager Queen’s childhood friend. He was a good man; he always had been. “You know I would never force myself on you, my lady. But I must confess…” He leaned down, whispering. “If I do not kiss you, I will surely die.”

She giggled, reaching for his lips. “We cannot have that, can we?” 

He collided her lips with his, groaning. “My darling girl…” 

“Take me to bed, Gwayne.” She murmured, linking her lips with his once more. “Please.” 

“Whatever you wish, my love.” He grabbed her thighs, wrapping her legs around him with ease. “Whatever you wish.” 

 

The sun peaked through their wide-open curtains, stirring her from her otherwise peaceful sleep. She rolled over, reaching out for her husband. Her reach came up empty, his side of the bed still warm. She gasped, realizing what he had done. She sat up quickly, calling for her maid. “Help me dress.” 

The young girl nodded. “Which dress would you-” 

“It does not matter!” She snapped. “I am sorry, truly. Any dress, just do it quickly.” 

The maid threw on her frock, a simple green velvet slip that she typically wore when exploring the woods surrounding Old Town. Smiling gratefully, she raced through the halls, not caring for the looks that followed her. The doors to the courtyard burst open, and she scanned quickly for her husband. The Dowager Queen stood alone in the center, staring at the gate. Gathering herself, she approached, curtsying. “My Queen.” 

Alicent smiled lightly. “No need for such formalities. We were once friends, Y/N.” 

She ignored the request. “Has your brother-” 

The queen nodded knowingly. “He just left, I’m afraid.” She put a comforting hand on her sister-in-law’s shoulder. “He did not want to wake you.” 

“I-” Tears began to well, and she coughed. “If you’ll excuse me.” 

“Y/N, wait!” 

She had already dashed up the stairs, her tears now fully streaming down her cheeks. 

It had been over a month before she’d received word that the battle was over and the surviving soldiers would be returning home. In that month, not one letter from Gwayne had graced her room or, more accurately, her cell. The Red Keep was a prison now, though if Gwayne came back, she would not tell him. He loved his family dearly, especially his sister and learning of his wife’s distaste for them would surely cause a rift. 

She closed her eyes, trying to remember what had only been twenty years ago, when she, Alicent, and Rhaenyra would sit in the gardens, jesting about tutors and gossiping about knights of the realm. When Alicent left to attend to her father, Rhaenyra would look over at Y/N, teasing her about her budding crush on Alicent’s brother. 

She had not seen Rhaenyra in years. Now, her nephew by law had usurped her throne, and there was nothing Y/N could do but watch. She had no dragon, no power of her own. Which she had been contempt of before her husband had been dragged into this whole mess. Thanks to her nephew, he might never return to her. All she could do now was count down the days until the horns blew, and she stood in the courtyard, raking over the faces in the crowd until she found Gwaynes. 

A knock rang through her chambers, her guard's voice coming through the door. “My lady, the Dowager Queen, would like to see you.” 

She sighed, taking a deep breath. “I will be out in a moment.” 

Alicent rarely called for her anymore. The last time had been when Viserys had died, a letter arrived to Old Town not for her brother, the Lord Paramount, but for you. For you to come.

You had not; after all, you had just given birth to your second child, and you were too frail to walk. Gwayne had refused to even let you entertain the notion, insisting that your health came before his sister, even if she was the queen. 

Her chamber doors were wide open, and Alicent sat at her table, tea and two glasses in front of her. The Queen smiled, waving away her servants and guard. “Leave us.” 

“But my lady…” 

“My sister-in-law is no threat, Sir Rickard.” The older man nodded, ushering the servants out of her chambers and closing the doors soundly behind him. “Are you well?” 

“As well as I can be, my lady.” Y/N smiled. “And yourself?” 

“As well as one can be, I suppose.” The two former friends sat in silence, sipping their tea. The fire crackled behind them, and Y/N began to wonder what exact moment had caused a rift in their friendship. 

“I must tell you something.” Alicent looked torn like she was fighting herself to stay silent. “You must not tell anyone, not even my brother.” 

“Of course.” She nodded quickly. “Of course, Alicent.” 

“I made a mistake.” Her face was ghostly white. “Aegon–” She gasped, a sob wrecking through her body. Y/N froze, unsure of what to do. “He was never supposed to be king. I misunderstood.” 

“Misunderstood?” 

“Viserys, he was spouting nonsense about Aegon the Conquerer, and I thought-” She scoffed. “I misunderstood.” 

Y/N sat back in her chair, staring at the fire. “You mean to tell me that this entire war started because of a misunderstanding?” Alicent remained silent. “Alicent, you must tell Rhaenyra. Before it’s too late.” 

The queen laughed. “It’s already too late. Her son is dead; my grandson was viciously murdered in his own bed. She would not see me. You remember how stubborn she is.” 

Y/N knelt in front of Alicent, taking her hands in hers. “Alicent, for the good of the realm, you must meet with Rhaenyra and come to an agreement. Atrocities have been dealt by both sides, but if you tell her this…” She shivered. “It would save thousands. It would save your brother, Helaena, your…guard.” She tightened her hold on her old friend's hands. “Please.” 

“I-” She nodded, not trusting her voice to stay collected. Y/N stood, dusting off her dress and sitting back down. 

“Have you heard any word of your brother?” 

“None.” It was Alicent’s turn to hold her hand. “He will return to you, I am sure. He is a great knight.” 

She nodded. “He is; that is what worries me.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“He would never leave his men behind. Even if that meant…” She trailed off, sighing. “You understand.” 

Alicent nodded, her heart at the bottom of her stomach. Her old friend had always been melancholy since childhood. Her parents had perished in a horrible accident, and she had been a ward of the crown ever since. She could not bear to be the cause of her further grief. 

“How are the children?” 

“Well. Daeron writes that Arthur is practically as talented at the sword as he. Emma is still just a babe, but she grows larger by the day.” She murmured. “As far as I’ve heard.” 

“You will be back with them soon; I promise you that.” Alicent smiled. “I understand what it is like to miss a child.” 

Y/N nodded, but she knew Alicent could never understand. How could she? She had never been forced to leave her children to come and serve a usurper of a king. 

The horns had blown midday only two days later. Y/N’s worry for her husband had turned into anger over the past months, anger that he did not say goodbye to her before he went off to war. She’d been sitting on her balcony when the deep sound blared through the city, rousing her out of her stupor. Even if she was angry with her husband, that did not mean her heart did not yearn to be in his arms, to be kissed like it was the last moment they would ever live. Her dress billowed behind her as she ran, again not bothering to acknowledge the prying eyes that followed. She slowed, and two guards opened the doors slowly, slower than she would have liked. 

Walking down the staircase gracefully, she tried to keep her composure when she could not find Gwayne in the crowd below. Her heart dropped, and she clenched her fists, nausea bubbling in her stomach. She was too young to be a widow, too young to raise two children on her own, too young to- 

“My lady.” She turned around, almost sobbing at the sight. There stood her lord husband, in all his glory. His hair was dirty, his skin broken, but all Y/N saw was her love before her and alive. 

She bowed, making no movement to embrace him. 

“Lord Husband. I am most grateful for your return.” 

His eyebrows raised, a smirk gracing his delicate face. “How formal of you, my dear.” 

She huffed, turning on her heels and walking back into the castle. Gwayne followed behind swiftly, entirely confused as to why he did not have her in his arms. They walked in silence to their chambers, servants stilling at the sight of Gwayne. “Leave us.” He ordered, not sparing a second glance. They scurried out, the doors shutting loudly.

He stared at her curiously. “My Love-” 

“Let me dress your wounds.” She sighed, walking over to their wardrobe. “It seems you have many.” 

He nodded but made no movement to sit or remove his armour. “Darling-” 

“Turn for me, my lord. I need to remove your armour.” 

He nodded once more, turning as requested. The tension was palpable, but neither of them made any effort to break it. She quickly removed his armour, setting it delicately on the table. “Sit.”

She stood in front of him, leaning down to dress his wounds. His hands ached to reach out and pull her into his lap, but he made no effort; he simply stared at her. “Was the battle difficult?” 

He nodded, hissing as she disinfected a cut. She mumbled apologies. “It was quite the scene. A dragon’s fight is something I hope you never witness.” Y/N simply hummed, concentrating on the cut. “Did you fare well while I was away?” 

She tensed, nodding quickly. “As well as one can do when their husband leaves without a word.” 

Ah. So that is why she had not jumped into his arms when he arrived. Gwayne had wondered why he had not been making his wife sigh and gasp from his tender touch. “I thought it was best if-” 

“You thought wrong.” She murmured, walking over to the bowl of clean water. He couldn’t fight it anymore, reaching out to grab her hips. She gasped but made no effort to look down. 

“Please forgive me.” He tightened his hold, dropping his head against her stomach. “I did not want to wake you.” 

“So I was told.” He looked up, and she sighed. “Your sister.” 

“You looked so peaceful; I did not wish to see you cry.” 

She laughed humourlessly. “Who said I would waste any tears on you?”

He sat back, clutching his chest playfully. “You wound me, wife.” 

She scoffed, squirming in his hold. “You cannot charm me into forgiving you.” 

“I made no such claim.” 

“Yes, well.” She sighed, pulling out of his arms and rinsing the rag. “You thought it. Of that, I am sure.” 

He smiled. Her spirit had always drawn him in. From the first day they had met, she had not withered at the sight of a lord. She held her ground, staying as strong as she was. “Withering is for flowers,” she told him. “I am no flower.” He laughed, placing a daisy behind her ear. “No. But you are as pretty as one.” That had made her blush. How he wished they could go back to then when everything was much simpler. When the thought of dragon fire didn’t threaten their very lives, their children’s lives. 

She stood back in front of him, but this time, he put his hands on her hips, pulling her into his lap. Her cheeks grew red, and she looked down at his neck, tending to a rather nasty bruise. “My love, please look at me.” 

“I can’t look at you.” She shook her head defiantly. “I am angry at you.” 

“Y/N-” He cupped her cheek with his hand, caressing it with his thumb.

“Don't!” She yelped like she’d been burned, jumping up. “You left me. I woke up, and you were gone. No note, no kiss goodbye. What if you had died?” She scoffed. “But no, ‘I looked too peaceful to wake.’ That is a horrid excuse. You’re a coward, Gwayne Hightower. A coward.” 

Gwayne stood up, his eyebrows furrowed. “Now, wait just a moment-” She hit his chest, tears streaming down her face. “How could you? Do you know how worried sick I was? Do you?” 

“Stop this.” 

She shook her head, continuing to beat at his chest. “Don’t ever do-” 

He grabbed her wrists delicately, stopping her. “Stop this madness.” His voice was gentle, not a trace of anger or annoyance found.

She sobbed. “You mongral. Let me-” 

“I understand that you are upset, my darling. But surely you realize this is not the solution.” He lowered his head, their lips inches apart. “I wanted to remember my happy girl. No tears.” 

“I wouldn’t have cried.” She murmured, still fighting against his hold. 

“As opposed to what you are doing now?” 

She glared at his chest. “You are without a doubt the most-” Releasing one of her wrists, he brought his hand to her chin, raising her head gently. When she still refused to look at him, he leaned down, kissing her nose, cheeks, and forehead until she finally gave in to his love.

“I have to admit, I was rather disappointed at the reception I received.” 

“If only you had left a note.” She mumbled. “Never do that to me again. Promise me, Gwayne.” 

He nodded, kissing each knuckle gently. “I swear to you.”

She wanted to take him to bed, admire his form, and thank the gods old and new that he was with her and not dead on a battlefield, but the reality was he still had many cuts that needed to be tended to, and he desperately needed get the stench of battle off his skin. 

“You need a bath.” 

“Are you insinuating that I smell?” Gwayne tilted his head, a jesting look on his face. She nodded, giggling. 

“Terribly.”

He groaned, letting her out of his hold. “Very well.” 

Y/N couldn’t help but wince as she watched him peeled off his shirt. “Let me help you.” 

“I can do it-” She glared, and he gave in immediately. “Fine, fine.” 

She nodded, carefully untying the top before lifting his shirt. Her cheeks grew bright red, his torso still as muscular as the day they were married. Throwing his shirt on the ground, her breath caught. His eyes were piercing hers once more, drawing her in. She smiled, kissing a cut on his chest gently. “Does this hurt?” 

It was his turn for his breath to catch. He shook his head, words failing. Another cut, another bruise; she followed the trail until it stopped at a cut on his lower lip. 

“My noble boy.” She kissed his lip lightly, sending shivers down the brave knight’s spine. This time, when he gave her that look, she couldn’t resist it. She placed her arms around his neck, pulling his lips down to hers. “I missed you so.” 

He groaned, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him. “I’m so sorry, my darling. Please forgive me.” 

“There is nothing to forgive. I was acting a fool.” She sighed as he nipped down her neck. “Gwayne, the bath…”

“I promise you I will bathe, but if I do not have you this instant, I will simply combust.” 

They stumbled over to the door, locking it haphazardly. “Take me to bed.” 

“I will, I will, but first…” He turned her around, undoing her laces quickly. He groaned. “Good god, woman, how many laces can a dress have?” 

She laughed, throwing her head back. “Woman?” 

“Forgive me. My lady, light of my life, darling, love-” 

Now she was fully cackling, and turned around, smothering his face his affection. “Let us retire, please.” 

He nodded, the laces finally coming undone. She stumbled backward, drawing him in with her spell. He tapped his chin, tilting his head. “I was about to do something.” 

She raised her eyebrows. “I believe, lord husband, you were about to ravish me.” 

He grinned, stalking towards her. “Thank you, my lady, for reminding me.” 

[sorrowfulrosebud]

Katsuki fumbled as the heavy wooden door of your mansion was nearly slammed in his face, you being the cause. Your infuriated strides didn’t stop as you reached the kitchen.

Katsuki felt his eyes burn and bile rise in his throat as he tried desperately to reach you.

“Baby, please! It was one time, and I didn’t even kiss her-,” he rambles worriedly, taking a step aback as you turn around.

Your eyes held nothing but pure fire and pain.

“Oh my FUCKING GOD Katsuki! You didn’t kiss her?! Oh that’s just wonderful, I totally forgive you for going behind my FUCKING BACK and fucking other women! That makes everything okay now!” You cry? Laugh? You couldn’t tell anymore.

Katsuki winces at your tears, pearly streaks of his own staining his cheeks. He reaches for you, heart breaking when you flinch away from him.

“Baby-,” he starts.

“Don’t you fucking DARE call me that you disloyal bastard,” you sob.

“I gave you my EVERYTHING, you son of a bitch! The nights I spent slaving over that fucking stove so YOU wouldn’t go hungry! I broke my back cleaning this fucking house, I give up my social life so we can be together, I bust my fucking ass doing stuff in bed I don’t want to do, ALL FOR YOU! I gave you EVERYTHING! So don’t you fucking dare try and have some balls now.” You sob through gritted teeth.

Katsuki sinks to his knees, openly sobbing and grabbing your hands. You tried forcing them back, but his grip was relentless. He pressed tearful kisses to your hands, amplifying your pained sobs.

“(Y/N), please! It was the worst mistake of my entire fucking life, of OUR lives. It was an act of stupidity, and if I could go back in time I would kill past me for even looking at her. It’s YOU I love, not her. It’s you, it’s always been you,” he gasped for breath, looking up at you. You paused.

“AAAAAAAND CUT! That was a great take everyone, go grab some lunch and be back in an hour to continue the shoot,” the director shouts, hopping off his pedestal.

You wiped your tears off, cursing the added tear stick as you laughed.

“Jesus Christ, that was a rough scene. How are you, baby?” You look down at him. Your smile was warm, a complete contrast to the character in the series you were acting in. Katsuki made no move to wipe his tears.

He rose slowly, before wrapping his arms around you tightly. He sniffled as he held you as close as possible, kissing the side of your face.

“Baby, are you alright? It was just a scene!” You giggle, kissing him on the forehead.

“If I ever make you sad like that, I need you to kill me. I would rather die than make you cry the way you just did,” he sniffed, wiping his nose and holding your cheeks.

“Aw sweetie. I know you’d never cheat on me. I love you so, so, so much. I guess we just did too good a job acting,” you giggle. You pull him in closer for a kiss, wiping his tears and playing with his baby hairs.

“I love you so much. Never ever forget that,” he says firmly. You nod, before squeezing out of his grip and tapping his ass playfully.

“Of course angel, now let’s get lunch. Sato made enchiladas and I’m craving them so badly,” you kiss him again. Katsuki’s phone beeped, and he checked before grimacing slightly.

“I’ll be right there babe, Eijiro’s complaining about something,” he says, squeezing your sides and sending you off.

You’re so fucking right, baby. He thought. His chest bloomed in pain. Ochaco’s bunched up tits stared right back at him in picture form, taunting him.

I did too good of an acting job.

[killerkillerkillher]

Bound to Fall in Love

Angel/Demon! 141 x reader

Tags: kidnapping, sacrifices, religious references, reader is too angry to die, reader commits murder lol, canon typical violence??, reader gets a kissy on the forehead, a tad crack-ish

Inclusivity tags: reader is referred to w he/him and they/them pronouns, no bodily description, no y/n

A/n: call my brain an apple w all the worms it's got. This was just a blurb at first, but I made room in there for me to potentially make it into... something I guess.

minors dni!

"Cole, I can't fucking focus while they're just... staring at us like that."

"Ignore it, Bess. We have to finish these candles."

You wish a bolt of lightening would come down and strike all three of you at once. Or maybe the building spontaneously combusting would be better. Anything, anything, would be better at this moment than watching your boyfriend and best friend work together to light a summoning circle after having tied you up in your sleep.

For a fraction of a second, you wonder if any gods are watching, if any of them would be willing to give you a boon and allow you one last chance to punch both of these betrayers in the face.

"Okay, okay, the book," Bess mutters, going to the pick up her ritual book from the coffee table you bought. Honestly, if they were going to try to sacrifice you somewhere, your living room is one of the most disrespectful places. Probably right under your bed room.

"I'm sorry," Cole has the gaul to look down at you with a face stricken with grief. Like you're dead already. "We didn't know what else to do. We're both in bad places and you've always been so good to us, so we figured-"

"You better hope this fucking kills me." You grunt. Cole's face melts into a glare. "Because if I'm still breathing, it's going to take more than Satan's intervention to save you from me. I swear on my mother." You jerk forward, making him jump back a step.

"Cole...?" Bess looks at you, then up at Cole with unease. Cole doesn't say anything for a second, sorting his feelings out with a leer before turning to her.

"Read the book."

He drags you into the middle of their pentagram while she sings Latin words off the old book pages. The candles flicker and waver before their flames grow twice as tall. Cole rolls you onto your back and pulls a knife from his back pocket.

"I meant it when I said I'm sorry," Cole mutters. You snarl, but don't jump at him like you want to.

"Yeah? Yeah, you're sorry? Kiss my ass!" You shout over Bess's reading. "If I'm still alive after this, I'm killing you and burying you in the fucking septic tank!" You crane your head up so you can see Bess as well. "Time to get some stuff off my chest, yeah? Bess, I fucked your older brother on the day we graduated."

Her eyes go wide, and she almost stops talking, but Cole shoots her a look that forces her to continue.

"And his friend Carl, the one you had a crush on. And Cole? I never. Fucking. Finished. Ever! You are the only person I've dated who couldn't get me off." Cole's hand's twitch around the blade.

"Are you serious?"

"Does now look like a time to- ack!" You don't get to finish because Bess finished the spell and it was time for your blood to fuel it. The blade buries in your gut, turning this way and that way at measured increments. You just lay there and twitch, breathy gasps falling from your gaping mouth, the pain only throwing fuel to the fires of your rage.

"Please, we call you here! Honor us with your presence!" Bess chants. Cole step away from you when the candles roar and your vision is filled with bright red and orange.

The ground beneath you rumbles. Whispers fill your ears, nothing you can ever imagine understanding, but something tells you they're other summoners. Or maybe little souls of those who were just where you are now, with a people sacrificing them.

It's odd, you think as blood soaks your back, your hair. You thought you'd be more scared in what could be your final moments. But there's only anguish where there should be fear. Only unfettered violent tension felt in your muscles, and a tongue hungering for iron and gore. You're jaw is wound tight enough to shatter your teeth.

If you could think straight, if you weren't about to die, you might be a little concerned. Never have you wanted to sink your fingers into someone's soft bits as much as you do now. This is normal, right? A normal amount of rage for the people taking your life.

Something in your gut tells you it's not.

In the fog of your rage, you missed the appearance of a pair of men above you. They hover, leathery plum colored wings sagging. One wears a leather strap harness across his chest, while the other favors an unbuttoned silk shirt. One of them looks at you curious as the fire dies, steam and copper colored smoke bellowing from his mouth. A thick cigar hangs on his lips.

"You came! There's... two of you?" Cole gawks, then falls to his knees beside Bess. You can't help but scoff at their sniveling forms.

"We did. There are." The one without the cigar brushes back his long mohawk to get a better look at the whimpering humans. They're nothing new to them, just another set of weak little things looking to get something without putting in the work for it.

Well, they might have had to put in the work to capture you, based on the way you still squirm and fight the rope keeping your arms together. So much blood has left you. You are going to die. Yet you spend your last moments doing what most humans find to be a waste of precious time. Being angry. It's interesting.

"What do you want?" The bearded one in the silk shirt grunts out around his cigar. Bess lifts her head just a bit to speak.

"We want to make a trade. A soul for a better life for us."

There's a moment of silence. You blink your heavy lids, growing too tired to do much else anymore. Both demons look back at you, then to the kneeling humans.

"They're not dead." They say at the same time.

Bess and Cole stiffen and finally chance a glance at you. You're bleeding, a glassy look to your eye and a smile on your face, but you're not dead.

"See, Bess?" You cough up blood only to swallow it back down, "what did I tell you? The cunt can't make me come and can't... can't even make me go."

The mohawked devil pops a wicked smile, not even hiding it from his would-be contractors.

Cole fumes. "I can finish the job. Fuck, am I going to finish the job." He stands, moving to step into the circle only to yelp, the invisible border around the summoning circle becoming visible if only to shock Cole back.

"Not so fast," the bearded one spawns a scroll in his hand. He's eyes glow a molten orange as he scans it. "Section 1, clause 3, part 19 states: executioner(s) must sacrifice one(1) human soul to contractee(s)... Let's see... Here it is: Sacrificee(s) must be dead upon arrival so that proper collection can be done. If sacrificee(s) is still soul bond upon arrival, then they are made the true contractor and all work will be conducted with them."

"In other words," the mohawked one grinned, "you should have went for the heart." He taps at his chest.

"Or the neck." The other devil offers.

"Or that vein in they're thigh."

"The sephenous, Johnny."

"Yeah, that."

"No, no!" Cole grabs at his hair as Bess looks like she's about to start crying. You want to laugh. They deserve the despair. They deserve the horror in their mistake. They were going to kill you!

"That means," the devils lean back to look at you. "You're our contractor. You get two requests at the price of one, human. I suggest one of those requests includes healing you." He flicks the ashes of his cigar on your leg. You don't even have to think of what you want most right now.

"I want you to untie me." You roll on your side. They wait for the rest. Cole and Bess look like they're going to shit themselves from the pale faced looks of terror they give you. Your eyes narrow. "And a hammer. A old fashioned iron and wood handled hammer."

Another beat of silence before the infernals bend over in laughter. The room shacks, sulfuric smoke pouring from their mouths to funk up the room. Cole tries to cox Bess to her feet while they're distracted. Their feet can't move though. It's like they're glued in placed and no amount of pulling and tugging could get them loose. Shame.

"Yer a funny one, love. I'll love having your soul for a few eternities." The one in leather floats over you, tilting his head this way and that way to get a good look at you. You settle him with a neutral look. "My name is Johnny. You sure that's what you want? I think you've only got a few minutes left in you."

"Then let's hurry this up a little, huh?"

"Ooh, you heard 'em." The cigared one snickers and snaps his claws. Two contracts appear in front of your face, both written in a language you can hardly comprehend. A pen appeared in front of your mouth. "Sign on the dotted line please."

You take the quill in your mouth, dip it in the blood beneath you.

"Rah 'ere?"

"Mhm."

You lean forward to dot the paper with your sloppy signature, but bizarrely enough, it seems like the powers that be have decided that they haven't made enough appearances. The floor trembles, and you worry about your poor infrastructure for a fraction of a second, when a set of gold doors spawn right behind you. You roll back onto your back to intake everything. You swear you're hallucinating when a pair of white winged angels step out, the clouded blue of heaven at their back.

"Hello?" You greet stupidly. You must be losing your mind, right? What the fuck is happening.

"Do not sign a thing." The bronzen angel instructs. "Human, we are here as messengers. God sees great things for you in your ascension. Please do not squander that to these demons." He shoots a sharp look at the demonic pair. The angel's counterpart wears a white cloak, obscuring all but his glowing golden eyes. You half expect him to sing "Be not afraid." despite you actively shitting bricks.

Oddly enough, their appearence seems to have some sort of healing property. Your lethargy starts to clear and the blade in your gut starts to get pushed out. Nothing hurts anymore.

"Oh, so we've got a big soul on our hands here, huh?" Johnny smirks. "Price, what's the plan?"

Price the devil throws his cigar to the ground and crushes it.

"Do what we do best. Bargain."

"Don't play with us, Price." The shrouded angel grunts. He's got a mind piercing voice that's got your head ringing, and you swear it echoes despite the room being well furnished. "We can provide them with just as much, if not more, at no cost of their soul." Those gold orbs land on you. "All we ask for is your faith."

"Jesus fucking Christ!" You tug at your bonds with renewed vigor. The angels wince at the mention of their Lord, but only watch as you force yourself upright. "I could not give a rat's ass who gets what! How about this? First one to get me free and a hammer in hand gets my loyalty."

There's two resounding snaps from either side of you. The ropes disappear, a hammer is in your left and right hand. You don't think deeper on what that implies. You finally stand, dropping the hammer in your nondominant hand, and march over to the two people you thought you could trust. They kneel now, seemingly ready to beg for their souls.

"Come on, don't look scared now." You drop your hands on your hips. "What happened to you finishing the job?"

"I didn't want-"

"Say it with your chest." You poke his breast plate with the iron hammer head.

"I didn't want it to come to this!" Cole yells. The divine audience doesn't say anything about it. They watch you curiously as you bounce the hammer in hand. Your soul is visible to them. What should be a glowing ball of light is a red and white morning star, all sharp edges and pulsing like a heart. Your soul will certainly not end up with the others, that much is true.

"I just... I couldn't keep up with you! Your life style, the way you act, your job. I never left good enough. Bess expressed the same thing and we just... clicked. We would have just left, but we could have never lived without struggling, so we just..." He swallows. You can't look at him anymore, hands clenching at what he says next. "The book called for someone we cared for."

''That supposed to make me feel better?" You tilt your head. Cole winces, eyes falling on your feet. You look to Bess. "Thought you were better than this. You were going to kill me. Because what, I was happy? I loved both of you, you could have just talked to me."

"We're sorry! What more do you want?" Bess sobs. You straighten up, bouncing the hammer on your hip, acting like you next action is something to deliberate. You already know what they deserve, and a flash of sadness bubbles in your chest, but it quickly passes as a hot, searing emotion burns a hole into what little hesitation you had left.

"Reckon I want your souls after all the shit you've caused." You grin before swinging the hammer back and caving in Cole's chest.

"Fuck..." is all you can say after everything is done. Cole and Bess lay in a bloody heep, all recognizable features destroyed and crushed. You pant, hands trembling and nothing but white noise and static crunching around in your head. You just killed your best friend and boyfriend. For some reason, you've never felt so light.

Someone's whistle gets followed by a clap.

"Impressive. Done that before?" Johnny chuckles. He floats closer, hand running down your back as he moves past and pokes around the pulped organs. "Shite, did them right in. Can't tell which is which."

"I've never-" you start to answer, but hands are clapped onto your shoulders, shocking you into silence.

"Well, that was a good place to start, lad. Your swings were a bit sloppy, but we can fix that." Price squeezes at your trapezius, massaging the stiffness out of them. A throat clears, and Price sighs like he forgot there was other company.

"We aren't finished. The human is our ward now, Price." The uncloaked angel snaps his finger, pulling you from Price and making you spawn between the two angels. The bronzen angel smiles down at you with teeth so white you could damn near see your reflection.

"There you are. It's nicer to have you close. My friend here is Simon and I'm-"

"Come on, Kyle, you know he's ours!" Johnny spits, his wings flaring out. "We gave him the hammer first, so piss off."

"Uh...huh." Kyle's smile falls. "I think you're a bit mistaken. Look, after executing the human's request, I have his name here." A stone slab appears in front of your face. It's smells like sunshine and warm grass. What the fuck. "His pledge to the Lord has been set and his soul already has a place next to Their throne."

"Right, right, like we don't have documentation neither." Johnny huffs. The stone disappears as a scroll appears next to the devil. The smell of sulfur and smoke wafts over to you. "His name is right there, pretty boy. Getting yer fuckin' lookers on."

Kyle ignores the rude tone and does pull out a pair of reading glasses to go over the scroll. You stand there in the silence, a little too scared to speak up. What could you do anyway? In a blind anger, you didn't really have the mind to think any of this out. Angels and devils are fighting over you because you'd stupid ass was too blood hungry to think past murder. All that can be done is for them to figure this out amongst themselves, and for you to wait for the sentencing. Heaven, or Hell?

"...Simon." Kyle slowly pulls his glasses off. "This is legit. His soul is promised to all of us."

You glance up at Simon, the scary motherfucker. He blinks. Once. Twice. Then pinches the bridge of his nose with a hagard sigh.

"Shit."

That's not good.

Johnny laughs, Price grinning like a dog with a bone. Kyle marches over to you, patting your shoulders with an awkward smile. His demeanor reminds you of the way your mom acted when she said she was going to divorce your dad. And all you can think is "Not this again." Are you going to be spending your afterlife going between heaven and hell forever? Does God get weekends because Their day is Sunday or whatever?

"We need to go and talk this over with some superiors. We'll clean this up," Kyle snaps and the gore is gone, so is the ritual circle and candles. "And we'll get back to you in the morning." He places a feather light kiss on your forehead, and suddenly you're squeaky clean and in the softest set of pajamas you've ever worn. "Stay safe while we're gone and don't allow these two to influence you. Get some rest."

"Blah, blah, blah," Johnny mocks from the sidelines. Price tilts his head, and there's nothing but amusement behind those eyes. Yeah, this is exactly like your parents divorce.

"O-okay? I mean, I'll try." You shrug.

Simon nods. "That's all you can do." He steps back into the golden doorway and Kyle falls in stride. You make some distance, and with a final wave from a white toothed angel, the doors shut with a slam that shakes the house's foundation.

"Just you and us now, stud."

You turn with a comedic slowness to the devils. Price chuffs and floats forward. His assess you, takes you in in all your fluffy white pajama glory, and it seems he finds what he wants when he nods.

"Guess we've got to talk with top brass to see what's going on ourselves. Pity we couldn't stick around longer." The devil's eyes never meet yours, staying glued to various parts of your face. They hop from ears, to your eyebrows, down to your lips. Christ on a bike, is it getting hot in here? His blue, glowing cerulean eyes appear to flash with something.

"Shite, yer right." Johnny groans. "I hate going down there."

"Suck it up, love. You know how I feel about sharing." Price drops his interest in you like an old toy and takes Johnny close by his waist. You watch with a lead poisoned stare as their noses touch intimately, words you can't hear being exchanged. It's kinda of awkward to just stand there and watch but your brain isn't really functioning well enough to tell you to stop.

"Hey, stud." You blink, refocusing on the pair. Johnny seems to have climbed his partner, his legs on his waist and arms around his neck. Price makes busy opening a portal to hell in your livingroom with one hand, supporting Johnny under his ass with the other. "Sit pretty, yeah? 'll be back before those two arseholes, promise."

"Right... yeah." You nod. "Uh, be safe?"

"Be safe, he says." Price mutters. "Cute." Johnny waves until Price steps through the infernal hole and falls from view. The portal closes right behind him so you'd have no hopes of seeing anything but the red hue of smog and dust.

And here you are. A little dazed, a little sad, probably holding back a break down from the last hour of events. But you're alive and you're healed. There's no blood to clean, you're in comfortable pajamas. Could probably sleep right now if your brain would stop for a minute, but it doesn't look like that's in the plans.

So you look for something to do. Cole and Bess and moved around all your furniture to make the summoning circle. Guess you can start there, right?

[alottiegoingon]

hc! beecoming three

lottie matthews x fem!reader

summary: the one where you are pregnant and lottie loves to take care of you

warnings: endless amount of fluff it might make you throw up, established relationship, lottie and reader live together, characters are aged up, lottie being protective and an angel, mentions of sex but nothing explicit, not proofread

@l0tt1emy i hope you like this bby

𓆦 ever since you told lottie that she was going to be a mom, she became the happiest woman to ever live

𓆦 it’s not like neither of you weren’t expecting it to happen and had spent lots of money so you could finally be moms, but it was a pleasant surprise

𓆦 except for the fact that lottie’s life only purpose was to take care of you now and it was starting to concern you

𓆦 “baby, just come to bed,” you pout, tapping the empty space on your side as you begged her to join you

𓆦 after dinner, lottie had spent hours fixing the smallest details ever on the baby’s bedroom and organizing a huge bag with itens that could be needed for when you two had to rush to the hospital

𓆦 “but we need to be ready! what if the baby decides to come earlier?” she stops by the door holding diapers, with messy hair sticking to her sweaty forehead and looking exactly like 🥺

𓆦 “lott, the baby is six weeks old”

𓆦 lottie would always wake up early to make you breakfast, trying her best to make it healthy and nutritious for you and the baby. at some days, it was still dark outside when you tattered for her in bed but she wasn’t there because she got up at like 5am to get ingredients for meals

𓆦 when you decided to wake up earlier than usual after noticing her absence, you walk on your tiptoes to the kitchen just to find her mixing the ingredients for pancakes in a bowl

𓆦 quietly, you stop behind her and wrap your arms around her waist, briefly giving her cheek a tender kiss and resting your chin on her shoulder. “good morning, love”

𓆦 lottie wasn’t expecting you to be up so early and immediately flinched at your touch, making you two share a good laugh. she looks back at you and kisses your forehead

𓆦 “what are you doing here so early? are you alright? feeling sick? too cold?” she drops everything she’s doing to fully pay attention to you and make sure you are feeling 100% okay, inspecting every inch of your body and even hair

𓆦 “i’m fine,” you say, grabbing lottie’s anxious hands to hold them firmly in order to calm her nerves, “i just missed you. it’s so early, you should be in bed.”

𓆦 “i’m sorry,” lottie, now less anxious, nods and let go of your hands to gently place her warm touch on your stomach and slowly rub her fingers in a caress

𓆦 “i know i’m exaggerating but i just want everything to be okay,” she pouts and you felt the sudden urge to just squeeze her 😫

𓆦 “everything is fine, lottie. everything will be okay thanks to you,” you smile at her, getting closer to cup her cheeks and smooch her entire face

𓆦 eventually, she got less nervous about everything, not worrying or overthinking the small details too much. that doesn’t mean that she was any less eager to please you

𓆦 a few weeks later, you were in bed and it was past midnight when you couldn’t sleep, craving some ice cream. you didn’t want to wake up lottie and make her leave just to get you stupid ice cream but you would die for it at this point!

𓆦 “do you think the market is open now?” you whisper, turning your head to face lottie. it was almost instantly. the second she connected the words ‘market’ and ‘now’ her eyes fluttered open and she was already getting out of bed

𓆦 “i’m on my way, baby! what do you want?” she doesn’t even change clothes, just put a sweatshirt on top of her pajamas and heads out when she got all the information she needed

𓆦 thirty minutes later, lottie called you from the kitchen and the first thing you see when you get there is the counter covered in lots of ice cream with different flavors and a bunch of sweets and chips as well

𓆦 “oh my god,” you gasp, eyes wide open at the scary amount of food

𓆦 “i wasn’t sure if you liked vanilla so i decided to get others as well,” she explained with a super proud smile, “and some other stuff too cause i don’t want you to be hungry”

𓆦 before feasting on a full carton of ice cream, you were pretty sure that lottie almost ran out of breath thanks to your endless kisses and tight hugs

𓆦 singing to the baby was her thing. lazy sundays would be followed by lottie’s soothing voice singing the most beautiful songs ever and, sometimes, songs she wrote herself

𓆦 not only could she sing but she could spend hours speaking to your belly. telling the baby stories from your teenage years or gossiping about aunties taissa and van, reading stories or just being an adorable goofball, lottie was always near

𓆦 sitting on bed, lottie was lying on your side, elbows against the mattress for support and face inches away from your small bump

𓆦 “fuck!” she gasps, quickly withdrawing her hand from you as she feels the baby kicking into her touch. she was freaking out!

𓆦 “wait, sorry, i meant to say duck! please don’t repeat that,” she talks to the baby, hurrying to get closer again and place her entire palm on you, smiling incredibly big

𓆦 “i think the baby likes your voice, lott,” you whisper, tucking a few strands of her hair behind her ear, keeping your fingers in there to rub her scalp

𓆦 “you think so?” she lift her head up to meet your gaze and she’s adorable. her face lights up like a fucking christmas tree ☹️

𓆦 lottie was having the time of her life any time she had to go out with you to shop baby clothes, accessories for the nursery or, really, anything related to you and your child. decorating the nursery was also her favorite activity

𓆦 she would buy thousands of plushies and cute blankets, millions of colorful books and lots of toys even though the baby wasn’t due for another five months

𓆦 “you won’t believe what i got for our baby!” is the first thing she says as she opens the door, running towards the couch where you were in with a box

𓆦 she lets you open and it’s a TINY SHIRT OF THE YELLOWJACKETS TEAM WITH THE NUMBER ZERO ON IT 😔

𓆦 when it became impossible for you to sleep, always sick, irritated, swollen or just exhausted, lottie would stick to your side and would try her best to not fall asleep

𓆦 “i’m not sleepy, i promise. go on, finish that story,” she murmurs with a tired and raspy voice in the pitch black of the bedroom. you couldn’t see her properly but you felt comfortable with your head resting on her shoulder and her hand around your body

𓆦 “so, jackie was telling me that shauna told her that mari once said that she found a recipe for a soup that included boiling a belt!” the tiny remains of any sleep you had inside you vanished as you were gossiping with your girlfriend

𓆦 “can you believe that? and who would ever eat a boiled belt for dinner? people are so crazy nowadays and i-“ you abruptly stop, shifting positions to look up at lottie snoring

𓆦 “oh, you’re sleeping,” you whisper, tightening your lips to suppress a giggle

𓆦 lottie was worried 24/7 but also extremely protective. even if it was extremely hot outside, she would beg you to carry a jacket with you

𓆦 she thought about bringing a spare jacket for you and carry it around just in case you got cold but she really wanted to give you her jacket cause pooks is just a hopeless romantic angel 🤗

𓆦 lottie was very gentle and careful all the time, but when it came to sex, you could practically beg her to do you and she would still be so hesitant

𓆦 not even when giving her very obvious hints like whining on her ear all day long about how needy you were, letting innocent touches linger or putting on a nice lingerie would be enough to convince her. lottie was too worried with the idea of accidentally hurting you

𓆦 just when lottie was much more used to the daily routine of living with her pregnant girlfriend, you wake her up in the middle of the night, poking her shoulder. “lottie? wake up.”

𓆦 taking all the time in the world to turn the small lamp on, lottie knows that everything is fine. you probably just wanted her to get you something to eat or a drink. the lamp on

𓆦 “want some water, love?” she asks, half asleep, rubbing her eyes that were still adjusting to the light

𓆦 “no, i’m okay. but i think the baby is coming,” you whisper, trying not to panic and to not make your girlfriend panic. the baby was early by four weeks!

𓆦 lottie’s sleepy expression and drowsy eyes quickly fade away as she bolts out of the bed, hitting her knee against the bed frame on her way to you

𓆦 “i told you we should have packed the things for the hospital before!!!”

[celiastjamesoscar]

Say Yes to Heaven

Pairings: Sam Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: It was never Sam’s intention to fall in love with you, but after countless nights tangled up in sheets together, she fell for you. But her love came with consequences, and she knew she could never provide you with the life you needed. So she broke up her arrangement with you, breaking your heart in the process as well.

Trope: friends with benefits

Warnings: mentions of smut at the beginning, angst, insecure and extremely soft Sam, cussing, Sam protecting reader from herself (Sam), self-destructive Sam, Billy slanders Sam

My Masterlist

AN: ‘Say Yes to Heaven’ heavily inspired this. In Lana we trust!

Word Count: 11.8K

With a heavy sigh and a small prayer, Sam clocked out of the cafe. It was nearing 11:30 at night, and she wanted to sleep and maybe do a few fun activities with you before that.

When Sam moved to New York, she was ready to put her past behind her and steer clear of relationships for a while, at least until she met you.

You were working on a project with Tara when Sam first met you, and she was immediately enthralled with you. Where Sam never smiled, you always wore a smile on your lips, and where Sam had dark, haunting eyes, yours lit up every room you walked in.

You and Sam were complete opposites, but you fit together like puzzle pieces. So, when Tara had invited you over for a late-night hangout with the group and got a few beers in the mix, you walked past the bathroom and heard Sam talking to herself.

“You okay?” You worriedly asked as you gently knocked on the half-opened door. Sam turned her head and gave you a weak smile, “Yeah, I’m okay.” But how her eyes refused to meet your own and her eyes seemed darker told you a different story.

So, you approached the woman and placed your hand on her tricep and gently rubbed up and down, trying your best to comfort the girl. “Just so you know, I’m here for you, Sam. I always will be,” you said with a smile.

She didn’t know why, but when Sam was with you, you always quieted her father’s voice, and when she pressed her lips against yours, his voice was completely gone.

The soft and eager kisses you shared in the bathroom were your first with her but certainly not your last. The gasps and muffled moans that escaped Sam’s lips were the closest you had ever been to magic, but you were quickly pulled back to reality when Sam pulled away and left you in the bathroom.

You continued the night as if nothing had happened between you and the older woman, but when you got up to go to the bathroom, Sam slipped a note in your hand as she returned to the living room from her bedroom. You nearly fainted when you read the beautiful penmanship that said, ‘My room at 2.’

When the time reached two, and thankfully, everyone else was asleep, you snuck off to Sam’s room and were instantly greeted by her soft lips assaulting your own. The soft moans you pulled from Sam sounded like angels singing, and when you tasted her, you knew you could never get enough. If God would allow it, you would live and die between Samantha Carpenter’s thighs, and it would be the best life you could possibly live.

And that’s how your arrangement came to be with the woman; two or three times a week, you would meet up and have sex but act like friends in public. You weren’t going to lie; it hurt you, but you wouldn’t complain as long as you had her.

Recalling your first time together, Sam smiled as she drove to her apartment and eagerly sent you a text asking you to come over once she got home. By the time she arrived at her place, she only had enough time to take a quick shower before you were eagerly knocking at her door.

The smile on your face was almost comical when Sam opened the door and quickly pulled you into a kiss. Your lips danced with hers as you stumbled into her room and locked the door. You gently pushed Sam down on the bed and peppered kisses along her jawline and neck. “Is Tara home?” You muttered between kisses on her neck. “No. Mindy’s,” Sam said heavily as her fingers started to scratch down your back.

“Good,” you replied before kissing Sam’s lips and removing her shirt.

You kissed down her chest and removed her bra before worshiping her breasts. Your lips left a trail of soft kisses and rough hickeys as they traveled from her neck to her sternum and down to her hips. Even though Sam was tough on the outside and pretended like she didn’t need to be taken care of, she was the softest with you.

The sex you had with Sam was the softest and most genuine you had ever had before, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything. The way Sam would intertwine your hands when you were buried between her thighs, eating her out like she was your last meal on earth was something that had your heart do flips, and when she pulled you up to her lips and gently cupped your cheeks before kissing you; you knew she liked it soft more than anything else.

You loved the beautiful pleas and moans that left Sam’s lips as you gently kissed and nipped at her thighs before focusing on where she needed you the most. And you groaned when you felt Sam’s hand fly into your hair and tug, roughly encouraging you to keep it up.

The aftercare was probably what you enjoyed the most; the way Sam wanted to be cuddled after her orgasm to remind herself that you wouldn’t leave her made you fall in love with her. You would provide her with water and maybe even some snacks while you prepared a bubble bath for you two to share, and Sam melted into your hold as she relaxed her back against your front, enjoying the hot water with you. When you would wash her hair and run your fingers through it, a few involuntary moans would escape Sam’s lips, and you would chuckle before placing a few chaste kisses on the hickeys that littered her neck.

“I love it when you do that,” you would mumble against her neck and Sam would slightly turn her head and press her lips to yours, silently telling you to keep it up.

There were rare moments throughout your life where you were sure about something, but you were confident that your purpose on this earth was to please and cater to Sam; you would live and die a happy life if that were all you did.

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

The soft sound of labored breathing could be heard within Sam’s room. After countless hours of enjoying each other’s bodies, Sam lay naked on your bare chest. You traced gentle patterns on Sam’s back with your left hand while you held Sam’s hand with your other, and she kissed your collarbone before leaning up to look at you. “Can I tell you something?” She asked with honest eyes even though her tone seemed scared.

You didn’t know about Sam’s past, and she was grateful for that, even though she was positive you knew about the rumors circulating on the internet about her. But you never asked, and she felt that she owed you for that. Sam was comfortable with you, which terrified her; when she was comfortable, she was vulnerable, and Sam didn’t know if she could trust you. But when she looked into your eyes and saw nothing but love and understanding, she knew she could trust you with everything; her body, her heart, her soul, her past.

You placed a quick kiss on her lips before speaking in a quiet tone, “Of course, Sam; what is it?” With a sigh, Sam leaned her head on your chest and told you everything: how her actual father was Billy Loomis, how her adoptive father left, the Ghostface attacks, her drug addiction, her schizophrenia, and how she saw her dead father, everything.

Sam expected you to get up and leave or tell her that you wanted to break things off. Hell, she even expected you to scream at her and leave her too, but when she felt you place the softest kiss on her head and whisper, “You’re still my Sammy,” all her worries disappeared. She knew it wasn’t a part of your deal, but she slowly felt herself falling for you, and you also fell for her.

Sam leaned up from your chest and stared into your love-struck ones. “I don’t deserve you,” she choked out with a laugh as tears welled in her eyes. You shook your head and cupped Sam’s cheeks with your hands. “Don’t you ever say that, Sam. You deserve to be loved; you deserve to have someone in your life who cares for you and will do anything for you. You deserve to know what peace feels like,” you stated as you kissed her Cupid’s bow, “Samantha Carpenter, you deserve all of the love in the world.”

And when you spoke, Sam knew she was doomed to fall in love with you, but she also knew she was unloveable.

So, she did what she thought was best for you: she broke it off.

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

“I think we should stop this,” Sam admitted one night while you were at her place. You two had the entire apartment to yourselves, and you had been tasting each other for hours. Sam lay on your chest when she spoke but leaned up and moved to hang her legs over the side of the bed as if she was getting ready to stand up. The statement caught you off guard, and you thought it was a joke.

“What? Why?” You asked with a dry laugh as you moved to your left side and gently reached out and rubbed Sam's naked back, but the girl flinched at your delicate touch. “Sam, what’s wrong?” Your heart dropped into your stomach when your lover flinched at your touch, something she had never done before.

“I just think we should stop this,” Sam replied while standing up and walking to her closet. She couldn’t face you while she did this; if it made her coward, so be it. If she saw the heartbreak on your face, she would never forgive herself.

You huffed before leaning up in bed and holding the blankets over your chest.

You admired Sam’s naked body as she picked through her clothes and threw on a loose t-shirt and some sweatpants. “Give me a reason,” you stated, clearly leaving no room for negotiation. “I don’t want to do this anymore,” Sam replied as she gathered your clothes and handed them to you.

With a scoff, you snatched your clothes from Sam and quickly threw them on. “I know you said that, but why? Why would you tell me that after I just fucked you?” You exclaimed with bewilderment in your voice. This wasn’t the Sam you knew, and you knew that something was bothering her.

Sam refused to meet your gaze and crossed her arms, something she only did when trying to isolate herself, “I just think it’s time we moved to different things.” A dry laugh left your lips as you sat down on the end of Sam’s bed. “Different things?’ Sam, you don’t spend six fucking months sleeping with someone and then just decide out of nowhere you don’t want to anymore!” You exclaimed.

“Yes, I can. It’s called having a change of heart. And besides, we both agreed to no strings attached,” Sam defended. You saw the tears in her eyes and how her voice broke when she spoke, but it didn’t make you feel any better.

“Yes, but that was before…” You trailed off with a sigh, “That was before I fell in love with you. I love you, Sam.”

A single tear ran down Sam’s cheek as you spoke; she felt her heart rip into tiny pieces as she took in your confession. She wanted nothing more than to tell you that she loved you, yearned for your soft kisses and sweet words and that her life would mean nothing if she didn’t have you. But Sam knew that she could not provide you with a good life; her schizophrenia would drive you away, along with her haunting past of drug addiction and the Ghostface accusations. She believed she was helping you in the end, even though you couldn’t see it.

“Please, do not say that,” Sam quietly admitted as her lip quivered and another tear fell down her cheek, “Not now, Y/N. Please.”

You moved from the bed and gently gripped Sam’s wrists, and she finally made eye contact with your sullen eyes. “I know you feel it too, Sam. Please, I’m begging you, Give peace a chance, and let the fear you have fall away,” you pleaded with a weak voice as your vision blurred with tears, “Say yes to me.”

Sam knew that if she said yes to you, she’d be saying yes to heaven and all the wonders that included letting herself love you, but it would ruin your life.

With a shake of her head, Sam pulled back from you, “You don’t want me, Y/N. I’m too fucked up to give you the life you deserve, and I’m trying to protect you from that.”

“Fuck that! I want you, Sam. I need you,” you exclaimed as you felt your heart break even more and tears streamed down your face, “Tell me you want me too. I know you do. We do everything couples do, Sam. We go to dinner together, we share a bed, we kiss and have sex. Fuck, we even go on dates together, and I even bring you flowers!”

Sam wrapped her arms around you and gently kissed your forehead as you cried into her chest and gripped her back. “One day, I’ll find someone who isn’t the schizophrenic daughter of a famous serial killer, and they will give you the best fucking life you could possibly have, Y/N. Which is something I can’t give you,” Sam choked out as her tears started to freefall.

You pulled away from Sam’s chest, and your chest tightened when you saw how difficult this was for her. You knew she was only doing this to protect you, but you didn’t want her protection; you wanted her. You both wanted each other, but perhaps this was the best course of action.

With a small sniffle, you left Sam’s room and went to the front door to leave, but you sent Sam one last glance. Sam approached you and handed you your keys and phone. “You might need these,” Sam joked, but it wasn’t funny at all.

You swallowed any pride you had left and kissed her hard for a final time, and you nearly cried when she kissed you back and gripped the back of your neck, pulling you into her and feeling your soft skin against her own for the last time. “You don’t have to do this,” you muttered against her lips, but she pulled back from you and opened the door. “I know, but it’s for your own good,” Sam replied as you stepped out into the hallway.

That was the problem with Sam; she always did things to protect others from herself. She never allowed herself to enjoy things in life, and that even meant you. Sam’s own mother had told her that she was unloveable and she shouldn’t waste her time on relationships because no one would ever want her, so she didn’t want you to waste your time with someone like her. She wanted to allow herself to love, cherish, and kiss you; she longed to tell you that she loved you, but her past traumas prevented her from telling you, so she loved you from a distance.

So when you walked down the hallway and Sam closed the door to her apartment, you felt your heart close for good with it.

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

The days after your split from Sam were blurs; you went to class, did your homework, and slept. You did this for weeks, and you never talked to anyone, too heartbroken to care. You missed your home; you missed your Sam. She was your world, your everything, and in the blink of an eye, you were stranded with nowhere to go.

You could go any you wanted, anywhere you wanted, just not home.

And that killed you. You had never felt heartbreak like this, and you were sure that you would never recover from it. Of course, you knew other people would come along, but no one would ever compare to Sam. You would do anything to have just one more night with her, but you knew it would never work as long as she refused to believe that she deserved happiness.

When you stumbled into your apartment around ten at night, you heard hushed voices in the living room, but you paid them no mind and went into your room.

You had kicked off our shoes when you heard a gentle knock at your door. “Go away,” you replied as you gathered clean clothes for a shower.

The door quickly flung open as Anika marched over to you and forcefully shoved you into your bed. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” She hissed as she stared you down, “You have been so goddamn moody this past month, and you don’t talk to anyone! What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, Anika,” you replied while standing up, but Anika refused to let you get by. “Nope, I don’t believe you. Tell me,” the girl commanded, but you had no mind to tell her what was wrong.

“I’m fine, seriously. School is just getting to me; that’s all,” you said with a fake smile, and Anika did not buy it for one second. But she knew you would talk about it on your own time, so with a sigh, she went to your bedroom door but stopped and faced you, “Just…Come out and talk with the group; they miss you.”

You didn’t have any time to ask Anika who the group was before she left your room and shut your door.

With a sigh, you went into your bathroom, took an excessively long shower, and only got out when no hot water was left. You slowly got dressed and sat on your bed for five minutes, debating if you really wanted to go and socialize, but you sucked it up and left your room.

When Sam saw you enter the living room, her heart cried out for you. Your once bright eyes had dark bags under them, and your cheeks looked hollow, as if you weren’t eating enough. And that beautiful smile you once had was nowhere to be seen; a fake one lived in its place. She knew this was her fault; she was just trying to protect you from her, but seeing you like this destroyed her.

Sam wouldn’t lie; breaking things off with you was the hardest thing she had ever done, and missing you was far worse. She missed you like the stars missed the sun in the morning sky, and she only wanted to have you back, but it was for the best. Not only did she have a lot of baggage, but she was a full six years older than you, and by the time you were her age, you would have already started your life with someone who had their shit together, not a dead-end job and no college degree.

You gave the group a fake smile as you sat in a lonesome chair in the corner of the room. The group consisted of Mindy, Anika, Chad, Tara, and Sam. The woman you loved was sitting on the opposite side of the couch, and you tried your best to keep a great distance between you and her without raising eyebrows.

“Alright, I’m just going to cut to the chase: What the fuck, Y/N? You disappear out of thin air on me, and you don’t return any of my calls,” Tara stated as she looked at you. She didn’t know what had happened between you and her sister, but she had her suspicions once she saw Sam with a hickey on her neck after you came over.

“I’m sorry, Tara. I really am. I have just been swamped with homework, and I’ve been studying for the MCAT,” you stated as you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, not expecting this integration from the more petite girl. It wasn’t a complete lie; the MCAT was murdering you, and you were solely running on coffee and Red Bull, but you weren’t in the mood to admit your love affair with Sam to your friends.

“Mhm,” Tara replied as she glared at you. She didn’t believe you at all and knew something else was bothering you, but she wasn’t going to question you about it in front of people, but she will do it when you two are alone. “So then, would you want to come to my place for a movie night this Sunday?”

You thought about the offer momentarily; you wanted to have a night with your friends, but you didn’t want to be around Sam. “Sure, what time?” You asked while sending a quick glance at Sam, and you noticed that her eyes hadn’t left you since you first walked into the room.

When your eyes locked, your hearts quickened and soon started to beat in sync, as if you two were soul-tied and the universe knew it. You saw how Sam’s dark eyes were darker than usual and how there were stress lines between her eyebrows, and you swore you could see the faintest of gray hair. A slight frown pulled at your lips when you finally realized how much Sam wanted you, but she told herself she couldn’t have you.

“Sometime around 7, if that’s alright with you,” Tara replied with a small smile, completely ignorant about your stare-down with her sister. “Sounds good. I shall be there,” you said.

A small groan left Mindy’s lips as she pushed herself off the couch, “Thank god you two got that sorted out; now it’s time to drink,” she stated as she walked into the kitchen area and pulled out two six-packs.

With a loud thump, Mindy sat them on the coffee table before you and the group, “Anyone thirsty?”

One drink turned into two, two turned into three, and then many more as the night continued. When the time rolled around to one in the morning, you were definitely drunk off your ass, but the alcohol helped numb the pain in your chest.

You were sitting on the couch next to Tara as you watched a comedy movie with the group due to Chad’s selection. “This is such a shitty movie,” Mindy whined while throwing her back to add more effect. A scoff came from Chad as he faced his sister, “‘Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan’ is an awesome movie, actually. You just don’t have taste.”

“That title is the reason this movie sucks,” Mindy replied but shut up once Anika laid her head in the twin’s lap.

You conversed with Tara while Chad watched the movie, and Mindy and Anika fell asleep on the couch together. Sam was sitting on a small chair next to you and Tara but made no effort to join your conversation.

“So, seriously, Y/N. How come you ghosted me?” Tara asked with a slight frown. She missed having you over every weekend even though you only stayed to be knuckles deep in her sister at some point throughout the night.

You fidgeted with your fingers while looking down at the floor, “I’ve just been…” you didn’t know the correct way to word this without throwing Sam under the bus, “I’ve been going through some stuff, and it sucks.”

The younger girl moved closer to you and gently took your hands into her own, “You’re my best friend, Y/N. You can tell me about anything that’s bothering you.”

“I know; it’s just not something I want to talk about. I hope you can understand,” you replied with a weak smile. You felt Sam’s guilt-ridden gaze on yours, and you couldn’t bear to look at her. ‘I’ve got my eye on you,’ Sam thought to herself as her worry grew with every second that passed.

“I understand,” Tara said as she gave your hands a caring squeeze before pulling them back and leaning against the back of the couch, “You know, Sam has also been going through something as well.”

When the words left Tara’s mouth, you instantly perked up, and your eyes locked with Sam’s guilt-ridden ones. “Tara, that’s not for you to share,” Sam remarked through gritted teeth as she stared at her sister. “I know, but maybe that’s something you two could talk about,” Tara stated as she stood up from the couch and stuck an arm toward you and Sam.

You shared a quick glance with Sam and a silent conversation with her before you grudgingly took Tara’s hand and allowed the girl to pull you up from the couch. She did the same with Sam and led you two into your bedroom.

“Do not come back out until you two have talked about your problems,” Tara said with a knowing smile as she locked the door from the inside and left. “I can literally unlock the door,” you mumbled under your breath as you walked to the door and unlocked it.

You sighed as you turned around and faced Sam, and you almost frowned at how out of place she looked. The woman before you had been in your room countless times before, and she practically knew it like the back of her hand, but now, she was just as awkward as when you go over to someone’s house for the first time.

“You can make yourself at home, you know,” you said as you walked to your bed, took off your shoes, and sat down. You rested your back against the headboard and brought your feet onto the bed as Sam approached your bed. “Is it alright if I sit with you?” She quietly asked, and your heart cracked at how weak it was. The voice used to be full of love and certainty, but now it was only a ghost of itself.

“Sam, you’ve been naked in this bed before. Of course, you can join me,” you said with a small laugh before Sam copied your actions from before. When she got comfortable on your bed, you two sat in awkward silence as you stared forward, neither knowing what to say but wanting to say everything.

You looked over at Sam’s, and you noticed the frown on her lips as she battled with her thoughts. “I miss you,” Sam breathlessly admitted, “I know it’s fucked up and wrong of me to say this, but I really do miss you.”

“I miss you too, Sam,” you replied. A wry laughter Sam’s lips, and she choked out, “Some nights, I’ll wake up in an empty bed and think that you’re either in the bathroom or up talking to Tara, so I wait for you to get back. Only, you never show up.”

A small tear ran down your cheek, and your lip quivered as you tried to keep your composure. “I got so used to sleeping in your arms that most nights I cuddle with Squid to go to sleep,” you joked through a broken voice, and Sam couldn’t help but laugh as well.

Squid was your cat sent straight from Hell who hated any affection but somehow loved Tara and only her. Probably because they were both small and evil, but you shrugged it off as both of them being like-minded. You looked at Sam and noticed her hiding her hands in her bomber jacket pockets, something she only did when she saw her father.

“You saw him again. Didn’t you?” You worriedly asked. You knew how Sam got when she saw Billy, and the only way to get her back to her normal self was to comfort her, but she wouldn’t let you do that after she destroyed your heart.

Sam didn’t respond to you, debating on whether she should tell you that CVS ran out of her antipsychotics a few days ago, and Billy was starting to get more persistent. “I’m fine; nothing new,” Sam replied while refusing to meet your piercing gaze.

Of course, you knew she was lying, but you would never pressure her into talking, and it was one of the many things she loved about you.

“Well, if you ever want to talk about it,” you said as you reached over to Sam and gently placed your hand on her thigh, “I’m always here for you.”

Sam’s eyes shot to your hand, and heat instantly crept up her neck at the contact. “Thank you, Y/N, but I’m fine,” Sam mumbled.

“Okay, but if you need anything, you can always call me Sam. No matter what it is, I’ll drop everything and come to you,” you said as you gently squeezed Sam’s thigh before removing your hand and placing it in your lap.

A few awkward beats of silence passed before you quietly asked, “So, how have you been?” Sam chuckled at your question. “You seriously did not ask me that,” Sam joked.

“I don’t know what else to say,” you replied with a small laugh, “But seriously, Sam. How have you been?”

Sam looked at you, and she saw the genuine concern in your eyes. “I feel like I should be asking you that question,” Sam weakly replied. You shrugged your shoulders and smiled at Sam, and the older woman felt all the love she felt for you come flooding back, and all she wanted to do was kiss you.

Instead of giving in to her urges and desires, Sam, once again, decided what was best for you. She got off your bed, and your eyes followed as she opened your door. “This is goodbye, isn’t it?” You asked when she was halfway out the door.

Sam turned to face you, and you saw the tears in her eyes, showing a rare emotion. “I believe so,” Sam replied with a weak smile, “Goodnight, Y/N.” And with that, Sam left your room and shut your door.

Once again leaving you. And for the first time, you let her go without a fight; you simply couldn’t take it anymore.

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

“I’ve been seeing someone,” Sam blankly admitted one night with Tara. The two sisters were in Sam’s room, and Tara was cuddled up next to her sister as she dozed in and out of consciousness, but she eagerly shot up at Sam’s statement.

“As In hallucinations or dating?” Tara asked with a raised eyebrow. Knowing Sam, it could be both; she hoped it was the latter.

“Yes, as in dating, you fucking asshole,” Sam huffed under breath as she sat up in bed. Tara moved off of Sam completely and sat crisscrossed on the bed. “Who is it?” Tara asked with an idea of who it was.

She wasn’t stupid; she noticed how you suddenly stopped coming over the mood shift Sam had gone through. And Tara also noticed how Sam’s eyes were always bloodshot, as if she had been crying.

“Promise me you won’t get mad?” Sam asked.

“I cannot promise you how future Tara will react to the news I am about to receive,” the younger sister replied with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

With a small sigh, Sam looked at her sister before confessing, “I had been sleeping with Y/N for six months.”

Nothing. That’s all Sam could hear: nothing. Not even the sound of her breathing or the AC running; it was silent. She was ready to leave when Tara exclaimed, “I fucking knew it!”

The younger sister wrapped her arms around Sam and gently shook the girl back and forth, “I fucking knew it!! I called it!”

“Called what?” Sam asked as she pushed out of Tara’s tight hold and looked at her sister’s eyes full of excitement. “I knew you and Y/N were together since I first saw a hickey on your neck after she ‘disappeared’ somewhere!” Tara replied while making air quotes.

“Whatever, just don’t get too excited about it. We aren’t together anymore,” Sam mumbled.

“Well, I figured as much. You have been extra grumpy lately, and Y/N has been more reserved.”

“I am not grumpy!” Sam defended.

“Yes, you are! You get grumpy when you go a period of time without sex. And it only started when you got with Y/N!” Tara remarked as if she had been studying Sam’s behavioral patterns for a while now. “So, why did you break it off with her?”

“Because she can do much better than me,” Sam admitted. Tara took a few minutes to think about her sister’s words before speaking, “And why is that?”

Sam scoffed, “What do you mean? She can do a lot better than me. I don’t have a college degree, I work two shitty jobs, and I’m six years older than her.”

“Sam, I love you, I really do. But do you think Y/N cares about an age gap? That woman would murder someone just to go on a date with Jennifer Aniston; I think you’re fine. And Y/N wants you for who you are, Sam. Not something you are trying to force yourself to be,” Tara replied, and Sam had to admit, she had a point. “I know, it’s just different,” Sam weakly retorted as she rubbed the bridge of her nose.

“So what happened then? You freak out and push her away?” Tara blatantly asked. She knew how her sister pushed people away when things got rough for her, and to be frank, it hurt her to see Sam push away the people she loved just to protect them from her.

Sam dropped her hand down to her lap and fidgeted with her fingers while she thought about how to word this. Yes, she did break things off with you and push you away, but it was also something more serious than that.

When it came time for Sam to get serious in a relationship, she always ran away from it. But this time, she was ready to get serious with you. She wanted to share a home with you somewhere; she wanted to wake up in bed with you every morning for the rest of her days, and if she was lucky enough, Sam wanted to marry you. And that terrified the shit out of her.

Being in a committed, long-term relationship horrified Sam; she was scared of being stuck with someone and unable to get out. But when she was with you, the only thing she could think about was how beautiful your name would sound if it ended with ‘Carpenter.’

“It’s complicated,” Sam finally said with a shrug of her shoulders, hoping Tara would let it slide.

“No, it’s not! You just have commitment issues,” Tara exclaimed with her hands.

“No, I don’t.”

“Oh really? Then how come you broke up with Y/N?”

“Because…” Sam finally realized that she did, in fact, have commitment issues, “because I am scared to get serious with someone,” she whispered, afraid that Tara would judge her.

Tara moved closer to her sister and gently took Sam’s hands. “Sam, I want you to listen to me, and you listen well. Y/n loves you. Okay? I know that scares the shit out of you, but she really does. She would do anything for you, even if that meant letting you break her heart. But please, do not let this once-in-a-lifetime relationship slip out of your fingers because you are scared to commit to it. Okay? If you really do want a relationship with her, then please tell her, and do not push her away, because a human can only take so much heartbreak before they are too broken to care about others. Please don’t do that to Y/N.”

Sam took Tara’s words as guilt and regret spread throughout her body. Of course, she loved you, but she was afraid that if she told you, you would run away in fear and never talk to her again. But now, as she listened to her sister’s words, she realized she might have already done that. Sam just hoped it wasn’t too late to make it up to you.

With a small sigh, Sam got up from her bed and excused herself to the bathroom. When she walked in and shut the door, she was greeted by her ever-loving father.

“It’s been a while, Sam,” Billy acknowledged while staring at Sam through the mirror. “Please, not tonight,” Sam quietly replied as she grabbed her toothbrush.

It had been a week since CVS ran out of her medication, and she started to see Billy everywhere: the reflections on the train windows, in the puddles of rain that scattered the cracked sidewalk, she even noticed in the corner of her room once, and that was the first. Sam had always seen him in reflections or mirrors, never by himself, and she knew it was only the beginning when she caught the faintest glimpse of him in her corner.

“You never want me to talk to you, Sam. It’s honestly quite insulting,” Billy retorted with a snort, clearly amused with himself. “Honestly, Sam. Why do you hate me?”

A loud scoff left Sam’s lips as she tried her best to keep him quiet, hoping that Tara wouldn’t have to see her talking to Billy. “Leave me alone,” Sam whispered as she wet her toothbrush, put some paste on it, and brushed her teeth.

“Leave you alone? Are you insane? What would you do without me?” Billy exclaimed. Sam didn’t respond to her father as she continued brushing her teeth and ignored the lecture she was getting about following in his footsteps.

“Seriously, Sam. How could you fumble Y/N?” Billy joked as Sam spit out the toothpaste and rinsed out her mouth. She could excuse her father talking to her about murdering people, but she drew the line at slandering you. “That’s enough,” Sam dryly replied as she began flossing her teeth.

“No, it’s not. I might be a figment of your imagination, but I will be damned if I let you pass up on Y/N! That’s just bad parenting,” Billy defended as he crossed his arms. “What are you going to do to get her back?”

“Nothing,” Sam commented as she threw away the string and turned to leave. “Sam, please. Don’t let this pass you up. You will regret letting Y/N go for the rest of your life if you don’t go after her,” Billy reasoned but stopped talking when Sam turned off the light and left the room.

She didn’t need to get lectured by her serial killer father right after her sister finished preaching to her, but maybe he gave out some good advice occasionally.

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

The week following your conversation with Sam was typical, even though you occasionally cried yourself to sleep and woke up in the middle of the night looking for Sam. And you had miraculously found yourself another suitor.

Of course, you looked at other women following your split from Sam, and you put them into two categories: Sam and not Sam. And no one else seemed to fill the void that Sam left, even though one girl came close.

She was your age and was attending your university when you ran into her at a party, and you two hit it off. You both shared a love for books and nature, but when you were with her, you felt nothing, only longing for your beautiful Latina.

“Are you even paying attention?” Ashley asked as she snapped her fingers before your face, pulling you away from your thoughts.

“Mhm? Oh, yeah. Sorry about that,” you mumbled as you looked around the library. It was later in the evening, and you and Ashley were studying for your MCAT together, but all you could think about was Sam.

“Well, then,” Ashley said with a playful smirk on her lips, “Would you like to go on a date with me sometime?”

The question had caught you off guard, and you certainly weren’t expecting her to be so forward about it. “Um, yeah. Just let me know when,” you replied with a fake smile that Ashley didn’t pick up on. “Sweet! I’ll text you the deets! See ya!” Ashley said as she stood up from the table and kissed your cheek before waltzing away.

The kiss surprised you, and when you felt her lips on your skin, you didn’t feel anything. Not a single spark, and it didn’t make your stomach get tingly like it did with Sam. So, in your eyes, she was just another Not-Sam. But when she texted you late one Thursday, asking you out to dinner on Saturday, you couldn’t find yourself to say no.

Even though she never compared to your Sammy, you were willing to settle for a nice enough girl who had the same career path as you. And hopefully, you could find it in yourself to love her one day.

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

Saturday night had arrived, and for the first time in two months, you got dressed up for a date. You and Sam had made a habit of going on dinner dates at least once a month, as you both hated the idea of classic dates. Your normal dates would consist of small hikes, going to the movies, sometimes watching a local play, shopping at the local bookstores, picking out flowers for each other, and the occasional date where she would pick out a tattoo for you to get.

The thought of getting matching tattoos disgusted you, but you had no problem with letting Sam pick out a tattoo for you, as long as you agreed with it, of course.

You wore a simple black suit with a sheer shirt, classy but still showing a bit of skin. Naturally, you had no intention of trying to impress Ashley, but you wanted to dress up, and it felt good to get fancy occasionally.

Your phone dinged with a text from Ashley, telling you that she was heading to the restaurant now, so you grabbed your keys and jacket and left your room to tell Anika that you were leaving.

When Sam saw you enter the living room dressed in a nice black suit with the jacket in your hand, she felt her heart rip and almost lost her breath. She had killed you, but it killed her just the same. Seeing you dress up for someone who was clearly not her hurt in more ways than a bullet to the brain ever would.

“Alright, Anika, I’m leaving,” you said as you approached the couch and gave Anika a fist bump. You tried your best to ignore the tension in the room as Sam stared at you.

“Let me know if you’re bringing her back here or going over to her place,” Anika said with a smile. She was glad to see you finally leave your room and go out with someone, even if she hated the woman you were going with.

“Sounds good,” you replied with a weak smile that faltered when your eyes landed on Sam. The Latina had a blank expression, but her eyes told a thousand stories. You could see the heartbreak in them, along with the love and yearning she felt toward you. You wanted to say ‘fuck it’ and finally get rid of all this angst between you two; she was your lifeline, and you needed her like the ocean needs the moon, but you knew breaking things off was for the better.

So, when you cleared your throat and said goodbye to the group, you let a lone tear fall down your cheek at the thought of losing your Sam.

When you left the room, the group of friends let out a breath they didn’t know they were holding. “Sam,” Tara whispered as she reached for her sister’s hand, but Sam pulled away. They all knew of the situation between you and Sam, and all four of them hated saying you two this way.

“I need a moment to myself,” Sam said as she pushed herself off the couch. “Are you sure that’s a good idea right now?” Tara asked with worry laced in her voice.

“I’ll be fine; I just need to be by myself for a while,” Sam replied as she left the room, went outside to the backyard, and sat at a table. She allowed herself to think about all the times she had with you, and she slowly felt you slipping through her fingers. You were once her home to come back to on a hard day at work, but now, she had nowhere to go.

No one understood her the way you did, and she desperately needed you back, but she would not ruin your date. Sam had been the one to break things off with you, and she needed to pay the consequences. When she heard your car pull out of the driveway and drive down the road, she finally broke down crying, and you weren’t there to catch her.

She didn’t know how long she was crying until she heard the back door creak open, and Tara walked out of the house and approached her. “Sam,” Tara breathed out as she walked to her sister and wrapped her right arm around her, pulling her sister into her chest. “It’s okay, Sam. I’m here for you.”

Tara gently rubbed Sam’s back as she comforted her sister, not knowing what to say to improve it.

After a few minutes, Sam’s cries turned into soft sniffles as she pulled away from her sister. “I take it you didn’t talk to her?” Tara weakly asked. “Nope,” Sam replied with a small laugh, “I guess I deserve this, don’t I?”

“No, you don’t. Well, I mean kind of. You did break it off with her, but still, you deserve love,” Tara commented as she tried her best to comfort Sam but still gave her the hard truth. Sam lightly laughed at Tara’s words while wiping away her tears.

“My entire life, I have been told that I’m destined to be alone, that no one will ever love. My own fucking mother told me that I was unlovable, and I believe her. So when I fell for Y/N, I broke her heart to try and save mine, but it killed me. The only thing I want to do is run to her and tell her that I love her, but I can’t do that because she found someone else, someone who will treat her better than I ever have, and she will give her a better life than I ever will. I pushed away the only person who has ever loved me because I was too much of a coward to say, ‘I love you,’” Sam admitted in a broken voice, and Tara felt her heart break for her sister.

A few beats of silence passed before Sam spoke, “Do you know who she’s going out with?” She knew she would only get hurt by asking, but she needed to know if you had found someone better than her, praying that you did just so she had the final confirmation that you didn’t need her, even though she needed you.

“Sam,” Tara quietly said, afraid to tell Sam the truth, but her sister's look told her that Sam needed to know or else she would not sleep. “The girl’s name is Ashley, and they met at college. They are both in pre-med together.”

The look on Sam’s face was comical; her expression was pure relief even though her eyes told the opposite story and were full of guilt, regret, and longing. “Good. Good,” Sam muttered with a voice full of confidence, “I’m happy for her.”

Tara nodded at her sister’s words, having no idea what to say to make the situation better for Sam. “I guess so. Are you ready to come inside?” Tara asked.

“No, not yet. I just want to be left alone,” Sam replied with a weak smile.

The younger sister nodded at Sam’s words and kissed Sam’s head as she stood up, “Okay, just please let me know if you need anything.”

“I will,” Sam said as she watched Tara walk away.

The sound of crickets chirping filled the backyard, and as soon as Tara walked inside, he walked out from the shadows.

Sam said nothing as Billy slowly approached her and sat beside her. “Well, looks like you’re on your own, kid. You always have been, though,” Billy remarked.

“What do you want?” Sam defeatedly asked as she looked up at her father. “I want you to suck it up and stop being a little bitch!” Billy exclaimed, clearly angry with his daughter for letting you go.

A small, dry chuckle left Sam’s lips as she exited the table. “Hey, where are you going?” Billy asked as he also got up and followed Sam to the door. “Inside,” Sam replied before she opened the door and closed it on him.

“You know you can’t outrun me, right?” Billy asked as he magically appeared in the living room, right next to Tara. Sam tried her best to hold her tongue as she watched Billy stare at her younger sister.

“Hey, I’m going to go home. Are you fine with staying here, or do you want to come with me?” Sam asked Tara as she ignored her father.

“I’m fine with staying here, but are you sure you want to be alone?” Tara asked, utterly oblivious to the fake man staring at her.

“Yeah, I’m good. I’ll text you when I get home, though, okay?” Sam said as she walked through Billy and gave Tara a quick hug. “Okay, just be safe,” Tara replied once she pulled away from Sam’s embrace.

Sam said her goodbyes to the rest of the group as she left the house and drove home, with Billy sitting in the passenger seat. He talked the entire way to her apartment, and when Sam turned up the radio to tune him out, he only spoke louder.

When Sam got home, she quickly got inside her apartment and locked the door before going to her room. She took a hot shower while listening to her father’s rant from outside the shower.

He was currently going on about God knows what, but it was driving Sam insane. No matter what she did, she couldn’t get him to stop talking.

Sam finished her shower and dressed as her father’s voice still filled her head, but she finally had enough when he said, “You know, you honestly suck at being a gay person.”

“Whatever,” Sam dryly replied as she left her bathroom and climbed onto her bed, with Billy in the corner of the room sitting in a chair. “I’m not saying that to be mean, but you honestly do. You should be fighting for your woman, not letting some bitch named Ashley fuck her instead.”

At the mention of you being intimate with someone else, Sam couldn’t take it anymore and grabbed her phone and got off her bed.

No drug could ever work as good as you did; she had tried them all, and nothing worked, nothing except you. She needed you more than anything right now, and she had pushed you away because she was scared to feel something that was real. So, she did the only thing she could think about: she called you.

She didn’t care if you screamed at her for breaking your heart; all she needed was your voice to help keep Billy away. She could handle you hating her because that meant you still thought of her. She could not take you being indifferent about her, not being on your mind at all, while you ran laps around her brain.

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

“I’m glad you agreed to go on this date with me,” Ashley informed as you walked into the restaurant together. She was wearing a tight green cocktail dress that showed a decent amount of her cleavage, and you respected her attempt to pull your eye.

“I’m thankful for the invite,” you replied with an honest smile as you held the door open for her. You were glad to be going to dinner with someone new, even if the restaurant was too fancy for your taste.

The restaurant was lined with fancy and expensive wines, and marble statues stood in the room's corners as you followed a waiter to your seat.

The table was already set up for two with a small candle in the middle, and you bit back a laugh at the shitty attempt to make this a romantic dinner.

You sat across from Ashley as she took her napkin and placed it on her lap, and you copied her actions.

“Hello, you two lovely ladies. My name is Cole, and I will be your waiter for the night,” a primarily built man stated as he approached your table, “What can I get you ladies to drink?”

“I’ll have water, please,” you quietly said, and Ashley repeated your words. When Cole walked off to grab your beverages, Ashley spoke with you.

Honestly, you felt terrible for not paying attention, but you seriously didn’t want to hear her talk about her rich daddy and the summer home she was staying at this weekend. You were halfway paying attention when you saw a woman in the corner of your eye.

You didn’t see her face; you only saw her jet-black hair and how she carried herself, screamed Sam.

“Sam?” You quietly muttered as your eyes followed the woman, praying she was here to save you. But when the woman turned around, she wasn’t your Sam.

“Sam? Who’s Sam?” Ashley asked as she studied your face. She picked up on how you wished this mysterious woman was here, and she hated the idea of another woman being on your mind.

You turned your attention back to your ‘date.’ “Oh, she’s no one, just someone I used to know,” you said with a fake smile.

Ashley just nodded her hair as she twirled her hair around her finger. “Okay, thank god. For a second, I thought you were talking about that Sam Loomis chick,” Ashley replied with a laugh.

“Carpenter,” you stated through a clenched jaw as your hand balled into a fist.

“What?” Ashley asked, pretending to play stupid. The smile on her face aggravated you for some unknown reason, and all you wanted to do was punch her for insulting your soulmate.

“Her name is Sam Carpenter, not Loomis,” you replied in the same stern voice.

“Well, whatever her name is, she’s that psycho bitch that killed a bunch of her friends and even her sister! Can you believe that?” Ashley asked with far too much excitement in her voice.

“No, I can’t. Because she didn’t do that, and her sister is still alive,” you replied with slight irritation. Your anger increased the longer you stayed with Ashley, and you desperately needed to get away from the girl.

Ashley scoffed at your words, “Oh, yeah? How do you know that then? Are you secretly in on the murders, too?”

“No, I just think it’s wrong to judge someone based on some bullshit rumors on Reddit.”

“You’re pathetic, you know that?” Ashley randomly stated as hate overtook her once peaceful eyes, “You’re so fucking pathetic that you can’t believe the facts and evidence that prove that Sam Carpenter is a murderer!”

A dry laugh left your lips as you shook your head back and forth. You had a mischievous smile as you clenched and unclenched your hands, trying your best to keep cool.

You were getting ready to defend Sam’s name when your phone went off, and your heart filled with joy as you read the name.

Never in a million years did you expect Sam to call you, but now, as her name flashed across your screen right before you were getting ready to go jail for assault and battery, you excused yourself as you walked out for the restaurant and answered your phone.

“Sam?” You whispered into the phone, praying you could finally return to your home. You listened to Sam’s shaky breathing on the other end, and you knew you needed to get to her as soon as possible. “Y/N,” Sam replied tremblingly, and you could sense her teary eyes, “I miss my home.”

Your lip quivered at Sam’s broken voice, and a tear fell down your cheek as you said weakly, “I’m leaving now.”

“Please hurry. I need you,” Sam whispered into the phone, trying her best to fight back her tears and Billy’s voice. He had gotten so loud that she couldn’t even hear herself think, and it was becoming too much.

“I will, my love,” you replied as you hung up the phone and returned to your table.

“I’m so sorry, but an emergency has come up, and I need to leave,” you quickly said as you frantically grabbed your keys and wallet. “Here’s a twenty to cover my food; I am sorry about this,” you said as you practically ran out of the restaurant and toward your car, giving Ashley zero time to take in the situation.

You unlocked your car, turned it on, and peeled off towards Sam’s house, and you couldn’t help but laugh when you heard the angelic voice of Lana Del Rey fill the car.

I got my mind on you

Say yes to heaven

Say yes to me

Say yes to heaven

Say yes to me

I’ve got my eye on you

I’ve got my eye on you

The ironic lyrics caused you to start laughing as you thought back to the beginning of your relationship with Sam.

Ever since you first met the woman, you had your mind on her all hours of the day, even before you got romantically involved with her. You felt like you would wait a lifetime for Sam to say yes to you, and it seemed your eye never left her.

When you parked your car outside Sam’s apartment, you ran as fast as you could up the stairs and knocked rapidly on the door. You didn’t even have time to catch your breath before Sam flung the door open and grabbed your neck, pulling your lips to hers. You kissed her back, and you finally felt yourself returning to your home, to your Sam.

And for the first time in weeks, Sam finally felt her father’s voice disappear as she returned home.

“You came,” Sam breathlessly mumbled against your lips. “You called,” you replied while pulling back to look at your woman. You noticed her bloodshot eyes and dried tear stains on her cheeks and felt your heartbreak. This wasn’t the cold-hearted Sam Carpenter the media portrayed; this was the real Sam Carpenter, scared to be vulnerable and loved but needed to be loved by you. This was the Sam who yearned for your heart with every fiber of her being and who would die for you. She was your soulmate, your home, and if you were lucky enough, maybe even your wife one day.

“What happened, Sam?” You quickly asked while rubbing Sam’s cheek with your thumb. The older woman shook her head as her lip quivered, and a tear fell. You wiped it away and placed a quick kiss where it had ended. “I don’t want to talk about it,” Sam admitted with an embarrassed tone, “I just need you here with me.”

“Okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere,” you replied lovingly, and Sam felt nothing but guilt for pushing you away.

Sam grabbed your hand and pulled you into her apartment, shut and locked the door before pulling you into her room. Sam shut the door as she looked through her closet and pulled out some of your clothes.

“I’ve been looking for this,” you quietly said as you reached into Sam’s closet and ran your fingers over your favorite hoodie. A slight frown pulled at Sam’s lips, “Oh. You can have that back,” she muttered as she handed you one of your shirts and a pair of shorts to change into.

“Sam, I don’t want it back. I want you to keep it; I was just stressing over where I put it last,” you replied with a smile as you studied Sam. You noticed how she had her hands hidden again, and the stress lines were more transparent; you knew Billy was bothering her again. You stripped in front of Sam, and for some unknown reason, she turned her head and gave you some privacy.

“What? It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” you joked with a playful smile as you finished changing into comfier clothes, and Sam huffed at your words.

You gave Sam a quick kiss before you walked off into the kitchen with the woman right on your heels. You put some water in a kettle and set it on the stove to boil as you searched for some cocoa mix while Sam studied your actions.

Whenever she saw Billy, you would always make her some hot cocoa and turn on a movie you knew she loved, just to add some extra comfort. The feeling that Sam felt in her chest as she watched you grab the mix and make her a cup once the water was done boiling was something she couldn’t describe. She felt her chest flutter, and her heart beat increased when she saw that smile you reserved for only her.

“What?” You asked with that same smile, and Sam couldn’t keep it to herself anymore; she had to tell you, or it would continue to eat at her.

“I love you.”

You felt your heart explode at Sam’s confession, and you tried your best to keep your emotions in line as she continued talking.

“I love you so much, Y/N. I always have; I’ve just been too scared to admit it. I love you so much that the only way I thought I could love you was by pushing you away, but that destroyed both of us. Whenever I look at you, all I see is my future, and I want to have that with you: a future. But only if you want me, only if you accept me,” Sam admitted with tears in her eyes, hoping you understood what she meant by future: a wife.

Your bottom lip quivered as you approached Sam and gently cupped her cheeks before pulling her into the softest, most loving kiss you two had ever shared, and Sam knew you understood her double meaning.

“I want you to be my future,” you stated against Sam’s lips as your thumb traced her cheekbone before kissing her lips once before, “But finish up your cocoa.” Sam chuckled before kissing your lips to comfort her, before pulling away and picking up her mug.

You talked with Sam about how your lives had been since the split, and you found it ironic that both of your lives had turned downhill. You would occasionally throw tiny marshmallows at Sam and would scold you before putting some in her drink, but she cherished seeing the playful side of you.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” Sam randomly cut you off as you were talking about your schoolwork. You looked at the woman, whose eyes refused to meet yours as she stared at her mug.

You walked over to Sam and gently placed your left hand on her back, and she turned to face you. You cupped her cheek with your right hand and pulled her into a loving kiss, and she sighed against your lips before kissing you back.

“I would love to be your girlfriend,” you said once the kiss had ended, and you ignored the way Sam took in a deep breath as if she was surprised you said yes.

“Okay. Good,” Sam replied while pulling away for you, and her heart melted when she saw the giant smile on your lips before a puzzled look appeared on your face.

“What’s this?” You playfully asked as you reached up toward Sam’s face and quickly pulled out a hair.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Sam exclaimed while you held the hair close to her eyes and scoffed at you; it was a single grey hair.

“I call that one ‘Tara,’” Sam remarked as she took it out of your hand and threw it in the trash can, “I appreciate the hot cocoa, but can we please go to bed?”

“Of course,” you replied, smiling as you followed Sam into her room and shut the door. Sam threw back the covers on her bed and climbed in, opening her arms for you to join her.

With a giant smile, you got in bed next to Sam and cuddled up to her chest, and you both finally felt at home when Sam wrapped her arms around you and placed a loving kiss on your head. Telling you that she wasn’t going anywhere.

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

Tara let out a small groan as she twisted and turned in bed before fumbling for her phone and checking the time: 3:33 a.m. She groaned as she rose from the bed, and her tiny bare feet patted against the flooring as she walked into the kitchen. Tara grabbed a bottle of water before approaching Sam’s door, but she stopped her hand from knocking.

The girl heard muffled voices inside, and she heard Sam talking to someone, “You know you don’t have to leave, right?” The stranger sighed at Sam’s words as they approached the closed door, “I know, but I'm already in the dog house with Gale, and if I’m not back in her apartment in the morning, she’ll have my head.” Somehow, Tara recognized that voice, and she knew that she should know who it was, but she couldn’t put a name to the face.

When Tara heard a hand land on the door, she flew into the living room and hid beside the couch as the door opened.

Sam and the stranger walked to the door together, and a giant smile grew on Tara’s face when she saw that it was you. With a small sigh, Sam smiled at you, “Okay, just please text me back when you get home, okay?”

“I always do,” you joked with a giant grin as you leaned in and kissed Sam, and you felt your heart explode when she kissed you back. “I love you,” Sam admitted against your lips before you opened the door and turned to face her.

“I love you too, Sam. More than you will ever know,” you replied as you placed a final quick kiss on Sam’s lips before leaving.

Sam closed and locked the door and jumped when she saw Tara standing before her with a creepy grin and straight stance. “Jesus Christ, you’re creepy as fuck,” Sam stated as she walked to her room with Tara on her heels.

“What was that?” Tara asked while making a sour face when she walked into Sam’s room and breathed in the air that reeked of sex, “Air out your room, oh my god.”

The older sister scoffed at Tara’s words as she removed the sheets from her bed and threw them into a laundry basket. “I was hanging out with Y/N. Why?” Sam asked while putting on fresh sheets and properly making her bed. “‘Hanging out,’ my ass! You two were fucking!” Tara exclaimed.

“Yes, we were. And don’t act surprised; you were the one who told me to go after her,” Sam replied as she walked into her bathroom and brushed her teeth, getting ready for bed. It’s been almost a month since you officially started dating, and you both couldn’t be happier.

“I know that, but I thought you two would have a bit more decency than this,” Tara scuffed.

Sam spat out the toothpaste and rinsed her mouth before returning to her bedroom. “Don’t judge me for what I do with my girlfriend, Tara,” Sam replied while getting into bed and plugging up her phone.

“How long have you two been dating?” Tara asked, almost hurt that Sam didn’t tell her. “It will be a month next Wednesday,” Sam replied while staring at her sister, “Do you need anything, or are you just here to make fun of me?”

“Well, I was here to ask if I could sleep in here with you tonight, but I’m going back to my room. Because it doesn’t smell like sex!” Tara exclaimed as she left Sam’s room and shut the door.

Sam chuckled at her sister’s reaction before she received a text message.

Y/N <3: Just got home, and I already miss you

Sammy 😼: You’ll see me in the morning time, Y/N. And I miss you too. Goodnight, my love.

Y/N <3: Goodnight, Sammy. I love you

Sammy 😼: I love you too.

Sam smiled as she texted you back and put her phone on her nightstand before lying down for the night. No words could describe her love for you, and she couldn’t wait to start her future with you.

You couldn’t help it when your heart grew ten times as you reread the text message. Sam loved you, and you loved her, and you went to bed with one thought on your mind: She finally said yes to heaven.

[1800-fight-me]

Death and His Lady

Death!Aemond Targaryen x Female Assassin!Reader

Rating: E (Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

Warnings: Extreme violence, explicit smut, allusions to reader having prior trauma

Word count: Almost 6k

Synopsis: As the King's assassin, Death becomes your most trusted confidant, but his influence along with unexpected events lead you down a path you never thought you'd walk.

Author’s note: I have literally been so excited about this fic I can't even deal with it!! Here's another gothic horror romance vibez fic from me! Thank you so much @lauraneedstochill for the beta read! Also the new trailer has me freaking all the way out so here we go! This fic is a rollercoaster ride and I really hope y'all enjoy it!!

I do not have a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on!

Aemond Masterlist

You courted with Death in this endeavor, that you were certain. 

Death must be enamored with you, given how many times you have brushed against it. Once, Death held even you in his arms, his embrace warm, but you spun free before he could sink his claws in you. 

This time, you weren’t sure you’d be able to outwit him. 

Like a fox evading a hound, you toyed with Death, amused at his growing frustration at your continued escapes. 

If you’re being completely honest with yourself, you enjoyed being chased as much as you believed he enjoyed chasing you. 

But now, as blood spurted from your lips, your vision hazy, you thought you might very well fully succumb to Death’s clutches today. 

“No,” you groaned as the vision of him flickered in your view. 

White hair, pale skin, one eye of sapphire and one of violet, a jagged scar down his face, clothes of all black to match the black feathered wings at his back.  

He looked like an angel- the fallen avenging kind, and he smirked as he cocked his head at you, the promise of conquest in his gaze. 

There was a yearning deep in your chest, a desire to have his attentions on you and only you, a pull that left you intoxicated at the sight of him. Perhaps that was why you continued this game. 

It was one you could only ever lose.

The wooden chair you were tied to as the men mercilessly beat you groaned in protest from the backwards momentum of your body as your enemy landed another punch, blood spurting again. 

You were too far gone for quick witted comebacks, for speaking at all. Being the king’s most trusted spy and assassin was always a dangerous job, but one you flourished in. 

Today, however, was particularly dangerous it seemed. You couldn’t even remember what information the men wanted from you anymore. 

It didn’t matter, you would never give anything away, you’d sooner greet Death like an old friend than betray your kingdom. 

He flickered in your vision once again. His savage beauty was a welcome sight. Like a fallen prince. Like an avenging angel. Like your heart’s darkest desires. 

Perhaps it would be a relief to sink into his embrace, to give up, to cease the fight. 

His expression changed, no longer self satisfactory, no-  he looked angry with you as he strode across the dank dungeon to stand before you. 

Time paused completely and you let out a gasping breath of relief as fists paused from meeting your skin. 

He leaned down so his face was close enough that your nose nearly brushed his, like a lover would, but no- fury  filled his gaze. 

“Fight,” he growled at you. 

“I can’t,” you gasped. 

“You can and you will,” he ordered, “you will not give up and die. Today is not the day.” 

Some deep primal part of you woke at those words, at the steel in his tone, at his orders. And the rage and fury inside of him reminded you of your own and it filled you once more. Filled you to fight, to survive.

You would not lay down and die today. 

He smirked as he saw the change in your eyes. He brushed a whisper of a kiss to your lips, soft and swift enough that it hardly even counted as a real kiss, but it ignited a flame in you and when your eyes fluttered back open, he was gone. 

The tie around your wrists had been cut and as time started again, you caught the fist aimed at your face and you fought. 

You gave Death a tribute as your torturers met their bitter end at your violent hands. 

Maybe that was why he had always seemed willing to let you go, you mused, you were practically his handmaiden with the amount of souls you gave him, the amount of lives you ended brutally. 

You walked out of that dungeon battered and bloody, but alive enough to continue your game with Death, to live for another day. 

This game had gone on for years, but never once had he interfered the way he did today, never once had he prevented you from passing over into his realm. No, every other time it had been your own grit and guile. 

Today, Death showed his hand when he prevented you from dying. 

He enjoyed the chase as much as you did, that you were certain, and you were determined to continue it.  

————————————————————

You knelt before your king and the silver white of his hair brought up the memory of your obsession. They say that Targaryens are closer to gods than men. Your death god was testimony of that. 

Once, when curiosity won over practicality, you spend days in the royal library researching and reading about all of the Targaryen ancestors until you found a book weathered and brown from age that contained artist renditions and you found him. 

Your personal demon was Aemond Targaryen, rider of the legendary Vhagar, harbinger of death even in his mortal life. 

You read everything you could about his life, drinking in every aspect of his personality that you could learn about him. You were infatuated, perhaps even loved him after his actions to save you. 

Your king told you to rise and you reported to him the events of the past few days, leaving out details about your kiss with Death. 

The king’s looks were nowhere near the godlike chiseled beauty of his ancestor, you mused as he told you of your next mission. Although it’s not like you were one to talk, earlier as healers cleaned off all the blood and stitched up your cuts, you looked at your reflection in the mirror and had to look away from your bruised and battered form, you were nearly unrecognizable. 

“Rest for a few days, then take your leave,” the King ordered. 

“Yes, your majesty,” you bowed, then left the throne room. 

You retreated to your chambers and immediately tumbled into bed. Sleep took you swiftly and deeply, and like the night after every other near Death experience, he was waiting for you in your dreams. 

You asked him once how it worked, and he explained that the veil was always thin after your near crossovers, and he was able to influence your dreams. 

And influence them he did… you whimpered as his cock filled you to the absolute brim. 

He grunted and pulled your lips to his, tongue tangling with your own, and you wrapped your thighs around his trim waist pulling him closer, wanting him as close as possible. 

The angle changed and you shivered, despite the heat of his sweat slicked skin, as he hit the spot inside of you that made you forget anything but him. 

“Aemond,” you moaned and he stopped his movement, became still as Death. 

“How do you know that name?” He asked, his hand on the side of your neck as he pulled back enough to meet your gaze. 

His voice was low and cold, dangerous. 

You took a shuddering breath. 

“I researched, I needed to know more about the one who haunts me,” you said, putting steel in your voice despite your nerves. 

Amusement flickered in his expression, “I knew I picked the right woman.” 

“You probably say that to all the assassins you save,” you teased. 

He chuckled darkly and you clenched down on his length where he still remained inside you. 

His chuckle turned into a growl and he unleashed himself on you, filling you and your heart’s blackest desire. 

In the darkest part of the night his sounds of ecstasy tangled with your own until you both found release in one another, the type of release you’d never found with anyone else, and a feeling of comfort and satisfaction unlike any other filled your chest. 

With him, you felt whole, but that feeling dwindled as you woke the next morning in your bed alone. 

————————————————————

“Lady Death,” the pirate king before you said in an attempt to flatter you. 

His handsomeness was average, nothing exciting or remotely comparable to the sharp features of your devilishly handsome death god. 

His words clanged inside you and hit upon something true and vital. But, you could not show your reaction. 

“Skull King,” you replied, your lips pursed as you lifted your chin. 

He laughed, like a sword scraping over stones, and your hand drifted towards the dagger strapped to your thigh. 

“You are more beautiful than any descriptions I’ve ever heard,” he said. 

“I do not leave many alive to describe me,” you said back with considerable bite in your tone. 

He merely laughed once more and waved a hand at you. 

“Let us cease with the back and forth and discuss why I am truly here,” you demanded. 

“What does your king want?” He asked with a sigh. 

“For you to cease your pillaging of the costal villages,” you said. 

He narrowed his eyes at you, “And why would he send you to negotiate with me?” 

“He knew you would not want or need riches as a bribe. I offer you my services. In exchange for no longer attacking our villages, I will assassinate an enemy of your choice,” you explained. 

His broad feral grin was an answer in itself. 

————————————————————

“Lady Death Lady Death Lady Death” a deep dark voice hissed at you from the inky black. 

Eyes blinked open, shining bright, one sapphire and one violet, and you jolted awake. 

You took a shuddering breath, your skin slick with sweat. It had been weeks since you’d seen or heard from Death, and you’d spend that time trying to forget about your last encounter, though your efforts were entirely futile. 

But the pirate king’s words to you yesterday had shaken something awake inside you. 

You shook your head and arose from your bed, as you readied yourself, strapping an ungodly amount of weapons to your body, you cleared your mind and prepared yourself for another day of offering your midnight lover tributes. 

You crept across rooftops, having spent the entire day and most of the night tracking the Skull King’s most bitter rival. 

Honestly this whole rivalry seemed trivial to you, but you would do as you were bid. 

The man was a piss-poor drunk, having bought himself and the whole bar rounds and rounds of drinks. You watched through the crack in the ceiling as he pulled a barmaid onto his lap despite her protests. 

Certainly, now you were more than happy to be the bringer of his death. You gritted your teeth and reminded yourself of patience as he squeezed her curves and she pushed off him, managing to disentangle herself from his drunk and reeking presence. 

He yelled after her, slurred and vile words that had you gripping your favorite dagger. 

Just wait, just wait, just wait, you reminded yourself. There was to be only one death tonight. If you unleashed yourself now the death toll would be far too great and the act would be sloppy, more easily tracked and blame pinned quickly on the guilty parties. 

So you continued to watch and finally when he stumbled to the alley to relieve himself as you knew he would, you crept off the roof and hid yourself in the shadows. 

Death himself stood there where the rogue pirate should be. Your heart stumbled but you managed to stop yourself from gasping. 

“My lady,” he purred and bowed. Death bowed before you then stepped aside and gestured to the man you were targeting, the man whose life only had moments left. 

As Aemond faded back into the shadows, you knew he was still watching, and you blinked twice, gave yourself a second for one steadying breath, then moved. 

The man’s back was to you and it took little effort to leap upon his back and slit his throat. 

Blood sprayed and you jumped off his back, retreating quick enough that as his body fell to the ground, it did not hit you. 

You waited the moments it took for the gurgling noise of him choking on his own blood to cease and made certain he was well and truly in Death’s grasp before you yanked the ring off his finger, the proof of a job well done, and turned to leave. 

Before you turned completely, you saw Death as he crouched over the bloodied body, he shot you a wink and you shuddered as you ran off. 

You covered your tracks, and when you were certain there would be no possibility of the death being traced back to you, you returned to the office of the Skull King. 

You slipped through the shadows and waited for him, lounging in his chair like you owned it- like it was your throne. 

When he entered, you threw a knife so that it buried itself in the wall close enough to his head that he felt the whisper of its kiss. 

He glared at you and you smirked. 

“It’s done,” you said and threw the ring at him. 

He caught it, his expression torn between impressed and still angry at your nonverbal threat. 

“It needn’t be said, but I can end your life just as easily should you not uphold your end of the bargain,” you said. His face blanched at the tone of your voice, the look in your eye that held Death. 

He nodded slightly and with one more smirk at him, you vanished into the dark. 

You scrubbed the blood off you and prepared yourself for a night’s rest before beginning your journey back to King’s Landing. 

————————————————————

This was the first night Death appeared to you in your dreams even though you hadn’t nearly greeted him in the afterlife. 

“How?” You asked breathlessly as his lips broke from yours to create a blazing trail of fire across your jaw and down the side of your neck. 

“You are mine, and as you do your king’s bidding- slaughtering - our bond strengthens and so does your power,” he said and then ran his tongue up the column of your throat. 

You gasped and you couldn’t tell if it was due to his words or his tongue. 

You are mine. You are mine. You are mine. 

The words echoed in your brain as his lips trailed down your body to your core where he pleasured you with that wicked tongue. 

Every time you killed after that night, he appeared in your dreams, joining your bodies in ecstacy and strengthening that connection. 

He appeared in a vision every time you unleashed yourself in violence and spilled blood, ending lives, and living up to your new infamous title that rippled across the seven kingdoms, Lady Death.

You no longer lived in the shadows, you became the shadows within men fell. 

————————————————————

In the following months, the King kept you busier than ever. You weren’t certain if it was due to the power that your growing reputation provided him or if he wanted to keep you away, that same reputation striking fear into his own heart. 

Lately you hardly completed a mission before you received correspondence from the King with instructions for your next kill. 

He kept you far away from King’s Landing. It was fine with you, that den of vipers was never your home anyway. You didn’t have a true home. Perhaps that was why the embrace of Death felt like home. 

These days you hardly scrubbed the blood off you before you were covered in more. You killed nearly daily. Your connection with Death strengthened, to the point that his presence became near constant, in your waking hours and in your dreams. 

The more he appeared, the more you could feel it, that sensation like something prowled beneath your skin begging to burst forward and shatter the world. 

There had been no mention again of powers, but yet you could feel them growing. 

Months passed, and the first time they manifested, you leveled a building. 

You were trapped, well and truly, and it was due to your careless fatal mistake, overconfidence having become a rampant part of your personality due to your successes, and the strength of the death god who worshiped you. 

You were surrounded, having not been careful enough to ensure your targets were alone, too cocky that you wouldn’t be followed, and now you fought against twelve men.

”Kill them,” Aemond hissed from where he stood behind you, his rage growing stronger and directly influencing your own emotions. 

You could not determine where his emotions began and yours ended, so entangled the two of you had become. 

You tried, you used all of your skill, all of your strength, and it was not enough as the sword sunk into your gut. 

You hadn’t been this close to joining Death in the afterlife in a long while. 

“End them, destroy, and take what is yours,” Aemond growled through clenched teeth. 

You knew he would not do it for you, if he did then you wouldn’t be who he thought you were, who he needed you to be, who he loved.  

And you could feel it again, that thing that prowled beneath your skin begging to be released. 

So you became Death Incarnate as liquid fire filled your eyes and soul and exploded from your body. Black cold flames that instantly killed everyone they touched. 

“Good,” Aemond urged, those same wild flames in his eye. He pressed a kiss to your throat and the flames only grew stronger. 

His hand grazed your stomach, healing the wound. 

Your chest heaved as you took ragged breaths and surveyed the carnage around you. 

The fire grew out of control as you started to panic, but with Death’s careful instruction, you grounded yourself and reeled it all back in. 

You stood, dead bodies littered the ground around you, and only moved when the building groaned and threatened to fall atop you. 

You walked out of the ruined structure side by side with Death, as it crumbled behind you, leaving devastation in your wake. 

————————————————————

One night, during a dream, as you lay breathless in his arms after you both reached such high peaks at one another’s tongues, you asked him the question that had been so heavy on your mind. 

“Why me?” you asked curiously. 

“Hm?” 

His fingers traced patterns on your back. You turned your head from its place in his neck- you were half lying on his chest, and looked over at his wing. 

“Why did you choose me?” 

He chuckled softly. “Never before have I seen someone turn Death into such a beautiful game. You intrigued me.” 

You brushed a finger down the most sensitive part of his wing and he shuddered. 

“And now?” you asked. 

“And now, sweet temptress, you have convinced me to devote the entirety of my eternal being to you,” he growled before flipping you over suddenly so you were beneath him. 

You grinned at him, breathless and in wonder, and had no words, so you simply pulled his mouth to yours and proved to him how utterly devoted you were to him as well. 

————————————————————

It took time and Aemond’s careful instruction- months as you continued killing daily, fulfilling the King’s requirements, but you learned to control your newfound powers, that death fire. Still you couldn’t hide their manifestation in your eyes when you were angry or prepared to kill. 

You stood before your King once more and offered a several months long report detailing your actions since you last saw him. 

“Do not leave out any details,” he warned you through narrowed eyes. 

You pursed your lips and revealed as little information as you could about this magic, these powers that have recently manifested, but enough to please him. 

You knew he’d gotten reports, you rarely left eyewitnesses, but still rumors spread, you could hardly downplay it. 

You saw the wariness in his expression. 

Death manifested at your side. 

“Kill him,” he murmured. 

You ignored him, continuing to report to the King. 

“When were you going to tell me of this new magic you wield?” He asked, distrust in his voice. 

“End him, take his power for your own, sit on the Iron Throne,” Death whispered in your ear, purring like a lover. 

“This is the first time I’ve seen you in months, my King, you’ve kept me busy far away from the Red Keep, one could only wonder why,” you said, with only a little bit of bite. 

The King narrowed his eyes at you once more. 

“I do not have to explain my decisions to you. Your role is to serve and not question,” he sneered. 

For the first time while you were awake, you could feel Aemond’s hands on you. The bond between the two of you was stronger than ever as he stood behind you and intertwined his fingers with yours. He slowly brought your intertwined hands down from the small of your waist to the front of your hip- threatening to go lower, an echo - a memory of the night before he knew he triggered by that action. 

You remembered your dream last night, in a very similar position except then you sat before a mirror as he guided you to touch yourself, to aid him in giving you release, insisting you watch yourself as you moaned his name in ecstacy and he poured honey filled praises in your ear. He pulled two releases from you, forcing your eyes back on yourself, before he finally filled you, and the sight of him inside you, both your expressions twisted in pleasure, was the most erotic sight of all. 

The memory flashed in your eyes and you saw his current actions for what they were, a blatant attempt at seduction, as he used that same deep velvety voice as when he was trying to make you come, as his lips grazed your ear and beautiful silver hair fell over your shoulder, as he said, “Kill him, my love.” 

And you thought… 

You thought he might be right. 

Maybe you should kill this condescending king. You were more powerful than him. You were more powerful than everyone but your lover, no, to Aemond you were his equal. 

His Lady Death, and maybe it was finally time to take what was your own, to use your skills and powers for yourself, not in the service of others, not in the service of a king who didn’t appreciate you. 

You indeed felt that power within you begin to rise to the surface. 

And the king blanched, fear changing his expression. 

“What are you?” He gasped. 

And just like that, the fire that had begun to build inside you, which you were sure was molten in your eyes, sputtered out as if water had been thrown on you. 

“Your loyal servant,” you murmured with a curtsey. 

Death growled his discontentment, but you ignored him. 

The king nodded, his lips pursed, and dismissed you. 

For the first time in a long long time, you were uncertain of your own actions and choices. 

————————————————————

Two weeks later, you were in the North with a list of targets from the king to dispatch. 

The image of the king’s fear of you constantly flashed in your mind, regret and pride creating an uncomfortable cocktail of emotions within you. 

The regret was waning as Death continued as your constant companion, seducing and urging you forward. 

Your days became routine, although it was a comforting routine. 

Wake up, eat, train your magic, prepare, kill, be rewarded in the form of Aemond fucking you, sleep, and do it all over again the next day. 

The last name on your list of kills in the North was one you were actually eager for. This kill you would savor rather than committing without feeling. This time, you were able to use your skills for both your King and your own gain. 

This man had been one of your tormentors in your youth, you’d never had the time to track him down after he fled from King’s Landing, and now you would grant him the slow painful death he deserved. 

He sat in his home, a candle in the window, and you knew the timing was right. You’d watched him for days and knew you had a window of time of about two hours before his preferred courtesan arrived. 

Hate had your heart beating like a drum, your power rising, but you stifled it. You had to be clear headed and you didn’t want to use your powers to grant him an instant death, no, he deserved something wholly different. You wanted to feel his death, his blood on your own hands. 

You snuck through the back door, through the broken lock you’d disabled the night before. 

You ensured you were well and truly alone- besides your Angel of Death, creeping through the dark house towards your quarry.

You stepped into the sitting room and relished the way his eyes widened in fear, then recognition as you threw back your hood. 

He breathed out a name, not one of your many titles, a name from a past life, a name no one besides Death knew, a name not even your king knew. 

The flames in your eyes guttered, replaced by cold rage. 

His eyes again filled with fear as you threw a dagger that embedded itself in his shoulder. 

A yell of pain and outrage as he tried to stand, but quick as an asp another dagger fled from your hand and buried itself into his other shoulder. 

Another dagger was in your hand, poised to throw if necessary. 

He gritted his teeth, blood flowing heavily, and you smirked. 

“Bitch,” he spat out. 

Aemond appeared behind you, and hissed in disapproval. 

Anger fell to cold terror as he beheld the Death God behind you. 

His haunting beauty, both terrible and great, that was the other side of the coin to your own- that made you the perfect pair. 

“You can see him?” you asked. 

He nodded and the smell of urine filled the room. 

“Interesting,” you murmured even as your nose wrinkled at him. 

“It’s high time I teach you what real fear feels like,” you purred, your words an echo of the ones he’d said to you in your girlhood. 

And show him you did. 

Even after you were done, your rage was a jagged thing in your chest that threatened to swallow you whole. You didn’t know how to put it back in that carefully constructed box that allowed you to play the part of the disinterested assassin. 

Aemond crouched over the body, pressing two fingers to the forehead, sending the soul to the afterlife- to eternal torment, as he always did after you killed. 

He was the beginning and end of the destruction you wreaked on others, on the world. 

Slaughter, that was what you had done today. You couldn’t decide if it made you feel better or worse. You supposed it didn’t matter, the man was no longer capable of hurting others the way he had hurt you. 

Death prowled to you, and you looked up at him, chest still heaving and beating hard from whatever today’s actions had both shattered and healed within it. 

He stood close enough that his steady chest brushed against yours. 

Dark flames danced in his gaze, the same that danced in your own when your emotions were heightened, you both had the same unholy powers as a result of your bond, your union. 

And you knew he understood you completely, when he said nothing, for there were no words that would soothe now, no he simply leaned down and kissed you, thoroughly and deeply. 

When he pulled back, only slightly, brushing his sharp nose against yours, he murmured, “You taste better when you mean it, when your heart is in the kill.” 

You let him make love to you in the blood spattered room. 

————————————————————

Your waking hours and dreams bled into one, so filled with him and the pleasure only he could provide. 

This was indeed one of those moments, where the release he pulled from you was so strong, so heady, that you could not be certain if you were awake or dreaming. 

You moaned as he gripped your hips and continued a brutal pace as he thrusted inside you. 

Your power, his power, flames of Death danced and burned in the bed along with you as he joined himself with you. 

You burned with heat, with love for the only one who truly understood you- your mirror image due to the brutality inside both of you. 

But suddenly, he stopped. 

“Wake up,” he ordered, an expression you’d never seen on his face before, something akin to panic. 

“What?” you asked in confusion. 

“Wake up!” he yelled, and at that primal dominance in his tone, you obeyed. 

You held in your gasp as your eyes opened and you beheld the scene before you. 

You were not alone. The room was filled with men all with weapons in their hands.  

“The king sends his regards,” the assassin in your bed hissed as he lifted a dagger to thrust it into your heart. 

You had less than a heartbeat to react. 

Just as the sharp tip of the dagger broke your skin, black flames exploded out of you, ravaging the room and everyone in it. 

You sat up, hand on your chest and blood coating your fingers, and surveyed your destruction.  

The room was filled with fire. Every man was instantly dead, and now your black flames turned them to ashes. 

Aemond stood in the center of your storm, and watched you, pride evident in his gaze. 

Betrayal twisted in your gut, making you feel sick, and you extinguished the fire. 

“He tried to kill me,” you rasped out. 

Your angel of death, your protector, your lover in life and death nodded. 

“He fears you and the power you hold. He is a jealous coward,” he said, cold anger filling every word. 

“You were right,” you whispered, hoping that if you said them quietly enough that they wouldn’t be true. 

He simply nodded again. 

And it finally sunk in. The king you had devoted your entire adult life to, the king you had defiled yourself for through all manner of heinous acts of bloodshed, had betrayed you. 

He had turned on you, quickly and easily, despite your continued loyalty. He’d sent a group of men to kill you in your sleep after you just finished killing everyone on his list. 

He always had someone else do his dirty work, the coward he is, but usually you’re the one he sends out. 

This time he’d sent others to kill you as if you were no more than a loose end, a task to check off his list, and inconvenience that had grown too taxing. 

You met the heavy gaze of Death and said, “I know what I have to do.” 

————————————————————

The entire journey back to the Red Keep Aemond reviewed and revised the plan with you over and over again. 

You were ready. You were prepared. 

All of the skills, techniques, and powers you had acquired you were going to use for your own gain, for yourself today - with Death at your side. 

No one knew the secret passages of the Red Keep better than the King’s Assassin. You crept in at night, using the darkness as a cloak and remaining completely undetected. 

You set yourself up high in the mezzanine above the throne room and settled in for a long wait. 

Patience was key to your plan, to all of your plans generally, but it didn’t mean that the fury didn’t still burn as hot as ever. 

You let the black flames twirl and dance around your fingers and promised yourself that this time, it would be different. This time, you would come out on top. 

Hours passed, your legs cramped, but you ignored it, waiting, waiting, waiting for the right moment. 

You watched as dawn broke, bathing the room in golden light that bounced off the Iron Throne. 

The king eventually sat on that throne, meeting with petitioners, and you continued your game of patience. 

Finally, the moment was right, the room was no longer teeming with people, but not empty enough that there wouldn’t be an audience. 

You leapt from your hiding spot and landed nimbly right before him. Shock and fear changed his previously bored expression. 

You smirked, a cutting spiteful thing, as you stood. 

There was yelling from the king’s guards, but your midnight fire surrounded and circled the king and you, separating you both from everyone else in the room. The few who tried to cross it died instantly, the others learned from their mistakes and stepped back from your flames and watched.  

“Surprised to see me?” You asked. 

The blood drained from his face. 

Satisfaction only fueled the righteous fury in your chest. 

“Yes,” he admitted. 

“You tried to kill me,” you hissed through gritted teeth. 

“Yes,” he merely repeated. 

“I have given EVERYTHING for you and to protect your rule. Have done EVERYTHING you asked. And this is how you reward me? By sending others to murder me in my sleep?” You said, lip curling in a snarl and angry tears pooling in your eyes. 

Death became visible at your side, not behind you like your puppeteer- beside you as your equal. He was not only visible to you- no you knew he was always with you - he became visible to everyone in the room as your fire pulsed higher and hotter. 

His hand on your back steadied and reassured you. 

Gasps filled the room once more. 

You glanced at Aemond, his long white hair juxtaposed against the black of his wings, his beauty something of dreams and nightmares. He had an intense look on his sharp face, but underneath it was love for you and only you. 

The king looked at his ancestor, made eye contact with his own demise, then looked back at you. 

“You were too dangerous to be kept alive,” he said. 

“I was completely loyal to you until your lackey tried to stab me in the heart,” you spat. 

“I suspect it will be the last mistake I ever make,” he said. 

“That is correct,” Aemond replied, his voice smooth and confident. 

“Kill him, my love,” Death urged. This time, you listened. 

A ball of fire appeared in your hand as you bared your teeth at the man who would no longer be your ruler. 

“You were right to fear me,” you said darkly, and threw Death Flames at your king. 

————————————————————

Aemond walked forward slowly and reached towards the king as you took gasping shuddering breaths.

You stopped seeing him, stopped seeing anything, as the impact of your actions crashed over you. 

He was before you once more, and with gentle fingers under your chin, he tilted your head back so you could meet his gaze. 

“My Lady Death, My Queen,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear before he pressed his lips to yours. 

His kiss enveloped and steadied you. 

Your flames sputtered out, but no one made a single move, for fear of the two of you. 

As he pulled back, he smiled at you, took a step back, and placed the conqueror’s crown on your head. 

“How do I taste now?” you asked. 

“Exquisite,” he murmured, his voice deep and soft as velvet. 

You grinned back at him, a wild feral thing.

He took your hand and led you to sit on the Iron Throne. 

Death then kneeled before you, bowing his head. 

“Kneel before your Queen,” he ordered, loud enough for all to hear. 

Everyone in the room followed suit. 

You became the new Queen of the Seven Kingdoms with Death at your side. 

You would rule together, side by side, using your powers for your own gain, as Queen and King, as Death and His Lady. 

[nina-ya]

Patching up Sanjis Wounds

Zoro Law Sanji Shanks Ace Luffy Sabo Doflamingo Pairing: Sanji x Reader CW: Blood mentions, light wound descriptions, Sanji being a little flirty shit as usual. WC: 756

The chances that the love cook would take a huge hit for you and leave you to be the one to patch him up are high, and unfortunately this exact scenario just unfolded. Sanji is currently sprawled out in front of you after taking a major hit for you, bleeding from every place imaginable. The bleeding from his nose is most likely from the fact that you’re currently compressing some of the cuts on his chest so they can clot and those lovesick eyes he is directing towards you is practically confirming your suspicions. “Why did you do that?! Do you know how reckless that was?!” You practically yell at him as you scramble to help him. “I always help a lady in need, especially you~” he slurs out. You can’t tell if he’s love drunk or has lost too much blood based on the way he’s speaking. You roll your eyes at his response and start unbuttoning his shirt to take a better look at his wounds. He seems to light up at your touch. “Mademoiselle, I didn’t think this would be how our first time would go. I imagined preparing a lovely dinner fir-“ You groan loudly. “Sanji! With all due respect, this is not what you think it is. Get your mind out of the gutter and tell me where it hurts.”

He pouts when you shoot his advances down. “It hurts right here,” he says, guiding your your hand over his heart. Before you scold him again for his flirtation at this inappropriate time, you see the deep red that has enveloped his chest and you gasp softly. Sanji's injury is much worse than you initially thought, and the sight of the deep red seeping from his chest was enough to fill you with concern. You hold back your frustration and focus on the task at hand. "Sanji, where else does it hurt?" He winces and lets out a heavy sigh, his usual confident demeanor momentarily fading as he admits, "Everywhere, honestly." You fight back the pang of frustration and set your focus on treating him. "Alright, let's get you patched up. But seriously, Sanji, no more of your romantic fantasies right now. We need to stop this bleeding." As you work to remove his blood-soaked shirt, Sanji can't help but show his appreciation, although his pain is clear. "You have the gentle touch of an angel, ma belle." You can't help but let out a half-laugh, half-sigh. "Sanji, I'm trying to save your life here, not audition for a romance play." He manages a weak smile amidst his discomfort. "Sorry, it's just hard not to admire your beauty, even in the midst of all this." You smile slightly and focus on cleaning his wounds, and begin to wrap up some of the deeper gashes. Sanji winces and grits his teeth, but he doesn't complain about the pain. He seems to understand the gravity of the situation, and it has sobered him up, for the most part. “You know this was stupid, right?” You mutter softly, your voice filled with care. “Nothing is stupid when it comes to you.” he retorts. You let out a sigh. “Sanji, this was very stupid. If you had gotten more hurt than this, if you had… if you had died, I…” you trail off, suddenly becoming emotional. Your lip quivers as you try to focus on holding back tears so you can help him. Sanji sees your distress and lightly grabs your hand. “I will not die, not any time soon at least. I need to at least get a kiss from you before I can say I have lived a satisfied life.” You sniffle, your emotions still raw, but you manage a small laugh in response. “Yeah, well, I don't think ill be satisfied with just a kiss.” Sanjis' blue eyes sparkle with longing and a grin spreads across his face. “Oh? Do tell what it is you had in mind.” He says cheekily. Your laughter fills the air and affection floods your voice. “Hey, lets get you to Chopper first, okay?” You say, finalizing the wrapping of the wounds. “But for now, I will leave you with this.” Leaning in, you press a kiss to his lips. Its a tender and affectionate kiss, conveying all the emotions you had been suppressing: relief, gratitude, and an undeniable connection between you two. Sanjis' Lips were warm and warm and welcoming, and for that moment, you can forget about the chaos of the world around you two.

[vampire-matcha]

Part 3 of Cheating!Soap I hope yall are ready to hurt

Hurt/barely comfort if you squint. Soap and reader are both a little (a lot) pathetic.

Johnny didn't move a muscle on the couch. He sat until he was sure you had cried yourself to sleep. He listened as your weeping got more and more subdued, as your heartache wore you down until he could no longer hear your gasps for air. He figures you must have wept yourself to exhaustion. That is, until he hears the bedroom door creak open. He listens to your bare feet pad down the hardwood hallway until the sound is muted by the living room carpet.

Johnny lifts his head from his hands to see you standing there at the other end of the couch. He's never seen you look so weak. So defeated. He did that to you. Your head hangs low and your shoulders are slumped forward; your eyes are dull and your hands hang limp at your sides.

He drops his head again, unable to face what his actions have done to you. You, his angel, his perfect wife. Always patient, always brave, always waiting for him to come home safe. He can't look at you now. He feels the seat beside him sink with your weight. The silence drags on for far too long. When you finally speak, your voice is proven, as if he had personally smashed your throat beneath his foot. He might as well have.

"If this is you..." You pause, searching for the right words. You start again. "If this is you trying to... to figure something out..." You trail off. Your mind isn't all there right now, it melted out through your tear ducts. "If this is you... experimenting..." You take a shaky breath. "Then we can work on this."

He slowly turns his head toward you, eyebrows pinched in confusion. You should be asking for a divorce. You should be telling him to get his filthy ass out. And yet, here you are extending an olive branch. It shouldn't be you. He's the guilty party. He should be groveling at your feet for forgiveness, and you should be denying him.

Your ring still gleams on your finger.

Johnny shakes his head. You've got it all wrong. You're giving him too much compassion. Giving him the benefit of the doubt. It's all wrong. But he can't get the right words out either. All he manages is a shake of his head.

"That's not..." he chokes out. His chest feels like it's encased in iron. Your face crumples again. That awful, anguished look that he had never seen before this night. You make a small, pathetic noise in the back of your throat, trying desperately to hold onto your threadbare composure.

"Then why, Johnny?" You croak out, sounding like you have his fist wrapped around your neck. That would hurt less than this. You gasp for air. "Why did you do this to us?" Us! His poor darling, still thinking of you two as a unit. Can't you see he's ruined it? Why aren't you screaming at him?

"I was scared," he answers. You look at him with great worry in your eyes, now.

"Did he... did he force you?" Oh, there you are again, caring too much for this wretched man before you, giving him compassion he does not deserve. He's quick to deny it. He won't give himself such an easy out. He deserves the shame of the truth.

"No- no! He didn't- we-" he's scrambling for an explanation that won't shatter you completely. You're already fragile and broken. The details will only grind you to bits, won't they? But your looking at him like that, like you won't stop until you know why.

"We were pinned. Communications were dark. There was no way out, and were were in that house for so damn long, I... I didn't think I was coming home." He wants you to snap at him. He wants you to scream at him. That's what you did before you thought you would die? Your last act was to betray your wife? But that's not at all what you do. You're quiet again. Subdued, drowning again in that pretty head of yours.

"Do you love him?" You whisper, the sound made of glass. You barely contain a sob as you stare down at your toes. The answer comes easily to him.

"No." You squeeze your eyes tight, like you don't believe him.

"If it's just sex, I- then I c-can live with it but-" your breath is escaping you as you chase after it to keep it in your lungs. You're losing the race. "But please tell me you don't love him!" And you break again. You wrap your arms around yourself and dig your nails into your arms. You're hurting yourself when you should be hurting him. Tearing him up, throwing him out like the garbage he is. He can't stand the sight of it. He moves.

"I don't! I don't love him!" He rushes out as his hands snap to yours to prevent you from raking harsh lines into yourself. He finally touches you, finally, and it's like cool water on a summer's day. You fall into him, and he wraps you up.

"I can't take it if you love him!" you wail, eyes and nose and mouth all wet. "Please!" He holds you tighter, pulls you onto his lap, tucks your head under his chin, cradles you like an infant.

"I promise," he says right into your ear. He needs to make sure you hear it. "It's you. It's only you. I love you. I love you. I love you." He utters it like a prayer. Breathes it out like a confessional. Utters it only for your holy ears to hear. You cling to him like a raft in a storm. Your nails dig into his chest. Finally, he can pay for his sins. Penance through pain. He hopes you break the skin. A blood sacrifice to the goddess in his arms.

"Please don't leave me," you mumble. It's a pitiful plea. He hates himself for knocking you down so low. Why are you begging him? Don't you know it should be him instead? He holds you impossibly closer, almost afraid to crush you.

"Never. Never." You draw back suddenly, both hands holding his face. There's a firey desperation in your eyes. He feels the metal of your ring pressing into his cheekbone.

"Swear to me." Your wild eyes dart back and forth between his.

"I swear-"

"Whatever you do out there- whatever you have to do to make it through- to make it home-" your words come out rushed between panicked breaths. You grimace and shake your head, unable to finish the thought. "Whatever you do, you come home to me. Me. Your wife."

"My wife," he repeats and nods.

"Swear it!"

"I swear!" And then you kiss him. It's wet and clumsy and shaky. Your lips taste like stomach acid but he can't find it in himself to care. He'll do anything you want if only to lessen your pain.

"We made a vow, John MacTavish," you whisper, lips trembling against his. Your fingernails dig into his shaved scalp. Good. "You are mine."

"I'm yours. I'm yours." You press your forehead against his.

"Now take your wife to bed."

---

Part 4

[the-record]

ICU

SUMMARY: ellies lost her keys…again… luckily dina’s pretty friend has an empty bed

PAIRING: ellie williams x reader

WARNINGS: none?

A/N: i missed these and yall!! not fully back but i miss writing also if u see stranger things content don’t be alarmed! still v much in love with ellie and abs

‘ I FEEL SOMETHING WHEN I SEE YOU NOW ‘

elliewilliams

elliewilliams LET ME INNNNNNNN. JOEL PLEASE LET ME INNNNNNNN

tagged: joelmmm

load comments…

dina_nolastname BAAHHAHA IMAGIWN 

   elliewilliams i HATE you CRY URSELF TO SLEEP

joelmmm 💤💤💤

   elliewilliams JOEL PLEASE UTS COLD

   elliewilliams IM TIRED AND IM VERY SORRY 

   elliewilliams JOELLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

jessesucks go to tommy and marias stupid

   elliewilliams why didnt i think of that? oh wait I DID ITS 2 AM AND THEY HAVE A BABY STUPJD HOW DID YOU EVEN GRADUATE??!!?!?!

yourusername did u lose ur key again

   elliewilliams …no… also HOW DO U KNOW AB THAT?!?!

      yourusername dina talks a LOT when shes drunk

angel: ellie come to mine

ellie: huh?

a: ur locked out, im not, my beds made, urs probably isnt, come over.

e: u barely know me?!?!?

a: dina trusts u idc, come over rn or ill pick u up.

e: send me ur address.

“this was really nice of you.” ellies voice breaks the silence as make room for her beside you. you wave your hand, no worries, but she insists. “no seriously, you could’ve let me die. freeze. starve even.”

when you laugh she doesn’t think she’s ever heard a better sound. “ellie i don’t think any of those things would’ve happened.” you smile and lean on an elbow to look at her. “and i really don’t mind, gets lonely anyways. need a loser dork to fill the silence.” you tease.

she gasps in faux hurt, tracing an imaginary tear down her face.

elliewilliams

elliewilliams an ANGEL yall. $10,000,000 for her and her only.

tagged: yourinstagram

load comments…

yourusername bye i let you stay over a night 😭 i didnt cure cancer

   elliewilliams ur right. $100,000,000 mb

dina_nolastname *sighs*

   elliewilliams i hate you.

joelmmm yourusername I am so sorry Ellie intruded, I’ll pay you for your time and kindness. 

   yourusername 😭😭 damn

      elliewilliams ignore him, he drinks

         yourusername its 8 am.

jessesucks oh you will NEVER live this down.

   elliewilliams blocked.

a_anderson you are an embarrassment to society!

   elliewilliams i hate all of u.

e: hey!

a: real chipper today huh

e: didn’t lose my key all week so yes very

e: i have a question tho

a: lmao im gonna steal ur key from u, whats up?

e: do u wanna go to a concert this weekend??

e: i bought the tickets for dina and i but she cancelled last minute and jesse cant go

e: its like 2 hours away on saturday 

e: also do NOT touch my key please i m begging

a: yea actually id love too :)

a: text me the details

e: great

e: okay yea ofc

elliewilliams 

elliewilliams so…

tagged: yourusername 

load comments…

dina_nolastname MRS STEAL UR GIRL 

   elliewilliams SHE WAS NEVER URS!!!

jessesucks GASPING when did this development occur.

   elliewilliams 🤓☝️

      jessesucks BREAK UP

yourusername girl on the left is sooo fine

   elliewilliams crazy, im more into the one on the right

   dina_nolastname yall r EMBARRASSING 

joelmmm yourinstagram Come for dinner tomorrow! Would love to meet Ellie’s pick of the month. 🩷

   yourinstagram GOODBYEEE

   elliewilliams JOEL?!?!??!!!??!

yourusername

yourusername in an interesting turn of events…

tagged: elliewilliams

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jessesucks GAG

   yourusername this is why dina dumped you! 💋

      dina_nolastname BYEEE true tho

elliewilliams bruh we are so cute

   yourusername okay “bruh”

      elliewilliams WIAT OM SORRY

dina_nolastname mrs. stolen girl 💔💔

   yourusername im always urs bae 

a_anderson wheres MY cute gf damn.

   yourusername I KNOW SOMEONE WHOO LIIIIIIKES YOU!!

      a_anderson SPILL. 

   elliewilliams go away! 💋

a: hey

e: hi

a: come over?

a: please?

e: are you okay??

a: just please come over.

e: im omw right now

e: be there in 10

e: unlock the front door

a knock on your door wakes you from the light sleep you’d been in. a small ‘come in’ has ellie gently opening the door and walking softly towards your bed. her hands brush hair from your face, a kind smile on her face. something you can’t pinpoint in her eyes.

“you doing okay babe?” her voice is just above a whisper, though no one else would be home to hear it otherwise. “tired?”

you hum an answer out and reach for one of her hands, fiddling with her rings and avoiding her eyes. “can you turn off the light and sit with me?” she smiles and nods, savoring one more second before standing and taking off her jacket while walking to the switch.

its still light out, the evening sun beginning to set but still lighting up enough of your room. as she’s getting in beside you, she notices what you’re wearing. “nice shirt,” ellie says with a snort.

its one of hers, you stole it a few weeks ago with no intention of giving it back. her heart grows as a small smile graces your features. “there she is.” you flush and turn away. she coos teasingly while getting comfortable behind you.

when you do turn, shes the perfect pillow. her fingers trace your features as your eyes shutter closed.

e: hi love, you wanna do something today?

a: you have something in mind?

e: thought we could go bowling 

e: that new bowling place just opened downtown, looks cute

a: kinda tired. do something at home?

e: alreadyomw with snacks for u

a: youre the best.

a: i miss you.

e: i miss you too. you doing okay?

a: are you at work

a: im tired

e: i get off in 30 

e: come over to mine, joel will let you in

a: okay

elliewilliams 

elliewilliams bbg needs a NAP theyre grouchy

tagged: yourusername 

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yourusername i know where you live.

   elliewilliams LOVE YA!

joelmmm Photo creds.

   elliewilliams sighs.

dina_nolastname angel ALWAYS needs nap bro gets really grumpy

   yourusername I ALSO KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE

      dina_nolastname see? grumpy.

jessesucks we’ve all seen the pictures she looks absolutely BEAUTIFUL, uhm… and he’s there… (ellie is he)

   dina_nolastname (ellie is he) BYE

   yourusername HEY JESSIE WOAHHH FEELS LIKE A PARTY EVERYDAY

   elliewilliams remember when dina dumped u?

a: can we go to the aquarium 

e: you feel up to it?

a: no obviously i asked because i don’t 

e: OKAY SORRY DAMN

e: god just being a supportive girlfriend and this is what i get. 

a: GOODBYE I DONT WANNA GO ANYMORE

e: no im sorry im sorry im sorry i wanna go

a: YAY

a: pick me up in 30 pls

e: of course love 

e: im glad you’re feeling better

e: very excited rn

yourusername

yourusername finally left the house after 72628748829 years 

tagged: elliewilliams

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elliewilliams @ the guy who took this for us ur so real

   yourusername YEA!!!!!!

dina_nolastname yall r so cute CRY

   yourusername u want me fr

jessesucks ICK

   dina_nolastname this is why i dumped u

elliewilliams 

elliewilliams a moment for the gf!

tagged: yourusername

load comments…

yourusername OF ALL THE THINGS YOU POST THIS?!?!? THIS?!!!!!!!?

   elliewilliams but u look so pretty

      yourusername CHOKE ily

         elliewilliams I love YOU

dina_nolastname my wife is so gorg

   elliewilliams back off?

      yourusername LADIES LADIES theres enough of me to go around

jessesucks cute ig

joelmmm You found a good one babygirl! 

   elliewilliams DAMN RIGHT I DID

e: hey i love you

a: i love you too

a: u lose ur key again?

e: …

a: ffs come over good god

e: already here!

a: R U IN MY KITCHEN??!

e: ur mom says hi

e: be up in a sec!! snacks!

[weirdmorefics]

Angels May Escape The Flames But Witches Never Do- Crowley X reader

A/N- Aziraphale X Crowley X Reader if you squint. This is kind of the same reader/witch as one of my other Crowley one-shot but they both can be read by themselves. If you want to read more with the witch reader click here or my masterlist

Pronouns- She/Her

Hurt/Comfort

TW- Fire, Emetophobia, Concussion

Word Count- 1,232

Summary- The reader gets stuck in the bookshop when Sergeant Shadwell sets fire to it.

I was in the back of the bookshop organizing the shelves because the shop was a mess, which is understandable since we are literally entering armageddon.

I heard Aziraphale shout uncharacteristically loud "You stupid Man!"

I peeked around the shelf to see what the problem was when I saw a blue light followed by Aziraphale screaming the F-bomb if the situation wasn't so dire I think I would have found myself dying of laughter.

I see Aziraphale vanish into the light and the man looks as shocked as I do. He shouts, "Hello" then turns for the door. I ran after him "What have you done!"

"I just saved you from a nasty witch," he smiles proudly.

I scowl deeply at him, "Aziraphale was no witch! I think you also may need to check your prejudice. We are no longer living in the era of witch trials, burnings, and hangings."

He gasps, "I should have known witches always travel in covens. You are one of them!"

I should have known to not mess with a so-called witch-hunter considering many of my ancestor's pasts but I was filled with rage over what happened to Aziraphale. So I venomously spit out " What if I am a witch? What are you going to do about it!" I expected some witty comeback or some exorcism but he shocked me when he ran full force into me knocking me to the ground.

I hit my head so hard off the wood flooring my ears were ringing and I felt the air knocked out of my lungs. There was a crash behind me and he seemed to smile at the result. "Now you will go out in true witch fashion." He shouted while slamming the door behind him.

The loud slam of the door left my head ringing even louder. I tried to sit up but the ringing in my head became so loud I lurched to the side and vomited. I reluctantly had to lay back down because it seemed moving was not an option. It started to feel very hot and I wasn't sure if it was the fact that I just vomited my guts out or the concussion I so obviously had received. I moved my eyes to the side to see the unfortunate cause of the heat. It was a fire growing rapidly I would do anything to save the books, to save Aziraphale's legacy but I was becoming increasingly tired and my eyes fluttered closed.

I keep going in and out of consciousness as the fire gets hotter and hotter. My last concussion definitely did not take this long to wake up from but that one was not during a rapidly growing fire. There was no way I was getting out of this it was getting progressively harder to breathe and I could not use any spells in this state not that any of my ingredients were going to survive this mess. Maybe all witches were meant to die like this burning in the great flames of their ancestors.

I hear the doors fly open with a bang which scares me for a moment because that is how the witch hunter left. Then I hear Crowley's voice Crowleys beautiful voice, "Do I look like I run a bookshop?"

He shouts Aziraphale's name and mine repeatedly. I want to shout that I am here but I can't manage to get a word out. He starts rambling about where the Heaven/Hell are you two for God's sake or whoever's sake.

I try so hard to get anything out but all I can manage are weak coughs and wheezes. Maybe it really is too late for me...

Water shoots through the glass window shattering it and landing Crowley on the floor and for once the fates have smiled upon me. He lies face to face with me.

He smiles brightly at me and cups my face his glasses are knocked off and I am glad that I can see his beautiful yellow eyes one more time.

"My sorceress I... I thought you were gone," He whispers and holds my face like I might slip away if he loses his grasp.

My voice is very hoarse and hardly understandable, "Your eyes," I struggle to breathe, "I wish I got to see them more." I wheeze once more.

Crowley had always told you how much he disdains his eyes but at that moment he kissed your head, "You will sweetheart! you will!"

He goes to pick me up and I swat at him and he looks truly hurt, "Forget me," I gasp. "you don't have time!" tears spill from my eyes "Take the book it is all that matters. Save the earth," I think I have used all my air at this point I cough and I can't stop. Wet ashes coat my hand as they are expelled from my lungs.

Crowley looks utterly enraged at this statement. "If you think earth means anything without you and Angel you are sorely mistaken," he seethes.

I have no energy left to fight I close my eyes as I feel myself lugged over his shoulder. His shouts make the ringing ever so louder as he shouts for a medic. I want to tease him as I always do when he has that worried face but this time he has a right to be worried.

I am laid down so gently on a stretcher that I know it is Crowley because he has always been afraid I'll break since I am not an immortal being like them. I hear Medics shout things like grade two concussion, rib contusions, and severe smoke inhalation. Even though my head is still extremely foggy and my throat burns like hell I lift my oxygen mask off to speak.

Crowley forcibly places it back on, "Shh, darling don't speak. Save your energy."

I roll my eyes and ignore him and breathe deeply sounding like a sixty-year-old smoker, "Crowley, Azi is still alive. He was put in this blue-white ray. Save the earth for Aziraphale and me so we have a place to come back to... to be together again."

Crowley smiles brightly, "He's alive!"

"The book everything is in the book, please tell me you have the book." I wheeze.

"Sir, please tell her she needs to keep the oxygen mask on!" The medic yells annoyingly loud.

Crowley forces the mask back on me, "You really think I was going to forget the book you would risk your life over sweetheart." He does a wink and a smirk that instantly makes my heart monitor embarrassingly spike.

The medic looks at me concerned and asks if I am having palpitations which makes me blush harder. Crowley smiles at this and I am sure he is cataloging this memory in his brain to bring up constantly.

Crowley kisses the top of your head, "I am off to save our angle and our home."

Crowley takes his shades off and looks at the medic who scrambles backward knocking over medical supplies. "If you do not make sure she comes out of this in top-notch health there will be hell to pay!" He sticks out his forked tongue and I am scared the medic may die of fear before he can even fix me up.

He gives me one last kiss on the forehead "Until we meet again darling."

[madhatterbri]

Care | HOOK

Summary: Hook and you broke up. Anna with the help of Jack uses this to come for your championship belt. An unexpected hero saves you.

Author's Note: GIF has nothing to do with this it just makes me feral. 😭🤌

As always, requests. 🥺🥺

Life is hard working for a wrestling company. Friendships and relationships constantly came and went. You travel a lot and spent time with fellow wrestlers more than your own family. You swore you would never be with anyone in AEW until you laid eyes on Hook.

The relationship was physical at first. You both wanted to have sex without feeling bad for someone waiting for you to come home. It was nice at the beginning. You two would meet up together after the show. Times changed when you started developing feelings.

You were honest with him, but he wasn't interested in a relationship. The two of you were young. He wanted to experience the world. More like experience girls around the world. In order to avoid anymore hurt, you two decided to go your separate ways. That was three months ago.

Now you were getting ready to cut a promo in the ring. Your make-up was done and the championship belt was secure on your shoulder. Tonight was simple enough, anger Anna Jay. The two of you hated each other. It wouldn't be hard.

The unsettling feeling of someone watching you made the hairs on your neck stand. You turned to see the handsome devil himself. He was in a hoodie and sweatpants eating chips. His mind seemed to be in a different galaxy, but he was definitely staring at you. You missed being able to talk to him. Maybe that was a resolution for another year.

The familiar sound of your entrance music played in the arena. You walked out to the top of the ramp. The crowd went wild. Fans of different ages reached out for you to high five them.

The microphone was handed to you. An once rowdy crowd was quiet to hear you. You spoke your piece about Anna. Some of the insults were low. Tony gave you the green light to rile up Anna. You were going to take it. Your speech was cut off by Anna's music.

Anna came out with Jack in tow. She stormed to the ring. You dropped your championship belt in the middle of the ring to meet her outside the ropes. Anna was the first to swing. The two of you landing blows on each other. You never noticed Jack grabbing your championship belt from the ring.

"You think your fuck buddy is going to save you, Y/N?" She asked menacingly. You hadn't thought you would really need help. Normally, you weren't really put in jeopardy of actually losing the belt you worked so hard for.

"I don't need anyone," you scoffed. "I got in this business alone and I'll fight and die alone,"

"You think your are so funny?"

"Actually? Yeah," you answered truthfully. The crowd laughed at your corny jokes. You had to be funny. Anna pushed you to the ground. You landed on your hands and knees facing away from her.

'Rude,' you thought before getting up. You stood up and faced her. Before you could attack, Anna kicked you into the stairs. A scream of anguish sounded through the arena.

"What the fuck?" You asked yourself. Immediately the crowd gasped as their women's champ went down. Your head and back slammed to the stairs. Anna stood above you as you slid to the floor. The championship belt displayed on her shoulder. The camera zoomed in on the two of you. Your eyes pleaded for someone to help you.

"This is going to be mine, Y/N. I'm going to beat your ass until I say I'm tired. Do you understand me?" She yelled at you. You moved your legs as if to get up. She stood on your leg to stop you. Painful throbbing occurred under her foot.

The arena went dark. You were starting to wonder if you passed out. Your head throbbed and you were pretty sure your upper back fell out. The familiar rift of Chairman's Intent felt like an angel's song. Cheers filled the arena.

"We gotta go!" Jack yelled to her. Anna dropped the belt and ran with him into the audience.

Hook was at your side.

"Are you okay?"

"Do I look okay?"

"I was hoping she'd kick that shitty attitude out of you," he countered and helped you to your feet. Hook grabbed your belt knowing how possessive you were with it. Your legs wobbled as he helped you up the ramp. Several members of the crowd wished you a speedy recovery.

You limped to medical with him helping you inside. Hook helped you on the bed while you waited for the doctors to run their tests on you.

"Thanks. I didn't think anyone was going to save me,"

"You didn't think I would save you?" He questioned.

"I didn't think you would care."

"I've always cared,"

[romanoffsbish]

My Heart—It Beats For You

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R

Warnings: Blood, Violence, Angsty

Tropes: Dying love confession, miraculous save.

Requested by: @deadlynightshade418

It wasn't going well for you on the fourth floor of this Hydra building, you'd been sent here alone by the ill informed Captain America. Meant to disarm the bomb, while Natasha, Steve, and Tony all handled the goons below. Except there were goons everywhere around you—they had you cornered within seconds, and there wasn't much you could do now.

"Y/L/N, what's the hold up? We still need to collect the information on the fifth floor!," Natasha, who was in charge of said extraction, barked into the coms over a grunt, and when met by your silence she grew worried., "Y/N?," her heart stilled at your continued silence, you were never one to ignore a page, yet here you were ignoring her and it left her feeling uneasy.

————

————

"Steve, something's wrong.," she concludes, and before the man could wave off her worries she was abandoning her post and trudging up the flights of stairs to reach you. Only to burst through the door to find you crumpled on the floor, surrounded by an ever flowing puddle of your own blood., "Dear God, what happened?"

Natasha surveyed the room, noticing that whomever was here had already vacated, with her body now kneeled beside yours her hands were careful when flipping you onto your back, and she nearly failed to keep herself composed. The entirety of your face was stained crimson, and there were marks all over your now bare arms, the suit you're in now partially torn.

"Y/N. We have to go.," she tapped your face a few times, the sticky feeling of your blood on the pads of her fingers enough to make her nauseous, but it settles once your eyes open., "Am I in Heaven?," you smiled dopily up at the redhead., "I always knew you were an angel."

In any other case the woman would blush, hell, she'd even flirt back with you as is her norm. But in this moment she can't even return your smile, because judging by your smiling face things were not looking promising for you., "Hey, tell me, can you feel your legs?," she gripped on to your calf tightly over your suit, and she could feel her resolve breaking when you gasped in pain., "Ow, Natty that hurts..."

With quick precision she evaluated the rest of your wounds, using gauze from her thigh pouch that she kept around for moments like this she shoveled it in wherever she deemed appropriate, then she gave you a soft smile., "It's going to be okay krasivaya, don't worry."

Natasha was short on time, but she was still gentle as ever when pulling you onto your feet, her heart absolutely breaking as you whimper., "I know honey, but we have to go.," she gazed over to see the bomb ticking., "Guys, vacate the building, I have Y/N, but she's in no condition to handle the bomb.," your body jolted out of her hold at the reminder of your job, but her arm looped back around your waist and pulled you into her., "Natty, let me go, I can't fail you."

"Look at me.," her hand was firm, but gentle as she gripped your chin., "You could never fail me, well unless you were to die, so let's go.," your lip wobbled., "B-but the mission...," she was growing impatient., "Doesn't matter!," her demeanor left no room for argument, and quite frankly you were too tired., "Hold on tight.," her hand was now firmly placed over your hip, holding you against her while simultaneously covering one of your many bleeding wounds as she hurriedly rushed out of the room.

She really hated how you were about to risk it all for fear of not being enough, and for her at that—you were absolutely everything to her, but she sees now that she didn't tell you that. The love she held for you wasn't exactly locked away, but it wasn't something she outright said and now she is really regretting holding out as your body slumps even further into her own., "Natty, I'm tired...," the ground slightly shook, signaling the bombs minute mark., "Fuck."

Natasha wasn't showing it, but the woman was freaking out because though neither of you would lose limbs, you were still too close to the activation sight to leave unscathed and you quite frankly couldn't handle anymore damage. Even in your loopy state, you were painfully aware of your survival odds., "Natasha.," she grunted while dragging your nearly lifeless body down the mile long hallway towards the fire escape., "You need to leave me behind."

"Don't be fucking ridiculous.," she only sped up as the anger provided her the energy., "You're not allowed to die, I forbid you from doing so."

"Nat, we both know.," you were cut off by a harsh coughing, splatters of blood following and serving to finish off your sentiments., "I don't know a damn thing Y/N, other than that you said you didn't want to fail me—so don't.," she felt her own heart crack at her harshness, but the desperation to keep you alive fueled her entirely, and it caused you to shut your mouth in a faux show of giving in, but your mind consistently shouted at you, protect her...

Being well aware of the previous shake you knew the both of you wouldn't make it, so in a quick surge of adrenaline you abruptly shifted to behind the redhead, catching her off guard you spun her around and pulled her head into your chest just in time for the harsh explosion. Your bodies catapulted through the door that led to the fire escape, and Natasha placed her hands over your head in a desperate attempt to protect at least a part of you from any impact.

Once the both of you came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs you were thrown down she immediately overlooked the pain radiating from her entire body to shimmy out of your hold and look you over. Her lip trembling as she took in the shrapnel that now littered your exposed arms, and jammed into your back. Leaning against the brick wall she lifted your head to place it on her thigh for comfort

"Guys?.," she coughed harshly, her voice now raspy from the smoke and pain., "Please, you have to help. Y/N's not doing well, hurry..."

"Nat?," her entire body stilled when you spoke, she lifted her head off the wall and peered down at you., "Y/N/N?," she couldn't hide the waver in her voice, and she also didn't want to., "I-I love you Natty.," you brokenly sobbed., "Detka, please be quiet—save your strength."

"No, I-I'm dying Nat, and I need to say this.," her fists and jaw clenched., "No, you're not!"

"Nat, I love you with all of my heart, and I'm sorry I never said it. I always chickened out, because I.," you were interrupted by a harsh fit of coughs, your heart very well breaking when you heard her sobbing., "Y/N/N, please..."

"Because, well, I thought we had time Nat.," your hand slowly began to move about, and the redhead desperately moved to hold it., "It was really a naive mindset to have, judging by our line of work alone it was a bad call to make."

"We still have time.," she squeezed your hand, and willed her words to be true with every fiber of her being., "I hope so too, because I am not finished loving you yet Natalia—you're like my freaking soulmate.," you chuckled tiredly., "But if I don't make it, please don't stop living Nat."

“Live like you’re dying.,” you teasingly slur but the redhead couldn’t bring herself to laugh, not when there was so much left unsaid between you two—a life un-lived..., “I love you Natty.,” and with a final whisper of your love you slump fully into the ground, mind succumbing to the alluring void and the redhead sobs against you.

“I-I love you Y/N/N, please… Don’t leave me.,” a wave of intense nausea rolls through her, and she leans back into the wall to compose herself, and just as her eyes were shutting she heard a loud thud, and just as quickly as she’d fallen back she sat back up in a defensive stance., “Fucking finally.,” she cried out as she saw her teammates at their side., “Take Y/N, now!”

Tony kneeled down, then jabbed a mysterious needle into your neck, but Natasha didn’t feel the need to question him. You meant the world to more than just her, the team took to you fast, so she knew he was only trying to help., “Please.,” he lifted his mask briefly after her choked out pleading, nodding to the redhead in obvious understanding, then in the next second he was propelling through the murky sky with your near to lifeless body draped over his arms.

“Natasha.,” Steve went to help her up but she shoved him off., “No, I knew it was a bad idea, but you assured me she’d be fine.,” she hissed., “Steve—For your sake she better fucking be.,” the woman hobbled down the steps after her not so subtle threat was relayed, refusing his offerings for assistance with every reach out, and once she made it to the jet she collapsed.

Sobs wracking her brutalized body as she was only able to see yours when her eyes closed., “Please be okay moya lyubov’, we were only just getting started…,” as the jet lifts off the ground she closes her eyes in the hopes of finding relief in the darkness, and for a fleeting moment she manages to find it as a memory of your smile replays in her foggy mind.

—

When Steve landed the redhead jumped to her feet, stumbling down the ramp as soon as she was able to, and only stopping when Clint and Yelena pulled her tightly into them., “Sestra, the only way you can help Y/N, is if you help yourself.,” she tried to shrug them off, but it was to no avail as her entire body betrayed her.

“I-I need to get to her, please, she shouldn’t be alone.,” she cried., “She hates the hospital.”

The duo share a look, the younger blonde nods, then shifts to her sister., “I know, but she hates you being hurt more. So go get checked out, I’ll sit in her waiting room.,” the stubborn woman went to shake her head, but then Yelena settled her forehead against hers and softly whispered, “So mnoy ona v bezopasnosti Natalia.”

(She’s safe with me Natalia)

—

After two hours in Cho’s miracle cradle, and a more thorough check up Natasha was cleared. Just as soon as the words left Bruce’s lips she was off to the waiting room where she found a pensive Yelena stood talking to your doctor.

“It was touch and go, but we were able to get all of the bleeding under control, and her many wounds stitched up.,” Natasha could feel an almost sense of relief wash over her at his words., “However, she’s still not in the clear, her heart repeatedly stopped, so she’s under intense observation for the next 48 hours.,” and just as fast her heart sank to the pit of her stomach—you weren’t safe, and there was nothing she could do to make you as such.

Yelena immediately caught her sister as she was falling into a heap on the floor., “I-I love her so much.,” the blonde pulled her into her chest., “I know Nat, everyone does.,” she shook her head., “She doesn’t, I-I need her to know.”

Yelena looked to her sister incredulously., “Natalia, she knows.,” Nat began to chew on her lower lip., “No… She didn’t, she confessed to me, but it almost felt like she was unsure if I’d love her back.,” her brows furrowed as she remembered just a few hours back., “Which is totally crazy, right? Because I don’t let anyone else call me Natty, or ever hug me at random. I don’t ever cuddle up to anyone else. I-I.”

“She knows Nat…,” Yelena reaffirms her belief., “She just wanted to hear you say it aloud.,” the redhead looks at her in fearful disbelief., “Oh my gosh, I have to go, I need to tell her!,” she jumped to her feet, then after finding out what room you were in she ran down the hallways.

“Kakiye idioty.,” the blonde shook her head with an amused smile as she saw her sister go.

(What idiots)

Natasha enters your room just as the nurse exits, the space is dark—just as your prognosis was, but the lights of your various monitors illuminates your face enough for her to see just how much damage you really took out there. Marred as you were, there was still so much for her to marvel at, like the rise and fall of your chest reassuring her of your continuing life.

Natasha pulled up a chair, wincing at the sound of it scraping across the floor of your painfully quiet room. She settles down beside you and grabs your hand., "Privet krasivaya...," a bitter smile overtakes her face as she remembers all the times you'd get flustered by the simple phrase in the past., "I-God, I don't know what to say here...," she squeezes your limp hand for comfort, and tried to calm down.

A reminiscent smile befalls her face as her mind begins to run wild with memories of you two together...

•—•~~~•—•~~~~~•~~~~~•—•~~~•—•

"H-hi.," you extended your hand out, waiting patiently for the intimidating redhead to take it into hers, but it quickly dropped when she only stared at you—menacingly., "You're late cadet."

"I know, I'm terribly sorry ma'am, but...," you began to ramble, the leading agent went to cut you off, but you were proving too intriguing not to hear out so she simply leaned back and observed the way you frantically rambled on.

"I swear I left my house on time miss. I’d stopped to get breakfast, because it’s the most important meal of the day you know, and well today’s so very important so obviously I needed to fuel my body. Then, after I went to leave the shop I took a right instead of left and found myself a bit lost.,” she held back her smirk in favor of stoicism, but she also felt a fluttering within her stomach at the sight of your adorably furrowed brows and scrunched nose.

“But get this, it was like fate called me that way because I found a box of abandoned kittens spilled out onto the sidewalk and into the gutter. No way could I just leave the precious babies behind so I rushed them back to my apartment, set them up with some warm blankets, and then I raced here, but —.”

“Enough.,” she sent you a pointed stare, and with the raise of her hand she had you hushed., “Agent…,” you hesitated, but her nod told you to speak, so you answered in a awkward way., “Y/L/N—Y/N Y/L/N.,” she bit back a chuckle, she found your Bond-esque answer endearing.

“Well, Agent Y/L/N, now that you’ve wasted fifteen minutes of my class, do you think you can join the rest of your fellow cadets?,” she held her stoicism up, commanding respect from all present, but she didn’t miss the way your lip wobbled slightly, or the way that it honestly broke her heart to see it., “Shit…”

Natasha had never felt such a warmth before, and definitely not after just meeting someone. There was an honest remorse within her when she watched you running around gloomily, and though against her better judgment there was a pull in her heart telling her she needed to make it right with you somehow; you were special.

When the class ended Natasha stopped you., “I’m sorry Miss Romanoff, it won’t happen again, I promise.,” she nodded, then in a shocking way she smiled at you., “Hey Y/N.,” you hummed in lieu of words, completely awestruck that she’d addressed you without formalities., “Did you happen to see a black cat in the litter by chance?,” you nodded instantly, and you felt your entire body warm up when she met you with a genuine lopsided smirk. There was something so beautiful about it, and having it aimed at you truly felt like a dream.

“Lead the way then detka.,” Natasha held the door open for you, so you swiftly exited, and she followed you out, then she escorted you to her corvette stingray. The woman watched you in amusement as you stared in awe at her car., “Shall we go then Y/N?,” you hopped in, then settled into the seat with an appreciative sigh., “Thanks for the ride Miss—.,” “Natasha.”

——

Natasha shut her file as she heard the incoming pattering of your distinct steps., "Natty! Look!," the woman gazed up at you fondly from her desk with a bright smile, one that you had never realized was only ever present for you., "Let me see.," she playfully snatched the paper from your hands and began to read it over.

"Congratulations Y/N/N.," she stood to level with you, instantly huffing in faux annoyance when your body giddily collided with hers, but in direct contradiction she hugged you tight., "Drinks?," she proposed, then watched you look at her questioningly., "What? We must celebrate your rank climbing somehow, hm?"

"But Natty, you're my commanding officer.," you looked up at her puzzled and she simply smirked down at you., "Y/N, I don't just let my cadets call me Natty, and I haven't been your boss since I left for the Avengers Initiative.," you pulled back with an understanding nod, and before you could start to ramble like she knew you would she asked again., "Drinks?"

You nodded sheepishly, your nerves obvious, and the redhead smiled back at you softly., "Right answer detka.," she winked at you, then she slipped her leather jacket on, and in a moment of bravery she slid her hand into yours, tugging you out of the room and while you wore your surprise outwardly, internally her heart was hammering against her ribcage, and in combination you were gay messes... 

——

Natasha was anxiously waiting in the compound's living area, in her casual attire and with a book in hand. Her outward facade was calm and collected, nothing would give away that she'd been internally freaking out at the prospect of seeing you again. It'd been months since she'd been by Shield's headquarters, she hadn't found the time even though she missed you terribly, and it appears fate was on her side for once because you're currently on your way.

During her busy months you'd apparently been nothing more than impressive, climbing even more ranks, and reaching the point where Fury felt you'd be a much better fit for the Avengers. Someone to help make up for the consistent absence of one Mr. Hawkeye, and seeing as how you'd been trained in many areas you brought a skillset beyond Natasha's combat.

When Natasha was falling asleep last night she got an unusual text from you., "Red or White?," she'd rubbed away the tiredness instantly for a chance to talk to you, and talk she did as you answered the phone without any hesitation., "I'm never opposed to a good glass of rosé detka, but I'd need to know the occasion.," and when she heard you practically scream out why her body shook with equivalent excitement.

“Welcome to my compound Agent Y/L/N.,” Natasha heard Tony’s uninterested voice as he guided you down the hallway, her face fell at the notion that one could be so displeased to be with you so she cut him off in the hallway., “Yeah, welcome.,” she smirked when you dropped your bag and catapulted into her., “Natty—I missed you so freaking much!”

Too focused on embracing one another the two of you failed to see the entirety of the team now in the hall, and their varying faces of shock., “Did this tiny human not lose any limbs?!,” Thor boomed, though he meant to whisper.

Natasha narrowed her eyes at the men in the hall, her hand holding you close, preventing you from witnessing her looming glare, and you held no complaints with being in her arms. It worked too because all of them swiftly left besides your tour guide., “I’ll continue the tour Stark, I’m sure your precious lab needs you.”

“Natty…,” you giggled after the man too left in a hurry, and her heart beamed, she’d missed that sound so much that it physically hurt., “Why are you being so mean, hm?”

“Detka—trust me.,” she smirked at you as she went to throw your bag over her shoulder, then in a flash she was reaching out for your hand., “They need to be kept in line, be too nice to them and they’ll never leave you alone again.”

“They seem very nice Natty.,” she shrugged., “Maybe, but we both know I’m nicer.,” her eyes were full of tease, just begging for you to bite back., “To look at maybe.,” she gasped at your backhanded compliment, then she shook her head when you ran ahead of her to avoid any reprimanding., “Detka! Where are you going?”

“Not sure, how about you come and find me?,” the woman chuckled., “Game on!,” she set off at a slow pace, giving you a hell of a head start, but it was all in vain because the moment that she rounded the corner you pounced on her back and settled right down., “You little shit.,” you yawned dramatically against her shoulder., “Onward my trusty steed.,” for emphasis you even slapped her ass and she was stunned, and eternally grateful you didn’t see her blushing.

Natasha groaned., “You’re lucky you’re cute.,”her arms hooked under your thighs, and she began to carry you off to the elevators., “Don’t worry Natty—you’ll always be my number one.”

The tired reassurance made her eyes water, the fact that she was your favorite person always came at a surprise to the woman, and she never would take it for granted., “Good, because I don’t like to share. You were mine first detka.,” your heart skipped at her soft possession of you, an all too overwhelming feeling of hope filled your chest at the idea of one day being hers in totality., “All yours Tasha.,” and for a moment she allows herself to believe it too.

——

"Psst... Natasha.," the woman turned her head to acknowledge Wanda, but she said nothing., "Either you ask her out, or I will.," the witch was honestly tired of watching you two avoid the elephant in every room—your chemistry. No one else on the team, not even Clint could make the redhead laugh like you do, or better yet no one's allowed to call her out of her name besides the two of you, the one time Tony had mimicked your 'Natty,' was the day the man almost lost his ability to walk for good.

"Wanda.," she sighed heavily, her eyes once again finding you as you animatedly told her sister a story with your hands, and when she saw Yelena laugh—genuinely, she fell harder., "I can't possibly do that.," still, she denied her feelings as if it were her day job, because you were the sun, and she would be your eclipse.

"You two are good together Natasha, stop running because time doesn't stop, and in this line of work of ours it's even more precious.," the witch gets to her feet, shifting on the balls of them to face the redhead., "You're not the darkness you like to think you are Nat, you're kind, but more importantly you're deserving."

"Love—it's not something that judges, it's ever understanding, and it's unmistakably warm.," she smiles softly down at the elder woman., "All that you two are is warm when you're together, we all see it, the way she shines that much brighter just because you enter the room. It's truly a shame you haven't already seen it.," and with a firm squeeze to her shoulders she's telling the ex-assassin to get it together.

Natasha watches you filter the room, and her heart stills when a smile only graces your face when your eyes finally find her own., "Fuck.," the words a whisper as she feels the warmth spread, and when you begin to make your way over to her she decides to meet you halfway., "Drinks?," you smile widely., "Snacks?!," she nods and you race out of the room cheerily.

Wanda smirks in triumph at the woman who's jade eyes sparkled while watching you retreat, the love she held for you was abundantly clear. Natasha rolls her eyes at her, then takes her leave in search of the finest wine in the cellar. Finding you sat on her bed surrounded by bags of trash she shakes her head amusedly, then she settles besides you to gaze at the screen.

"Princess and the Frog or," you shift to face her to better express your excitement., "Tangled.," she hums thoughtfully, then shrugs., "Both?," she smirks as your body shakes., "All nighter?"

Natasha nods, then swiftly settled her glass down just in time to catch you in a hug. She'd suffer through a dinner cooked by Tony himself if it would be enough to make you this happy. So sitting through an array of Disney princess films was nothing, especially when she knew you'd not even last through one of them.

After Tiana and Naveen shared their true loves kiss Natasha found herself wiping away at a few tears before instinctually staring down at you. She was more than grateful that you weren’t awake to see her cry, because she knew you’d only make her cry harder with your never ending well of kindness and warmth. A chuckle flew passed her lips when realizing she cried over a Disney film, she just knew Yelena would call her a sap, but there was just something about their journey through adversity ending in such majestical ways. It filled her with hope.

“Goodnight detka.,” she whispered while shifting her body down to face yours. She slipped the remote from your hand, putting an end to the movie ‘marathon,’ then after settling it down behind you her fingers, as light as a feather, traced over the outline of your face in a moment of pure admiration. After tracing the entirety of your face she settled a soft kiss to your nose, then with an arm over your waist she pulled you in close., “YA tebya lyublyu.”

One day she resolves, she’ll say it aloud, to your face and in a language you’ll understand. Then, in true fairytale fashion you’ll say it back, and the two of you will run off into the sunset…

•—•~~~•—•~~~~~•~~~~~•—•~~~•—•

...just blips in time that would prove to never be enough now that she's facing your body. Because not even a week after Wanda reminds her of how fleeting time can be she's seeing just how true that is as it unfolds before her eyes.

Natasha releases a shaky breath, but before she could even monologue to your unconscious form she freezes. Every machine in your room begins to go haywire, the gravity of the truth not lost on her as people rush into the room., "No...," she shrugs the person off, and pushes through the doctors to get to you., "No, do you hear me Y/N?! You don't get to die!," she fails to contain her sobs., "Not before I get to love you like I always should've.," her fist slams into your chest for emphasis, and in a flash your body jolts off the lumpy mattress with a gasp.

Everyone in the room freezes, a nurse resettles her paddles onto the machine, and after an awkward moment of silence the medical team slowly filter out of the room when you appear fine, some even scratching their heads as they ponder how she'd just loved you back to life...

"Water.," you croak out the request, and the redhead is quick to adhere to it., "Thanks Nat."

The redhead smiled down at you, her hand hovering over your face, and you shiver at the warmth she radiates to your unusually cold body., "You scared me Y/N.," her tone was heartbreakingly low, something you'd never heard before with the usually stoic redhead., "I'm not equipped to live without you Y/N/N, I've done it before, but I couldn't do it now."

For a moment you just stare up at her blankly, this was feeling like a dream, and now you are left to wonder if this was heaven because why is she all of a sudden confessing this to you. Then within a blink you start to remember the mission, everything you endured, how it felt, and that final nth hour moment where you confessed your undying love for a colleague.

"Nat, I-I'm so—.," she cut you off with a finger to your lips, she watched your eyes as you had your little epiphany, and she didn't want to hear a single apology., "Shh, detka please, there isn't a need to apologize here, not for anything. Do I make myself clear?," you squeaked out a muffled yes, and the redhead smiled., "Good."

"I love you too Y/N, and not in the you're my very best friend way, because not only would Clint be offended, but that just isn't the case.," she pulled her finger from your lip using it to turn your head to face her as she sat down., "I'm completely, head over heels in love with you Y/N, and this has been a long time coming. You've been in my life for five years now, and I have never known anyone as pure as you."

There was a sadness in her tone as she spoke that made your weakened heart tremble., "Natty...," she smiled at you with teary eyes., "Never in my life did I expect to find myself in this situation.," her hand tenderly laced with yours., "I thought I'd be alone forever, and I was comfortable with it because quite frankly I felt undeserving of love, and hey, maybe I still am, but..."

"No, you're not!," you immediately cut her off with an angry pout that she met with a smirk., "Either way I'm ready to be selfish with you, because I feel like—not to sound generic, but life's too short to not try to spend every waking second of it happy, and with you I know that's where I'll find it all Y/N; you hold my heart."

"I'd let you hold mine but it seems damaged.," she frowned at you., "I'll take you in anyway I can have you Y/N/N, you're perfect to me.," you smiled through the pain at her words., "You've always been perfect to me Natasha.," her lips gently brushed over your knuckles in a show of appreciative affection, so you unfurled your fingers from hers to cup her cheek, and she melted into your touch as grateful tears trailed down her flushed cheeks., "Perfect."

Natasha gently placed your hand back on the bed where she reclaimed her hold on it, then she began to run her free one through your hair while admiring you entirely., "Natty?," she hummed while her free hand softly continued to run through your tangled hair., "Kiss me?"

The redhead stood up, barricading your body in with a hand on either side of you then she leaned down until her face hovered above yours. She watched as your lips pursed up in anticipation, and her eyes slowly took in all of your features up close in obvious admiration. The crinkles of your eyes as you held the pout, every beauty mark that adorned your skin, and she even appreciated the marks of a mission lost, because they reminded her that life is a unending battle, and that this time you won it.

She gently lowered her face even more, placing a tender kiss to your forehead, she chuckled against your skin when you whined petulantly., "Na-.," she ever so softly pecked your lips to hush you, but she applied hardly any pressure., "Detka, when I kiss you, like when I truly kiss you I want it to be special.," she pulled back to gaze into your eyes., "Can you be patient?"

Natasha watched in amusement as you were obviously considering it, then she smiled when you decidedly nodded., "Thank you detka.," she saw your brows furrow so she leaned in to whisper in your ear., "It means baby...," she finally translated it for you, and you gasped., "All this time?," she nodded, and wiped away the sudden emergence of your tears.

"I knew since day one that you'd be special.," she winked at you, then when you went to reply it was cut off by a yawn., "Get some rest love.," you went to protest but she shook her head., "It's not up for debate Agent, close your eyes."

Natasha turned down your pleading as you were desperate for her cuddles, she wasn't interested in injuring you further, but she promised you that no matter what she'd be there when you awoke. The conviction in her eyes was what convinced you it would be safe to fall asleep, and shortly after you did Clint arrived with dinner and a cot for his friend.

He shot her a knowing smirk as he saw your conjoined hands and she raised a brow at him., "Careful now Barton, I have a few trick arrows of my own.," he rolled his eyes but dropped the tease as well as the takeout. He placed a kiss to the both of your foreheads, then slipped back out so quickly it was as if he never even came. Natasha scarfed down the food, then she set her bed up next to yours, falling asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, and with her hand firmly splayed out over your chest to feel the rhythmic beat of your heart beneath her hand.

“Wait!,” Natasha shot up at the sudden sound of your voice after the previous hour of silence., “My kitties? They must be so lonely.,” Natasha snorted tiredly, “Detka, they’re with Liho and Fanny, Lena’s got them—all five of them.,” she tiredly placed a kiss to your cheek before she was resettling into her cot., “Now sleep…”

“Goodnight lovebug…,” you quietly slurred, sleep having already began reclaiming you, and Nat stared at you dumbfounded., “Lovebug?,” after a silent minute of contemplation she was smiling at the nickname., “Goodnight detka.,” and with her hand over your heart she slipped back off to sleep easily.

————

5,836 Words

🥰Kaitlyn🥹

[hikarry]

I'm studying the Charlemagne Empire in college atm and, boy, am I brewing some Ineffable Husbands scenarios

Imagine Aziraphale as a bishop and Crowley as a Count or even a Countess

"Crowley? Apologies for the intrusion but your maid let me in and told me you were here." Aziraphale opens the door to the dinner hall. He is met with Crowley, indeed, but also her husband and a handful of maids, serving lunch. "Oh, apologies."

"Bishop Aziraphale!" Count Attaway gets up from his chair quickly and bows slightly, walking towards the angel. "How may we assist you? I mean," He shakes his hands quite nervously. "It's a pleasure to have you here, of course."

Aziraphale smiles and waves his hand in a silent request for the man to calm down.

"Everything is alright, Count Attaway. I actually came because-"

"I needed to confess." Crowley smiles gently, completely ignoring her husband that now stared at her, to instead pin down Aziraphale. She got up, pushing past the Count and walking up to Aziraphale, bowing quickly. Aziraphale opened his mouth to talk, but Crowley looked down at him. "Shall we?"

"-Of course."

They both leave the Count and the dinner hall behind. Crowley was walking quickly on her high heels, careful not to step on her dress. It was a ordeal for Aziraphale to be able to keep up with her, to be honest. Maybe he should cut on the pork? Or maybe he should have worn something lighter?

Following her through the known corridors, they finally got to the Countess chambers. Crowley opens the door and hurries inside.

"Move, move, move, move!" She holds him by the forearm and pulls him inside, closing the door behind him and leaning her back against it.

"You're certainly in a hurry."

"Observant." She distracts herself by pulling hairpins from her hair, long curly ginger locks falling from the complicated updo they were in before. "Is this the moment I kneel in front of you, oh my mighty bishop?" Aziraphale gasped. Crowley snorted, pushing her finally loose hair to her back. "What? Wouldn't be the first kneeling in front of you, would I?"

"No. Not at all." Aziraphale tries to look everywhere but at her. "But you make it sound-"

"Dirty?" She starts walking towards him, and Aziraphale starts walking backwards. "Sinful?" They keep going, more into the bedroom. "Tempting?" Aziraphale's hips bump against a desk and Crowley traps him with her arms in each side of his body against said desk. She lifted an eyebrow, waiting for an answer, that trutfully never came. Not that she had given him enough time to process. Before he noticed, she was already a few steps away, taking off her shoes. "I'm dying to change into male again. These shoes are way too uncomfortable and the dresses are way too warm for this weather. Why must men always get the better wardrobe? Sure, women's are prettier, but it's not worth it at all. Have you tried to ride a horse while we-"

"My dear." Crowley stops rambling and looks up at the angel. "You had something to tell me?"

She crossed her arms over her chest, visibly biting the inside of her cheek,

"Yeah, so. I've been pretending to be sick for like three months now and I'll soon kick the hellish bucket."

"You what?"

"I'm gonna die. Pass away. One foot in the grave. Yes? Keep up, angel."

"I am listening, I just don't know why do you need to do this so suddenly."

"My assignment is over and I got a new one. I need to get close to Charlemagne. Nudge him to the dark side. Help him build the empire."

"Oh...So, you're going back to the capital?"

"Yup. I plan to be dead by tomorrow and as soon as that's over and done with I'm out of this place."

Aziraphale changed his weight from a foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable.

"Hum. Right. Why did you feel the need to inform me?"

"Because!" She takes a few steps to close the distance between them. "We could work together, angel. You know, lend a hand when needed? I might need you for this assignment and-"

"I am not helping you gaining a soul to Hell, Crowley!" He pushed her gently away, opening a passage so he could put distance between them once again. "Out of the question!"

"Aziraphale. Angel. You're not listening-"

"There's nothing to listen to! I'm not helping you. Ever! Its outrageous you even consider I would ever say yes to some...some nonesense like that! Ah! An angel? Helping a demon?" He ran his hands down his face. "It just doesn't happen. Can happen. Will never happen." He fixed his colar, speaking fast. "Yes. It was nice seeing you, but I'm going back to the monastery. I actually have serious work to do."

"Angel-"

"Good day, my lady."

The angel leaves the chambers, closing the door strongly behind him. Crowley takes a few deep breathes, trying to control the poison that was starting to run through her veins. She ran her hands down her long hair and closed her eyes for a moment. If Aziraphale didn't want to help, he wouldn't help. Maybe it was better this way. Perhaps a few more centuries away from each other would make her start disliking Aziraphale, like a good little demon should. The good little demon she would certainly never be.

[oftenwantedafton]

the wraith | dave miller x female reader

rating | explicit

part 3/?

words | 4.8k

cw | sexual content

ao3 link

Dave Miller stands beneath the boughs of wisteria and exhales into the summer evening air.

He hates the scent of the flowers; too perfumed, too sweet, cloying, their numbers now overwhelming from neglect. But still he endures the unwelcome fragrance, sending another plum of smoke outward, his lips curving slightly at one corner when he sees your car pulling into the driveway.

You cross the street to see him as you always do, come right from work this time, in a long button front dress with a tiny floral print. Your car keys jingle as you walk, dangling loosely from the ring hooked over a pair of fingers.

“Hi,” you greet him.

“How was work?”

“It was good.” You fidget with the keys in your hand. “You’re leaving late again?”

“Am I?” He smirks and he sees the color heighten in your cheeks. He thinks of what it would be like to sit his palm against that v of naked skin just below your throat, dragging straight down, down, down, until each threaded plastic disc surrenders, revealing what’s beneath, one layer closer to what he wants. The end of the cigarette flares hotly and his pupils dilate, the dark center flooding, thinning the pale steel irises to narrow rings.

“How are the bites?”

“The…oh. Yeah, alright. I’m trying not to scratch.”

You shift your weight, heels sinking into the earth. The porch light across the street flares to life and Dave chuckles softly. “Your guardian angel is worried about you.”

You turn and look behind you, then face the security guard again. “She’s not my guardian angel.”

“No?” He raises a hand to wave and you flush an even deeper shade of red, reaching and tugging on his arm.

“Don’t do that.”

“Why not? Didn’t you want us to be friendly? Mend fences and all that?” He lets his arm drop. Your fingers still linger on his sleeve.

“You don’t really want to be friends with her. It’s…I don’t know, it’s cruel.”

“Hmmm.” A cloud of smoke punctuates this statement before he drops the cigarette to the nearby paving stone and grinds it out. Old habits die hard. “Are we friends, do you think?”

“I…yes, I think we are becoming friends.”

One eyebrow lifts, shifting the messy spill of dark hair. “Becoming? What else is required?”

“I don’t know, Dave. I don’t really know you that well yet.”

“But you’d like to, wouldn’t you?” He moves his arm and his fingers touch yours. He hears the little gasp of air, so pretty, making him think maybe the secrets of the restaurant could manage to keep a little longer without his presence, surely.

You nod, the gesture so slight it could have been missed. But Dave doesn’t miss details. Especially not yours. His fingers curl around your hand.

“Come with me for a moment. Wouldn’t want to give your landlord a heart attack.”

“Dave!”

He tugs and you stumble, the heels working against you. The older man steadies you and then turns around, following the path to the backyard. The cluster of crickets that have been serenading in the background immediately silence as both figures draw nearer to their encampment. You’re right behind him, practically crashing into him when he stops abruptly, grabbing your upper arms and pushing you against the side of the house.

He rests a hand against that coveted spot he’d spied earlier: that warm, slightly damp patch of bare skin teased above the neckline of your dress. He can feel your pulse beneath the skin, throbbing along his fingertips. Now that he’s free of the wisteria, he can smell your fragrance: soap, shampoo, even the makeup that’s scented. Soft, light, but more intoxicating than those bothersome flowers nearby could ever be. His head dips down and your face bravely lifts and it takes very little to join your mouths.

Dave knows he must taste like ash, the cigarette overpowering toothpaste and mouthwash from his earlier routine while he’d been getting ready for work, but you are clean, pure, like drinking fresh air, cold water on the hottest summer day. He’s surprised when you don’t seem to mind the flavor on his tongue, one hand reaching around the back of his neck, burying in his hair. His unoccupied hand presses against the vinyl siding, the plastic substance still warm from prolonged exposure to the afternoon sun.

He leans into you, focusing on the feel of your lips, the wet slide that drags across the gap between his teeth, inadvertent, perhaps, and though he’s done it himself thousands of times, to have you there, inside that hollow, ignites him. He hears how rough his breathing is, raggedly gasped between your mouths. Tattered and weak, the cigarettes already taking their toll. He should stop, really, before the damage becomes too great; before it steals away what time he has left, for the research, the work, just a few steps past that door to his right, through the locked basement door and down a flight of backless stairs into that place full of secrets.

“Dave. Dave.” You have to repeat the name twice before he responds to that alias, realizing his fingers resting on your body have slid not down but up, nearly bringing you into a chokehold, had he been applying more pressure. He immediately releases you, moving back, limbs trembling.

“Are you alright?” There is none of the cocky teasing and flirting left in his manner now. He looks worried, a little dazed and lost. He’d lost control, for a moment there. He’d lost himself.

You nod. Your chest rises and falls rapidly. Passion. Fear. A mixture of the two, perhaps.

“I have to go to work,” he says, raking a hand through his hair, trying to steady himself. It’s not at all what he wants to do. He wants to pull you inside the house and continue what has just started.

“Okay.”

He continues to stare at you, wondering, exactly, where to leave this. If he should just walk away.

You solve the problem for him, stepping closer and adjusting his tie, then reaching up to try to organize the tresses he’s just mussed.

“It’s a lost cause,” he says ruefully, and you smile softly. That gesture is more valuable than you’ll ever know. You were still interested. Still lingering. Touching.

“You have such nice hair,” you murmur.

“Do I? I hadn’t noticed.” His fingers are itching to touch you again. Instead he settles for another kiss, this one just a brief brush across your lips. “I really do have to leave now,” he says reluctantly.

“I know.”

You walk beside him beneath the pergola, following him all the way to his car.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Dave.” He unlocks the door and settles behind the wheel as you walk back across the street. Normally he listens to music, but tonight he doesn’t think he’s going to. He ignores the case of cassette tapes on the passenger seat and pulls out of the driveway, halting when he sees you at the curb, waving for him to stop. He leans over and rolls the passenger side window down.

You bend and rest a hand on the frame, leaning in slightly. “Have dinner with me tomorrow.”

“You know who would have the police called the second I set foot in the yard.”

“She’s got bingo. She’ll be gone for a few hours.”

“You do realize how silly this is, right? Sneaking around because you don’t want your landlord to know you have a guest.”

“I can do what I want,” you say defensively.

Dave grunts, shaking his head, running a hand over the molded grips on the steering wheel. “What time?”

“You’ll really come?”

He sighs, the sound exaggerated. “I suppose I could.”

You grin and it stirs something in him. Happy. You were happy about the prospect of spending time with him. He can’t remember the last time someone felt that way.

“She leaves around five. Something about the parking lot getting too crowded, tables filling up, has to get there early, I don’t know. She was back around nine last time.”

“Alright. I’ll see you around five, then.”

“Have a good shift.”

The security guard nods and you step back. He makes it to the first stop sign on his route and then glances over at the row of cassettes beside him, reconsidering. Maybe he’s in the mood for some tunes after all.

***

You can’t sleep.

It would be easy enough to blame the weather, but if you’re being honest, that’s really only a small portion of why you’re so restless and uncomfortable.

You can still taste Dave Miller.

You’re not going to say you enjoy the taste of cigarettes, because you definitely don’t, but somehow you could ignore it, because it had been him kissing you, this guy you’ve had a crush on since you’d first moved here. Touching you. Pushing you up against the side of the house, leaning into you. And okay, maybe he’d been getting a little rough there at the end of the kiss, you’ve never done any sort of breathplay before, but it had been kind of exciting, hadn’t it? Holding your life in one of his warm, big hands. Fuck.

You’d always thought yourself pretty vanilla, but maybe your neighbor isn’t. Maybe he’s got some kinky bondage setup in the basement and that’s why he’s got it locked up. How the hell are you going to get any housework done when he’s there beside you? Maybe that was part of it for him. Maybe you should get a French maid outfit, really play it up.

You glance towards the window that faces Dave’s house. You wonder what he’s doing right now, at his job. Pacing that creepy restaurant, flashlight in hand. Seated in an office, leaning back in a swivel chair, long legs stretched out, heels on the edge of a desk, ankles crossed. Yeah, you can definitely picture that.

He’d said you could visit him at work.

You don’t even know where Freddy’s is, but it couldn’t be that hard to find out. Chances are there would be ample opportunity for more time together, if you could get over being unnerved by the place.

The warning of the resident downstairs buzzes in your ear, but you mentally swat it away easily, drowning it beneath memories of that kiss in the backyard.

And now he was coming over to your apartment. For dinner. For dinner. Sure. The guy who barely eats suddenly wants food.

You’re going to need to go shopping. You want to make something nice. You’re no fancy chef but you can manage the basics. Every guy likes a good steak, right? Baked potatoes. Some more beer. Maybe something chocolate for dessert. Premade. You’re not going to go to quite that much effort yet.

You turn on your side, considering what you should wear. He’d liked the dress, you could tell. You really only wore them for work, but you’ve got a sundress that’s a little more casual. And you won’t have to deal with those stupid heels.

Dave Miller sitting at your kitchen table. You’re trying to envision it. Was he going to want to smoke? You really don’t want him to. Not indoors. Outside, maybe. Or he could just wait until he got back home. Surely that wasn’t too taxing. So. Dave Miller. Sitting at your table with those legs stretched out again. Those narrow hips.

You groan softly, shifting onto your back. Would he kiss you hello? Hover behind you while you’re cooking, resting a hand on your lower spine, letting it ease down over the curves of your buttocks, perhaps? Pressing his body against you. Lips touching your hair.

You’re watching too much of that trashy daytime television with the old lady. That has to be it. You’ve never been like this before.

After dinner. Dessert. Licking stray bits of icing from your fingers. Your lips. Elsewhere. Don’t think about that tongue elsewhere, don’t do it.

Too late. Your hand has already found its way beneath the waistband of your panties. You’re only wearing those and a cami. Easy access. Wet. Very wet. Leftover from earlier. How many hours has it been? So slick. Your fingers glide back and forth, teasing your clit. You’re picturing his face between your thighs. Looking at you with those eyes, those strange light and dark spheres. Hair falling across his forehead. Smirking. Because he knows. He knows.

You bend your knees, dragging your heels across the mattress, letting your legs fall open as your finger works faster. You’re teetering on the brink already. You’d been so worked up. He’s barely begun and you’re already so far gone. Over the edge. Those eyes, those eyes. Warm breath and wet tongue. That crooked, chipped tooth smile. Gone. Your pelvis lifts and you gasp, instantly biting your bottom lip to stifle the sounds of pleasure that threaten to break free. A rush heat sizzles along your spine. Your finger is clumsy now, sliding off to the side, pushing in sloppy circles, your hips still rising and falling to meet a partner that’s only there in your mind.

Dave.

You relax your knees and let your legs drop, panting softly. A few last teasing rolls against the bone before your nub demands a break and you slip your hand back out of your panties. They’re soaked. You’re sweating.

Dave. I want you.

The thought finally carries you into sleep.

***

You’re supposed to be working a full day shift, but you need time to get ready for your impromptu date—yes, that’s what you’re calling it—and luckily your office is well staffed and your perfect attendance thus far makes your manager gracious enough to allow you to make it a half shift instead. You’re practically sprinting to the door after you’ve finished filling out your time card, following the winding hallways of the hospital until you reach the front entrance, bypassing the revolving door that’s far too slow for your liking and using the handicapped access one instead. If the nearby guard disapproves of this choice you don’t see it, because you’re already heading across the street to the parking garage. You’ve got a shopping list scribbled on a piece of scrap paper you’d filled out during your morning break tucked into your purse. You exit a little faster than the posted limit, your tires squeaking embarrassingly before you’re finally free, heading to the grocery store.

Thankfully the store is not overly busy midday and you’re able to get your shopping done fairly swiftly. There’s a fluttery feeling in your stomach when you return home and see the caramel colored sedan parked across the street. Of course Dave is there, hopefully getting some rest. You unpack the trunk and head upstairs, calling a hasty greeting to your landlord who’s doing some weeding. She frowns at you and you feel guilty instantly. You’ve got that sense that she’s disappointed, even though she has no way of knowing about the kiss you’d shared with the neighbor across the street, about how you’d invited the older man to dinner, just one floor above where she did her crocheting and watched her soap operas.

But it’s all foolish, because she doesn’t know Dave, even though she thinks she does. Not as well as you do, which, while maybe still isn’t very well, deserves a little more recognition and acknowledgement just the same. You put the perishable items in the refrigerator and restock the pantry and then head into the shower for the second time that day. You make sure your legs are silky smooth and your peri area is neatly trimmed. You’ve got a brand new bottle of body wash you’ve been saving and your crack that open now, lathering with a cucumber melon scent. After you’ve finished washing you spend some time applying makeup and fixing your hair, turning sideways to check to see how the lingerie you’re wearing looks from another angle. Pale violet, lace. Not the most comfortable thing to wear, but yeah, it looks nice. Plunge front strapless bra and bikini cut panties. Not that Dave would necessarily be seeing them. You suppose you’re making an assumption here. But if things kept going the way they had the other night…

Now the dress. A light aqua color. You really love that shade. Not so different from that coffee mug in Dave’s sink that you’d washed. Everything really reminded you of him now.

You glance at the clock. Still plenty of time. You’re not cooking until your guest arrives, so there’s nothing to do now but wait.

You have a feeling the time is going to drag.

***

You fill the watering can, being careful not to press up against anything and get dirty, watching your landlord exit her house. She’s dressed up once again, her eyes sharply taking in your appearance as she walks down the front steps.

“You’re dressed up all fancy. Are you coming along finally?”

“No, not really.” You brush at the dress absently, turning the faucet off and lifting the plastic garden tool, a little water sloshing over the opening. “And no, I’m staying home.”

You keep telling yourself you’re not going to look across the street for any signs of Dave, and of course, the more you do, the harder it is not to look. The back of your neck is on fire. You begin watering the first flower box, hoping the woman’s ride gets there soon.

“You should go out. You’re too young to be cooped up inside. Especially at this time of year. And I don’t mean spending time with him,” she says, and you finally surrender, your eyes lifting to see Dave standing beneath the pergola, his hands tucked into his pockets. He’s wearing khaki pants and a long sleeve button front shirt and your stomach flutters again.

Mercifully your landlord’s friend appears at that moment, saving you from having to respond. You watch the car pull away, your peripheral vision making you aware that the older man has begun crossing the street. You suddenly feel shy, continuing to water, until Dave pulls the watering can from your fingers, dipping to set it down before filling your now empty fingers with his own. You can smell cologne, aftershave, and…that’s it. No cigarettes.

You find the courage to look at him, at those sharp, newly shaved cheeks and jaw and the hair that is actually tidy for once, perhaps tamed with some sort of gel. He smiles at you and it pulls something inside of you, warm and fast, jerking and twisting.

“Hi,” he says softly, and that one word has you weak at the knees. What is it, this spell he casts over you every time, that has you following him into your own apartment when it should be you leading him up those stairs and inside?

You shut the door and then you’re pressed against it, your hands immediately twined behind his neck, his mouth on yours. No ash today, only mint, sweet and brisk as your tongue crashes against his and you whimper because God, you’ve been waiting for this all day, last night, ever since you’d parted and been left wanting more.

He’s smiling against your lips, pleased, amused, humming contentedly. He kisses your cheek and jaw and the side of your throat and another sound escapes you. Needy. Hungry.

“Miss me, did you?” He murmurs, taking a little nibble of your earlobe.

“Yes.” You’re not even ashamed to admit it, letting your polished nails rake down his shirt front. “Did you miss me?”

“What do you think?” His lips tap your throat and then he draws back, the crooked grin back on his face. “How was your day?”

“It was fine. Busy.”

“I’m putting you out.”

“I invited you, remember?”

“Yes, you did.” He turns to survey the interior of the room he’s in. “Larger than I’d imagine it’d be inside, honestly.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty decent.” You wipe around your lips, wondering how much your gloss has smudged.

He turns back to you. “What’s on the menu?”

“Steak. Baked potatoes. Chocolate cake for dessert. I’ll be honest, I didn’t make the cake. I got beer, too.”

“That sounds perfect. Need a hand?”

“Maybe.” You pause, studying the tall figure in front of you. “You can roll your sleeves up, you know. I know it can get a little stuffy in here, especially at this time of day. And once the oven is on…”

Wordlessly Dave unfastens each button holding his sleeves closed, briskly rolling the light blue material back, granting you your first proper look at the scars he’d mentioned the other night.

You’re not really sure what you’d been expecting. Maybe something rougher. These marks were more organized. Patterned. Rings and dots and lines. Repeating over and over, as far as you can tell. Perfectly mirrored on both sides.

Dave seems to be waiting for you to react. You step forward, gently running your fingertips along the pink marks. “I don’t mind them,” you say, reminding him of your earlier promise.

“I guess you don’t.” You lift one arm and kiss the inside of his wrist, rewarded with a little huff of breath. Sensitive, maybe.

“Let’s get dinner started.”

You’re slowly recovering from the initial senseless bliss of the older man’s presence, retrieving the items to make supper, turning on the stove, the seasoned grill plate set neatly across the front and back burners along one side. You wash your hands and Dave follows your example. There isn’t really a lot to do, but it’s still kind of nice having your first visitor in this living space, working beside you. You grab a couple of beers out of the fridge and pop the caps, handing one to your guest. Every few moments your activities are halted by a touch, a kiss, as if neither of you can quite believe that this is really happening. Meat seasoned, kiss. Potatoes washed, back rubbed. Sip of beer. Another kiss.

Dave looks good seated in your kitchen, you decide, staring at him from across the table with the meal you’ve prepared spread before you. The way the fading sunlight filtering in through the windows touches so much of his skin, finally exposed. The shadows beneath his eyes fainter today. He’s got a bit of a flush from the alchohol and that’s flattering, too. You’d been a little worried that he wouldn’t eat much, surprising you when he clears his plate. Joining him at the sink after he volunteers to wash the dishes and help clean up the kitchen.

“What do you do in that house, Dave?” You’re seated beside him on the living room couch, a fresh pair of beers seated in each person’s hand. “What do you enjoy doing with your free time?”

“I like music.”

“What kind of music?”

“Older music. Eighties rock and pop. The best decade.”

“Yeah. Being a kid in the eighties was great. And you’ve got that piano but you don’t play. That’s too bad. I’m probably pretty rusty. I stopped taking lessons once I had driver’s ed and a part time job on top of school. My parents were the ones that signed me up, and I kind of resented it, but now I realize what a gift it was. I should have stuck with it.”

“I didn’t know you played. Of course you’re more than welcome to use mine. It’s not tuned, of course, but…”

“I’ll give it a try, the next time I come over. What else?”

He takes a sip and sighs contemplatively. “Reading. I’ve always been a bookworm.”

“What genre?”

“A variety. A lot of science fiction and fantasy. Poetry.”

“Poetry? Really? Who’s your favorite author?”

“T.S. Eliot. The Hollow Men is…there aren’t words.” He takes another swallow. “Exquisite. Haunting. I don’t know. I’m not a writer. But it’s powerful.”

“You have plenty of bookshelves in that living room, but they’re empty.”

Dave nods. “One of many things on my to do list. Boxes to unpack.”

“I could work on that on Saturday.”

“We could.”

“You should be sleeping.” You shove playfully at his arm. “But okay. We’ll do it together.”

“You like videogames?”

“Yes.”

“That’s something else I enjoy. Though I’m more patrial to the retro stuff.”

“You really loved the eighties, huh?”

“Some of it was good, yes.” His thumb runs over the condensation on the bottle. “Some of it.”

You sense there’s something more he’s not saying, but you don’t want to press him if he’s not ready to talk about his past yet. You lean forward and set your beer on the coffee table, then sink back into the cushions. “I’m really glad you came over tonight.”

Dave’s bottle joins yours on the table. “Me too.” He rests an arm along the back of the couch, his other hand sweeping across your cheek.

“Did you really not smoke today just because of me?”

“I didn’t think you’d appreciate it inside your place.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Not more than I enjoy this.” He leans towards you and captures your lips.

“I was thinking of coming to visit you at work. If that offer still stands.”

He blinks, looking surprised. “It does. What made you change your mind?”

You shrug, offering a shy smile. “You.”

“Me, huh?” Another kiss.

“I actually need directions. I have no idea where to go.”

“It’s not difficult. I’ll write them down for you.”

“I hope I’ll be able to read it. Your handwriting is atrocious. Kidding! I’m just joking!” You try to block the sudden attack of fingers seeking out all your ticklish spots, diving against your ribs, your knees reflexively jerking up to try to block, pushing ineffectually at the older man as you dissolve into giggles.

It’s no use. He’s got you pinned down now, scrabbling back along the length of the couch, his body hovering over yours. The laughter dies down, leaving heat behind. Warm from the alcohol, from the summer air, from Dave bending to crush your mouth with his.

***

You’re seated at the kitchen table again awhile later, dress a little more rumpled than before, hair mussed, mascara almost certainly smudged, but you don’t care, because you’ve got Dave in front of you, pushing his fork through layers of cake and icing and taking a healthy swallow of milk to wash it down.

He looks as disheveled as you, hair stubbornly falling forward, top buttons of shirt undone, exposing more scars and the edges of each collarbone. You hadn’t gone as far as you’d thought you’d might, but you’re not even sorry. You think maybe he’s holding back, taking his time, and it’s kind of charming in a way. Sweet. Thoughtful. You let the chocolate dessert you’ve just sampled from your own plate dissolve on your tongue, your bare foot teasing Dave’s sock clad one. It’s fully dark outside now, and there’s a slight evening breeze coming through the kitchen window to complement the air circulating from the box fan.

He doesn’t clean his plate this time, but you’re just happy to see him finally eat something. At least he’ll go to work on a full stomach. You find yourself looking at the digital clock on the stove. He’s going to need to leave soon.

“I’m sure you’re tired of hearing me say this. But I have to—”

“—I know. You have to get ready and go to work. It’s okay.”

You clear the table and walk Dave to the door, waiting for him to put his shoes back on before you embrace him. That feeling is back; this thing that connects you, an invisible tether that wrenches something deep inside. So attached. You’re so attached to him already.

He releases you and begins rolling his shirt sleeves back down. You can’t imagine anyone is going to notice on the short trip back to his house at this time of night, but it clearly makes him more comfortable, so you watch in silence.

The last button is fastened, his sleeves and shirt collar fastened once more. His hands cup your face. “Goodnight.” His mouth meets yours. It still makes your stomach somersault. Every single time.

You switch on the outdoor light and Dave exits, descending the stairs. You want to follow him. Crash back into his arms. Taste his mouth again.

You sink back onto the couch. You can smell him on the cushions. It’s driving you mad. You hear a car in the driveway a short time later signaling your landlord has returned from her latest bingo escapade and then Dave’s sedan, the distinctive rumble that recedes as he traverses the street. You lean forward to retrieve the paper he’d scrawled the directions to Freddy’s on. The cursive was as terrible as you’d predicted, but at least there weren’t many lines to read.

You frown, noticing he’s written something else beneath the street names and turns.

You’re beautiful.

Just that, except for one letter more that you think must have been a mistake. Maybe a scribble to get the ink to flow better from the pen, and not an initial, in spite of its placement.

It’s the strangest thing, because it almost looks like a W.

[thee-ratbaby]

@kirinidkbro mercy x reader request! ♡ it ended up a little hurt/comfort in the beginning, but I hope you like it ♡

Mercy - Healing Hands

Your body moved before you could really think about what you were doing; you heard the crack of a gun coming from behind and your first instinct was to run to her. Angela's side hit the ground, making her twist quickly back up to her feet, gasping your name in shock and frustration. That died when she saw the blood pooling beneath you. Before blackness overtook your vision, you saw her face, haloed in light, kneeling above you. You thought in that moment, she really did look like an angel.

It wasn't your first time in the infirmary. Far from it, in fact. It seemed like you were there every other day for some bump or bruise or cut that was, in theory, completely avoidable. Some other agents had teased you, saying you went just to see the good doctor, which you denied (although it was certainly a bonus).

Your least favorite part was the look you got every time you passed through the doors.

Mercy would smile at you first, warm and welcoming, but upon seeing you cradle your wrist or limping across the room her face would fall into something more akin to a disappointed parent and she would start in on you. "You need to be more careful." "Again? This is the third time this week and it's only Tuesday!" "I've never met anyone so clumsy".

It was particularly cutting when she made an insinuation about your affectiveness on missions. It made your stomach clench and your eyes sting. That day, you didn't stay to joke and make small talk: you took the bandage and left as quickly as you could.

This time, when you opened your eyes, the bright lights of a surgical setting blinded you. A groan wracked your lungs, nearly making you wheeze, but it was enough for Angela to realize you had regained consciousness and she bolted to your side. Sweat had plastered her hair to her forehead, and dark circles crept under her eyes. Spatters of blood decorated her coat sleeves. Your blood, you realized dimly. Turning your head, there was a surgical tray to the side, carrying instruments and a single red smeared bullet, misshapen from impact.

"What on earth were you thinking?!" Mercy all but shouted, a hand coming up to wipe her forehead. Her voice cracked and she looked frantic. "You're lucky it just hit your shoulder, but hitting your head on the stone when you fell was so much more dangerous! You could have brain damage! I need to check if you're concussed, why the hell would you-"

"We couldn't complete the mission without you," you spoke quietly. Angela reeled back in shock. "I'm... I always get hurt anyway. At least I could do something good with it, this time." She didn't seem to understand what you had said for a second, just opening and closing her mouth like a fish.

"Do some good with it... by dying?" You winced at her tone, accusatory and hurt somehow.

"I didn't die," you pointed out, "thanks to you."

Angela sighed. "Yes. Once again I save a vital member of overwatch."

You snort at that, "Someone else got shot, too?" The doctor gives you a withering look.

"Y/n," she starts. "You saved my life. You do incredible things-"

"When I'm not falling on my ass or knocking my self out." You mumble.

Mercy sits on the edge of your bed, gently taking your hands in hers.

"You haven't just saved my life, y/n. Your work has helped so many people, not just civilians but even around the base. Do you understand that? You're important to us. To me."

Your heart ached at her words. The two of you weren't strangers to flirting, but neither of you had been so bold before.

"You're important- to me, too, I mean," you managed to choke out, anxiety suddenly clogging your throat. Angela scooted towards you on the bed.

"When I saw you there, I thought- I would never be able to-" There was agony in her eyes that you'd never seen before and guilt bowed your shoulders.

"I'm sorry," you murmured as she pulled herself closer to you. You could feel her breath on your face now, and it smelt like coffee and a hint of fruit and toothpaste. "I'm so sorry. I just couldn't stand to see you get hurt. I couldn't. I would rather-"

Her lips silenced you, keeping you from speaking the word she didn't want to hear. You were here, with her, and you were both going to be ok.

She pulled away with a soft breath, burying her face in your neck where the bullet didn't hit.

"You won't ever, not on my watch." Angela left gentle kisses on your skin, making goosebumps roll across your arms. You wondered if you were dreaming still unconscious, if maybe this was the last vision before you died out there on the field.

But her hands were warm at the hem of your papery surgical gown and the flesh around her waist was soft where you put your hands, and when she shoved her white coat off you could see the flush of her face and the intense look she fixated on you.

You wouldn't mind dying here, with her.

A soft 'can i?' Leaves her lips, her fingers gently pulling the gown up and you nod vigorously. She pulls it up over your thighs, your stomach, your breasts, moving carefully over the stitches she put in your shoulder and brushing her thumb under the angry red of the wound.

"You've done so much for me," Angela whispers, pushing herself up on the bed to straddle the lower part of your thighs. "I want to thank you. Properly."

For some reason, that was what made your face heat up. She had seen your body before, had touched you before but it was always under the guise of healing, brushing her hands over a bruise or a scrape. But this? Putting her hands on you intentionally, firm pressure on your skin dragging down your chest, it made you tremble. Her skin was calloused from years of work, surgeries and battlefield medicine, paperwork and residency, but she was being so gentle.

You let out little "ah, ah" breaths, just less than moans while her fingers toyed with your nipples and massaged the soft mounds of your breasts. Angela pulled you into another kiss like she was breathing into you, filling your lungs with her air, and you drowned in her without hesitation. She moved around you cautiously, aware of the limited range of your injured arm when you reached to touch her back, shifting closer so you could reach your fingers up her shirt, undoing buttons until you touched the soft material of her bra.

"Dr. Zeigler," you gasped when she pulled back from the kiss to shrug her shirt off and reach back to unhook her bra. She laughed at that, giving a mischievous smile as her bra straps slid down her shoulders.

"I think we are a little past formalities, y/n."

You chuckle, laying your hands on her hips to look at her. She was beautiful, soft skin, smooth and pale, only a few scars marring it. You wanted to memorize it, to map it out so that you could dream about every detail, but Mercy had other plans.

She tilted her face up, one finger under your chin, and pressed another kiss to your lips.

"There is much I want to do, have been wanting to do, but not while you're in here. But-" she holds up a hand, interrupting your pout, "I can't still show some... gratitude... in other ways."

She scoots back on your legs, pulling the paper thin blanket back with her to reveal your thighs and hips.

"Just a little something," she whispers, kissing under your ear as she dragged her fingers delicately down your stomach to the wristband of your panties, playing with the elastic while you trembled. She ran the fingers of her free hand through the hair on the nape of your neck, scratching gently, and pushed her fingers down past the curls of your public hair, over your mound until they were able to tease your slick lips.

You let out a tiny gasp, and wrap your arms around her shoulders to pull her close. Angela grins against your lips.

"I'm happy to see you want this as much as I do." She teases, tracing your labia slowly, the pads of her fingers and the blunt tip of her nails making warmth fill your body. You can only respond by pulling her back into a kiss, your tongue licking softly into her mouth.

Her fingers find your clit, and your back arches into her. Mercy coos at you and pets your hair, kissing and sucking down the side of your neck while you writhe under her touch. Underneath you, the cot creaks with your movements and you're dimly aware that someone could come investigate, but then Angela moves her free hand to play with your breast, pinching and twisting your nipple in time with her stokes of your clit and all thoughts are expelled from your brain except yes, please, more, Angela

Heat coils in your stomach and you toss your head back with a gasp, letting Mercy lay you back against the wall as she continues. Her head dips lower, taking advantage of your position to suck your other nipple into her mouth, moving her fingers faster against your clit, small, quick circles making your hips jerk futility against her.

"Aaah-a-Angel-aaaa" you barely gasp out her name as you cum, breathing heavy as her fingers work you through your orgasm before slowing. Her hand not in your panties strokes your chest, your shoulders, moves you to stroke your hair, as she gently shushes you, kissing the corner of your mouth as you twitch with after shocks.

You feel her weight shift off of your lap and open your eyes- when had you closed them?- and watch her clean her fingers on her discarded white coat. It was going to be washed anyway, you guessed, your mind fuzzy and warm as she lays her head on your shoulder. You stroke her bare side to the waistband of her pants.

"I want to-" you begin, fingers playing with the button on her slacks. But she just laughs and turns your head to kiss her again.

"When you're healed," she promises between kisses, "I have so much in store for you."