#ya know its not hard as much as it is unbearable especially when you know it can be done better

[sstarlostt]

um just played the new rhythm hive update and saw lesserafilm so i choose kazuha because i was like "oh cool they are here" and didnt fucking realize till it was too late that now im stuck with kazuha as my wallpaper no matter what group im play,,, i was under the impression that rhythm hive always seperates groups thats why i didnt even think of the possibility of being stuck with a group when playing other groups,,, now im jun-less and so very upset, not to mention that i share the account with my sister and shes distraught that its not v,,,, the new gameplay is even worse than before i fucking hate this game, go back to how it was or at least just separate the groups again, i can deal with bad gameplay if my background is jun (or v)

[uptondixon]

Daryl & Daugther!Reader - Quarry Era II

Had this in my drafts for ages. I started writing and never finished, but I decided to post anyway. Thank you for all the love on Part 1! I'm sorry I'm not much of a writer to keep this storyline going :( Words: 1591 Warnings: Nightmares Gif not mine Chapter song is Fix You by Coldplay

Part I

"And the tears come streaming down your face, when you lose something you can't replace."

It's been a while since the three of them started the walk back to camp, which was proving to be especially hard for the girl. After the adrenaline went off, the pain on her feet and legs were becoming almost unbearable. With each step she got slower and felt weaker. A headache making its way over her head, probably a mix of pain, hunger and lack of sleep.

Before heading back to camp Daryl offered her water, which she accepted desperately. Even though she was happy the thirst was over, her growling stomach didn't let her forget the days without anything to eat. She didn't mention that, already thankful for the water. However, the girl's skinny body gave Daryl an idea of how hungry she must be.

Daryl and Merle didn't hunt anything, both too focused on the deer, so he made a mental note to feed her as soon as they got to camp. Daryl also tried to take a better look at her wounds, but she didn't let him. He didn't push and decided this was a job for Lori or Carol. They were the mothers of the group and the girl would feel safe with them, he thought.

"She's slowing us down man, if we don't speed up we're going to lose sunlight. This girl is like a damn walker bait. Hell, I can smell her blood from here." Merle complained again.

"I get it Merle! Stop whining alrigh?" Daryl said before approaching the kid. 

She had been trailing behind them the whole time, never sparing them a glance and looking almost ready to bolt in the opposite direction at any moment. All of a sudden, Daryl realized that they didn't know her name.

"What's yer name kid?" She looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Y/n." She said, voice almost a whisper.

"Alrigh', Y/n. Look, someone has to check yer wounds and for that we need to get to the camp but ya can barely walk…" Y/n knew he was right. She was scared to let him do anything with her wounds, afraid it would make it hurt even more. But the girl knew that it would only get worse if they didn't get there faster.

"What if I carry ya?" Daryl proposed. "We'll get to the folks faster and everything's gonna be okay." Daryl looked at her expectantly, while Merle was still mumbling some nonsense he chose to again ignore.

Y/n pounded for a moment. She didn't know this guy, even though he seemed to be making an effort to at least make her feel less scared. The same couldn't be said about the other guy, his brother. Even with Daryl's effort, she wasn't sure if trusting him was the right decision. However, it's not like she had any other choice at the moment.

Y/n looked up at Daryl and nodded her head. He handed his crossbow to Merle and picked the girl up. She felt so light and Daryl couldn't help but wonder how long she was alone out there, without food and water.

Y/n wrapped one of her arms around Daryl's neck, looking for something to hold on to. It was weird, how she didn't even know this man but felt safe in his arms. After being alone for months, she really wanted to believe someone good was going to help her.

Daryl arranged the girl in his arms and resumed their walking, Merle leading the way with Daryl's crossbow, aware of any danger.

They arrived at the camp a couple hours later and Daryl came in calling for the first person he saw, which in that case was Lori. "Daryl, oh my god??? Who is that?"

Daryl immediately felt Y/n's arms wrap harder around him. "It's fine kid, don't worry."

"We found her in the woods, alone and hurt."

Minutes later, the whole camp was reunited outside the RV while Lori and Carol were inside with Y/n. The girl felt more at ease with them, like Daryl imagined. But she was still unsure about everything and everyone.

After they treated her wounds and helped her clean up, Daryl brought some of the squirrel from his last hunt along with more food from the camp. Being clean and fed, it was like Y/n could finally think straight again.

Yours later, everyone started to retreat to their tents for the night. Inside the RV, Y/n tried to stay awake, her brain still on alert for some reason. But after a while her body started to give up and she fell asleep to the sounds of the dying conversation outside.

“It will be okay my baby, just run and don’t look back, okay?”

“But mom, what about you?”

“I’ll be right behind you, go!” The little girl ran, but she couldn't help looking back. However, when she did, it made sense why her mother told her not to.

Screams, that’s what Daryl woke up to. He jumped out of his tent and saw Shane, Glenn and Dale outside the RV. “What the hell happened?”

“It 's Y/n.” Shane said “Lori is-” As if on cue, Lori leaves the RV. And to everyone's surprise, she smiled at Daryl.

“She’s asking for you, Daryl.” Daryl looked at Lori as if she had grown another head but entered the RV anyway.

“Hey kid, what's up?” Y/n was sitting in bed, death grip on the blanket and scared look on her face.

“I miss my mom” Daryl didn't know what to say, he didn't understand why she would want him there of all people. “Could you stay here until I fall back asleep?”

To be honest, Y/n didn't want to sleep, not if that meant another nightmare, but her body didn't give her any choice. Daryl saved her, his presence made her feel safe, so maybe he could help the bad dreams go away. Daryl was still confused, but he simply sat down in the chair close to the door and nodded his head, watching as the girl laid down, closing her eyes and falling asleep once again.

The first week went by smoothly, Y/n couldn't think about anything other than sleep. Her body begging for rest in order to heal. She didn't talk much, still overwhelmed with the new environment and everything that happened, but slowly feeling more at ease with everyone. Amy was the one to bring her food the days she stayed in bed. Lori or Carol would brush her long hair after she washed up. Glenn and Dale would make her laugh with silly jokes. Andrea and Jacqui would help change her bandages. Daryl would always check on her at the end of the day. He didn't say much, only put his head inside the RV, saw her asleep and then went to his tent.

The second week was better, she was stronger and more active. However, the nightmares still hunted her at night. Since Y/n got in the camp, Carl and Sophia were anxious to talk with her. But she was weak and scared so the adults held them back. When she started feeling better, spending her days sitting in the staircase of the RV and watching the camp, Carl approached her. With everything that happened Y/n didn't really had the time to think about the other kids at camp. She knew Sophia was Carol's daugther and Carl was Lori's, but they never talked and she suddently felt nervous. It's been ages since she last talked with someone her age.

"Hi, I'm Carl. You're Y/n, right?"

"Yeah.." Y/n smiled awkwardly.

"Shane's going to teach me how to grab frogs, you wanna come too?"

Y/n apreciated the invitation but she couldn't help but ask "Why would you want to grab frogs?"

Carl seemed like he wasn't expecting the question but answered anyway "Well, it's just funny, they jump so high trying to run away" he said with a little laugh "But we release them right after, Shane says they probably taste really bad to eat."

Y/n was the one ot laugh this time, for sure she wouldn't want to eat a frog.

"Okay, it seems fun" Y/n said looking at the boy in front of her.

"Yes! It's going to be really fun, I'll tell Shane you're coming" Y/n laughed again seeing the boy excitement, she couldn't help but feel it too. After the last stressful weeks, it was good to have some distraction.

Y/n met Sophia a couple nights after her frong hunt with Carl and Shane. The camp was having dinner and since she started feeling better, she started to have dinner outside with the others. The first night she went straight to Daryl, he and Merle sitting around a fire further from the main camp. In the short time Y/n was there she could notice how they differed from the rest of the camp. Her, as well, felt unsure, not of Daryl but his brother. The first night she left the RV and went to Daryl, Merle looked at her they same way he looked at her back in the woods. Like she was an walker bait. Daryl didn't showed much affection towards her, at least not in clear eyes. But he silently made sure she was fed and safe every single day, most of the others from the camp would not notice most of the time, but he did and Y/n knew it.

Taglist: @justmare

[fuck-you-too-world]

Ya, that post... The link above... Is driving me insane!

I 100% blame it on you (no not really, but I need to be dramatic so please let me) for all those sleepless night for few days cus the bunnies won't leave me and my brain kept conjuring more twist and world building and more promt or ideas kept coming making this one small crack idea into a full blown AU!!!

I hate this Phandoms for dragging me even deeper down the rabbit hole...

No, no i didn't. It's a lie. I love you guys so much.

But all the pain and suffering this cause me until I put this together is unbearable!

I demand head Pat and hugs!!!

...

AND ICE CREAM!

UGH... So many ideas from different blog and prompt and stories...

ALL MASHED UP INTO THIS!!!

Lord Mr. Fool have mercy!

It all start with the card...

The. Fucking. Card. Of. Free. Jail. One.

All I need is just one look at that card and my mind goes into the next card...

Uno Reverse card

----------

Walker : PHANTOM! I WILL CATCH YOU AND YOU WON'T ESCAPE ME THIS TIME!!!

Danny : umh, I dunno man... *reach down to his hidden pocket that he stitched last time, slowly pulling out something*

Walker : *standing right in front of Danny with a triumph grin* Time to go to jail criminal.

Danny : Nah, I don't think I will *slowly his face morph into a shit eating grin* ... But you are Walker *pull the uno reverse card in front of Walker*

Walker : wha-

Danny : uno reverse bitch!

Walker : NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

Danny : GUESS WHO GOT TO BE STUCK BEHIND THE BARS NOW!!! DEFINITELY NOT ME!!! *cackles with glee*

Walker walks in to the cell that he has prepare for Phantom and is stuck in there cuz Danny pull the reverse card and now he's stuck in his own prison by his own game.

.

.

.

.

Then

Shits

Goes

fUckIng

dOwN

hArD

It was a fleeting thought before it escalated into a full blown AU that I didn't plan to happen but they happen anyway. Add with all the ideas and plot bunnies I read through this rabbit hole in tumblr... I an up having an AU...

No one is taking this baby from me and they're now my canon now!!!

*proceed to run away with the AU clutched protectively in my arms*

Did I said what this AU turn into???

Ah, not yet... Well, you see...

This is a Damian twins AU where Danny died as a babe cuz he's kinda a still born? Like born premature and is smaller, weaker, sickly, and all the things that Damian is the superior twin. Which cause Ra's to find him useless, as twisted as it maybe for her own way and selfishness Talia beg Ra's to let her keep her younger child.

Danny died when he was 2 yo in a sparring training.

Damian knows he has a younger twin but only remember his name, Danyal, as well as his hyperfixation on space. Other than that, he only knows mostly from stories his grandfather told him (all bad and negatif on how Danyal is a disgrace for being so weak) and his mother (about all the things he couldn't really remember at younger age and how close they were, especially about how he always take care of his brother), Damian always pretend like he didn't care about his dead weak brother when in all honesty, he work hard and train harder to please his mother just so he could hear more stories about his brother.

Talia tried to revive Danyal by dipping him inside of Lazarus Pit, however, he never come back up. He disappear just like that, without any trace leaving Talia devastated but also hopeful that her child might survive somewhere - Ra's wasn't that happy since the failure's disappearance is a variable he didn't like to have especially if the boy lived - Talia work hard to try to find her second child.

Lazarus Pit has its own portal down on the base of the Pit and since Danny as a baby has been in a finicky status of being alive and dead and live close to the pit, he disappear into the portal. Lazarus Pit is honestly just a leak of ectoplasm - corrupted ectoplasm mind you that the ghosts won't even come close or poke with a thousand foot pole even if they don't need to breathe - end up in infinite realm before a natural portal open up and he got sucked into it where he was thrown out to Amity Part, Illinois. The hotspot place full of ectoplasm, he was found unconscious by the Fentons couple and they brought him home where they proceed to adopt him when he woke up without any memories.

That's how Daniel Fenton come to exist, especially with how small he is the townsfolk mistook him as a babe and easily think he's been there his whole life so any thought of him being adopted was just... Never cross their mind especially with his color palette close to Jack's.

But of course, his life wasn't that easy even after he leave the league without knowing it. The adult Fentons are not the best parents, Danny basically was raised by Jazz - his two years older, older sister - since Jazz could cook which was at age 6 (just making pancakes that she learns from the old lady down town, an easy recipe but hard work for the small child) it was edible and she got better as time goes.

Jack and Maddie were so focused on their portal to the so called Ghost Zone they basically didn't have any children (they're not involved in either of the kid's life) at this point but they always makes Danny clean up their mess when they go out hunting. They finish building the portal when Danny was 13 and Jazz was 15, Danny wasn't happy about being in the lab again but he could try for his parents (jazz wa she same). But of course the portal didn't work, distraught both adult left their children unsupervised without any lab safety alone in the lab.

Danny was mad, he was annoyed, angry, livid even.

All those time wasted, for what? For the portal to not working?!

All those years living in a house without love

Without acknowledgement

Without care

Where he's just cleaning their mess

Where he was never looked

Where he was nothing but a ghost to them

Jazz was there.

She cares

She loves him

Heck! She's basically the adult in the household but she's also a child and she should- no SHE FUCKING DESERVE TO BE TREATED LIKE A CHILD, LOVED, CARED, ABLE TO LIVE HER CHILDHOOD! BUT NO! THE ADULTS WHO CALLED THEMSELVES THEIR PARENTS ARE COMPLETELY INCOMPETENT AND IRRESPONSIBLE!!!

No.

He's dismantling that stupid portal since its not working anyway.

How?

Well, he's growing up and living in a lab at this point with how many times he has to clean up Jack and Maddie's mess while also makes sure nothing explodes in his face.

He has to survive in this house when his sister is not at home. So he adapt and learn how to survive, he knows how to built and programming since he's the one who set their data and research in the lab. Being the cleaning boy gives him a lot of advantage, so he knows what he's doing.

He's going to make sure the portal would never work.

After all, knowing his parents? They'll get back up again start finding what is wrong with portal then fix it and BAM. The portal would be open OR they would kill everyone within vicinity with a large explosion.

.

.

But knowing Danny's luck?

You could guess what happen with that simple plan.

Good thing he has Jazz there to help him huh?

-

-

-

-

OH MY SWEET ICE TEA THAT WAS INTENSE!!! Fuh... Welp! That is just the rough sketch of the story :D

I call this Reverse AU

...

Just for the crack of uno reverse card purpose and nothing else :)

(I just don't know what to call it and honestly, I kinda lake the name so just go with it)

Though I'm not that good of a writer and English is kinda not my first language sooooo... Ignore da grammar errors lol.

What do you guys think?

Do heed thy warning I gave you... This here barely scrapt the ice berg that I have create in the late night of my sleepless journey.

Bye!

[tar-miriel]

january reading wrap-up

does four books merit a wrap-up? i think it does, and it's my house.

the book: lanny by max porter what to expect: an experimentally structured examination of small-town life and society in the south of britain, through the lens of a gently malevolent green man figure and a very precocious child. part contemporary, part sort of folk magical realism. very short, vibes over plot. thoughts: i thought the more purely contemporary sections worked better - the prose is very punchy, and the experimental structure enhances the effect. and the Vibes. the magical realism stuff sometimes felt like it was being complicated purely for complicated..ness sake, and i have limited patience for that. read if: you, too, once lived in a middle class small town in the south of england where you didn't particularly fit in, and you want to feel #seen. if you just get a kick out of weirdly formatted books.

the book: the twisted ones by t. kingfisher what to expect: a.. retelling of? companion novel to? weird cousin of? arthur machen's the white people, set in the american south. there's weird shit in the woods, but our protagonist is armed with a cast of quirky sidekicks and a very very good dog. medium paced folk horror. thoughts: i truly can't say this book is badly paced - it's incredibly readable and i was never bored, but in retrospect a lot of its 400 pages are only very gently eerie. when the horror hits it undeniably hits hard, but it also hits in the 'some things are simply unknowable let's get the fuck out' way, which isn't my favourite. especially given how much time we spend with ms protagonist just, you know. throwing out the trash. read if: you're just dipping your toes into the horror genre and need to work up to it. if you feel most stories could be improved by the presence of a Very Good Boy (dog-type). the book: the goblin emperor by katherine addison what to expect: the emperor of the elflands and all the sons he likes die unexpectedly, which means that his unloved exiled half-goblin youngest kid has to take the throne, with zero preparation. every day he gets emails. slow-paced political fantasy of manners, with very rich and vivid worlbuilding. thoughts: discerning readers may recall that i've already read this, and that i read it in december of 2022. it has enchanted me body and soul etc. it's not a perfect book but it's an excellent one, and it's so immersive and its heart is so lovely. you fight tooth and nail to connect with people and be kind and it doesn't always work, but my god, sometimes it does. read if: you've ever gotten emotional about that one richard siken bit - you know, the gentleness that comes, not from the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it - you know it, tumblrina. that one. if you deeply morn the potential for both cuntery and fraught intimacy that was lost when english dropped the distinction between the formal and informal you.

the book: come tumbling down by seanan mcguire what to expect: this is book #5 in the wayward children series, which is about about a bunch of kids who went on portal fantasy adventures, were spat out by their said portals when their adventures were done, and struggle to adjust to living in the real world. the stories alternate between the kids' 'origin story' adventures, and the 'modern' storyline, where they all attend a boarding school for kids who had the same experience. fast-paced ya fantasy novellas. thoughts: that i keep reading this series is a cruel joke played on me by me, under no duress whatsoever. i keep hoping it'll live up to its potential, and bar one notable entry (#4, for the curious), it truly never does. way too enchanted by its own cleverness and quirkyness, and unbearably heavy-handed about its After School Special messaging, even allowing for the fact that this is YA. read if: listen. read the first book in the series - it's like 160 pages, and you'll knock it out in an afternoon. if you like it, good news - they're all like that! if you don't, simply stop right there. they're all like that. the characters will never stop talking like they're reading from a leaflet about The Importance Of Diversity In Fiction. they never will.

[angelamajiki]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐧

PAIRINGS: Yandere! Fatgum x Female! Sidekick! Reader

CW: noncon, voyeurism, bell bulge, size kink, praise kink, breeding, cunninglingus, bondage, dumbification

AN: This is a piece for Fern’s 1k Event! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE ! Read the intro and first piece before reading this one! Ty <3 P.S. the italicized quotes are Nighteye’s and reader prior convo

Gluttony: The Second Circle of Dante’s Inferno

“What I like about gluttony,' a bishop I knew used to say, 'is that it doesn't hurt anyone else.'”

You hadn’t the faith to believe him when he said it.

It was hard to call the exchanges that occurred between the two of you a conversation. More or less, he spoke the truth of your reality and you simply didn’t have the gall to question it.

The elevator he thrust you into was cold and unnerving despite the cheesy jazz music that thankfully filled the void of silence you were sure would have deafened you if it prolonged itself. It gave you time to think on his words, more so than you would have liked to.

“The flesh endures the storms of the present alone; the mind, those of the past and future as well as the present. Gluttony is a lust of the mind. It is a poison that is all-consuming of the senses.”

Gluttony was the next trial, so it seemed. Lord knows what lies ahead for you, leaving you foolishly clutching to the notion that this circle couldn’t possibly be worse than the last.

The abrupt halt to the elevator allows the gravity of the situation to sink in fully. The inescapable horror was creeping in through the crack in the door, especially when it opened to find a man waiting for you.

And what a man he was, standing at nearly eight feet.

“Just the gal I was lookin’ for! I was worried my favorite lil sidekick had run off right after quitin’ time.”

An enormous, gloved hand clapped down on your shoulder, lingering far longer than you would have liked.

“Follow me to my office, yeah? I got something I wanna discuss with ya.”

And just like that, the string of fate slipped around your neck like a noose and pulled you along down the empty hallway, save for you, the man, and the numerous amounts of plaques, awards, and other celebratory memorabilia decorating the agency halls.

Judging by the pictures you saw yourself in, you were a hero of sorts, working alongside the unnamed man and two others you had yet to meet. Hopefully, your paths would never cross.

Even inside his office, you could see the remnants of what your life would be in this circle of hell. Whoever was with you seemed to be very fond of you, given the number of photographs and newspaper clippings adorning his desk and walls of the office.

“Y’know, I’ve been thinking about you a lot, and not just your fantastic work as a hero. Been thinking about what a fine woman you’ve grown to be.”

Those large hands found your shoulders again, stroking and rubbing to set you at ease in his grasp.

“Strong.”

One dipped down to your waist.

“Sweet.”

The other onto your arm.

“Everything a man like me needs. You sure fill my appetite in more than one way.”

Finally, the rest on your hips, thumbing circles into the soft flesh he took purchase in there.

Ah, so this was the glutton in question.

“I’m not sure I’m following what you mean.”

Just play dumb, maybe this circle will have mercy on you.

“Oh, don’t play coy with me, honey. There’s no reason to get all shy on me; I promise I don’t bite-”

His hand slid up to your neck, resting comfortably while enveloping the entirety of it with just his palm.

“Unless you ask for it.”

The whisper in his voice sent shivers down your spine, leaving you frozen in his grasp. It was undeniable that you would never beat him, no matter what your power may be in this world. Hell, if you even had one, how certain were you that you could use it?

Your options were far and few between, but laying down and taking it like some pathetic little bitch was not going to be an option for you. Not here, not now.

The shrill sound of your own voice even hurt your own ears as you cried for help, thrashing wildly in the grip of the man.

Your cries for help should have been chosen more carefully, seeing as when your two apparent saviors sped into the room, they opted to help the man pin you down even further.

“Damn, she’s being a feisty little thing-”

“Fatgum, let go of her neck! You’re gonna hurt her.”

“S-Should we really be doing this?”

And so you were left bound against the top of the desk, shrouded in a swarth of tentacles pinning your legs open and your hands above your head.

“Thank you, boys. Didn’t realize she would cause such a stir.”

So Fatgum was his name, or so it appeared to be an alias of some sorts.

“Fatgum, please-”

His smile was sickeningly sweet as he towered over you.

“Awe, no need for formalities with me, sugar plum. Just call me Tai, yeah?”

The two other men stood beside you, watching their boss closely as he dealt with you.

“Curiosity is gluttony. To see is to devour.”

Damn that cursed man for sending you down here in that goddamn elevator. This journey alone made it nearly impossible to keep this strength to see your mother again alive.

“Tai, please. I don’t-” His hearty laugh cut you off. “Begging already, sugar? By the fight you put up, I’d almost thought you didn’t want me anymore.”

“I don’t!” You protested, squirming in your slimy bonds before they tightened uncomfortably around you.

“Don’t yell at him like that. It's unbecoming of you.”

The raven-haired man snapped at you, looking down with a blush seared across his face and up to his ears.

“Relax, Tamaki. She just needs a reminder of who she belongs, ain’t that right? But, he’s right, I can't have you mouthing off like that, now can I?”

Slipping his black mask off his eyes, Tai fastened it around your mouth and head, loosely gagging you.

“Yeah, you belong to us!”

It was the redhead’s turn to pipe up before Tai shushed the pair of men.

“Now, now, I know you’re fond of our sweet little sidekick here, but this?”

He clapped a hand over still clothed pussy, rubbing gently.

“This here is mine; you boys can’t have this. But you’re more than welcome to stay and watch as I indulge myself.”

You whined into the gag, looking at him with teary eyes as he ripped a hole in your bottoms and panties.

“Hey, hey, hey. No need for tears, honeybun. You're safe with me, okay? I’m gonna take such good care of my little sweetheart, don’t you worry about a thing.”

His large fingers stroked over your clit slowly and tenderly, kissing your salty tears away as he shushed you with praise and loving words. Thumbing your clit, he pushed his middle fingers into you at a slow pace, grinning softly when you bit back a moan.

“Come on now, girl. We wanna hear how good I’m makin’ ya feel, ain’t that right, boys?”

Their collective groans of pleasure gave you all the response you needed; those sick fucks were getting off on you being harassed by your boss.

His finger sped up in pace, making you squeal once he curled his finger in an upwards motion. “Can’t wait to hear what you’ll sound like on my cock, sweet girl. Gonna sing us a nice song?”

Another finger slipped in as his free hand pawed at your tits, fondling and groping as he finger fucked you a new sense of vigor.

“As much as I don't want to hurt you, sweetheart, I’m just itching to get inside you and feel that pretty cunt around me. You understand, don’t you? I just can’t help myself when it comes to you.”

His lips continued to litter your skin in kisses to your face, licking at the tears that fell from your eyes when he added a third finger into your tight, wet hole.

“Mhm, you won’t mind if I have a taste, do ya?”

You could only whine in response.

“Of course you don’t, my good girl never says no to me.”

A hot mouth sealed itself around your clit as three fingers pumped in and out of you steadily, hitting all the right spots repeatedly. You squealed and shook in your binds, feeling your orgasm approaching hard and fast with the aid of his tongue lapping and suckling at you.

“Gonna cum for me, pretty girl?”

That was all you needed to feel yourself reach that blinding peak, sobbing and writhing as he rode out your ecstasy. His tongue continued to work at you far after you were finished, overestimating you without a care in the world. Your whines of protest fell on deaf ears as he just pulled your body closer to his face.

“Taste so good, sweetheart. I’ll stop when I’m finished with my meal, y’understand? This is my pussy, and I’ll do what I want with it.”

Leaving you twitching and sobbing, Tai finally pulled away and stood up, pulling his cock out and stroking it above you.

“Can’t wait to breed my pussy. Gonna make you my cute little cream puff.”

Both of his massive hands circled around you waist, pulling you flush against him as he sank all the way into your tight heat. The stretch of his girth was quite nearly unbearable as he pushed himself to the hilt inside of you, rubbing the small bulge in your belly with fondness while peering down at you.

“You feel so good, sweetheart. I knew you’d be so good for me. Yer takin’ me so well.”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he slowly pulled out, leaving your legs twitching wildly when his thumb found its way back to your clit before he sank back in all the way. You could snark about how courteous it was of him to allow you to adjust, but the thread of consciousness was hard to grasp onto as he completely dominated your mind with numbing pleasure.

“You were made to take my cock, sweet thing. Let me give you a treat for bein’ so obedient for me.”

His praise went straight to your gut, as much as you hated to admit it, leaving you feeling pliable and soft under his demanding touch. Those hands around your waist pulled at your body, bringing you back and forth on his cock like you were a goddamn fleshlight.

“Ah, ” he grunted. “I don't think I can hold back much longer; you’ll let me be selfish, won’t ya?”

With that, all sense of tenderness and gentleness was thrown out the window as he picked you up from the desk, holding you against his chest as he jackhammered into you with an impossible pace of his hips.

“Shit! Squeezing me so tight, bein’ such a good little fucktoy for me.”

The sounds of skin slapping and the collective sounds of pleasure rang heavy in the room as he used and abused your throbbing pussy, feeling his grip on you tighten when he was reaching his own high.

“Fuck! I’m gonna cum, gonna stuff my pussy nice and full!”

The bulge on your stomach grew even more as he came, stuffing you to the hilt with his cum and his cock. Ropes of it leaked out of your hole, even as he stayed inside you, panting and kissing at your sweaty forehead.

“Gave ‘em a good show, didn’t we, sweetheart? Say thank you, boys.”

Their thanks were mumbled out as they too had exhausted themselves just from the display of your pleasure. Tamaki’s tentacles retracted themselves from you, allowing you to stretch and return feeling to your arms and legs.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen, sweetheart. We’re - hey, are you with me? I’m gonna clean you up and take you back home with me, okay? No more hero nonsense for you, ya hear me? All you need to do from now on is stay home and keep that pussy warm for me.”

Like hell you were going to stay for another damned second in this realm, not after being violated so horrifically.

“O-Okay.”

Play it cool, play it cool.

“Let me go to the bathroom, then.” You swallowed, hoping to fool the men. “A-And I’ll get my change of clothes and we can go home.”

You didn’t wait for a response, hobbling out of the office before making a break down the hall for the elevator. Their shouts echoed off the hallway walls as you ran with all your strength left back into the safety of the elevator, leaving them running after you before the door shut on them.

“Gluttony is a great fault; but we do not necessarily dislike a glutton. We only dislike the glutton when he becomes a gourmet-that is, we only dislike him when he not only wants the best for himself, but knows what is best for other people.”

— tagging: @sightoru @anarchicmartyr @natsuonii @whumperooni @viixens @lunar-nebula @trafalgar-temptress

[its-not-a-phase-mom-i-d8-demons]

pairings: Lucifer x Fem!Reader, Mammon x Fem!Reader, Leviathan x Fem!Reader

warnings: tw abandonment (but it turns out okay, I promise), mentions of the act of birthing,

A/N: you came to the right place! as the second oldest of six children, I have some experience when it comes to pregnancy:) I hope you don't mind, nonny, but I'm gonna split this up into a few parts so I can do the dateables as well!

Lucifer

The moment you had shyly produced the positive pregnancy test from the pocket of your hoodie, it felt like Lucifer had entered into a fever dream filled with nursery designs, baby names, the expenses that pile up before the baby even arrives, researching human pregnancy, keeping you out of harm's way and healthy and happy...

So when you first stagger out of bed and rush to his bathroom, hand clamped over your mouth and one shaky hand on your slightly swollen tummy, Lucifer isn't surprised

He is very concerned, however. You had been so nervous to tell him of your pregnancy, you waited until the last moment before your bump was noticeable to tell him

That meant you had been suffering from all of these pregnancy side effects before he'd permanently moved you to sleep in his room

Lucifer hoists himself out of bed and pads into the bathroom, gathering up your hair, if any, into his fist and pulling your hunched form between his legs for support

You hate this feeling with a passion; throbbing stomach and a lump in your throat with little to no vertigo and tears rolling down your face as you try and catch your breath

You tell him it hurts, you ask him if he can take the pain away as your head rests on his chest, lashes fluttering with wooziness

Lightheadedness was unbearably common; you would suddenly grip his sleeve and he could watch the color drain from your face and your knees get shaky, body beginning to sway

He always catches you though, finding a place for you to sit or lie down and gather yourself

Tummy rubs become more common; the feeling of his hands against your bare tummy, spreading their warmth and nullifying the ache, allowing you to relax

He's extremely attentive as well and can tell whenever you need something

Water? Here's a cup sweetheart, remember, you're hydrating and eating for two people!

Craving something? Chocolate? Fried pickles? Chips of some kind? sweets? He's stockpiled anything you could want and locked it away just for you.

I feel like Lucifer would want your baby to be a little girl. A little princess he can carry on his shoulders and spoil with his love and gifts.

Satan ruined him for having another baby boy, but if that's how the cards fall, he certainly wouldn't mind. Unfortunately, he'd be constantly walking on eggshells, afraid he'll make your little boy into another rebellious child

That's the last thing he wants

Lucifer does his best to keep his kid away from Satan and Belphie and out of the 'Formerly Anti-Lucifer League', but sometimes you're taking a nap or out shopping with Asmodeus, and Satan and his brothers manage to coerce the little one into their shenanigans

One thing is for sure though, even if Lucifer didn't want any kids and the creation of one was unplanned, he would never ever turn you away

He's very responsible and does anything in his power to make the pregnancy as easy and happy as possible

On the day you are to give birth, he's a mess

He has already sweat through 3 shirts by the time the IV has been secured to your hand

Everything he says doesn't come without a stutter

He's squeezing your hand and kissing your hair during labor, trying to distract you from the burn between your legs as much as he can

You probably need extra stitches from baby's horns ngl

Definitely cries before the baby is even put in your arms

Refuses to let his brothers come and see you, "They can wait until we go home."

Lucifer is Smitten™

He smooches the tiredness under your eyes and tells you to get some rest

Surprisingly, he enjoys a lot of the names from the human world you discuss and will most likely pick one of those

But if it's a girl, her name is Lilith. I'm sorry MC, your input is invalid at this time

You don't regret 'final day in the devildom sex' at all when you get to witness the Avatar of Pride reduced to tears when the nurse puts the child in his arms

P-P-Pregnant? MC, ya better be jokin'...

Mammon

You weren't, judging by the pregnancy test(s) clutched in your fist

He's not mad at you, he's not upset, (in fact, he's the happiest he's ever been), he just scared

Broken Condom Victim™

He loved you just a bit too hard last week...

but let's be real here, HIS MC, carrying HIS baby?

That's like the highest level of ownership on his lovely human you could get! Levi, Asmo, Beel, Lucifer, everyone would be SOOOO JEALOUS!!!

AND

He gets to have a little one running around again!

You saw how sweet he was to babified Satan in the obey me anime premier! He LOVES little kids and nothing would make him happier than someone to play with (besides MC of course) that wouldn't make fun of him for messing up and being silly!

AND

You're so pretty!!

I mean, ya were always pretty, but somethin' about ya is different and yer even more beautiful than before somehow!

Mammon said, his entire face the shade of a pomegranate

Pregnancy glow is REAL

Asmo agrees, after stealing you away from an extremely overprotective mammon and hiding in the attic to chat without disturbance (mammon)

But as much as YOU know he would be the BEST father, comments from his brothers continue to drag him down and the evenings he cried into your shoulder became more and more frequent as your pregnancy progresses

Mammon, as we all know, is, in fact, a tiddy man

He likes to touch and squeeze them, and just gently hold them while cuddling or even browsing in a store, he'd just come up behind you and touch your boobs

(also, mammon likes all sizes, so if you have next to no tiddy like me, you'll be at his mercy as well. those with the large honkers, however, watch yourself)

Now that there's a miracle growing in your tummy, other parts of your body are preparing for its arrival, including your chest

Swelling, swelling, soreness, growing and darkening of the nipples, and swelling make it so Mammon can no longer touch your pretty tiddies :(((

(grammarly didn't like that word)

On the day mammon snack size was to be born, mammon is silent but extremely fidgety

It was early in the morning when you'd shaken him awake like, "mammoney, I'm going into labor" and he was out of bed and out the door with your luggage before you finished blinking

After grabbing your DDD's and you, he carries you down to the car (what dysfunctional family doesn't have a car? a nice one (Mercedes, Audi, you get the idea) for lucifer and a Volkswagon bus or something for his siblings to share) and drives quickly, but very carefully drives to the hospital, holding your hand the whole way.

He covers your eyes when they put the IV in, just in case you're squeamish, and rubs your arms as the drugs begin to take effect and there's a little fear in your eyes at the thought of pushing an entire human/demon being out of your coochie

He assures you and never lets go of your hand no matter how long you're in labor

When it's all over with and you are resting in your hospital bed waiting for the doctors to finish the Apgar tests and give you your baby

Mammon is speechless as the nurse places the baby in your arms

That's HIS KID!!

Immediately starts crying

The little horns poking out of the blanket? Those look just like his!!

Judging by the bit of hair on it's head, it looks like the baby will have hair like yours

If it's a baby boy, he thinks it should be named "Mammon II" but you just giggle and remind him of the deal he made with lucifer long ago, that his first born child, no matter the gender, had to have 'Lucifer' somewhere in their name

Human names are dumb, except for yours of course, so he searches for suitable demon names

The last thing he wants is a kid named Lucifer, so that will be the kid's middle name

He really regrets his past decisions now

Leviathan

"Levi?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"I'm pregnant."

*leviathan has been KO'd*

No joke, this man is literally floored and didn't wake up for a while and you were afraid you had just slain the fucking Lord of Shadows

Some Henry you were

You had to call Lucifer in to wake him up because he was still flat on the floor a half and hour later

Mammon is more that happy to tip a bucket of ice water on the face of the son of a bitch that impregnated HIS MC

Levi wakes up and pounces on you, gripping you tightly by the arms

"You're k-kidding r-right?"

Him? A father?

Uhhhhhhh

Unfortunately, Leviathan.exe has stopped working, try again in two thousand years

I hate to say this, but he definitely detaches himself for a while until his brothers, especially Asmodeus, literally beat him into shape

He comes back to you, a little bruised and sobbing, but not from the beating he just received

He's so sorry he neglected you! He's such a horrible demon, undeserving of your welcoming nature

He's gonna be the worst dad, and he's not good enough for you, and his kid will hate him just like everyone else does, he doesn't deserve you, he's so sorry for making you suffer the side effects and feel all alone,

Sir, I-

FALSE

It's your turn to shake some sense into him, reminding him that he would be the. best. dad!!

Not to mention the fact that you were just happy he realized his mistakes and came back to you

He begs you to sleep in his bed tub with him for security, and you have to admit his tail is very comforting

Levi does extensive research on human pregnancy and now at the dinner table, instead of talking about the latest slice of life anime he'd been watching, he's just spouting random pregnancy facts and you're laughing so hard it brings you to tears

When the weird dreams and vivid nightmares happen, Levi is right behind you, rubbing your swollen tummy, and letting you talk about them

A lot of them were about him and about your future child

Most of them were about how they got hurt in some way, either that or YOU got hurt and the baby died

These, more often than not, brought you to tears and stress you out, but Levi is right there, okay? Nothing can hurt you, nor would he let anything happen to you on his watch

Learns how to massage you (safely) to reduce stress

Definitely talks to the baby a lot

Levi begged you to be induced so the birth was safe and not a sudden occasion and you agree

On the day the doctor recommended, you arrived at the hospital and got down to business

Levi didn't really want to be in the room with you, but he knew he had to for your sake and he'd played a few birth simulators from both perspectives and you really needed him

Kinda sits there awkwardly comforting you and encouraging you, holding your hand and caressing your cheeks, a bit flushed from exertion and tears

Listen

If the baby is a boy, his name will be Henry and that's final

If it's a girl, he doesn't really care, as long as you don't name her 'mammonia' or something dumb like that

definitely crashes your hospital bed to snuggle until the baby is ready

cries when the baby wraps its extremely small digits around one of his own

also at the little horns protruding from its head

and the tuft of purple in its head

Also Smitten™

He's so excited to get home and show off his beautiful baby to his brothers and then formulate a plan to raise the kid to live and breathe TSL just like his daddy <3

--

July 9th: VIP MEMBERS, GET YALLS JUICE!!

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[bubblesuga]

Once In A Lifetime

Summary: Yoongi is a pain in your ass, but sometimes that's okay. What's a cafe job without a little drama?

genre: college!au tags: smut, fluff, mutual masturbation, cream pie, dirty talk W/C: 4,740 a/n: i have a weak spot for blond yoongi

You seethe silently while you stare at the schedule on the pin board in the back room. You begged your boss, damn near pleaded on your knees in front of her not to schedule you with him.

Its hard enough to close with only two people but fuck, if it isn't impossible when you're with Min Yoongi.

Don't get it wrong, Yoongi has a knack for customer service and he's quite good at making coffee but for some reason-- when the two of you were completely alone-- he became unbearably annoying.

It's like the moment the open sign turns off, he forgets how to work. While you're in the back cleaning dishes, sweeping the kitchen, counting cash drawers, taking out the garbage and everything else involved with closing, Yoongi turns on his speaker and plays whatever song he's been working on recently.

Okay, sure. This job isn't the most important thing on the planet. You both are just trying to get a little extra cash while you push through college, but you'll be damned if you get paid the same while you do all the work.

"Kati!" you yell from the back, your arms crossed and your nails digging into each of your biceps. You hear footsteps behind you, causing you to turn around expecting to see Kati.

Unfortunately for you, Yoongi leans in the doorway with a smirk on his face, "Awe, we're closing together again!"

"Awe we're closing toget-" you begin to mock but end up giving up and allowing your frustration to take over, "shut up, Yoongi."

"Don't seem so glum, sugar plum. I promise I'll be a good boy and listen to you." His words were too sweet to be true, they were laced with his famous sarcasm which only made you want to yell at him more.

Before you have the chance to counteract his sarcasm, he taps your back lightly before turning around and walking back out.

If there was one thing you did enjoy about him, it was the view of him when he walked away.

As the hours pass, eventually you and Yoongi are the last ones there. When Seokjin said goodbye, you silently pleaded that he would stay for just a little while longer. He gave you a slight apologetic look, glancing at Yoongi before shaking his head and walking out.

A groan leaves your lips.

It's only 9:30, you still have half an hour until the shop closes and there's way too many pastries left over.

Yoongi stands behind you, silently wiping down the coffee machines and humming along to whatever song was playing over the loud speakers.

Leaning back against the counter, you cross your arms and watch Yoongi for a moment. In a dark denim apron and slim black shirt, it feels as though the uniform was made for Yoongi. You can tell he's been working out lately, his muscles are more defined beneath the fabric of his shirt. It's killing you that despite being as annoying as he is, he's still immensely attractive and he knows it.

The snapback rests backwards on his head, blond hair poking out subtly. He turns, meeting your eyes for a moment which causes you to turn away quickly. It's quiet for a while again.

"I don't think anyone is going to come in," Yoongi breaks the silence, "I doubt Kati would mind if we closed early."

"I think she would. She said she gets a rush in the last 15 minutes so we should be prepared for that."

"We're not going to get a rush, we're a coffee shop and it's almost 10pm on a Monday."

"I'm not disobeying Kati just so you can play your shitty music and do nothing while I close."

"Shitty," he scoffs, "my music is hardly shitty, and I do help close. Who do you think cleans the front?"

"Wiping down espresso machines isn't the hardest part of closing." Maybe you're being a bit too harsh. Maybe you're trying to cover up the fact that he caught you staring at him earlier.

Yoongi sets the yellow rag down on the counter, turning to you fully, "I also sweep and mop up here. It's kinda hard to do anything else when your coworker does everything else. Ya ever think of delegating, huh?"

You feel your eye twitch. Just as you're about to respond, the bell above the door rings and you instantly wipe away your anger and throw your best customer service face on.

"Hi, good evening! What can I get for you today?"

As you help the customer, Yoongi walks to the back.

You make her coffee, heat her Panini, and speak with her for a moment about the aromatics of the freshly ground coffee beans that you had become used to. You didn't have the heart to tell her that you didn't smell it anymore, so you talked about how that was your favorite part about working in a cafe.

When she leaves, you realize it's finally time to close.

Switching off the open sign, you open the cash drawers and begin counting. Anything extra goes into the safe, and it seems as though everything was in place tonight.

In the back, you can hear Yoongi moving around and you don't question what he's doing.

Cleaning, sweeping, and mopping... Eventually you finish the front and move to the back but you stop suddenly.

Yoongi isn't playing his music.

Raising an eyebrow, you push open the door to the back and see that the kitchen is completely spotless.

Yoongi puts the last of the dirty dishes away and turns to you, "Don't worry, princess. I did it just the way you like it."

"T- thank-" you stutter but you're not able to finish your sentence before Yoongi pushes past you and walks out the door. The bell rings and you realize that he's left. The two of you managed to close in under 20 minutes.

You can't help but feel a sense of guilt wash over you. You definitely we're being a bit too harsh, and it seems to have affected Yoongi more than you thought it would.

Sighing, you push a hand through your hair and walk out the door.

Your drive home is silent. You're not one to overthink, especially when it comes to Yoongi, but you feel the need to apologize.

After your nightly routine, you plop into bed and glance at your phone. It doesn't take much to make you open your contact list.

(Y/N) sent 10:55

hey. just wanted to apologize for calling your music shitty. for the record, it's not. you're pretty good.

Your phone dings quickly.

Yoongi received 10:56

no need to be sorry, i know i'm good.

You don't respond, rolling your eyes and tossing your phone onto the night stand.

~*~*~

Closing the next day was much more simple than before. Yoongi did the back again, but this time you could hear his music playing again.

The beats are much more incredible than you'd ever admit to him in person. His voice speaks melodically to the music, drowning out your thoughts. You find yourself tapping your foot to the beat as you finish cleaning up the front.

The song finishes and there's a sudden change of pace.

Instead of a strong bass line and incredible drum work, a piano plays through.

Your interest is piqued, your legs carrying you to the back where Yoongi stands. He doesn't notice you, allowing the song to continue to play.

"This is gorgeous." you murmur, and a switch flips in Yoongi.

His hands, though soaked with water and soap, reaches up and turns off the speaker. He turns to you, panicked, "N- no one is supposed to hear that one. I didn't realize it was so loud."

"So you're telling me you just...listen to your own music?"

"Well, no," for the first time, you see a blush creep across Yoongi's face, "I play certain songs for you, and there's certain songs that are just for me."

"You play songs for me?" Any resentment you had towards the man dissipated in an instant. Instead, butterflies swarmed in your tummy. Butterflies for him.

He scratches the back of his neck, "Well, I don't play them for me. I want you to see how good I am."

"Humble," you hum, giggling slightly. Yoongi seems taken aback by the sound but doesn't get a chance to dwell as you continue to speak, "why can't I listen to this song?"

Yoongi sighs, "It's embarrassing."

"Let me listen," you begin to walk towards the speaker but Yoongi puts his hands on your shoulders to hold you back, "come on, Yoongi."

Yoongi doesn't give, but you manage to slip passed his hands and fall against his chest. He chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist and waddling you backwards. In a last ditch effort, you attempt to reach passed him but his grip on you is surprisingly strong.

"No, no, Princess. That song is for me and me only."

The nickname has a stronger affect on you than usual.

"But..." you stick your bottom lip out in a fake pout, "I wanna hear the softer side of Min Yoongi."

Yoongi's eyes dart to your lips, licking his own. You're suddenly aware of just how close Yoongi is keeping you, his cologne filling your nose. He's cute from this angle, his nose is rounded and is tinged with red at the tip. His eyes, though dark, are brighter than usual. He smiles softly, a gentle giggle falling from his lips.

"I can't tell you how many times I've wanted you this close to me." Your heart melts at his words, and you look down to the way your chests are pressed against each other.

"Why didn't you say anything?" you question.

He smiles, "I did, you just didn't listen since you were so preoccupied with your little closing routine."

"My little closing routine makes the opener's life so much easier." you defend, trying to distract yourself from the way his hands sit at the base of your spine, playing gently with the hem of your shirt.

"I'm sure the opener is very concerned with the fact that you make sure you set the forks before the spoons and the knives right after." Yoongi whispers, his tone joking but his eyes glazing over. Even in the horrendous white lighting of the kitchen, he looks beautiful.

"Bite me, Yoongi."

Yoongi bares his teeth and scrunches his nose, "If you insist."

Without wasting a second, Yoongi's mouth latches onto your lips. You gasp into the kiss, but Yoongi's grip tightens and holds you closer.

To say your stomach exploded into butterflies would be an understatement. Your entire body lit up like a Christmas tree, heat radiating from your skin because Yoongi was everywhere. His hands were large, slipping underneath the hem of your shirt and resting on your lower back. He didn't stray any higher or lower, simply planting himself in one spot while his lips continued their attack on yours.

He smiles against your lips, taking them away only to begin his reign over your jaw line and down your neck. Then, he nips.

One.

Two.

Three.

By the fourth, his teeth are biting at your collarbones, but his hands have not moved from your back. You mewl above him, desperately clinging to his arms. Damn your neck for being so sensitive.

"Yoongi," you breathe, "touch me, Yoongi."

"I am touching you." He murmurs stubbornly against your skin.

You whine, "Your hands, Yoongi."

"Hmm," he hums, chuckling, "I like when you say my name."

Suddenly his hands drop down to your ass, kneading it through the thin fabric of your work leggings. He pulls himself back up to your face, planting his lips against yours again as you moan into his mouth.

Yoongi slips his hands between the two of you, hooking his fingers beneath the band of both your leggings and your panties.

"Are we really about to fuck in the kitchen?" You ask, your chest heaving.

Yoongi leans back, taking a second to assess the situation. "You're right, my apartment?"

"No, your car."

"Dirty girl," he grins, taking his keys out of his pocket, "I'll turn off all the lights. Go get ready for me."

You nod, grabbing his keys and walking out of the door. As you're about to reach the front door, it already swings open and Kati waltzes in completely unexpectedly.

Panicked, your eyes go wide and you halt just before leaving from behind the counter. Kati glances up from her phone, "Ah, perfect, is Yoongi still here?"

Swallowing, you nod carefully.

"Great, I need to talk to you both," she turns towards the kitchen, "Yoongi! Get your ass up here!"

Closing your eyes, you pray to god that he's composed himself a little more than you have. Sure enough, he walks from the kitchen and seems just as nonchalant as ever, "Yes, boss?"

"So, I need you two to close for the next couple weeks together. Jackson quit and Woojin can't work nights."

"...and?" Yoongi questions.

She seems slightly taken aback, "Well, I need to make sure you two won't kill each other."

Both you and Yoongi hold back laughter.

Resting his arm softly on your shoulder, Yoongi's skin is still hot against yours, "No promises, boss."

"I'm serious," she scolds, "It's only a couple weeks then I'll never schedule you two alone again."

"Yes ma'am." you put your hand up in a salute.

Working alone with Yoongi for 2 weeks? What could possibly go wrong?

Kati smiles, "Alright then. I'm gonna grab the money from the safe then I'll let you two get back to closing."

You two silently watch Kati unlock the safe beneath the register, taking out the deposits from today. Yoongi's arm hasn't left your shoulder, his fingers brushing lightly against your collarbone. When you turn over to him, his face showing no emotion but his hands doing more to you than you could ever imagine.

Kati turns back, "Okay, be here at 2 tomorrow. Thank you!"

As she walks out, Yoongi's arm falls from your neck.

You turn to him, raising an eyebrow as he wipes his brow.

"I was shitting bricks." Yoongi says, causing you to tilt your head. "Why?"

"You have hickeys all over your neck."

Your eyes widen, your hand flying to your neck, "Yoongi! Do you know how fucking bad that could have been?"

"I know, that's why I covered your neck." He explains, gesturing with just as wild eyes.

"No, no-" you shake your head, "We almost fucked in the kitchen, Yoongi. That's not okay."

"But we were gonna go to my car!" Yoongi's shoulders slump and his mouth is agape in confusion.

"Imagine if she had walked in when your tongue was down my throat."

"Well I would have asked her to join."

"Yoongi!"

"I'm kidding, you know I only have eyes for you babe." He steps closer, leaning forward to press a kiss against your lips once again. You pull away, shaking your head.

Despite the fact that it was taking everything in you not to kiss him again, not to giggle at his lighthearted jokes and just follow him to his car, you knew that you had to practice self-discipline otherwise no work would ever get done with Yoongi.

"Are you upset?" Yoongi seems hurt.

"No," you sigh, "I just don't think it's a good idea for us to do anything here."

Yoongi straightens his back, clearing his throat and adjusting his clothes, "Right. Wouldn't want anyone's coffee getting out late because we're in the back fucking."

"Right." you whisper.

Yoongi smiles softly, "Doesn't mean I won't imagine it."

"Such a gentleman," you roll your eyes, bending down to grab your bag, "I'll see you tomorrow."

~*~*~

"Can I get an Dirty Chai with oatmilk, Yoongi?"

It's the first time you had one of those late night rushes that Kati was talking about. There's a line out the door, drunk college students desperate for some sort of carbs to soak up the alcohol. Yoongi is running back and forth from the panini press to the espresso machine while you grabbed pastries and muffins for what seemed like hours.

It being busy hasn't distracted you enough from the past couple of days with Yoongi.

Yoongi has respected the boundary you set-- for the most part. Walking passed you in the small space behind the counter, his hands brush along your back, a trail of heat following his fingertips. Though it's not the most intense of touches, there's a sensuality of it that leaves you nearly a panting mess.

Your conversations have been more open, you continue to ask him about his music and he wonders aloud about your studies. He learned that you were a history major, specializing in paleontology. Ever since then, he likes to ask questions about random dinosaurs. It's certainly cute, because you can tell he's genuinely interested but he's only interested because you're the one telling him.

You still haven't been able to listen to that song that he started, and he insist its because its not good enough for the rest of the world to hear it yet. You're sure its finished, he's just not ready for you to hear what it's about. Something tells you you're getting close though.

Yoongi turns around a few moments after your request, setting a Dirty Chai on the counter. You call out the customer's name and smile as you hand it to her.

"Swap me, babe. My hands are shaking."

Oh yeah, the pet names have evolved as well.

"Shaking?" you question, but you don't have enough time to dwell as the panini press dings and you're rushing to the other side of the front.

Sure enough, as you glance back Yoongi's hands are shaking while he begins handing out pastries.

Finishing up a few more coffees, you call out customer names and the dining room begins to clear out. The line is gone and a few groups sit in the dining room, eating their food.

The second that Yoongi hands the last pastry out, he walks to the back without saying a word to you.

Glancing at the customers, you swallow and follow him.

When you enter the kitchen, Yoongi's taking deep breaths against the sink. He doesn't notice you, so you lean opposite him against the counter.

Leaning forward, you rest your hands on either side of Yoongi's face, forcing him to look you in the eye.

"That was a lot of people." Yoongi breathes.

"It was, but we kicked ass." you reassure him, but his breathing doesn't slow down.

"I think I'm having an anxiety attack," he explains, "can you hug me? P- pressure helps calm down the fight or flight response and-"

You don't allow him to finish, pulling him close to you and wrapping your arms tightly around him. His face buries itself into your neck, his breath fanning raggedly over your skin. It takes him a few moments, but his breathing slowly begins to calm, his heart rate slowing against your chest.

"If its ever getting to much for you just let me know and I'll fly solo for a little bit." you speak softly, your hand moving up to stroke the back of Yoongi's head.

"I can't do that to you," he sighs, "I'm sorry you have to see me like this."

"No, I get it," your nails begin to scratch his scalp gently, "a lot of drunk people wanting food is overwhelming, especially when their patience is non-existent. If you ever need to take a breather then I won't get mad."

"You already hate closing with me, I don't want to make it worse."

Your heart breaks.

"No, I don't hate closing with you. I think I was just trying to hide my feelings." You never expected to say this to him, but at this point you'll do anything to make him feel better.

He pulls away from your neck, a shy smile on his face. He has done a complete 180 from two nights ago.

"You have feelings for me?"

"Well, I certainly feel something." You look down, hyper aware of how close he is to you.

He grins, leaning down and pressing a soft, quick kiss to your lips. Before the conversation can go any further, the bell dings open and both of you jump apart, moving to the front to help yet another customer.

The rest of the night went by much more smoothly than earlier.

Yoongi turns on his music in the front while you do the dishes in the back. He's playing his usual mix, and you find yourself humming along to the songs as they come.

It's not until you're almost finished do you hear the familiar piano notes begin to play. Peaking your head out of the kitchen, Yoongi holds the speaker in his hands and watches you carefully. Slow melodies play out underneath his gentle voice, the lyrics portraying the man's first love.

You cross your arms, soaking in the lyrics as much as you can. His face is red as more emotion plays out. It doesn't take you long to realize that what you're listening to is the personification of Yoongi's passion. A conversation is held between him and the piano, and Yoongi sets flame to it all.

When the song comes to a close, you don't move, or breathe, or speak.

"Oh my god, say something!"

You look up, meeting Yoongi's scared eyes.

"When you become famous can I sell your autograph on ebay?"

Yoongi laughs, "Yeah, you can sell it."

You don't think of a witty response. Instead, you walk towards him and hug him once again. Resting your head on his shoulder, you two sway for a moment, almost dancing with the air. The atmosphere of the empty cafe has become much more calming than it was before.

His hands dance along your spine, "You know, I've never shown anyone that song before."

"I'm glad that my insistence made me the first." you tease, inhaling Yoongi's cologne. He certainly knows how to smell good.

"Your insistence, yes," he starts, "but also your impeccable ability to strengthen my confidence."

"Awe, does Yoongi have a soft spot for me?" you try your best to hide the way his smile is making your heart flutter.

"Always have." He murmurs, his lips kissing the tip of your nose.

"We're not very good at the whole 'not-kissing-at-work' thing." you giggle, feeling his grip tighten.

"I don't want to be good at it."

He doesn't allow you to respond before his lips are on yours once again. Against them, he smirks, "Shall we go to my car tonight?"

"God yes."

With steamy windows and Yoongi's hot body on top of yours, you both completely forget about your surroundings. His back seat is incredibly comfortable, your head resting on his shirt while he nips along your stomach and down to your hips.

It didn't take long for the two of you to move, you listening to Yoongi's every silent demand as he taps your hip to signal you to lift them.

Smiling, he murmurs a soft, "Good girl." before sliding your leggings and panties off in one go.

Now fully exposed, goosebumps raise under your skin. Yoongi is slow moving, his tongue drawing circles on your pelvic bone before biting down harshly. You gasp, your back arching into him.

"How long have you been this wet?" Yoongi asks, his fingers moving forward to collect your arousal. He slips through your folds, pushing a single finger into your aching heat.

You can't formulate a response to his question, because he begins a tormentingly slow thrust into your head, curling his finger upward.

Dipping his head down, his lips wrap around your clit, and he sucks.

Your hips jerk against him, but the pleasure doesn't play out for long before his pulling away.

"I don't want you to cum yet," he chuckles when you whine, standing and unbuckling his belt, "I just needed to make sure you were ready."

"And what?" you bite playfully, "you gonna pull out a huge snake or some shit?"

"I don't think so," Yoongi responds, sliding his pants down his legs, revealing his cock, "it's alright."

It's more than alright. Your mouth waters over the sight, twitching slightly from his arousal. It's curved upward, the tip already a hot red and leaking precum. His hand wraps around the base of it, stroking it slowly. Out of habit, you slide your middle and ring fingers into your mouth, sliding them down your body and to your clit.

You eyes don't pull themselves away from the way Yoongi is skillfully touching himself, thumb running along the tip and a string of saliva falling from his mouth to the tip of his cock.

"You like watching me touch myself?" He asks, his voice significantly deeper than it was before. You nod, not looking away from his cock.

"Answer me." he takes his hand away from his cock and brings it to your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He's willing to sacrifice his own pleasure to get an answer out of you, and for some reason that only turns you on even more. You speed the movements on your clit, moaning softly while you look into Yoongi's eyes.

He clicks his tongue once he notices your movements, grabbing your wrist and dragging it up to his mouth. Licking your fingers clean, he grabs your other hand and holds both of your wrists against your pelvic bone, just out of reach of your heat. He likes playing games, and he likes to win.

"Yes," you finally manage, "yes I like watching you jerk off."

He grins, a gummy grin that makes him seem much more innocent than he is. The words are dirty falling from your tongue but it only seems to heighten the fire in Yoongi's eyes.

"Good," he says, gripping his cock again and thrusting into his hand, "should I let you cum just from watching me?"

Your wrists twitch in his other hand, "P- please."

"Okay, whatever you want princess."

He lets go of your hands and your fingers fly to your clit, desperately rubbing harsh circles while he continues to stroke himself.

As his pace speeds up, he begins to let out soft, subtle moans. Your chest heaves at the sounds, hands shaking while you push yourself even closer to the edge.

"Louder, Yoongi," you beg, "please."

Yoongi bites his bottom lip briefly, a small whimper falling from his mouth while you arch your back, the heat in your abdomen growing stronger and stronger.

Yoongi's hand stops suddenly, "Where do you want me to cum?"

You grin mischievously, gesturing to your core.

Yoongi's eyes widen, crawling closer to you and leaning down, "You want me to cum in your pussy?"

You nod frantically.

"Who would have thought my pretty princess was such a dirty girl."

"Just fuck me, Yoongi." you whine, pushing your heat towards him. Yoongi does just that, slipping his cock into you. You instantly clamp around him, causing his hips to stutter deeper into you.

He gains his rhythm quickly, not holding back as he holds your hips into his back seat and pounds into you harshly.

A deep growl erupts from his chest at your small whimpers, an almost primal instinct taking over him as he leans down to kiss you. The second his lips touch yours, you gasp and feel yourself release. A loud moan of his name falls from your lips as you come undone, pushing his hips into yours with your heels.

Yoongi follows suit quickly, his release coating your walls and his head collapsing onto your chest.

"Holy fuck." He says after a minute, his mouth agape while he tries to catch his breath.

"Better than you imagined?" You feel proud of yourself for having such a huge affect on Yoongi. It's not often does he seem caught off guard.

"Way better," he replies, "the best I've ever had."

You run your nails over his scalp again, feeling him shiver against you, "Maybe if you take me out, you'll be able to have it again."

Yoongi pulls his head up, "When, where, what time?"

"I'll leave that up to you," you smile, "let's just cuddle for now."

"Don't have to tell me twice."

[celestialrequiem]

Days of Candy Chapter 2

Warnings: CreepyDark!Duncan Shepherd, sexual harassment, dubcon/non? (just to be safe) touching, dirty talk, possessive Duncan, abuse of power, manipulative Duncan, male masturbation, forced kiss, cockwarming, mention of rape and abuse (but none in the chapter), housewife kink, implied age gap, corruption kink, innocence kink, implied homophobia, mention of anxiety, depression and mental disorders, misogyny kink, corruption kink, sexism, implied age gap, Duncan‘s dirty thoughts, sir kink, praise kink.

Summary: In the small town of Willowdale, Y/N finds her dull life as a waitress at a mediocre diner get a little more interesting when the mysterious and daunting Sheriff takes an interest in her.

Pairing: Duncan Shepherd x Naive/shy reader

This is the first thing I ever written and posted so sorry if this is bad, please give me any constructive feedback/criticism to improve! I am new to this please don’t hate it too much lmao.

Author’s note : This series will have dubious consent and sexual harassment. It is a dark story about a Corrupt Sheriff’s who manipulates people so if you are uncomfortable with that please don’t read! This story deals hugely with sexism as its based in the late 50s/60s.

Thanks to @bloodcoatedeclipse for reading through some parts of it and giving me feedback lmaoo.

I didn’t use a lot of 50s/60s slang just two besides swell and gal

Flip your lid - go crazy

Nifty/groovy - cool or cool vibes

Word count: 5.6k

“what a perfect view doll, bend down, y’ur ass stickin out, all for me all in this lonely night”, a familiar voice said seductively

You quickly get up, feeling flustered, adjusting the hem of your skirt as you hold the mop close to your body

“Sh-sh-sheriff what are you doing here?”, Feeling nauseous because of his presence, alone, at night…after that previous incident.

“What does it look like doll? I am here to pick you up.”, Duncan says with confidence as if the question you are asking him is the stupidest he has heard

You immediately, look up to him. He was wearing a brown greaser jacket, you felt it is similar to jacket Xavier might have had…this made your heart sink, what didn’t help is when you realized how attractive he is because of the result of the rain, his beard is glistering from the reflections of the diner’s lighting despite it being dull.

You felt your heart beat.

“No, its okay its a walking distance”  

“I can’t let a beautiful young dame like yourself walk alone now can I? Hop in the car once you’r are done.”

You blinked at him not knowing how to respond, you feel shy when you talk to him, always not knowing how to answer him back..maybe because he knew Xavier?

Or maybe because he had so much power as a sheriff..and you are sure he is going to be re-elected again next year. He apparently helped a lot of people to get out of debts but that makes you wonder how does he get all this money? Did Xavier know?

He seems like he is waiting for your answer, as his hands are on his waist, around his handcuffs and keys, and his lips playing with the toothpick lingering on his mouth

You easily get stuck in your head, you snap back to reality:  “it is okay, you don’t need to do - ”

He interrupts your sentence, “is there something you would like to say to me doll?, cause it looks like you just don’t want my company is that it?”  You felt his chest vibrate from how he uttered that question, it sounded nearly unintelligible.

You felt your heart pounding, sweat forming on your forehead. You didn't want to make him angry. “No no of course I want your company!, let me finish up and I will meet ya outside.”  You agitatedly vocalize your statement while looking at the ground

He loves that he can always get his way with you. You make it so easy.

He hums in approval

“No its alright I will wait for ya, love seeing you doing those house chores like a pretty little housewife. It is a sight dollface”, he chuckles while eyeing you up and down.

You pause, feeling tensed.

“Go on, continue” as he gives himself a seat, across from you to see you working and see your face.

He does love seeing your rear, but he loves seeing you flustered when he gazes at you.

You shakily start mopping the floor, every second feels like torture. Hoping he doesn’t realize the effect he has on you.

But however he has noticed, he is mused that he has power of you, makes his cock excited

“Am I making you nervous babydoll?” He cooes, shifting his toothpick on his lip, left to right with a slyish grin

You ignore him, giving him your side angle, while mopping away from him. You give him your back figure which makes me angry and hard at the same time.

“eye on me little lady”,  he says in a harsh tone, punctuating each word slowly

You respond back to him surprised with your confidence as you look at the door behind him, scared to look at him in the eyes, “can you please let me finish and you can take me home…” 

“Watch your manners baby, or you are in it for a spankin’, declares it with raised eyebrows.

You blush, why is he talking to you that way? it’s not like you were his wife….

Was he that touchy and talkative with you when Xavier was your boyfriend?

Carissa has told you no, he started acting differently ever since Xavier went missing and then declared dead.

“S-sorry sheriff”, you shift back to your older position, so that Duncan can see your face, and continue mopping

He likes when you are eyes are engaging with his eyes, he is waiting for the day when you touch yourself on his bed with your legs spread wide open for his wolf-like eyes to take in the view as you chant his name like prayer to give you the command for you to finally cum, while staring at him with your chastely eyes.

As you mop the floor, motioning it back and forth towards Duncan, your curvy body was in motion as well. He hoped you didn’t re-button your dress again, as he can take in the view of your breasts jiggling again. His eyes lingering slowly all over his favourite parts of your body, your neck, lips, neck, waist and hips . He noticed how nervous you are, there were fear in your eyes, you felt naked in his eyes because of his alpha-like eyes, giving you goosebumps.

You saw his pupils dilated not sure why.

-

After 15 minutes of awkward silence and Duncan forcing you to look at him as you were mopping the floor, you hoped the floor looks fine and that your boss Bob doesn’t get mad the next day.

You are not going to lie, you always wanted to be in his car. It was a dream car. You have seen them a lot in magazines, you don’t know much about cars but you do know this one, 1956 Chevy Bel Air, with a unique colour. White with purple around the edges, elaborate taillight and chrome highlights.

This was the first time you got close to the car, Your head started to hurt, you stood your ground, as you remember fragments of Xavier riding a similar car but in red.

Duncan realizes you might have remembered something…fuck fuck fuck, he hoped you didn’t remember what he didn’t want you to remember..

His hands grips your hand to make you snap out of it before you dig deeper into your suppressed memories.

“you alright there, doll?” Faking his concern you don’t know that, as he opens the door for you to hop in

“Ye..ah..” I am fine” you softly respond. His hand leaves your hand and goes to your back to shift you to get into his car.

You hop in his car, the car felt new, smell of leather with a mix of aged.. cigarettes smoked probably by Shepherd.

-

The car ride was silent.. he has an old song playing which makes it even more unbearable.

Midnight with the stars and you

Midnight and a rendezvous

Your eyes held a message tender

Saying "I surrender all my love to you

“How old is this song anyway?” You mention in annoyance with your right hand on the the rest that is placed near the door handle

Duncan has a wide smile on his face, happy that you are finally making a conversation with him.

“it’s from the 1930s I believe.....besides I don’t like the weird music you youngsters listen to nowadays..what was it Elvis Presley and The Beatles? They aint manly, jiggling all around with their bobby haircuts”  removing his hands from the steering wheel to motion with his hand the disapproval.

You giggle, and his heart skips a bit. Fuck. He couldn’t believe he made you giggle. Xavier always made you giggle and it frustrated him.

“The Beatles are swell….but James Dean has my heart. I loved his style in that movie, particularly his red jacket in Rebel Without a Cause.. it’s nifty.” You state swoonly as you gaze out of the window.

Midnight brought us sweet romance

I know all my whole life through

I'll be remembering you, whatever else I do

Midnight with the stars and you

He thought maybe that’s why you liked Xavier, he bought a similar red jacket as James Dean from the film several days after meeting you. Xavier also had that rebel vibe to him. He remembered his friend as well being a fan of Marlon Brando hence why he wanted to be an actor. To move out of the suburbs, to go to the dreamland..to Hollywood with you. You used to always want to be around him, he didn’t let the deputies patrol the drive in, since he always saw you there with him. He hated seeing you with his friend but he can’t help himself, he wanted to always be near you, see you and to one day feel your skin on his skin.

His jaw clenched and his brows furrowed as he starts to get jealous over a dead man.

You noticed his face seems boiling from rage as his hands gripped forcibly the steering wheel…you don’t know why. Scared to ask so you just continue gazing at the view in locomotion from the car window, as your sheer scarf around your head blowing from the impact of the window.

You loved the aftermath of the rain, the order after the chaos.

-

After a few minutes, The sheriff parks in front of your house. It’s 12 AM.

The house you lived in was basic, owned by your deceased father. It was a small house with a small balcony, it looks a little bit like a tree house. Wooden with no paint job. With a white door to enter the house, two small front steps and a small terrace, where you tend to read the Woman magazines.

He can’t wait for you to live in his house. Especially since he is a veteran who served in the Second World War, the government provided him with the perfect suburban American Dream home.

“Thanks for the ride, Sheriff.” you shyly state, about to open the door of his fancy car.

“Nah -ah -ah not too fast, you have to be punished.” He sings in a mocking tone with a daunting smirk.

You were nervously fidgeting, you don’t know why maybe because you are worried you might have done something that might be incriminating especially with your memory loss situation.

“What? What for?” you gullibly ask, looking up to him.

“You lied to me, you told me you had a doctor appointment when it fact you finish your shift late, kitten” , you see him remove the toothpick that was on his plump lips and put it on the ledge behind the steering wheel.

Oh thank God-

but why should I be punished for this? You didn’t know what to say to him so you just look at his eyes, waiting for any instructions.

He remarks that, he loves how obedient you are to him.

“Come closer, suga’r ” he taps his chest motioning you to come closer to him

What is the punishment? Is he going to spank me?

But we are not married why would he??

You timidly move close to him, refusing to make eye contact with him.

He lifts up your chin, bringing your face near his and your gaze to his.

“Kiss me or else I won’t let you leave this car”, Duncan whispers seductively as he shuts your window’s car seat and secures that your door is locked, trapping you in.

“..N…no..o” Duncan this isn’t right”,  you respond back.

As you shift back to your seat, Duncan aggressively grips your waist with his right hand and grips your chin with his left hand, forces you into a kiss and he goes deep and sensual, demanding access to your mouth but you instantly deny him entry.

This angers him, he aggressively yanks your hair, you gasp giving Duncan the chance to insert his tongue, he needed to taste your mouth.

You try biting his upper lip, he decides to lift up your weak body from your seat, manhandling you, without breaking from the kiss, you feel his strong hands spank you harsh. You whimper loudly.

This made his cock twitch, lust filling him at the thought of your spanked, bare ass turning into crimson-like imprints by his own hand; or by the paddle with his name engraved, so that his name can be imprinted on your ass…maybe next time.

He is waiting for you to make a bad move again so he can discipline you this way, even if you weren’t his bride yet.

You break the kiss gasping for air, “D..Duuncan..stop” you panted with watery eyes, trying to break away from his grasps, with your hands pushing his muscular chest. He didn’t take no for answer. Removing your hands out of the way with his claw-like hands and putting them around his broad back. He then forcefully dragged you onto his lap to straddle his thick thighs, “be a good girl now, you don’t want to be spanked now don’t you?”

He linked his lips with your lips with urgence and dominance. His tongue dancing with yours, wet and minty from the flavoured cigarettes he tends to smokes.

You felt one of his hands leave your waist and lingering underneath your skirt to cup your clothed sex.

A deep growl leaves his chest

He dreamt of touching this pussy for years. Your soft and squishy puffy lips felt so good on his rough manly hand.

You let out a soft gasp with eyes wide open in surprise, and broke away from the kiss to come up for air, a string of saliva connecting your lips.

Duncan grabs your chin, not giving you a second to breath and continues his assault on your lips and your clothed pussy. His middle finger going from your slit all the way to your swollen clit while his index and his forefinger are on your lips, touching you slowly with his hand. He wanted to make you wet before you left.

Your face flushed, you don’t remember if you reached that base with Xavier yet or not…he was your first boyfriend.

This felt forbidden, having his hands all around you.

You felt like you wanted to go to the bathroom, you were worried it might have been your period?

His tongue feels like hot water burning your skin. He claimed your mouth with intensity. You feel your knees weakened, Duncan filling all your senses.

You are so close to his body, your head in the crook of his neck, eyes closed, you feel his warmth and felt his heart beating quick. You put your hands on his golden badge situated on his right chest, reflected in the moon light, to try and push him away, but he didn’t budge.  

he left your assaulted mouth, hearing you panting heavily, and started licking at the column of your neck, his hand leaves your pussy and goes to your bared fleshed upper thigh, his hand moving in a reciprocating motion.  

You felt his beard tickling your left check and your neck, His hot soft grunts and warm breath sends shivers down your body and to your aching pussy

Not sure if it’s lust? Is this how you felt with Xavier ?

You bit down on your bottom lip trying to hold back a sob or was it a moan? 

“Duncan, I don’t feel good”

He knows he is making you feel good, you just need guidance that’s all.

“Why are you moaning then huh?” He chuckles, you felt his chest vibrating from his laughter, giving you goosebumps.

“give in baby, let me take care of you, that’s what Xavier would’ve wanted” he mutters darkly

your stomach twisting into a nervous knot, is this what Xavier would’ve wanted?

“Re-ally?”  You utter quietly with a blush heating up around your neck and cheeks.

He didn’t hear you. Thank God

he gets closer to your ear and whispers,“Knew you’d taste so sweet, just like candy, I wonder what’s the rest of you taste like hm?”

He aggressively bites your earlobe, his hot breath danced on your ear, “I bet just like those pancakes you serve me every morning, thick and creamy.” In a lustful tone.

You squirmed uncomfortably on his lap, felt something touch your stomach, he lets out a profound loud rumble, you look up at him out of shock, his wide blown eyes have now darken.

He looks at your lips that is now glistering and swollen from the kiss, he finally marked a part of you with his spit, he can’t wait to corrupt your other holes.

He decided to let go, this was enough to get him by in the meantime.

You felt his hand loosening around your waist. You take that chance to go back to your seat.

“I….I.. think you need to leave Sir, thanks for the ride”, your hands nervously twist with each other on your lap as you mentally facepalm yourself

“Sir” where did that come from?

Hearing you call him Sir made him groan silently and made his cock stir painfully against the zipper of his pants.

His already rigorous cock getting harder. Duncan trying to recollect himself and not fuck you for the first time in the backseat of his car.. he thought you deserved better than that..a shy innocent young server…probably a virgin.

Well he hoped you still were a virgin, he hoped that fucker didn’t take your virginity. he wanted to claim you for himself, every part of you.

“Why don’t you leave then birdie?”

You felt your thighs automatically clenched and your pussy tingling.

he never called you that, why did you like him calling you that?

Duncan saw your legs clamping together and took note of that. He also didn’t realize you can blush harder than that….you realized you were in his car….idiot

You got out of his car and you heard Duncan tsk out of annoyance, “where is your manners kitten?”

Whats up with him? You thought to yourself.. you thanked him before why do you have to thank him again?

You did not care anymore, you just wanted to back home without any problems and arguments

You huffed in annoyance, “Thanks for the ride Sheriff.”

You uncomfortably felt him linger at your figure as you walked back to your house.

He loves seeing you in motion.you move better than the waves of the ocean, smoothly and flawlessly. His steel blue eyes scanned you up and down, consuming in your body with hunger; that waitress dress in pale blue making you look even more innocent and seductive, an odd combination. He believes only you can do that, besides Marilyn Monroe.

He hoped he can see you from your window, with no curtains or an open curtain, so that he can watch you domestically, wondering how you look like touching yourself when you feel needy at night, if you did touch yourself.

-

You entered home safe and sound then the realization hit you…. how does he know where you live? You didn’t give him your address? But then again he is the sheriff, he probably has access to all that information but …does he know everyone’s address by hard?..you doubt that.  Maybe he visited you with Xavier?

-

After he saw you close the door, he paused for a second to relish the taste of you left on his lips and was about to put his key back to the ignition, until he saw something interesting.. that made him much harder than he already was… your arousal on the seat of his car.

He reclined his head back to the head restraint,

“Fuck.. you are trying to kill me doll?"

He was so tempted to taste your arousal… he felt like an animal as he brought his index to his seat that was tainted with your nectar and brought it back to his lips.

A hungry growl grumbled in his chest, “tastier than any fuckin candy”

His chest was full of pride, he was glad he made you wet. Not Xavier. Him

He opens his car’s compartment, there lies a stolen panty of yours covered in blood from that day, he didn’t want your fresh arousal going to waste, mixing it with your bloody panty.

After arriving home that day because of sexual urges, he relieved himself to thought of you for a second time, with his left hand holding your used panty from a year ago and his right hand unbuckling his belt, to reveal his throbbed cock. He smeared on his long length, the pre-cum leaking at the head.

Working on his cock, he brings your panty to his nose to sniff your dried blood blended with your womanhood scent, it smelled pure and sweet just like you. To make himself cum faster, he thought of you coming to his office one day during your break and cockwarming him on his lap while he finishes up paperwork, imagining your painful whimpers, you fidgeting in his lap because you are finding it hard to adjust to his cock because of how big he was, he imagines his cock bottoms out in your tight pussy, and how you wet walls clenches around his big cock.

“Dun..c.an, you are too big”, you whine with a giggle, shifting it into a squeal

“Call me sir, love it when you call me sir darlin’”,  he growls in your ear

“Sir”  , he imagines you whimpering through tears from his cock’s intrusion in your narrowed pussy

“Dollface, you are taking me so well, taking me all in” he praises you in a slightly low deep voice

A groan leaves his chest as he starts pumping his erected length harder, going from the bottom all the way to the top, twisting his tip, and then back down.

He envisions his pelvis rubbing against your mound and clit, your pussy being pink and wet engulfing his cock, while his right hand is feeling your soft and pulpous butt cheek. Your chest is heaving right in front of his predatory eyes, he decides to save the lustful images of him sucking your tits and nibbling your areola another time.

He imagines your voice in his ear, calling him sheriff, sir, daddy and begging him to start fucking you.

As he is about to reach his high, his thrusts gets sloppier with his sticky hands, chanting your name like a prayer over and over again.

Groaning louder as his cock twitches, moaning your name louder as ropes of white soaks his hand, and soaking your panty a bit with his cum.

-

Tired to change out of your clothes, you quickly go to your bed situated on the left side of your room. You feel the most peaceful in your room, the only time you don’t feel like someone is watching you despite the reoccurring nightmares ever since the incident.

With the floral window curtains. Roses and daisies on a shelf next to a concealed window, giving floral scents all around your room to help calm your nerves and help you fall asleep. At least that was what your doctor had recommended as repression memories if stayed long-term can cause emotional health problems like anxiety, depression and post-traumatic stress disorder.

You immediately shift to the deep slumber of sleep, out of exhaustion.

-

You wake up the next day 10:30 am. You slept well that day oddly enough, a peaceful sleep. You were happy since you haven’t had any nightmares the past few days. That happiness shifted when you realized the sensual incident that happened in public, and you don’t know how you will be able to work in the diner again, especially how small this town is. You will be the talk of the town again, because obviously that situation had to be with the fucking Sheriff.

At least for today, you had the day off today.  You told your Boss Bob that you have an appointment with your doctor at 1 pm, and since you closed the diner yesterday he decided to leave you off the hook.

You made yourself some coffee, and went to your closet that was attached to the wall to choose an outfit. You decide to go with a yellow pastel cardigan with a yellow gingham dress that has a spaghetti strap, wear some rouge lipstick and yellow pale eyeshadow with your hair tied into a pony tail.

You then passed sometime on TV watching Bewitched re-runs, and called Carissa at around 12:30 pm during her break to check in on her brother.

Your hands swirling around the cord waiting for someone from the diner to pick up.

Selma answers, “Hello, Welcome to Jukeburgers, the best milkshakes in town!, what can I do for ya today!” You could hear Venus by Franke Avalon playing and muffled voices in the distance, seemed surprisingly busy today.

You answer loudly, “hey Selma, it’s Y/N, can you pass the phone to Carissa!”

“Oh, Y/N how you been? I heard from Adam about what happened with the Sheriff, so y’all a thing now huh?… You went for the old powerful friend.” Selma teases, her laughing echoing from the speaker.

Your heart felt like it was going to burst from your chest, you knew this was going to happen. Trying to sound strong and not in the verge of crying, “Whatever Selma, pass the phone to Carissa” your fingers twisted the cord nervously.

Selma just snickers and you hear her shouting out Carissa’s name to grab the phone

“Hey Y/N?”

“Cari!, I wanted to check up on you with Richard… you didn’t get to tell me what exactly happened…. is everything okay?” You utter in a concerned tone, gripping the phone handle harder.

“yeah yeah, we had to go to the hospital again, he got beat up again, but he didn’t wanna tell me why”  you hear her voice quivering on the other side.

You know Carissa is worried about him, as well as about his town finding out about his lifestyle.

She continues,“ You know Richard, I don’t want him to get locked up again, especially this town…views anyone that goes to the mental hospital… as lunatics”, you hear her voice quivering on the other side.

You remember Richard telling you that the Sheriff bailed him out the first time so now he owes the sheriff twice.

Why twice?

Was it because of his relationship with Jim Mason?

Does his sister know?

To not worry his sister, he sometimes tells you things that she doesn’t know and you were like Carissa to him. His big sister.

You snap out of your thoughts when you heard Carissa sniffling.

You hated hearing your friend’s sadness echoing from her voice, hoping you were there to hug her. “ I am glad he is okay at least, I miss seeing Richie, I will talk to him whether I get the chance… and you are right.”

You thought about what Carissa thought.

This small boring town feeds on gossip. It made you worried about Xavier’s parents…finding out about yesterday’s incident. Between the last girlfriend of their deceased son and one of his friends in an intimate scene.

What doesn’t help is that Xavier’s parents invited you and Duncan for dinner next week.

“He actually didn’t come today its as if he knows you might-“

You look at the time while you were on the phone, It was 12:40. Your eyes widen out of anxiety of being late. You cut your friend off without letting her finish the sentence.

“Oh shoot Carissa, I have to go now, my appointment is in 20 mins!”

“I really hope all goes well with the appointment, I know I tell you a thousand times but…I don’t really trust that doctor to be honest with ya”  she admits assuredly

There was a small pause, because you didn’t really know how to  react to that. He was the cheapest Doctor that you can afford. You really had no choice.

Carissa breaks the awkward silence, “well let me know what happens, hope it goes well!” She suddenly sounds different..and hopeful. Makes you happy that you can at least end the call with her tone shifting positively.

“Yeah.. I hope so.. bye Cari” you say weakly with a soft smile

The line goes dead.

-

You have been going to the doctor 11 months ago, it was recommended by the doctor who helped with your bruises and aided your surgery, Matt Rogers. Since there was nothing particular wrong with your brain scans. He thought it might be something psychological, and he was right. Your neurologist doctor Dr.Barnes, said it is due to trauma that your memories are repressed. Dr. Barnes said it is possible to have specific memories of people, locations and events repressed when it is too hard to bear. He also said It is possible for memories of abuse that have been forgotten for a long time to be remembered….you hope it isn’t related to abuse.

You feel nervous going to his office, you are honestly terrified of the idea of regaining back your memories, what if you find something really disturbing about yourself? About Xavier? How did you get those bruises? Why were some of your clothes missing? Why going to the doctor all those months didn’t help as much? Actually at all?

His office is located not that far off from the the Police department, in the neurology department of Willowdale public hospital.

“Welcome back Miss Y/N, please have a seat” signalling you to take a seat in front of his desk.

It doesn’t help that his office has muted painted walls, changed from age and a faint smell of mouth wash.

“So Y/N, has there been any recent changes?”, He asked while he scanned over your file.

“I finally have a small fragment of Xavier..in my head..” You pinpoint to right side of your forehead.

He knew about your relationship with Xavier and that you don’t remember much of it. It's weird how your brain almost erased that incident and Xavier out of your head.

“Finally some great news, please tell me more!”  He lowered your files to give you his undivided attention

“I..I don’t remember the incident, or any memories that I shared with him, just that Xavier had a similar car to Sheriff’s car, but a red version of it.”

There was a torturing pause, you look at your doctor, he seemed lost in thought with brows hollowed and biting his lower lip, he seemed anxious while clicking his retractable pen

You felt tension in the air, when you mentioned the Sheriff..but why?

He breaks a heavy smile,“Well, that’s great news to hear, maybe being  around the Sheriff might be in your favour huh?” he chuckles with a Chesire’s smirk on his face

Oh fuck. He probably heard about the incident that happened yesterday.

Your cheeks turn red as you turn your head to the left side of the room, focusing on the wall full of his certificates and accomplishments.

“Oh sorry, Y/N, that was unprofessional..covering his face with his hand, and then went back to look at your files

"No it’s all good Dr.” You gulped and nodded.

He clears his throat and asks, “ any nightmares lately?”

You shake your head, “I haven’t had one the past few days”

He nods while holding your file, “Good, Good. Are you taking the medications regularly at the appropriate time?”

“Yes…. but I haven’t remember anything that much sadly, is it supposed to take that much of a time?” You ask confusedly

“the brain is a complex neurological system, you can’t force its responses.”  thrusting out his lips in displeasure

You feel like you are wasting not only your time but also your money. But he is a doctor that you can afford so you have no other choice?

“Ah, I see, well as long as I get some answers pretty soon.” You look down on his Brintons carpet.

You felt your chest tightened out of sadness, will you ever find out what truly happened?

“So far, we are not sure if it is going to be a short term memory or long term memory loss Y/N, so what you can do is keep taking the medications, and you will be eventually get better Miss Y/N”

You nod with a fake smile.

Do you have a choice?

-

Duncan knew you were at the doctor today, he wish he was able to follow you, but he had a huge workload today. He wanted to see what kinda doll-like outfit you wore today. He particularly liked you in pastel colours and plaid skirts.

It was his break now.  He was waiting a call from a certain someone.

Clock ticking, and his legs bouncing up and down waiting for that fucker to call.

Phone rings once

Duncan takes the call.

“Whats the update?”

“Hi Sheriff, he continues "Well, your sweet gal remembered something..”

Duncan eyes widen, and his hands grips the cord aggressively

“What does she remember?”, Duncan says in a threatening voice

“She remembers he had the red car….. the one you got rid of”

His Adam apple gulps out of nerve but he is relieved you still don’t remember what happened that day.

“You fucker, you said those medications well help her not remember a fucking thing-“ his voice getting louder.

“Hey, hey, hey calm down there sheriff, no need to lose your temper, she hasn’t remember anything the past goddam 11 months! And I haven’t even tried hypnos-

“Listen you fuckin cunt, if she remembers anything I swear to God- I will put you in jail for your multiple-“  he chastised with a harsh tone.

“Alright Alright! No need to flip your lid! I will see what I can do to not make her remember a thing”  

“You better, or else I will make you lose your fuckin job and lose your pitiful wife” Sheriff expresses in an authoritative sound and hangs the phone stridently.

The Doctor had multiple rape attempts done. Duncan was called several times because of noise complaints, hearing ladies crying or screaming in multiple occasions at night, in drive-ins, parks and carnivals. 4 out of 10 times, it was Duncan who stopped the rape from occurring but he didn’t bring it up to the police department, and instead used this knowledge in his favour and out of power to gain information about his girl, when he discovered that he was going to be her neurologist, and to use him to manipulate her medications or her so that she doesn’t remember a thing.

He will do anything to make you not remember. He is shaping you to be his perfect little housewife. He got this far and he is not going back.

some songs mentioned in the chapter

https://open.spotify.com/track/3dDtXviPnTfLUg111MuTic?si=0d4f2a331a244100 - Midnight and The Stars and You by Ray Noble

https://open.spotify.com/track/2uwP4d0aVAo90aet6UnaRK?si=dc41f548d3324c9d - Venus by Frankie Avalon

Taglist: @instincts-baby @9layerdevilfoodcake @beautyiswithinchaos  @langdons-pinkyring @bloodcoatedeclipse   @plymptxn-reborn @5am-cigarette  @anakinsslag @michaellangdonstanaccount  @rexellaaa @jimmason @devilish-hecate @angelicmichael  @car241 @kitty4860 @deliciousartpoliticsdean @sojournmichael @ritualmichael  @darkladyslytherin 

@luciahoneychurch @saamwilsonn  @chicaluna2410  @honeyblossom56 

@codysprincexx​ @thatbit5 @wasteland-babe

[angelkurenai]

Heaven on Earth - Dean Winchester x Reader (French Mistake/Soulmates AU)

Title: Heaven on Earth

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word count: 4,221

Warnings: Spoilers for 15x20 I guess

Prompt: Hey! I love your fics a lot. Especially the French mistake trope ones! I was wondering if you're taking requests cuz if you are I would so love a soulmate french mistake one for the finale.. had been something how you'd give it your own take. If not, it's totally okay I love your work regardless! <3

Imagine instead of dying and going to heaven, Dean is brought back to life by Jack who choses to give Dean the ending he deserves. An ending which he had been hoping to live through but never got the chance. An ending, a life, where he gets to meet his soulmate, you, whose name is written on his wrist and whom he never got to meet simply because you weren’t in the same universe. 

“Huh?” Dean breathed out and blinked several times, letting his eyes adjust to the change of scenery that came a little bit as a shock for all the different kind of reasons than anyone else would expect “Looks like I finally made it. Who would've thought?”

He let an easy smile rest on his lips as he took the scene around him, unfamiliar as it was there was still a great deal of hospitality that made his so comfortable in this lovely tiny living room. It wasn't familiar in any way that meant that he had seen it before but it was something he could very easily get used to, a place to love and call home. So much so that he had to ignore the pang in his chest when he remembered that he couldn't get to show it to his brother, not anytime soon that is. It was something that he would have to accept, no matter how hard it proved to be.

“Weird.” he mumbled, approaching a window and looking outside, the city although again not familiar, looking as calm and normal as it could be “I don't remember this one.”

The change of scenery while, yes, expected after one's death – and Dean was no stranger to the concept – did make him frown at what he was really coming face to face with. “Did they change things around here?”

He asked practically at nobody but that didn't mean that he wouldn't receive an answer “Well, to be fair I do think that chair was by the other side of the room. And those books, she must have moved them too.”

“Son of a-” Dean jumped in surprise and soon pressed his fist against his mouth to stop himself from continuing that sentence. Before he even had the chance to wonder if it was even right to swear in a place like this, all words died out in his lips when he turned to face the person that spoke up.

“Jack?” he whispered, almost in disbelief; his eyes widening.

“He-hello-” a small huff left Jack's lips when Dean closed the distance and enveloped the boy in a hug which he returned “Hello Dean, it's good to see you again. Though I don't believe it has been that long.”

“Yeah” Dean laughed “Way to rub it in my face how I fucked it up so soon huh?”

“You never... I never said you did, Dean.” Jack frowned slightly, tilting his head to the side “You've done great. You have done so in fact your entire life, even when it was exceptionally hard, even when other men would have given up. You kept going. And, yes, it might have been rather painful sometimes and exhausting and seemed never-ending, but it did. It ended. And this is what you get, this is your ending Dean. Peace. I-” Jack paused, looking around “I wanted to do some things differently but it is not all up to me, there are rules to the universe and how it works. Balance you see. So, I'm... sorry that Sam can't be here, not yet at least.”

“Alright kid, don't make me tear up already, will ya?” he joked but looked away when he felt the pang in his chest again. Heaven or no heaven, he was dead and Sam was alone. Miracle too. And oh that still hurt and it would hurt for a long while.

He cleared his throat and spoke up again, instead “Ah yeah, pretty much got that. But no, no Jack you've- you've done more than just enough. Not that there are a lot of options for the other side, but given everything this is really the best one so- thank you. This- this is good. Real good.” Dean looked at his friend, trying to convey as much of his gratitude as possible. For what he didn't know where to begin with, especially after everything that Jack had done but maybe more than anything it was about how Sam wasn't there with him. Not yet, and hopefully not before he'd lived a full and happy life.

“You're welcome. You deserve it.” Jack shrugged once more, smile bright on his face.

“So you uh you stayin' or will you be gone soon? This place is kind of... strange to me, but I'm sure there must be a kitchen somewhere. Could get you something?” he suggested, already making his way around the place while trying to figure out where the kitchen was. It was a small apartment though so it didn't take long for him to figure it out; Jack closely following along.

“Uhm no I won't be staying long, I just wanted to come and see if you're all settled, if you've rested and all that.” he shrugged softly.

“Well, I'm more or less dead, so hey-” he actually found himself chuckling and ignoring the frown that set on Jack's face “Can't get any more rest than that, right?” he opened the fridge and started looking for a beer, speaking again before Jack had the chance to do so and voice his concerns “So uh, love what you did with the place. What was it really again?” he pointed to the living room's direction as he closed the fridge, setting the pie and a beer in front of him.

“Oh uh-” Jack blinked, looking towards the living room “I told you, it wasn't really me. (Y/n). She must have moved around some of the furniture. I'm pretty sure the books too.”

He tried not to let it show. He prayed that it didn't show. He knew that that Jack wouldn't question it, but that didn't mean that it wasn't there. That it didn't happened. That his heart didn't do that same crazy jump and his hand, if not his entire being, shook at the mention of the name. Jack didn't even blink and as he brought the beer to his suddenly dry lips he thought that maybe he'd gotten the hang of it after practically a lifetime. A lifetime without a soulmate that is. And the thought slipped in his mind like it always did and he bit the inside of his cheek to get himself under control. Jack didn't know and Dean was far from in the mood to talk about another, if not the most, painful chapter of his life. Maybe... hopefully he had gotten better with the years and none of it showed.

“No uh that's not exactly what I meant, buddy. But never mind.” he could feel his throat closing, his body betraying him with that same unbearable grief only an empty side of the bed could bring, so he made sure to speak up before it got the best of him the way it usually did “You creating angels now too?”

“Angels?” Jack frowned before he shook his head, clearly confused “No, I- Not yet. But... (Y/n) is not an angel. She's human.” another soft shrug.

And there was the name again, for the second time in less than a minute. Too much too soon for Dean to take. He found himself sitting in one of the two only chairs in the kitchen. His hand found its way to his wrist, subconsciously rubbing over the ink that covered his skin ever since he was a teen. Maybe it brought some kind of comfort, got him the chance to feel like you were close by and offering him comfort yourself when in reality all he had was your name and, thank heavens, no line over it. He didn't know how he'd get to deal with the fact if he was ever to see a line. He was thankful that at least up until the moment he died the words were there, solid and beautifully curved to form your name, until the very last moment he was able to feel their warmth. Up until it all was enveloped in darkness. His life had not had many advantages or comforts, but knowing that you were safe (even if far away from him) was more than enough to make up for all of it.

Though that thought now brought about another storm of dangerous, if not painful, ideas. Ideas about how you were going to deal with his death. Dean was and would always be weak about you, even if he'd never met you. He didn't know how he'd take it and now he had to consider, think and imagine how you'd deal with a line over his name on your wrist.

The mere thought made his heart twist painfully in his chest quiet similar but also so different to any other time. To hurt you was the last thing he'd ever want. And knowing that he had inevitably caused that, well, it would make resting ten times more hard.

“Humans making changes around heaven, wow. Jack you're really stepped up your game up here.” he went for nonchalant and hoped it worked.

“Humans...” Jack narrowed his eyes with a tilt of his head before it seemed to dawn on him and his eyes widened softly “Dean... you're right, there have been changes in heaven. I felt like it was time to move on, that it was time for things to be done different by someone who cares. By someone who wouldn't abandon it all and not care to listen. It's exactly why I asked for Castiel's help, anyway.” the name caught the hunter's attention and he did pause to frown but Jack didn't stop his words, he kept talking “We changed things so that heaven wouldn't about reliving your favorite memory. It would be simply about living. Living on forever and about to make new memories.”

“So that's what it was huh? And here I wondered when-”

“B-But this is not about any of it! That's what you don't get.” Jack said fast enough, cutting Dean off who blinked in surprise.

“Do I have to ask what it is or will you just go off rambling again? You seem to be on a roll today.” he took a sip of his beer, his lips pulling into a smile that he could barely feel in all honesty.

Just following along some very familiar, painfully familiar, steps. Making small talk about anything and everything that his mind could come up with, was one of them. Anything as long as his treacherous heart stopped with the painful beats. But the echo of your name in his head didn't seem to want to die out and he had to try harder.

That is if Jack didn't-

“It's simple.” he smiled sweetly “(Y/n).”

“A-Alright-” his voice shook and he hated himself for letting it show, but he was a weak man deep down and there was only so much he could take “Listen buddy. I don't know what's happened with you or who this-” he choked on his words.

Oh dear, he choked on his words. That had not happened to him in years, and yet here he was. Unable to say the name of the soulmate he had never met. Unable to say the name of the woman whom he dreamed about every night, coming up with you'd look like, what you'd be like in and out. He choked because while it has been a long time, he could still not fight the longing or ache in his soul whenever h heard the name. And best, or maybe worst, of all is that he couldn't fight the hope that rose in his chest. So many cases, so many places visited and whenever he heard that name he both prayed and feared it was you.

So many times he got his hopes up. And so many times all those hopes turned into mere dust, slipping through his fingers. Each time more painful than the previous. Leading, ultimately, to a life without you.

Really, he could only take so much after hearing your name so many times in only a few seconds. He just couldn't do it to himself, couldn't bring himself to say it. He took a deep breath in and clenched his fists “I don't know who that chick is, or what you've really trying to do here. I'm just thankful for everything you've done because this-” he looked around him with a fond smile “This place is more than good for him. It is, both literally and figuratively, heaven.”

“Well, that's just it.” Jack tilted his head to the side “This... is not heaven.”

“Oh yeah? Well, it sure as heck doesn't seem like hell either. Unless they did some general uh renovations?” he asked, almost playfully, as he looked around with a nod of his head “Oh yes, lovely color on that wall right there. Goes well with the-”

“(Y/n) picked it.” Jack shrugged, the name effectively managing to close Dean's mouth shut - and he almost glared at the boy for thinking that he could be doing it on purpose at this point “And this-” he turned back to Dean, face still serious “Is not hell either.”

Oh really now? Then, it does seem like pur-

“No, Dean.” Jack said firmly, cutting him off “You- you're not dead.”

“Uh you sure about that buddy? Cause I think I can remember pretty vividly that I got impaled. Like, Olaf from Frozen style and all.” Dean scoffed a small laugh, taking a sip of the beer. And boy, was he dead, but that still tasted good enough.

“Well, yes but actually no. See, you were on the brink of death but that doesn't mean you have really died. I saw it. I saw it all, I was there and kept you alive or, well, almost-dead long enough for Sam to... give you a hunter's funeral and then for me to put you back together, to heal every would and bring you here.” a smile slowly spread on his lips “This other world. To live in. To make new memories as I told you.”

“What- What's that supposed to mean?” Dean's voice got more gruff as realization start to dawn on him that Jack was very much serious about all of it “And, anyway, didn't destroy every other world there was?”

“When I brought everyone back on your world, I- I was able to do the same with every other world he had destroyed. Including this one. Dean, I mean-” he laughed softly “Did you really think, that after everything you'd been through, after everything you'd given for that world, after all the people you'd saved that I- I would just be another version of Chuck that let that be your ending? You deserve this. You deserve to live this life, a life where you have all you really want. I mean Sam is not here, sure, but soon I hope I will be able to come here too.

“Hold up. You really mean to say that I- I'm- I'm alive?” Dean frowned deeply when Jack nodded “Then wh-what the hell am I doing here? Why the fuck am I not back home? What kind of shitty game-”

“Because you can't. It's- It disrupts balance. Anything hat dies must stay dead, that's a rule that has been broken too many times and we couldn't bear it anymore. However, here-” he looked around him with a smile “You can be alive. And you can live a long, happy life. Without regrets.”

At this point Dean had every reason to think the kid was doing it on purpose. First mentioning your name so often and now, now this was not just pouring alcohol into an open would but rather tearing it open even more. Because yes, he had many regrets in life. Far more than he could ever count. Some of them he was or could get to overcome easily so. But his biggest ones? The ones related to you would always be there, though, and they would always haunt him worse than his nightmares.

“Why here then? What does this world have that I could possibly want so much as to-”

But before Dean could ever get to complete his sentence, let alone get a reply - one that wouldn't really cause him a heart attack - the door burst open with a loud thud. Dean jumped in his place, a frown on his face and worry starting to slip into his very own bones when Jack rose from his seat with a smile. But before he could even bring himself to question it, he moved away from his seat and made his way to the door with only a few long strides. Only to be met with the sight of one too many bags from the market, filled to the brim with food and other essentials, and the sound of an annoyed -but entirely adorable if he could say so -grumbling and cursing.

“Bloody idiots. Ignorant people. Fucking idiocy more infinite than the whole damn universe. Worse than the pandemic itself.” he saw you pull the mask you were wearing away angrily, only to look more cute in Dean's eyes and alright, a bit more than just cute because he was not dead after all and if did run into you anywhere else he would gladly try his luck, but this was far from an ideal situation, especially as you-

“No wonder Chuck would wanna snap those away. Heck wouldn't I-” but your words were cut off as a screamed ripped through your lips the second you closed the door and turned towards them, probably for the first time realizing they were there and as expected the bags you were holding fell from your hands.

“What the fuck?!” you yelped, hand pressed over your chest as you stared at him with wide eyes.

“Whoa whoa it's ok, calm down. Calm down. We're not gonna hurt you. It's alright, we-”

“Calm down!? You almost gave me a freaking heart attack dude! Because when I said that I would die a happy woman if I were to meet Jensen Ackles even once after that finale, the scenario of chapter one of a bad soulmates fanfic is not what I had in mind! You- You-” you looked around after trying to take a few calming breathes “You just broke into my apartment.” you almost whispered in disbelief “Have you gone insane, man? Who the hell is 'we'?”

“Oh, right. She can't see me.” Jack told him only afterwards and Dean rolled his eyes at his friend.

“Oh great, thanks for the heads up, buddy.” he muttered to his friend. He shook his head before dragging a hand down his face. He then looked at you, finally taking a good look at you and trying not to let his confusion show at the weird flip his heart did “Listen, I'm not crazy, I swear. I'm sure this may look very confusing and hard to explain but I can assure you that once you hear me out, everything will make sense. Just- just don't scream again, yeah? Or freak out or anything.”

“Nah it's cool. I mean why would I freak out? Because the actor I, more or less, look up to and have been a fan of for years is standing in the middle of my crappy and messy living room, dressed as my favorite character on top of that. Without any previous warning or time for me to prepare. Yeah, pff-” you scoffed, waving your hand “Why would I freak out? I can be calm. It's not like this is some kind of dream coming true, anyway. I can be the definition of calm this moment. I'm not freaking out.”

“...You're freaking out.” he said after barely three seconds. Letting you take a few deep breaths of air to calm yourself down, because apparently you needed it. Even if he didn't understand why.

“I'm definitely freaking out.” you admitted, nodding at him as you pressed your lips in an adorable pout which was too distracting if he could admit so to himself after blowing out some air.

“Better now?” he asked hopefully and you held his gaze for a few seconds before shaking your head.

“Definitely not. This might take an hour or two. Or maybe a month? Just- just to let it all settle in you know? I'm dreaming, I definitely must be dreaming. You're just a dream huh? Come on, just admit it. It will be easier to accept. I mean-” you shrugged, looking away with a shrug as you mumbled, mostly to yourself “Wouldn't be the first time.”

“I'm- Sorry, what?” he asked after a few seconds. Maybe Jack was right, this was better than heaven.

“Nothing.” you shook your head fast, and in a far too adorable way “Nothing. I didn't say a thing.” you cleared your throat and looked away from him, letting out a sigh as Dean bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from grinning like an idiot. Instead, let himself chuckle at your too-adorable ramble that followed “This is- this is insane. If I knew that 2020 would end with me meeting Jensen Ackles then I would have never judged its ability to pull the craziest shit on us.”

“Je- Who?” Dean blinked a couple times though, before letting out a long sight and shaking his head “Really?” he just looked straight at Jack, not caring how crazy he looked at that moment “But of all those worlds, it had to be this one? You know what buddy? Maybe I'd have rather stayed dead.”

“No you wouldn't. I know. So do you.” Jack said with a far-too-knowing smile that made Dean narrow his eyes at him.

“Yeah” you dragged the word, effectively getting his attention - not that it was that hard for you “Sure. Not crazy at all.” you chuckled.

“Not crazy, sweetheart.” he shrugged “And certainly not Jensen Ackles, sorry to disappoint.”

Oh yeah? Then if you're not Jensen who are you? Dean Winchester?” you raised an eyebrow, smile playful on your lips and far too distracting for Dean, but there was no way he would dare admit it.

Confusion passed through his eyes before his interest was peaked “Bingo. You couldn't be more right, sweetheart.”

“Aha sure.” you still chuckled, lips pulling into a smirk that he liked more than he should already “There are cameras set around here, right? Like, of course there are. Is this some kind of goodbye gift though, to the fans for the finale and what not?” you started looking around for said cameras. He momentarily got distracted by the distance that only lessened between the two of you as you moved around him.

He made sure to snap out of it though before he made too much of a fool of himself “Oh don't know what cameras you're talking about but this- it ain't that. It's more complicated than that. As in-” he shrugged “I went on a hunt with Sammy, I died, he burned the body, Jack here whom you cannot see put my back together again am guessing kinda like a human puzzle, stuffed my soul back inside and dropped my ass on your living room without a warning. So, really, it's just as much of a shock to me as it is to you.”

“So you're keeping it up huh? Alright then. I'll go along with it. I am guessing that since I am also part of this story, I should probably introduce myself hm?” you smirked and he shrugged, playful as well.

“Well, it wouldn't be bad anyway. Until you believe me, that is. And Figured I should put a name to the beautiful face.” he tried to seem casual about it but he was anything but “Dean Winchester, pleasure to meet ya. And sorry for crashing in the middle of your apartment like this.”

“Wonderful.” but instead of reaching for his extended hand to shake, you grabbed a grocery bag and handed it to him cheekily “Help me place all these stuff in their place and I might just forgive you.” you shrugged grabbing some of the bags and making your way to the kitchen, only to pause when you realized he wasn't following “What? Saving people, hunting things, the family business, ain't it? Well, there is no monster here to hunt but oh could I use some saving from the terribly exhausting job of cleaning these.”

“You- for real?” he gaped at you in disbelief.

“Hmh. Couldn't be more real. Take the rest, will you?” you grinned at him and started walking towards the kitchen again, leaving him to stare after you and maybe take a few seconds to bathe in the warmth you laughter brought to him. Dean only shook his head, laughing to himself as well before started to grab the rest of the bags, noticing how you'd left the heavier back on purpose.

But it was during moments like this, when he really felt like there would be no troubles and no more thoughts that the world pulled the most cruel kind of jokes on him. And instead of calm, his world fell apart... or in this case fell into perfect place. For the first time now, in his entire life.

“Oh and for you help, a reward is in accord. Name's (Y/n) (Y/l/n), and it is a pleasure.”

Only for Jack to add in a low voice barely three seconds later and verify each and every thought and fear and hope running through his veins in that moment.

“Because this world has the one that can give you the real heaven, on Earth. Your soulmate.”

[eliemo]

The Incident- Part 1

Summary: Sometimes, it’s dangerously easy to spiral. 

TWs: Panic attacks, mentions of past abuse, some blood

Part Two

Masterpost

“Virgil!”

He didn’t even know what he’d done to warrant so much fury and disgust in the scream. It was enough to block out all rational thought, ice cold panic and fear overwhelming despite its awful familiarity. 

He didn’t even get a chance to apologize before he was hit, the hand swinging forward and finding purchase against his cheek, striking hard enough to send him stumbling backwards, throbbing pain shooting through his skull. 

“God, you idiot! How are you this stupid?” 

Virgil tried to get away, confusion and terror crashing down until he couldn’t breathe, chest and throat too tight to get out any of the desperate pleas and apologies on his tongue. 

He couldn’t even make out who was talking, where exactly they were, how many people he’d made angry this time. 

There was a hand in his hair, grabbing, twisting and yanking him forward, ignoring his cries as it threw him into the cold, hard floor. 

“Please,” he choked out, his voice agonizingly small, too weak to hear. “Pl-please I'm sorry, I’m sorry--”

“Just shut up! This is why we have to keep doing this to you! Because you’re too stupid to understand how to do anything right!” 

There was another slap when he tried to raise his head, somehow worse than the first, and he felt something sharp dig into his arm, vision clearing just enough for him to make out the pile of glass shards he’d been shoved into. 

“All you do is hurt Thomas, and we have to do this to clean up your stupid mess! Imagine what the light sides would do if they learned just how useless you are!” 

The voice was furious, cold and mocking, each cruel word accompanied by another merciless strike, the pain quickly becoming unbearable, Virgil left to curl in on himself with the glass digging into his skin. 

And then, in a sudden twist of warped reality, the pain vanished and Virgil found himself curled up in the blankets of his own bed, trembling violently and drenched in sweat. 

But the ache from the beating still lingered, nothing more than fading phantom pain, but it made his heart twist with emotions he didn’t quite know how to identify. 

It had been a while since he’d had a nightmare that vivid, when the pain and panic bled into the real world, leaving him weak and terrified.

He’d worked up the courage to go to Logan about his recurring nightmares a couple of weeks ago, and the two of them had worked out several techniques to at least reduce the frequency of the dreams. 

It worked, to an extent, but it couldn’t get rid of them completely. He’d just gotten unlucky tonight. 

He shuddered, pushing himself up just enough to glance at the clock, collapsing back down with a groan. It was barely four in the morning- no one would be up for at least another three hours and there was no way he was waking someone up over a stupid dream. 

It wasn’t even anything particularly upsetting. Nothing he hadn’t handled before. Just a cruel reminder of a memory he’d lived through so many times before, vile words he’d heard too many times to count. 

It was fine. He just...he just needed to get a hold of himself, take a few deep breaths and stop crying. 

But it was no use. Not when he was alone, hunkered down in the dark, no prying eyes or pitying stares forcing him to hold back. 

The first sob broke from his chest, cruel, biting words still ringing in his ears, scream after scream always directed at him, always angry, and the dam broke. 

Virgil buried himself under his blanket and pressed his face into his pillow, hoping beyond hope it was enough to muffle the pathetic, wrenching sobs he couldn’t help to hold back. 

The last thing he needed was someone hearing him. He didn’t want them to see that after everything they’d done, all the “progress” they thought he was making, he was still just as broken as he was when they’d started. That a simple dream could revert him back to a trembling, terrified mess. 

It was stupid. He was safe now and he knew that. He hadn’t deserved it and he was...working on believing that. 

But it wasn’t going to happen again. That was what mattered. He had his family now- his family who had shown him over and over again that he had no reason to be afraid, so there was no reason his stupid brain should be getting this worked up over a bad dream. 

It wasn’t even a particularly bad memory in comparison. It was fairly routine for how things had been back then. 

He might have ended up crying himself back to sleep, or he may have simply zoned out without realizing, his head too fuzzy to know for sure. Either way, by the time sunlight began to filter through his window, Virgil was shaky and exhausted, the room tilting dangerously when he raised his head off the soaked pillow. 

He thought he heard distant voices from out in the hallway, but it was impossible to make anything out over the pounding of his own head. 

He needed coffee. And, if he was feeling brave enough, maybe a hug. 

Virgil forced himself out of bed, legs a bit unsteady as he landed on the carpet and shuffled to the bathroom, content with the idea of throwing icy water in his face and hastily putting on some eyeshadow to cover up the fact that he’d been crying. 

He must not have done a very good job, because as soon as he made his way into the kitchen, wrapped up in his hoodie to hide the fading tremors, Patton looked up from brewing the coffee with gentle concern. 

“Morning, kiddo,” he said, smiling past the worry. “How’d ya sleep?” 

“Fine, I guess.”

Patton frowned but didn’t push, instead stepping aside to allow Virgil access to the coffee pot, an easy, early morning silence filling the kitchen as the moral side began gathering things together for breakfast. 

Virgil found himself holding his breath as he got his mug out of the cabinet, silently pleading for his hands to stop shaking. He couldn’t handle dropping anything right now. He knew it would be ok if he did, knew Patton wouldn’t be angry, but…

“Imagine what the light sides would do if they learned just how useless you are!” 

He squeezed his eyes shut, setting his mug on the counter and willing himself to just calm down. 

They knew. They knew him, knew what had happened to him, and they...they loved him. For some unfathomable reason, they loved him. 

They wouldn’t hurt him. He didn’t have to worry. It was over, it was over, it was--

“Kiddo?” 

Virgil’s eyes flew open, Patton’s voice pulling him from his spiral, and he realized with a start that he had stopped breathing entirely. 

“Sorry,” he said automatically, and then immediately flinched back. He was supposed to stop doing that, they’d told him to stop apologizing and he could never seem to listen. “S-sorry, I just...I- do you think you could...I mean, you don’t have to but I was just--” 

“Virgil,” Patton cut him off, moving slowly as he rested a hand on Virgil’s arm. “What do you need?” 

It was stupid. It was beyond stupid especially considering this was Patton. He should just be able to ask, but he’d been extra needy lately and he wanted them to think he was doing better- and what if they thought he was being annoying-- 

Virgil took a breath, shutting down his own anxious thoughts. Nightmares made him extra paranoid. 

“Could I just...h-have a hug?” 

“Oh, honey.” Patton’s features instantly softened, worry morphing to a mixture of sadness and relief, and before Virgil could even blink he was being pulled into the familiar comfort of warm arms. “Of course, baby. You don’t have to be afraid to ask.” 

And Virgil was absolutely not going to start crying again. It was barely seven in the morning, he wasn’t going to do that to Patton, he put the moral side through too much as it was. 

But then Patton’s hand was cupping the back of his neck, idly running his fingers through Virgil’s hair, and there was absolutely no holding back the pathetic choking sound as he desperately tried to force back the sobs building up in his chest. 

“I’m here,” he said, Patton’s voice barely above a whisper. “I’m right here, honey. What’s going on?” 

“Nothing,” he muttered, quickly realizing that wouldn’t cut it. “Just...had a long night. It’s fine.” 

“Nightmare?” 

He thought about denying it, feeling ridiculously stupid and childish, but there really wasn’t a point. Patton wouldn’t ridicule him, and he’d already lost what little composure he had. 

But he didn’t entirely trust his own voice right now, not wanting to break down completely in the middle of the kitchen, so he just nodded against Patton’s shirt. 

The other side pulled away slightly, hands still gently clutching Virgil’s shoulders, and the anxious side warily met his warm gaze. 

“I’m sorry, kiddo,” Patton said, the furthest thing from judgmental or annoyed. “You wanna talk about it?” 

And he didn’t. At all. Because it wasn’t just a stupid dream- it was a memory. It had happened, many many times before, and talking about it would just make it more vivid in his mind. He just wanted to forget. 

“Nothing to talk about,” he mumbled instead. “Just...same old stupid stuff.”

“It’s not stupid,” Patton said, but mercifully didn’t push. “You look exhausted...how about we set you up on the couch with a blanket until breakfast?” 

Virgil nodded again, allowing Patton to carefully take his hand and guide him into the living room and onto the couch. A part of him wished he could have just stayed wrapped in the hug for the rest of the morning, but he knew it was a selfish request. Everyone had things to do today, Virgil included. 

Besides, the weight of the blanket around his shoulders was nice, and the quiet, mindless noise of the television created a welcome distraction from his thoughts. 

Logan came down the stairs just a few moments later, looking a bit more disheveled than usual, offering Virgil a quick and quiet greeting before disappearing into the kitchen, probably in search of coffee. 

Roman followed soon after, still dressed in his pajamas with his hair a mess. Virgil expected him to follow Logan straight into the kitchen like he did every morning, so it was a bit of a surprise when the Prince was suddenly standing in front of the couch. 

“Scoot over, J-Delightful.” 

Virgil blinked, momentarily frozen. “What?” 

“It’s early and I’m cold,” Roman complained. “So scoot over or I’m commandeering your lap.” 

Virgil decided not to mention that he really wouldn't mind the latter option, instead moving over just enough for Roman to fit, making sure there was enough room for both of them under the blanket. 

Apparently making room on the couch didn’t even matter, because in mere seconds Roman was completely sprawled out, somehow ending up with his head in Virgil’s lap and doing a very poor job of pretending to be asleep. 

Virgil didn’t know if he was still visibly distressed from his dream and obviously in need of physical contact, or if Roman just had impeccable timing. 

Either way, he didn’t exactly have any plans to move. 

The rest of the morning passed relatively peacefully. Logan had been up late working on scheduling and had woken with a headache, so the volume was kept low, the conversation quiet and lighthearted. 

It also, thankfully, kept a majority of the attention off of Virgil, although he was certain nothing could stop the worried glances Patton kept throwing his way. Worried glances that were entirely unnecessary. 

Yeah, he’d had a bad night and an unfortunately vivid dream. But that didn’t mean he needed to be watched over like he was about to break at any second. 

But no one put him on the spot, no one asked any questions, like they knew he could shatter under too much attention right now.

 It was just a stupid dream, already rapidly fading. He was safe. 

And then Roman dropped a glass on the floor. 

It didn’t even break, just cracked a bit along the side, but the sudden noise was enough to shock the room into sudden silence.  

Virgil jumped, guilt and fear instinctually curling up in his gut despite the fact that he hadn’t even done anything. And he knew- he knew that even if he had it wouldn’t be a problem. 

But then Logan was sighing, shoulders tense like he was angry, whirling around to face the Prince’s sheepish smile. 

“Dammit, Roman,” he snapped, unexpectedly curt. “Can’t you be more careful?” 

Roman blinked, momentarily frozen where he was bent over to pick up the fallen cup, for once clearly at a loss for a retort. 

“Language please,” Patton spoke up, and Virgil wanted to shrink away from the nervous glance he sent. “Let’s be a bit more gentle, ok? Roman didn’t mean to- there’s no reason to get angry over an accident. Right?” 

Logan seemed to notice his mistake before Patton even finished, straightening up and flashing Virgil an apologetic look before turning back to Princey. 

“I...apologize, Roman,” he said carefully. “Genuinely. I am not angry, I simply...am still nursing a bad headache and lost my temper for a moment.” 

Roman had already gotten over his shock it seemed, picking up the glass and fixing the crack with a wave of his hand, offering Logan an easy smile. 

“Don’t sweat it, Teach,” he said. “I should’ve been more careful. I think the dishes are balanced all weird.” 

“Well, we will...have to look into fixing that when we have time.” 

The easy silence was back, just for a moment as Roman filled the now intact cup with orange juice and made his way back to the kitchen table. 

“You don’t have to do that, Logan,” Virgil muttered, staring intently down at his eggs and toast. “You don’t...I’m fine.” 

“I know,” Logan said earnestly. “But whether or not you are in the room, Virgil, anger is not an appropriate reaction. You can be a...welcome reminder of that. So...thank you.” 

And Virgil had absolutely no idea what to say to that, but Patton was smiling and Roman looked relieved, so he managed a tiny nod and a timid smile of his own before turning back to his breakfast.  

It was a...surprisingly nice thought, he realized, and one he hadn’t really ever allowed himself to consider. That he could possibly be helping them even half as much as they helped him. 

He couldn’t really wrap his head around how being a pathetic mess all the time could possibly be of benefit to anyone, but...but Logan didn’t just say things for the hell of it. 

Things should have been fine after that. 

Virgil’s hands had thankfully stopped shaking by the time they cleared the table and washed the dishes, a hot shower helping clear the last of the fog from his mind. 

By mid afternoon Roman had disappeared into the imagination with colorful goodbyes and promises to return with stories for days, and Patton had teamed up with Virgil to convince Logan to let himself nap for at least a few hours. 

As much as Logan needed the rest, Virgil couldn’t help the tight, anxious feeling that curled around his chest when Patton was summoned to assist Thomas, likely to be gone for the next few hours at least. 

That left Virgil alone in a far too quiet mindscape, left to his own devices for a late lunch. He wasn’t particularly good at cooking, not to mention how stressed it made him when doing it on his own, but he didn’t want to risk the moral side’s disappointment at finding out he hadn’t bothered to eat again. 

(Patton had discovered Virgil’s habit of skipping meals fairly early on, looking strangely horrified when the anxious side explained he wasn’t used to have multiple meals a day, usually just sneaking snacks at convenient times)

But he was fairly sure he could manage putting together a sandwich without messing up too horribly. And maybe, if it turned out, he could leave something in the fridge for Logan in case the other side woke up before dinner. 

He should have been paying closer attention. That was his job, after all. He was anxiety, he needed to search for every possible threat, every way something could go wrong, every way to prevent everything from falling apart.

But he wasn’t even thinking, even after what had happened this morning, letting his tired mind wander as he opened the cabinet and reached for a glass. 

It should have been fine. He never would have been able to be near anything glass if his grip wasn’t steady, always plagued with too many paranoid thoughts. 

His fingers had just brushed the glass when there was a sudden thud from upstairs. Nothing out of the ordinary- probably just Roman returning from his realm or Logan waking up- but of course it made Virgil flinch and jump backwards, knocking over a second cup as he moved, both plummeting to the ground too fast for him to even try and react. 

The shelf was higher than the one Roman had reached for, and in the blink of an eye both cups had shattered, the deafening crash leaving behind a sea of glass shards littering the kitchen floor. 

For a horrifying moment, Virgil couldn’t move. Everything had gone cold, silent, his eyes glued to the scattered glass, briefly wondering if this was all just another cruel dream. 

 “You’re too stupid to understand how to do anything right!” 

The voice snapped him out of his daze, old memories and almost forgotten panic rushing back all at once, screams and threats and disgust being hurled mercilessly… 

It had been an accident. Just a stupid mistake. It was ok, right? They told him it would always be ok. They told him…

“How are you this stupid?” 

He flinched, digging his nails into his hands as he felt himself begin to tremble. He’d made so many mistakes. Too many. And he’d never actually broken anything before. 

He wasn’t Creativity, he couldn’t just snap his fingers and put it all back together. He’d made a mess. He’d ruined everything and someone was going to be mad, someone would end up...end up…

Virgil dropped to his knees, forcing his shaking hands to move, working to gather all the glass into a pile. He didn’t have time to find a broom. If he cleaned it up quickly, covered up his mistake well enough, then maybe they would never find out. He could get away with it. 

It was risky. He’d tried it before, and lying about mistakes always led to something worse. But he had to try. He couldn’t...he couldn’t go through any punishments right now. 

“God, you idiot!” 

There was so much glass. How had no one heard the crash? 

“You break everything you touch, don’t you see that?” 

He ruined it. He ruined it again. They were right, he couldn’t do anything correctly. He’d been safe, he’d been trying so hard to be good, and look what he’d done. 

“Useless!” 

“God, you’re pathetic, Virgil.” 

“All you do is hurt Thomas! Why shouldn’t we hurt you too?” 

The voices overpowered his own labored breathing, drowned out the rest of the world, memory after memory replaying over and over again, hatred and fear trying to choke him. 

But it didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered. All he needed to do was clean up the glass, make sure it looked like he had never stepped foot anywhere near the kitchen, and then he would be safe. They wouldn’t have to hurt him. 

Virgil wasn’t even sure who he was afraid of at this point. 

It took longer than it should have since his hands were shaking so badly, but he didn’t stop, gathering up as much of the shards as he could into his hands and dumping them into the trash can, ignoring the way the glass cut his skin, slicing open his palms. 

He could worry about that later. He could barely feel the pain underneath his rising panic, and it would be nothing compared to what would happen if he was caught. 

He didn’t stop, fumbling blindly for the remaining shards, stopping only to wipe the floor with his sleeves when his blood started to drip onto the tiles. He refused to let himself cry, even as his vision blurred, knowing the noise would only attract attention. 

It was taking too long. He was too slow, and any second now someone would walk in and see what he’d done, what he was trying to hide. 

But then...then he couldn’t feel any more glass, just smooth, ice cold tile beneath now blood soaked fingers, and something close to relief wormed its way up to the surface, past the panic and the pain. 

The stinging in his hands had increased to a fiery agony at this point, the pain pulsing and stabbing like tiny knives, blood flowing down his arms and soaking into his hoodie, but it didn’t matter. His mess was gone. He could get away with this. 

Now if only he could stop shaking like a coward and find a place to lie low. 

Virgil covered his hands with his sleeves (the last thing he wanted was to get his blood everywhere) and used the counter to drag himself to unsteady feet. 

He couldn’t panic, couldn’t let it all set in. Not yet. Not until he was safe. 

There were sounds coming from the living room, and Virgil quickly stuffed his hands in his pockets, biting back a hiss of pain and quickly making his way out the door. 

Patton was in the living room fiddling with the tv remote, and Virgil suddenly realized he had no idea how long he’d spent cleaning up the kitchen. 

Had someone noticed he wasn’t around? Had anyone been close enough to hear? Did they suspect something? Did someone already know? 

“Hey, kiddo!” Patton greeted, cheery and welcoming as ever, but Virgil felt something freeze in his chest, ice cold fear wrapping around his heart and squeezing-- 

“H-hey, Pat.” He couldn’t panic. Not now. He couldn’t hurt Thomas, couldn’t let them see how weak he still was. He could hold out. 

“Logan’s feeling better, but he’s already gone back to work,” Patton continued, tossing the remote on the couch and sitting down. “I’m gonna start dinner in about an hour, that alright with you?” 

Virgil blinked, hearing the blood squelch beneath his fingers as he twisted his hands into fists, desperately trying to keep himself from shaking. 

He knew. Patton knew. There was no way he didn’t, no way he wasn’t already angry. He was just waiting to see if Virgil would lie so the punishment could be worse. 

He needed to get out, get away, get as far away as possible and hide until he wasn’t angry anymore-- 

“Actually I, uh, I’m not feeling great,” he forced himself to say, hoping it was believable. “I don’t think I’m...I’m gonna be hungry. I might just go lay down.” 

“Oh, sweetie I’m sorry.” He moved to stand, stopping when Virgil couldn’t hide how his shoulders tensed. “Do you...need anything?” 

Virgil was already moving towards the stairs, shaking his head, ignoring the strange look Patton was watching him with. The pain in his hands was growing unbearable and it was getting harder and harder to breathe, memories of pain and yelling he suddenly couldn’t convince himself wasn’t coming. 

“I’m good,” he said. “I-I’m fine, I’ll just be in my room.” 

And then he was gone, stumbling up the stairs before Patton could say anything else, breaths now coming in shallow, trembling gasps. 

His hoodie pockets were soaked by now, hands sticky and soaked and somehow still bleeding, but right now he needed to figure out where he could go to be out of everyone's way, stay hidden until the anger faded and his punishment lessened. 

Roman was apparently still gone and Logan’s door was closed, but Virgil could hear the faint sound of muffled music coming from inside the logical side’s room, carefully sneaking past without a sound. 

He made it to his own bedroom, pausing outside his door with a shaky hand hovering above the doorknob, blood still coating his fingers. 

What was he thinking? He’d had too many failed attempts at hiding in his room, yelling and banging outside his door, their fury overwhelming as he was grabbed and dragged away from his bed…

He backed away from the door, glancing back down the hall to make sure he hadn’t been seen, making his way to the closet at the end of the hall. 

“Did you really think you could hide?” 

Virgil pulled the door open, wincing at the audible creak, and ducked inside, squeezing his eyes shut as he locked himself in the near total darkness. 

“You’re such a little coward! God, you pathetic waste of space!” 

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe- they were choking him, screaming and grabbing for him, all of them furious--

But...they weren’t. They weren’t upset with him. Not yet, anyway. Logan, Roman, and Patton wouldn’t...even if they were angry it wouldn’t be anywhere near as bad as it used to be. 

Right? 

They’d hated him once before. They’d all lashed out, reprimanded him for doing something wrong. But they said they wouldn’t. They’d promised. They’d said he...that he…

He was up against the wall now, pressed tight into the tiny closet’s corner, feeling lightheaded and far away as he fell into hyperventilating, chest aching and screaming for air, the pain momentarily overshadowing the cuts on his hand. 

“Anxiety!” 

“Trying to hide only makes it worse, you know.” 

Virgil didn’t remember sinking to the floor, but suddenly he was curled up in the dark closet, panic and fear taking their hold, sobs finally breaking free, his aching body wracked with violent tremors. 

“Will you shut up?” 

Virgil flinched, despite there being nothing but his own twisted memories, biting down on his sleeves to try to muffle his sobs. 

He jolted at the sudden pressure on his hands, the pain from a particularly deep cut flaring to life, and for just a terrifying second the world seemed to tilt. 

He curled up into as tight of a ball as he could, head buried under his hood, sobbing and shaking in the corner of the closet.

[moonlit-raven-haven]

The Past II

Where the reader and Harry no longer speak.

This is unedited!

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: angst, car accident, mentions of blood, hospital environment

A/N: Here’s part two! I hope you guys enjoy it :) I’ve decided to make this a mini series with maybe four parts, so stay tuned! There will be information at the very end regarding tag lists.

This series is inspire by the Instagram edit below :)

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by 𝕤𝕜𝕪 (@stylessr1) on Oct 2, 2020 at 3:19pm PDT

“Oh don’t worry ‘bout it hun, I’m just glad ya got here safely.” Y/N hears Anne’s voice comfort him as she hears wheels slowly being dragged across the floor and the closing of the door. Y/N felt frozen, unsure of what to do. Five years with no contact with the man that was speaking to his mum and sister in the living room they once used to spend hours talking in. Now they’re strangers, perhaps she was more of a stranger to him; the tabloids don’t exactly keep track of everyday people.

“I’m sure you’re hungry, there’s some leftover food in the kitchen from dinner.” Anne says, a smile evident in her voice as Y/N hears two steps of footsteps walking towards the kitchen. Her heartbeat increases more, this time the change is noticeable as she hears the uneven rhythm in her ears.

“Finish setting up the games for us Gem!” Anne calls out to her daughter as she steps into the kitchen, Harry trailing only a few steps behind her. Y/N has her back turned to the entrance of the kitchen, not finding the strength to turn around, although she knew it would be necessary eventually, but the longer she could avoid it, the slightly more at ease she felt. Her hands are gripping the edge of the sink, her knuckles white due to the pressure. She finally hears Anne’s light footsteps, followed by slightly heavier ones and a small gasp.

As Harry walked into the kitchen, looking up in the direction of the sink, where the refrigerator happens to be, he can’t help the small gasp that escapes past his lips as he sees the girl hunched over the sink, her hands gripping onto the edge of the sink as if her life depends on it. He hasn’t seen or contacted her in five years, and she never tried, having changed his number and blocked her out of his life in a slow but obvious manner. Suddenly the winter coat he’s wearing over his hoodie feels a lot warmer than usual, and his hands become clammy. The guilt is eating him up, but happiness is right next to the guilt, happiness to see that she’s okay, happiness that they’re in the same room after five years.

“Y/N?” His voice is like a sweet melody to her ears, being able to hear it more clearly she can hear the grogginess to his voice; the way it would sound every time he came home after a long flight. There’s a hint of shock, happiness, and something else she can’t quite put her finger on. And despite still feeling frozen in place, the grip she held on the sink counter loosens as she takes a deep breath and turns around, still hearing her heartbeat in her ears.

It was cheesy really, feeling like your breath is being taken away after seeing someone for the first time, or seeing them for the first time in years. But that’s what she felt in her chest, the air leaving her lungs, much like when Harry would return home and go to her house, embracing her so tightly she could no longer breathe. Y/N had seen pictures of him online and magazines, but having him in front of her didn’t compare. His face has matured more since she last saw him five years ago, stubble adorning his face, completing the medium length of his curly, chestnut hair. His legs are covered by black skinny jeans, and his feet by black Gucci boots, a signature look she had seen over the past several years in magazines. He wears a gray hoodie, a black jacket over it to keep warm in the cold weather, and her heart beat seems to quicken just a little more, it’s the jacket she had gotten him years ago, and the memory is crystal clear.

“Harry! Would you please wear a jacket?!” Her tone was serious and worried, fearing that he would get sick. They were going out for dinner at the local diner around the corner from their flat and to say it was cold out was an understatement.

“Okay mum.” Harry had rolled his eyes at her playfully, heading over to their shared closet and pulling out a gray hoodie, he pulled it over his body and headed back to the living room where Y/N was patiently waiting for him, despite her stomach growling.

“There, happy?” Harry asked her, his voice sounding like one of a snappy teenager who had to do something against their own will. Y/N shakes her head.

“It’s the coldest day of the year, and you’re wearing a hoodie that’ll barely keep you warm...you need a winter coat Harry.”

“I don’t have one.” Harry responded to her, causing Y/N to raise her eyebrow at him.

“You live in the UK and don’t own a winter coat?” She had questioned incredulously.

“Correct.”

“You’re unbelievable Styles.” Y/N had said with a shake of her head and a small laugh. They walked over to the diner, and as she suspected, Harry was shivering once they got inside, sitting next to her in the booth. It was unusual for them to do so, preferring to look at one another directly, rather than having to turn their heads when they spoke, but in that moment Harry needed to return to his normal body temperature. Y/N had hummed a soft “living in the UK without a winter coat” under her breath, causing Harry to laugh softly as their food was brought to them and they began to eat.

The day after, Harry had one final meeting with management and the boys, the one calling the official end of One Direction. So Y/N had taken it upon herself to go shopping to find a winter coat for Harry, her idiotic best friend who did not own a winter coat, plus, she hoped it would be able to boost his mood a bit. She had settled on a long black coat, simple but stylish and fitting whatever outfit he might have chosen to wear. She headed home with the coat in its own zip up bag, she could have put it in a gift bag, but she had felt it wasn’t necessary; the coat was more of a necessity rather than a gift. Harry had not come home yet, so she hung the coat on their bedroom door and then began to cook dinner.

When Harry returned to their shared flat, they had embraced, and Y/N smiled up at him, her attention temporarily away from the food on the stove.

“I got you something, it’s in the room.” She had said, the smile adorning her features made his heart beat a little faster than usual, something he had noticed but chosen to ignore, telling himself that he was excited for the item she had bought him and nothing more. He had walked over to their room, grinning from ear to ear as he unzipped the clear plastic bag and ran his fingers over the slightly rough material. Harry unsheathed the jacket from its bag and hanger, shrugging it over his body. He walked out into the living room with a smile on his face, doing a little twirl and posing with a hand on his hip once he faced her.

“How do I look?” Harry had questioned as he watched Y/N place their plates of food onto their table.

“Absolutely dashing, as usual.” Y/N had complimented as she walked over to him and fixed the collar, she gently patted it in place before looking up at him with doe eyes. He was mesmerizing to say the least, the way his hair was tied back in a messy bun, and his green eyes looked directly at her. Unconsciously they moved closer to one another, Harry’s breath fanning gently over her face.

“Thank you, love…really needed a winter coat...and a little mood booster.” Harry had said, his tone sincere, because he genuinely did appreciate her actions.

“O’course….plus you had gotten me that satchel...had to make up for it somehow…” Y/N had said with the smile that Harry had grown to love. He couldn’t deny his feelings anymore, he loved her.

He had leaned in closer to her face, but Y/N had moved away, her heart beating rapidly as she cleared her throat.

“We should probably eat before dinner gets cold.” She had said rather nervously.

“Oh right, yeah, o’course.” Harry replied, his throat was dry, and his heart had felt more heavy than it ever had.

They made their way over to their table, where they sat down and quietly ate dinner. They weren’t laughing and talking like they normally did, but instead there was a heavy silence weighing over them, and Y/N knows it’s her fault. She had wanted to kiss him, but she was unsure if she could really cross that line. Her doubts and worries had gotten the best of her. What if things didn’t work out and years of friendship went down the drain? But little did she know that would happen eventually. After that day, Harry began to keep his distance from her, it was slow, starting off with leaving the house often, to coming home late for dinner, often returning once she had gone to bed. Then he moved out, saying that their flat had gotten too cramped, which wasn’t a lie, it had gotten cramped with tension that had become unbearable. Eventually he stopped visiting her, and the calls completely stopped, and the texts had come to an abrupt halt. And then he changed his number, his address was unknown to her as he had said he wanted to keep it a surprise for when she came over the first time, but that day had never come. She had tried hard to contact him, even asking Anne and Gemma to talk to him, but it was no use. Harry had slipped from her fingers, and she couldn’t even try to get him back.

So caught up in the painful memory, Y/N didn’t realize that a tear fell down her cheek, or that Harry moved closer to her, his face full of worry as Anne left the room, saying something about the food being in the refrigerator and to heat it up.

“Hey Harry.” Y/N finally replies, wiping the stray tear off of her face, and she feels an urgency to leave, not sure if she can handle being around the man she called her best friend for so many years, the man she had loved but refused to go further than friends, afraid she would lose him.

“Um...I should really get going, especially since they’re expecting a storm.” She says, refusing to make eye contact with him as she moves past him, shrugging on her discarded coat and swinging her satchel over her shoulder.

“You kept it.” Harry states, although it sounds like more of a question as he looks at the worn down satchel hanging on the side of her body.

“You kept the coat.” Her voice falters in the slightest, but it’s enough for Harry to notice. At the mention of the coat he tenses, his mind briefly wandering to the day she bought it for him. He wants to tell her that he’s an idiot, and that he should’ve talked to her instead of running away like he did, but he can’t bring himself to do it, scared that he’ll mess things up even further.

“Um...like I said, I should really get going…” She mumbles softly, finally looking up at him and looking directly into his eyes for the first time in five years. They look their same vibrant green, but tired, perhaps from the long flight, or maybe the emotional exhaustion he surely felt the way she did in this very moment.

“You should stay...haven’t talked in awhile…I could make us some tea.” Harry offers, it was almost as if he wants to restart that tradition they had all those years ago, but Y/N shakes her head and makes her way to exit the kitchen, seeing that Anne and Gemma had begun a game already.

“Storm is starting, I should really get going…” Y/N says, her voice is no longer a whisper, but the various emotions can be heard, her eyes tearing up. The rain can be heard hitting the window, it’s soft, but she knows that in time it’ll get harder, making a dangerous ride home. She tells herself that she needs to leave for her own safety, rather than needing to be away from Harry. She had spent nights with Anne and Gemma when stoma would occur, so he excuse was lame, not thought of thoroughly.

“Please stay, love…” Harry’s voice is pleading, he wants to fix things, talk it out, explain himself and why he had acted the way he did. Y/N feels her heart ache, the dull pain gone, now replaced by the painful pang she had learned to ignore; overcome by emotion, she snaps.

“You don’t have the right to call me that anymore Harry! You left me, couldn’t even explain yourself...couldn’t even talk to me ‘bout it. I tried to contact you, but you pushed me away like I meant nothing, Harry! Absolutely nothing…” Y/N voice starts off strong, but cracks as her body shakes with emotion and tears begin to fall down her face. Harry is stunned, the guilt is now coursing through his body, realizing how badly he has hurt her. He moves closer to her, attempts to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she moves away from him, her eyes getting a slight red tint to them as she shakes her head.

“I need to go…” She murmurs, walking away from him, and as she walks into the living room she sees Anne and Gemma looking at her worriedly, the words Y/N had said moments before were enough for them to get a glimpse into the untold story that ended Y/N and Harry’s friendship.

“Sorry Anne and Gemma...can I get a rain check on game night?” Y/N asks with a sad smile as she walks over to the women and embraces them.

“Of course, Y/N. Are you sure you’re alright to drive? The storm seems to have finally picked up.” Anne says worriedly, and Y/N finally hears the rain pelting down against the window, and while she knows it probably isn’t safe for her to drive, especially with her heightened emotions, she refuses to stay another minute in the house where Harry would try and talk to her.

“I’ll be alright Anne. Thank you guys for dinner.” And with one final wave Y/N is out the door, gripping onto her coat and satchel as the heavy raindrops call against her clothing, becoming soaked in a matter of seconds. She runs to her car, pulling the keys out the satchel and unlocking it before climbing in, shivering at the cold clothes that now clinged to her body. She shrugs the satchel off and puts in the passenger's seat, putting her keys in the ignition and turning it on, waiting for the car to heat up before turning the heat on. She sees Harry run out of the warm house, his hair clinging onto his face as his hoodie takes on a dark gray color from the rain, it was rather really cinematic really.

“Y/N! Please!” She hears Harry shout, his voice muffled by the loud rain and comfort of her car. Y/N shakes her head and drives off, her hands gripping the steering wheel the same way she had done with the counter of the kitchen sink minutes before. Her mind is clouded with thoughts and memories, her eyes becoming heavy with tears, blurring her vision. I should pull over, compose myself. She thinks to herself, but decides against it; the quicker she got home the quicker she could break down in the comfort of her flat.

Her mind keeps wandering to the scene that played out at Anne’s house, causing the tears in her eyes to finally fall down her face, and she wants to stop crying, but she can't. Y/N’s vision becomes more blurry than before, and her mind is elsewhere, not truly focusing on the road in front of her, which is why she doesn’t notice the traffic signal she ignored, the red light now barley processing in her mind as a car crashes straight into the passenger's side of her car. The impact takes her by surprise as she’s suddenly very aware of her spinning car, and she grips the steering wheel, trying desperately to gain control of her car again, but it’s of no use as she crashes into the traffic light, the impact isn’t as hard as it should’ve been due to her breaking, but the traffic light still flickers, going black just like her vision.

-*-*-*-

Y/N’s eyes strain open, bright fluorescent lights filling her vision before adjusting, finding herself in a hospital room. She hears the steady beeping of the heart monitor and the soft click of the IV drip, oxygen being pumped into her lungs in a small steady stream.

“Hey you.” She hears a soft gruff voice next to her, the voice she recognizes as Mark’s, her boyfriend of two years.

“Hey babe.” Y/N says with a weak smile as his hand finds her, slowly bringing it up to his lips and kissing her knuckles gently.

“Was worried ‘bout you when I got the call, thankfully nothing too serious, just a sprained wrist on your other hand and a small cut to your forehead…but why didn’t you stay at Anne’s like you normally do when there’s storms?” He questions softly, concern filling his orbs as he squeezes her hand gently.

“Um...just wanted to get home…” Y/N lies to him. Despite being together for two years, Mark knew nothing of her past with Harry, or why she avoided talking about him whenever Mark would bring up some new headline about Harry and his success. As far as Mark is aware, Harry is another celebrity out of reach from their lives.

-*-*-*-

Anne received a call minutes after the accident, being one of Y/N emergency contacts. Harry was in the living room, his face between his hands as Gemma tried to comfort him while scolding him for messing up such a good friendship all those years ago. But when Anne walked in with a serious look on her face the two looked up at her worriedly.

“What happened?” Harry was the first one to speak up, removing his hands that had once been covering his face.

“It’s um...it’s Y/N...she’s been in a car accident.” Anne said quietly, and upon seeing Harry’s face become anguished, she quickly followed her statement with an urgent, “She’s okay.” And Harry’s face is washed with relief.

“We should go.” Harry says, his clothes were still drenched when he got up from his spot on the couch, leaving a wet spot from where he sat.

“You should change first hun, don’t want you getting sick, or have people recognize you.” Anne quickly chimed in before he could have walked out the door. Harry had nodded, quickly understanding the second part to her statement. He was wearing the same clothes from the airport, making it possible for someone to recognize him easier. He hums a “I’ll be right back” before disappearing upstairs with his luggage.

-*-*-*-

Upon arriving at the hospital after a rather treacherous and slow car ride, they all climb out of Anne’s car and head towards the entrance of the hospital, umbrellas in hand. They receive guest passes before making their way up to the second floor of the hospital. Harry is anxiously biting his lip, because despite not talking to Y/N for five years, he still cares deeply for her, only worsening his guilt about the whole situation.

They finally reach her room number and Anne opens the door quietly, making Y/N and Mark’s quiet moment watching television come to a halt.

“I’ll be back in a bit to give you three...four...some privacy.” Mark says to the group, planting a gentle kiss on Y/N’s forehead. He leaves the room, his brows slightly furrowed at the sight of Harry Styles in the room, visiting his girlfriend, throwing him in a loop. And as he makes his way down to the cafeteria for a coffee, the pieces slowly start to assemble in his head, the reason Y/N didn’t like to talk about the famous star, and why she probably hadn’t stayed at Anne’s house like she normally did; the two have history.

Harry closes the door gently once Mark exits the room, his face scrunching up slightly in distaste at seeing Y/N with another man who wasn’t him, even if her and Harry were never truly together, it still hurts. He recalls when he came home after his first solo tour, he was having dinner with Anne and Gemma, the topic of Y/N briefly coming up.

“Oh Y/N is so wonderful darling! It’s such a shame you two stopped talking.” Anne had commented over dinner.

“Yeah, she’s wonderful...deserve the whole world.” Harry had replied quietly, a small smile coming onto his face at the mention of the girl.

“She’s got a boyfriend now, his name is Mark...seems serious if you ask me.” Anne added as she had taken a sip of her wine. Harry had felt a pang in his chest when he heard the word boyfriend, wishing that it was him and not some other bloke. But Harry had foolishly run out of Y/N’s life.

“Does she seem happy?” Harry had asked seconds after, a hint of jealousy to his tone, a hint of jealousy that he truly had no right to have.

“Yeah...seem a bit tense there, Harry, almost jealous…” Gemma had finally chimed into the conversation. Harry had simply laughed at her comment, shaking his head as he denied the claims of jealousy, carrying their conversation elsewhere as dinner continued.

That was two years ago now, she has been with Mark for two years. Mark is the one making her happy, kissing her, taking her out, buying her gifts, making sure she’s treated properly, not Harry. He no longer has a place in her life, at least he thinks he doesn’t. So lost in his thoughts, he didn’t realize that Anne and Gemma had left the room, leaving Harry and Y/N alone. Harry clears his throat.

“Where are Gemma and my mum?” Harry asks Y/N, his voice a bit hoarse.

“Went to the cafeteria, said that we should talk…” Y/N says as she looks up at him from her position on the bed, and for the first time since entering her room, Harry looks at her, wincing at the cut on her head, part of her hair dried with blood, and her wrist wrapped in a bandage. And he can’t help the bubble of guilt within him that seems to grow more; it was his fault she was on the bed, if he had stayed quiet, she would’ve probably gotten home safely, or been willing to spend the night at Anne’s house.

“You okay, Harry?...” Y/N asks quietly, noticing his lack of words or movement, and the tears that fell down his face. She is still mad at him, but above all, she is hurt, but she still can’t stop herself from caring about him. Harry, finally noticing his tears he shakes his head and sniffles, wiping his face clean with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

“‘M okay lo- Y/N...thank you for caring.” He says softly, quickly catching on to the mistake he almost made once again.

“I should get going…” Harry says softly. He knew Anne told Y/N that her and Harry would need to talk to fix things, but her willingness to do is what makes him head for the door.

“Harry! Wait...I reckon we really do need to talk.” Y/N calls out after him from her position on the hospital bed.

“Uh...yeah, just not right now Y/N. I really should get going…” He catches himself trying to run away again, and quickly stops himself. “When do you get discharged?” He questions, still standing by the door as he turns to face her.

“Tomorrow morning.” Y/N states with a small smile, one that almost manages to make him feel better in an instant, but he doesn’t allow himself to feel better, he deserves what he’s feeling after having been the cause of her emotional turmoil, the reason she’s in that bed.

“Dinner tomorrow? My place? 7’oclock. We could talk and catch up.” Harry proposes, fiddling with his fingers nervously.

“Dinner tomorrow, your place, 7’oclock.” Y/N repeats softly, perhaps they could try and go back to normal, be as close as they once had, as best friends. Harry hums in response, nodding his head before opening the door and gently closing it behind him, leaving Y/N with a gentle smile on her face and a heart that no longer aches as much.

-*-*-*-

A/N: I will be making a two master lists for Harry Styles content! :) One for ALL Harry Styles fics I will do in the future, and one for JUST this fic. Comment “All Harry fics” or “Just this Harry fic” if you would like to be added.

[akampana]

Continuation of this ask

Bedivere x Arturia - Ship it

What made you ship it?

TBH I was one of those few people who shipped it based on that like 2 second scene at the end of FSN. The Camelot Singularity just reinforced it. A lot came from the original Arthurian legend as well. Bedivere is similarly insanely loyal as he is in the game, and like in Fate lore, he’s been with Arthur longer than most.

What are your favorite things about the ship?

He journeyed so far for so long just to see her smile OH MY GOD BRB IM SOBBING HOLY CRAP CAN YOU JUST IMAGINE—

I’m a sucker for intensely loyal knights and I will always be. ALWAYS.

THE ANGST POTENTIALLLLLL but also THE FLUFF POTENTIALLLL

This man loved his king so bloody intensely. So strongly that his desire to see her survived the test of time. To be loved so much, so unconditionally for a thousand and a half years? Gods, that’s just too much, man. ;-;

And I absolutely adore how much it means to him to remain her knight, even if he tends to be insecure about the limb that he lacks, and how he believes he is nothing special in comparison with everyone else. I love that Arturia recognizes his strength and his worth, even if he himself can’t see it.

THE ENTIRE CONFRONTATION IN THE THRONE ROOM LET ME TELL YOU I WAS CRYING SOOOOO HARD THROUGHOUT THAT IK NIT EVEN KIDDING

THIS, the MINDBREAK Arturia goes through when she tries to remember

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

I think that THIS SHIP NEEDS MORE LOVE AND I REALLY OUGHT TO CONTRIBUTE

All the other answers below cut!

Irisviel x Arturia - Ship It

What made you ship it?

I think I was bound to the moment I watched Fate Zero. When I was younger it was overshadowed by the feels Diarturia brought and not to mention Kiritsugu and Iri but this ship is damn good on its own.

What sold it though, is the argument she and Kiritsugu have in Episode 16, right after the last Saber and Lancer fight. Irisviel, who we all know loves her husband so much, forced Kiritsugu to answer Saber. That’s just how important Arturia was to her.

What are your favorite things about the ship?

I think they both found in each other something they themselves lack. It’s actually kind of funny. Arturia is human, and yet she’s so heavily consumed by her ideals that she doesn’t act like one. Irisviel, on the other hand, is not human, and yet everything that she does and wants to do is exactly that.

Throughout the anime, Being with Iri puts Saber into such mundane, ordinary situations that it teaches her to live. The suits, the escorting, being a passenger instead of a driver, appreciating the water by the seashore, etc. It's like the woman wants to leave her with some appreciation for the world, especially when she herself doesn’t have all that much time left.

On Irisviel’s part, I think she found in Saber the companionship she would have wanted from Kiritsugu during the last few days she remained on the Earth. Arturia had been the perfect knight in shining armor, taking Irisviel around to see the world as much as they could amidst a war. If they’d just had more time, I have no doubt Arturia would have taken Irisviel even more places, you know?

It makes me sad :( but in a good way.

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

I’m pretty sure Irisviel would wear the pants in this relationship ya know what I mean? Hahaha

Much as I love this ship, I think that it becomes all the more valuable because of how it ended. To each other, they were this brief, fleeting feeling of happiness. A love that was so short and yet so strong.

Shirou x Arturia - Don't Ship it

Hooooooo boi. Hear me out, mkay ? But this is just my personal opinion so pls no hate

Why don't you ship it?

I’m gonna start out by saying I don’t think I need to, tbh. Hahaha there’s enough content for this ship being fed to us, so my liking it or not is immaterial. But the reason is well...I watched FSN and Shirou x Saber was...not the best thing about it (the best thing about it was the soundtrack omg iconic) Shirou comes off as a bit of a misogynist, and kind of immature, and the whole time it’s like he doesn’t really listen to Arturia at all. Plus, it’s kind of like he just likes her looks at times. The final deciding factor was the date scene. That was just unbearable.

But then I go online and I see all this good stuff about them. And my friend ships them cause they’re canon, right? So, I’m like okay, what if I judged too quickly, let’s play the VN...and I did. And I still didn’t like him with Saber at all. So, I played the next route, watched the next anime, trying to redeem 1st route Shirou as much as I could but it just....didn’t happen. I think I can safely say I tried to like them. I really did. But no.

What would have made you like it?

Removing the misogyny and the immaturity and letting him listen to her. Like he should have.

At no point in their interactions did it feel like they were standing on equal ground, ever. Either he was speaking over her or the opposite. So less of that and a lot more respect.

And when you compare this relationship to what he has with like with his other two love interests, it makes this ship fall completely flat. It’s pretty...bland and honestly kind of shallow. It’s like the story just tells you they’re in love but there’s no answer to why they’re in love. Make him fall in love with her for her without necessarily forcing his need to save everyone on her.

Despite not shipping it, do you have anything positive to say about it?

I may not like how they got there, but in the end Arturia was able to pass peacefully.

I acknowledge that Shirou was important and made a change in her life.

That ending scene where they meet after so long, NGL is pretty sweet.

A lot of my headcanons happen post-Shirou, so there’s also that.

Archer x Rin -Ship it

What made you ship it?

Tsundere x Cynic has gotta be one of the best dynamics out there.

What are your favorite things about the ship?

His true identity. The fact that she dragged him all the way across space and time to return as her Servant, that’s just bloody fate at work.

The fact that he keeps acknowledging she’s a strong Master despite his later conduct in UBW.

Archer is ridiculously crass and Rin is easily riled up. In the Fifth Holy Grail War, they had the best Master-Servant relationship period. They have this explosive chemistry that just works so well.

When he smiles at her at the end of the route, and you just know that Tohsaka’s gonna be stubborn enough to make sure Shirou doesn’t end up going down the exact same path.

I think it’s sweet that he ends up going along with her whims because he secretly likes housework.

THE PRINCESS CARRY/ CATCH. MAN OH MAN.

Unlike the previous ship mentioned here, these two actually stand on equal ground with each other.

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

I don't think it's exactly an unpopular opinion, but I think they really ought to have more official content y'know? Rin is important in every route, and Archer's the actual climax of UBW and also entirely significant across three routes.

Medusa x Sakura - Don't ship it

Why don't you ship it?

Because while journeying through the routes, I always saw Rider as more of a best friend/sort of motherly figure to Sakura.

Or that Rider fulfilled the kind of relationship that she wanted to have with Rin, while Sakura unknowingly filled the void Medusa's sisters left in her life. I thought she was more of a guardian angel really, not a romantic interest. Kind of like how Heracles was to Illya.

What would have made you like it?

If I could maybe forget about the threesome with Shirou and the implied romantic feelings Rider has for him in Ataraxia that would be great.

Despite not shipping it, do you have anything positive to say about it?

Sakura deserves all the happiness in the world and I really do believe that Rider could fulfill that.

This ship DEFINITELY DEFINITELYYYYYY NEEDS MORE CONTENT

Diarmuid x Cú - Ship it

What made you ship it?

oooh this probably sounds surprising since based on my content you'd think, no i dont ship this BUT I DOOOOOOO (i just happen to hc them as bros more often)

Honestly what did make me ship it is the parallels.

What are your favorite things about the ship?

IMO They have the biggest potential for hurt/comfort amongst all the ships mentioned here.

They can help each other get through their trauma. Their whole relationship would be extremely healing and supportive.

I love that Diarmuid seems to have idolized Cú Chulainn at some point and honestly who wouldn't be honored to stand beside him, no?

They could be up to the funniest shenanigans because Cú is chaos and Diarmuid would absolutely be an enabler because when he isn't angst-ing he's super damn chill.

Bros being bros hahahah...unless?

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

Not really. Maybe that I think Lancer Diar and Cascu would get along better and Saber Diar and Lancer Cu would also get along better but honestly any form is good this ship is good

[babyybitchhh]

This is the anon who commented about yami! I didn't like nozel at first but I can't lie, he kinda grew on me and he's fine asf. I couldn't look at magna in anyway until I saw him with his hair down. Now I'm like 👀👀👀. More than anything, I just want yami to ruin me. Spank me and call me a good girl pleaseee

Yessssssss

Yami was BUILT to be daddy. So strong, so rough around the edges but with a big soft heart, so beefy 💗🥴💗

Words: 3937

Warnings: daddy kink, alcohol, drunk fingering, vaginal fingering 

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27172960

❤️❤️❤️❤️

You probably should have known better than to start drinking with them. No, not probably. You definitely should have known better.

Hindsight was always twenty-twenty though, and you could see now just how grievous a mistake it had been to accept Vanessa’s invitation without stopping long enough to consider the consequences but, well ... she was one of the only other women in the squad and she seemed to like you well enough. You wanted her to keep liking you, of course. So you’d foolishly jumped at the chance, far too eager to be included in this decidedly unorthodox team bonding exercise of theirs.

The Black Bulls were, by nature, sufficiently rowdy enough on their own but adding alcohol to the mix only seemed to fan the flames. They were the very definition of unruly. Clothes had been shamelessly discarded, more cigarettes smoked than you would have thought possible, arguments over nothing at all turned heated with alarming frequency only to be immediately forgotten and you, you were stuck in the middle of it. Thoroughly lost in your own world and floating serenely through the hazy bog of consciousness without a second thought to what chaos was going on around you.

It was kind of nice, actually. Liberating.

“Remember, ya’ gotta’ have at least three matching pairs to discard,” Magna reminds the assembled party as he quickly deals out a fresh hand. “Or you can do the same suit if ya’ want, but it has to go in order. No incomplete sets.”

The worse for wear table everyone had initially gathered around started off cramped, a tight fit for so many people and with little elbow room to spare. As the night wore on, however, most of the plucky squadron had gradually called it quits and retired until eventually only four remained. You were proud of yourself for outlasting the others but you also knew just how in over your head you were with this particular group. Yami could likely drink anyone under the table and Magna appeared to keep up with him just fine. While Vanessa didn’t exactly hold her liquor well , she could certainly put it away. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that you were on your last leg here even if you were, for all intents and purposes, having a good time.

“Alright, lets see what ya’ got.”

Feeling simultaneously as light as a feather and sluggish under the weight of heavy, invisible chains, you slowly flip your cards over. It was hard to tell which way was up anymore, especially when your inner vertigo was so off kilter. You were warm, too. Almost unbearably so. Clammy in the worst possible way and you teeter forward in your chair, struggling to focus your swimming vision on the cards spread out in front of you.

It was a shit hand.

Grumbling under your breath, you distractedly tug at your clothes. A soft, fitful whine claws its way up your throat when it does absolutely nothing to alleviate just how stiflingly hot you are and, in fact, only seems to make it worse. You were absolutely burning up and this card game was its own special brand of torture, you decide with nothing short of woozy contempt.

“What the hell’s your problem?” Yami asks mildly from his spot beside you.

He was infuriatingly collected despite having consumed even more alcohol than you had, guzzling down mouthful after mouthful while you’d taken your time sipping on the fruity concoctions Vanessa made special just for you. You’d lost track of how many cups he’d emptied quite some time ago but you were still only on your third. It didn’t make sense. How were you so damn tipsy already?

“Hot.” You groan, not bothering to look up from what was possibly the worst hand you could have been dealt. Letting Magna shuffle the deck was, unsurprisingly, yet another mistake to add to the ever growing list.

Turning his head, Yami glances over at you and you catch the movement from your peripheral but still refuse to divert your attention from the cards. Maybe if you just stared at them long enough, hard enough, they’d morph into something you could actually use. You weren’t a magic knight in name only, right? Surely your grimoire was good for something .

“You’re drunk.” He suddenly announces, loud enough to make Vanessa whip her head around.

“M’not.” You grumble.

“Bullshit.”

The inebriated witch inserts herself into the fray before you can respond, wrapping slender arms around your shoulders and pulling you in against her bosom. “Awww, honey! Did’ju really like my drinks that much?” She coos at you sweetly. “I wasn’t tryin’ to get you drunk. Promise.”

“M’not drunk.” You insist, louder this time, much to Vanessa’s giggling amusement.

Heaving a clipped sigh, Yami leans across the table and taps your cards with a thick finger, slowly drawing your attention back to them. “I’m not saying I don’t believe you,” He says around the cigarette in his mouth. “But someone who isn’t piss drunk would probably know better than to lay their hand out on the table like this. Do you even know what game we’re playing right now?”

Mouth tugging into a frown, you wrack your muddled brain for the answer to that question. “Go fish?”

Magna inelegantly snorts at that. You can feel yourself starting to flush in embarrassment as Vanessa begins fussing over you, softly petting your head with murmured, nonsensical endearments. She definitely wasn’t helping matters and you sincerely hoped none of them could see your fluster.

Yami doesn’t seem to miss it though and he purses his lips, pinning you with an unimpressed glower. “That’s what I thought. Sorry, sweetheart, but you’re officially cut off. No more booze tonight, okay?”

Both you and Vanessa groan in unison. Your head immediately starts to spin in earnest now and you slump against the other woman even as she grabs your drink and holds it up to you as if she were bottle feeding a baby. The notion that she might accidentally dump it all over your head when she was just as intoxicated as you doesn’t even cross your mind and you obediently open your mouth to accept her offering.

“Come on, captain! At least let her finish her dr-drink first! I worked really hard to -”

Yami cuts across her babbling with a huff, standing and grabbing hold of the cup so he can pull it away despite Vanessa’s best attempt to keep it in her fumbling grasp. You watch it go, feeling an odd mix of disappointment and relief. The giddy, jovial mood you’d been imbued with was nice, yes, but realistically your body probably couldn’t handle much more. It was likely for the best.

“Just knock it off.” Pointedly setting the drink down towards the center of the table, Yami turns back with a furrowed brow. “Are you trying to kill her or something? What all did you even put in that?”

Vanessa hums a noncommittal sound of guilt, winding a strand of your hair around her finger.

He scoffs and moves closer with an accompanying shake of his head. Your heart gives a little jolt when you realize he’s coming towards you, not Vanessa, and you can’t help the anxious tinge that sparks in your chest. He was probably mad at you for getting so drunk. He looked mad. You didn’t want to be on the receiving end of one of his lectures though and you lean further into the softly swaying witch next to you in search of protection.

Much to your faltering surprise, however, Yami’s tone sounds closer to exacerbated than angry when he says, “Alright, brat. C’mere. You get to sit with me for the rest of the night so I can keep an eye on you and make sure someone doesn’t try to sneak you anything else.”

You blink, thoroughly confused, and it feels like even something as simple as a muscle twitch takes a small eternity to accomplish. Yami either doesn’t notice or he doesn’t care though.

Shooing Vanessa away, he bends at the waist and curls big hands under your armpits, hauling you straight up out of your seat. You outright squawk, flailing weakly in Yami’s grasp when you suddenly find yourself much further from the ground than you were used to. But your panic lasts only a terrifyingly brief moment and you relax when he draws you close, allowing you to curl your limbs around his thick frame. With a slight jostle, he adjusts his hold and secures you to the front of him. You instinctively nuzzle further into his arms, drunkenly whimpering as you tightly lock your elbows behind his neck.

“You’re no fun …” Vanessa whines on your behalf.

He clicks his tongue. “I’m thinking ahead. You’re not.” He says, those rumbled words reverberating inside your skull and further grounding you by some margin. “But if she gets sick, you’re the one who’s gonna’ clean it up.”

With that admonition, he moves back to his own chair and sits down again. It takes you a moment to get situated on his lap, still unbearably hot and fussy now after forcibly being removed from the fun. The last thing you want is to look like a lightweight in front of your teammates but he finally stills you with a large, mindful hand against your lower back. The silent warning in that innocuous gesture is enough to make you quit while you’re still ahead and, mewling something unintelligible, you press your warm face into his neck so you can settle in to pout.

Magna says something then, successfully distracting Vanessa from the subject, and the game carries on without you. The three of them don’t seem to mind the loss one bit as they seamlessly pick right back up where they’d left off.

It's hard to shake the feeling that your presence at the table was nothing more than an afterthought to them, or maybe a simple nicety, and it stung a little. There was no denying that. But you were much too hazy and disoriented to linger on it for more than a moment, molding yourself to the firm weight against you and going pleasantly slack in Yami’s arms. He was surprisingly comfortable, given his hard physique. A little too warm for your liking when you already felt swelteringly hot, but ultimately comfortable.

The even rise and fall of his broad chest is almost enough to lull you into dozing off right then and there with your head resting on his shoulder. Yami’s rough fingers tracing nonsensical, soothing patterns across your spine is the only thing that keeps you tethered to reality and you sit there, eyes closed, just listening to the slurred conversation going on at your back. It sounded far away now. Muted, as if your ears were stuffed with cotton, but you didn’t mind that too much. Magna was loud enough when sober and even worse when he was drunk.

A long moment later, Yami removes the cigarette from his lips and turns towards you when the other two start bickering about the validity of a certain card sequence. “How you feeling, squirt?” He asks, pressing his mouth against your hair.

“Good.” You murmur dreamily.

He laughs, very quietly, and gives you the briefest squeeze. “Yeah? You’re deadweight, baby girl. Sure you’re not gonna’ pass out on me over there?”

“Mmhmm.”

With a soft click of his tongue, Yami focuses back in on the game. The hand resting on your back slips lower, inconspicuously giving your behind a playful tweak that seems to go unnoticed by the table's other occupants given that they keep talking without pause. Magna would more than likely look away, politely pretending he hadn’t seen it, but Vanessa … if she’d caught so much as a glimpse, you’d be hearing about it right now. That was at least one reason (of which there was many) why what you had with Yami, whatever it was, still remained a secret to the rest of the squad even though it was probably a miracle they hadn’t caught on already, especially when he was so damn handsy with you.

Normally you’d err on the side of caution for that reason alone but you felt just daring enough to give him little push back. Emboldened by the liquid courage sitting hot and heavy in your stomach, confident that he wouldn’t have initiated this had it not been safe to do so, you discreetly roll your hips into him. The drag of your pussy across the front of his pants makes your breath hitch and he stiffens underneath you. That’s all the reaction you get for your trouble though, prompting you to lift your head from his shoulder and lean close to Yami’s ear.

“ Daddy …”

It’s nothing more than a tiny, breathless sigh but the effect it has on him is instantly noticeable. Steel chorded arm tightening around you, he breathes out a terse exhale and pulls you more firmly against his chest until you can scarcely breathe. A wavering puff of air slips from you as your thighs flex around his waist, silently trying to urge him on. It doesn’t work though and a shudder works its way down the length of your spine when he turns towards you again, growling right against the outer shell of your ear.

“Watch it.”

You whine, bucking against him more insistently. “ Nooooo .”

Yami snorts and swivels his attention back around to the cards clasped in his other hand. Pressing your face into the crook of his neck, you take a deep breath until the naturally heady scent of him swarms your senses like a fragrant, masculine cocktail. You can taste him in the back of your throat and it just makes you want him all the more.

Another wiggle of your hips is all the incentive he needs, calloused fingers slipping further down to grab a pinching handful of your ass. Roughly nudging you to sit a bit higher up on his thighs, he reaches lower and snakes his hand under your skirt. You squirm at the first touch against your panties, whimpering softly into his skin. Yami merely tightens his arm around you as he ever so carefully pulls the thin layer of cotton aside just enough to slide those sinfully long digits past the flimsy barrier.

“Spoiled brat,” He murmurs fondly, just loud enough for you to hear. “Already so damp and needy for me.”

You bite down on your tongue to keep yourself quiet, shuddering when he casually traces the length of your slit with abrasive fingertips.

Magna abruptly cackles about something and the sudden noise makes you jolt. Yami, to his credit, remains perfectly still though and merely waits a torturously long beat before continuing in rumbling hushed tones. “How long were you sitting over there in your own mess, hmm?”

“I - it’s not a mess.” You warble into his shoulder, your cheeks flushing hot.

“Oh? This certainly feels like a mess to me …” Pausing, Yami dips a finger into the meat of your labia and the slick quality of your pussy suddenly makes itself known. You hadn’t noticed until now, either because you were too caught up in your inebriated stupor or simply too focused on pouting to pay it any mind, but you were absolutely soaked. It wasn’t exactly surprising. Your body always responded eagerly to being manhandled by the captain but even this seemed a bit excessive.

Whining low in your throat, you decide you don’t want to play this game after all and try to angle your defenseless little cunt away from his searching hand. But Yami puts a stop to that quickly enough and shifts his legs further apart, forcibly spreading your thighs until you can’t find the leverage needed to wriggle out of his hold. You lip quivers when he takes advantage of this vulnerable position to worm a finger into the tight, squeezing heat of your body, gummy walls contracting around the intrusion with a pleasant flutter. It takes everything you have not to throw your head back and unabashedly moan up at the ceiling.

“Can’t you feel that, baby? You’re so wet I didn’t even have to work you open.”

Hiccuping, you shove your face against Yami’s neck again. “Dah - daddy … please .”

“Shh.” He warns even as he starts up a slow pace, sedately pumping into you. “Keep quiet or I’ll have to stop.”

As if on cue, Vanessa says something to him then and Yami effortlessly diverts his attention to the slurring witch as if nothing about the situation were out of place. You dig your nails into the broad expanse of his shoulder blades and bite back a groan, suddenly feeling ten times hotter than before. Even with all your concentration focused on keeping as still and quiet as possible, you find yourself imperceptibly arching to give him better access to your sticky cunt. It was certainly a blessing in disguise that she was just as drunk as you were, otherwise she might have given the whole thing a second thought. The way you were sitting on his lap. The smallest twitch of your hips to accompany the shallow quality of your breathing. It was so obvious what you two were doing. How had they not noticed already?

The table.

Neither Magna or Vanessa could see over it unless they came around and stood right next to the chair. You were essentially safe from the waist down and a fresh spark of confidence alights throughout your whole system with this realization, doubling and then tripling your arousal. It was still risky doing something so brazen right in front of them but you were just drunk enough not to care.

Loins twisting and curling, you carefully rear back to meet his shallow thrusts. You’d never felt more uninhibited in your whole life. “Oooh, daddy,” You whisper, choking on it. “Right there.”

Yami doesn’t miss a beat, easily keeping up with the conversation as he allows a second digit to slide in with the first. You feel the stretch in your bones and you quietly seeth, lashes fanning against the apples of your cheeks when it pushes you to just this side of discomfort. Even being as wet as you are, his fingers were just too thick for your eagerly clenching passage to accommodate them without some resistance and you hedonistically bask in the searing burn. It felt good. Almost good enough for you to lose yourself to the pleasure but, somehow, you manage to keep your wits about you instead of shamelessly writhing in his lap.

You may as well have thrown caution to the wind though. Discretion hardly mattered anymore. You already felt like a blatant little slut and the shock of how much that turns you on has your pussy drooling obscenely all over Yami’s hand.

“Hah - harder, daddy … nnghh, harder, please.”

Rather than obliging, he actually pauses his ministrations and you quietly mewl at the loss of friction. You squirm on top of his muscular thighs and desperately try to fuck down on his digits, panting like a bitch in heat against the captains neck. He shifts underneath you, says something to Vanessa that makes her direct a chiding tone at Magna. Their bickering starts up again and with the rise in volume, Yami gives his wrist a good twist that shoves his fingertips into your upper wall. Static electricity shoots through your system at the sudden pressure on that pulsing sweet spot and the tension in your gut immediately starts to toe the line of unbearable.

Your mouth drops open in shellshocked ecstasy but nothing comes out. It’s hard just to draw breath when the dizzyingly sharp jolt of arousal has your toes flexing uselessly in the air and you tremble, quaking in his arms. Unperturbed by the effect this is having on you, Yami takes his time caressing the velvety soft lining of your insides with sedately smooth motions. Those worn fingertips gradually curl up in the general direction of your belly button and press in deeper, harder, making your cunt absolutely gush around him. You weren’t going to last much longer at this rate.

“Oooh god !” You gasp, clutching him in a death grip.

Turning your head, you press your cheek against Yami’s shoulder and fix your gaze to a random spot on the far wall. The room looked like it was tilted on its axis - - spinning, spinning, spinning - - and all you can do is whine and shake when he scissors his fingers, making more room for himself within you.

You weren’t just overheated anymore. It was as if you’d caught flame, burning from the inside out, and it only gets worse when he flexes his hand, jabbing at the spongy soft spot again and again.

A choked off squeal rises in your throat, just barely held back by tightly clenched teeth. You’re almost positive you can hear the greedy, slopping clicks of your pussy sucking him in deeper just below the surface of the enthusiastic argument going on behind you but they don’t seem to notice. They just keep shouting back and forth at each other, oblivious to what was going on at the other end of the table. You have no idea how you’re getting away with this - aren’t even really sure if you will get away with this when all is said and done - but that’s the very last thing on your mind anymore as you haltingly roll your hips into the blinding pressure.

“Ah - ahh - d - dah - ahh - ddyyy !”

“Do it.” Yami murmurs, his mouth pressed tight to your ear. “Come now , baby. Do it while you have the chance. Come on.”

Your eyes roll back in your head and you give your pelvis one good little twist. The drag of your throbbing clit across the front of his rough pants is the last push you need, the resulting friction searing your veins. It sends you spiraling right over the edge into doped out bliss and you squeak, jerking against him when full bodied tremors grip you in earnest and make you shake.

Riding out the cresting waves as discreetly as you can, you blink back an onslaught of reflexive tears. Your pussy squeezes tight, milking your orgasm on his fingers, even though the effort of forcing yourself to remain quiet nearly breaks your resolve. But you manage, somehow, to breathe through it even as your hips weakly buck in unmitigated pleasure, subduedly twisting in his arms. It felt like you were drowning in it, choking on immense, all encompassing relief.

But Yami doesn’t immediately let up on his concerted attack, continuing to work you over until the spasms start to subside and you whine in frazzled distress. Digits finally stilling inside you, he offers a brief kiss to your hair and it makes you breathe out a tired sigh. You immediately slump, going boneless on top of him, now even clammier than when you’d started. The sweat clinging to your skin has you feeling worryingly damp but you were also satiated and comfortable. It was an acceptable tradeoff, as far as you were concerned.

“Such a good girl. You even managed to stay quiet for me. I’m proud of you.”

Smiling at the hushed approval in his tone, you snuggle further into Yami’s musclebound frame. You were floating on cloud nine, no longer concerned about being removed from the card game; not when the pleasant afterglow and the reassuring presence of your captain - your daddy - had you feeling so at peace. There would always be a next time.

[remsmoonlight]

— title : help me

— word count : 2.1 k words

— pairing : daryl dixon x reader

— summary : you’re not the only one who can feel yourself falling apart, but other things come to light in the mean time

— warnings : brief mentions of death, minor swearing, lack of self care

Had it not been for the fact that you know the world has ended, you could almost find yourself beginning to allow for a sense of tranquility to alleviate the constant threat of anxiety that creeps up on you almost daily. Normality was not a guarantee anymore, it was a rare prize that the group finds itself sometimes able to create even a jagged fragment of.. something you find yourself gripping onto with an unyielding strength, as if you could force it into reality.

The appealing picture is punctured as you spot some movement out of your peripheral vision, your gun is raised in the direction, an inaudible laugh is released as you try to find humour in your paranoia. Even protected by steel fences and concrete walls, you can’t find yourself believing that this prison is now your home, your sanctuary that protects you from the horrors from the outside that constantly threaten to overwhelm the grimy paradise your family had built.

Nothing out of the ordinary has occurred the entire time since you had been awoken to take watch, just a few stray walkers and animals, nothing that would warrant a bullet in them to draw every other living thing for miles to the prison. You find the cool mist that blankets the green fields welcome, something to keep you grounded before your mind wanders off to all that has been brutally torn from your soul, piece by agonising piece. The fog acts as miniscule needles, poking and prodding against your reddened cheeks.

A rustle pulls your attention to the small room of the tower, Daryl had been one to volunteer to take watch with you that night. Something about him conjured the most perplexing yet fond feelings of affection rooted within the centre of you, sometimes you think that there may be something yet sometimes you are sure he was sending signals that there is nothing. Ghost of minor grazes against your skin that had been seared into place, yet were so easily covered as if they had never existed.

Daryl Dixon is one confusing man.

“ no one taking over yet? “

You shake your head at Daryl, a few strands of hair are horridly disloyal to their place and tumble in front of your vision, that is hurriedly rectified as it throws you off balance. Sometimes you had no idea how to behave in front of him, it’s something you wish to confront as you know you cannot continue this way.. especially as tomorrow is never and has never been a guarantee, clearing the air is the only answer.

“ um, not yet. it’s still early though. “ you reply, a latent tremblant that almost completely breaks into your tone, the anxiety you had when you dedicate thoughts to your family going out tries to haunt you like a spirit would. You have already lost so much from the simple things.

“ they better move their asses soon. “

Of course, you have been relieved from watch duty and before you have even thought about breakfast you’re already hauling your heavy limbs to your cell.

Your eyes scan the room to find what you need, a backpack that is shrouded by the intense gloom and darkness that dominates the cramped room filled to the brim with an infinite amount of blemishes from top to bottom. You know that many happy memories do not occupy the room, let alone the building.. but it’s something you intend on changing. You move swiftly to pack it with all the supplies, your mind conjuring scenarios from nothing and every single one more horrifying than the other.. the drive to protect your heart from any more loss is the central force moving you to fill its empty space.

“ the hell you doin’ there? “

The abruptness of the voice sends your pulse skipping, not expecting anyone to bother you so soon.

“ I can’t sit here while they go out there. “ you don’t turn to look at Daryl, you already know the expression that is dyed so densely as he watches your crouched form. “ i tried, but i have to go.. i have to make sure they’re okay. “

“ you don’t trust ‘em? “ asks Daryl, he’d noticed your strange behaviour, he’d not said anything to anyone but the concern he feels is beginning to take on a life of its own. Knowing he would have to share with Rick if you become worse, it’s not something that he wants to do but if it brings some peace to your troubled mind he would.

“ no -- it’s not that! I just.. “

Daryl emits a scoff, he doesn’t mean to be so cold with his demeanour, but divulging anger and rage when he cares is all he knows. His upbringing created a perfect fusion of uncertainty, fear and suffering. One that blends into such a perfect mixture that any time he has to confront an intense situation, all that is expressed is a fire that burns anyone in its path. It’s taken time to be able express himself in healthier ways, but sometimes he finds himself fleeing to the same old habits.

“ what? ‘cause you’re gonna keep on going out there and it’s gonna get ‘ya killed! “

“ you don’t get it. “

Daryl barges his way through the empty doorway, before you even realise it the backpack that had been held firmly in your hand now lingers at your side, an emptiness that your grasp finds itself itching to rip back to its former place. You have your mind set in stone that you need to protect them, you can’t lose another person, the last time you had missed one.. it didn’t turn out so well, and you lost a friend. It was a pain that had your heart feeling as if it was being compressed under an unbearable weight, it’s a childish whim that refuses to back down. The urge to protect clouds everything you see, knowing that if you are there, then you have done everything in your power to ensure that life keeps on going, even if it limps pathetically along.

“ y’think I’m some sorta dumbass? that it? “

“ no! I just -- “ you can feel your entire being beginning to heat up from the pent up fear and frustration that have been building block upon block that is so close to tumbling down in a chaotic fashion. Your fingers move up to clench strands of your hair in exasperation, the phantom pain from your grip enough to prevent yourself from spilling over.

“ y’just what? huh? “ Daryl moves closer towards you, you can see that he wants to say more, to do more.. his eyes speak volumes, they say much more than his mouth does.

The aches that Daryl can feel within him never fade, they never dull, not when he can see what has been occupying your mind is causing a dramatic shift in you. He doesn’t know how to approach the subject, tender conversations have never been his forte.. and the fact that it’s.. well, you. He can’t pinpoint when he began to notice you more and more, but the thought of harm befalling you is something that sends ice through his veins. He doesn’t want to be in a world where he would never see you every day.

“ if I was there.. then maybe, I don’t know. I could have done something. “

Silence is thick, as thick as the dust that still continues to haunt the floors of the cells, no matter how much they are cleaned and wiped away. You can’t wipe away the horrors as easily as dirt.

You turn to face him, you slowly lift yourself as an unwavering tenseness lines every inch of your limbs. It sounded silly now that you have admitted it to another human being, but it is still real and it’s still how you feel.

“ what? y’think you can take on a horde of walkers? it was a suicide mission and they knew it. “

“ how can you be so careless? “ you ask him, a horrified expression staining your expression.

“ I’m seein’ you go down the same road, I ain’t gonna be part of that. you keep goin’ like this, it’s gonna kill ‘ya. “

The words run circles in your mind, a marathon that feels as if it will have no end. It explains his behaviour towards you, the warmth you receive one moment and the sudden shift to a numbing chill that felt as if you were no more than strangers. You hate that to be able to get information from him, you have to be arguing, it’s not something that can be allowed to continue.

“ tell me why. “ a demand comes from you, your voice sounding the most steady and enduring since the argument began. You sigh, feeling defeated. You hate the bubbling concoction of negative emotions that are brewing more and more from the exchange.

“ ain’t hard to figure out. “ Daryl has directed his attention to the floor, unable to meet your sight. He doesn’t want to see what is written on your face, his mind bolting to the worst possible explanation as it always does.

Moving towards what could only be described as a pitiful form of a bed, you drop yourself roughly onto the raggedy mattress and pat the space next to you. Your eyes follow him as he contemplates his next movement, if he decides to move toward you to forgo it all and pretend as if what you had just spoken about had not existed.

Luckily for you, he situates himself on the far side, his hands only slightly fidgeting as he waits for you to speak. It has to be you.

“ Daryl, why don’t you want me to go? “

“ I can’t see ‘ya get killed, just can’t. “

Before you even can truly comprehend what it is you’re doing, you inch a pinky finger towards the hand that lays resting dormantly at his side and allow it to curl into one of his own. The tenderness of the moment is not missed by either of you, both of you not knowing how to proceed. Daryl wasn’t used to being shown such softness in this context, he wants to hate it.. To squeeze the life from the feelings that it evokes, but he can’t. He doesn’t want to.

“ Daryl.. is there something there, or am I imagining it? “

“ y’aint goin’ crazy. “ he acknowledges, providing the spark that alights a bright burning hope within you.

“ is this why you don’t want me on the run? “ you inquire as a grimace comes flooding onto your face, your knees jumping as you struggle to contain your energy.

“ shit -- you look like you’re about to drop everytime I see ‘ya. “

As you battle yourself to contain the upturning of your lips, you shuffle closer to him. You felt the exhaustion every day threatening your entire being, you truly had no idea how you have not yet succumbed to it. Days at the prison are never easy, there’s always something to do and that work is nothing less than formidable and punishing on the human body.

He cares about me, you think to yourself timidly.

You take care in slowly leaning your chin on his shoulder and bringing a hand to rest on his back. Waiting for a signal to do otherwise, a rejection.. but it doesn’t come. It’s allowed, something you joyfully see as progress. You allow yourself to take in the comfort from the simple gesture, sorely missing having even the simple solaces that bring a much needed warming glow in the pit of your stomach. It hurts that he doesn’t even know how important he is to everyone, but more so to you.

“ Daryl, this isn’t something I can just kick. It’s not that easy. “

“ not somethin’ I’m asking. you need t’take care of y’self. “

Before your mind even registers it, you can feel a small weight on your free hand that lays dormantly on your hand. His thumb is drawn back and forth on yours, the patterns bringing a sense of soothing to you that had not blessed you in what felt like an eternity.

“ well.. maybe you can help me? “

There’s a hesitancy that the two of you can recognise, you wish with your whole soul that you could be stronger in asking. You’ve tried and tried to rid the negativity from within you, but every time you think you have, it comes back stronger than ever. More and more resistant than it was previously, its claws drawing more blood from you as it secures its hold in a much more impressive manner.

“ ain’t even gotta ask. “

[soundsof71]

for the album thing: born in the usa :)

I could write a book about any of Bruce’s records from Born To Run to Born In The USA. I did in fact write my grad school thesis using Nebraska as the hook: ”Vehicles of Grace: Automobile Imagery and Salvation in the works of Bruce Springsteen and Flannery O’Connor” LOL which is one million percent true. 

In fact, I bought Nebraska on my first day of class in grad school (a whole story by itself), and BITUSA came out as I was finishing my coursework two years later. It’s hard to overstate how hard this one hit, but my reaction was kind of complicated, so I’ll tell ya all about it.

the first song from this album I heard: “Dancing In The Dark”, which came out as a single before the album. Followed immediately by “Pink Cadillac”, its b-side. We played the SHIT out of that song in particular, far more than the A side, and were dumbfounded that it wasn’t on the album. 

do I own the album?: Obvs, but there’s a story. Of course. My girlfriend and I bought it on vinyl the day it came out in June (we weren’t married yet, but we’d merged our record collections the previous year LOL), then for my birthday in August, she bought me a CD player for like $800 (they were expensive as FUCK when they first came out -- and $800 was even more of a fuckton of money back in those days, especially for a couple of grad students), with one CD, Born In The USA. That one CD was more than reason enough to spend the dough on a player.

I still have that CD, along with the ticket for show where we saw Bruce on our honeymoon in England, at St. James Park in Newcastle, in June 1985. He’d just gotten married too (the first time), which is a whole ‘nother story too. Oh, and I still have the sweatshirt from that show! I'll post a picture of all this some time.

my favorite song: Wellll....here’s where it gets kinda complicated. Bruce had a notoriously hard time picking songs for the record. He’d recorded something like 50 songs for the album, and once he cut the list to 30 or so, he kept asking people he trusted to pick THEIR favorite running order. (Dave Marsh talked about this in his book Glory Days: Bruce Springsteen in the 1980s, and I haven’t heard it much discussed since then.) It’s hard to argue with the finished results, but you know what? I kinda do, still, all these years later. LOL 

My favorite song OF the album, no question, is “Shut Out The Light”. (Check my tag for this song to hear some more about it.) It was first released as the b-side to the 7 inch single of “Born In The USA” (remarkably, the third single from the record), and wouldn’t show up on CD until 1998 on the Tracks anthology. Tracks was 4 CDs in all (should probably have been 6 discs, and COULD have been 10), but I bought the whole thing for THIS.

My favorite song ON the album: “Downbound Train.”

my least favorite song: “Darlington County”. 

a song I didn’t like at first, but now do: “Dancing In The Dark”. I’m not alone in this. Miami Steve famously HATED the song at first, and only came to appreciate it after years of playing it live. I still remember never more eagerly anticipating an album in my life, and never being more upset by the advance single. I was devastated.

Here’s why. Born to Run came out when I was 15. “Gotta get out while we’re young!” The romance of escape, with the last two songs, still grandly romantic, hinting at its costs. 

Darkness came out when I was 17. Narrator: “They did not escape.” LOL Ghosts, bitterness, compulsion, cursed by God. His estranged wife’s eyes “filed with hate for just being born”, while “Tonight I’ll be on that hill ‘cause I can’t stop.” 

The closest thing to hope: a whispered “Tonight my baby and me are gonna ride to the sea / and wash these sins from our hands.” I was a senior in high school and the dream was already dead. Awesome. LOL

The River came out when I was 20. The only hope is domesticity. Too bad that it’s suffocating and you’ll fuck it up. LOL Want to wash the sins from your hands? Sorry, the river is dry. “Is a dream a lie if it don’t come true / Or is it something worse./ that sends me down to the river?” Yikes!

The shows for this album were astounding. The album was soooo much darker than it first appeared, and the catharsis in the performance was rewarding, sure, but almost unbearable. You were left broken and crawling by the end of the night. In a good way. LOL 

Nebraska came out when I was 22. Murder, mental illness, ghosts, more murder, compulsion, and as a treat, a little more murder. LOL 

The one song I couldn’t stand was “Reason To Believe”, because I didn’t believe there was one, and I didn’t believe he did either. But boy did I love the album as a whole. Like I said, my grad school thesis started here, because I had too much to say about Nebraska and the sweep of Bruce’s literary roots and spiritual impulses NOT to write about it. 

(Not shockingly in retrospect, and a blessing for us all that he went through with it and is still at it, but Bruce’s therapy started here too.)

So from 1975 to 1984, things got darker and darker and darker. It was beautiful. LOL And hey, this was MY LIFE we’re talking about, too! From 15 to 24, I was listening to Born To Run, Darkness, The River, and Nebraska practically on a loop, and the more hopeful stuff was becoming less and less resonant. 

Sure, there was Rosalita and Thunder Road and Badlands, plenty of dancing and pumping fists, but I was dwelling in darkness, and living for it. On my best days, I was wounded, not even dead LOL but I barely listened to Born to Run by the end of this span. It was mostly Darkness and Nebraska. 

I couldn’t wait to hear what was coming after the highest body count in recorded history on that album. LOL I knew it wouldn’t be acoustic again, but man, he was cutting closer and closer to the bone each time out. How much farther could he possibly go?

And it was....Dancing In The Dark? What the actual FUCK? Practically fucking disco or something? WHA....? I loved dance music, especially in the 80s, but I didn’t need it from Bruce. I had that from other people. Oh well, at least the b-side was cool, so maybe the album won’t bite. LOL BUT THEN PINK CADILLAC WASN’T ON THE ALBUM. FUCK.

The album didn't bite, of course, but it took a looooong time to get over this huge dual disappointment of a chirpy disco single by an artist I barely recognized, and whom I now felt I could no longer trust to manage his own creative mission.  

My wife wrapped her head around it first (as is usually the case LOL). She dug it as the closest Bruce had yet come to putting his actual self in a song. The narrator is a writer, anyway, unlike every other song he’d ever written about jobs he never held for a single second (an observation that would form the bedrock of Springsteen on Broadway 40 years later).  

Now, I totally dig it. If you’re naughty enough, I might even post my ukulele cover of Dancing In The Dark. LOL

a song I used to like, but now don’t: None. The songs I loved, which is most of ‘em honestly, I still do. Everything about this album has gotten better with time for me, and nothing about it has gotten less so.

my favorite lyric: 

From “Shut Out The Light”: Oh mama mama mama come quick I've got the shakes and I'm gonna be sick Throw your arms around me in the cold dark night Hey now mama don't shut out the light 

From “Downbound Train” The room was dark. Our bed was empty Then I heard that long whistle whine And I dropped to my knees, hung my head, and cried

Bruce was gonna try to give me a happier record, but I was having none of it. LOL 

For the record, “Downbound Train” is my wife’s favorite track on the record by FAR, at least partly because it sounds like a band version of a song that could have followed Nebraska. I prefer Shut Out The Light because I heard the story of my own mental illness in it for the first time, but yeah, Downbound Train is amazing.

I only saw it live once at the time (in Newcastle, June 4, ‘85), but it really comes to live onstage -- true for all of Bruce of course, but this album more than any other imo.

overall rating out of 10: Then: 8. Now: 9.2.  The shows were unbelievably good (we saw three shows in three different countries on that tour) and it sold a buttload, but I still couldn’t shake the feeling that after the run of Darkness - The River - Nebraska, that this was a missed opportunity at best. 

Time and distance heals all LOL and I now love it. Not more than the four before it, but more than anything since. A masterpiece, by any standard.

[drxwsyni]

Petrified (pt.2)

Yandere Erasermic x f!Reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

a/n: okaayy this took longer to write than i was hoping for but here it is!

4.2k words

Warnings: some harassment, light injury

It amazed you that despite the extreme overuse of your quirk in the past thirty-six hours, you were still able to hold on to a remaining amount of wavering consciousness. You’d like to think it was because you’ve grown stronger after using it so much over the past few years. In reality, it was most likely due to the chilled wind that blew against your form keeping you awake as you walked home, mind still reeling from the events towards the end of your shift.

On a normal weekday the venture back to your apartment would only take roughly fifteen minutes, twelve if you took a few less than safe shortcuts. Now however, the concept of time was not something your short circuited brain could understand. With limbs feeling like they were made of lead, you could only imagine how much longer this ordeal was going to take.

With your brain on autopilot, you let your thoughts wander in hopes that you’d just blank until you reached your destination. That was until you met the familiar alleyway to your left on the sidewalk.

Doing a quick cost-benefit analysis, you deduced that in your state, shaving off a few minutes of travel time with this detour may be crucial if you want to make it home without collapsing before you got there. Although you were aware of the shady business that went down in areas like this, the alleyway was the only option if you wanted to fall asleep in your own bed.

It was pitch black outside, a few dim street lamps serving as the only form of illumination. The alleyway was dark, but there was just enough light bouncing off the walls for you to discern the narrow path ahead.

You made a final decision, turning down the path despite the pit in your stomach that had just begun to form. I just need to focus on getting home, you told yourself, attempting to calm your nerves.

About thirty feet in and you realized just how stupid you were for ever thinking this was a good idea.

On the other side of the alleyway, the only exit to the narrow path, you could just barely see the silhouette of a tall, large figure step into the clearing. Squinting, your clouded brain slowly identified that the person, seemingly a man, was gradually walking in your direction. 

By now you were about halfway through the passage. Understanding that the man likely had bad intentions, you pivoted on your heels and sped up back down the way you came.

...At least that’s what you were going to do, but blocking your path, lazily sauntering in your direction were two more equally large statured men.

Just like that your heart sunk into the now gaping pit in your stomach, the feeling giving you whiplash. Frozen in place, you felt your heart pounding as if it were ready to burst right through your chest. It’s okay, just give them your bag and run for it if they try anything, it’s not like you’d lose much anyways.

You looked back around to see the first figure had drawn close, now standing roughly ten feet away. Head whipping to face the other two again, you found them to have closed the same distance.

One of them, you couldn’t tell who in the darkness, spoke up. “Hey there cutie, what’s a little lady like you doing out all by herself?” His voice was rough, sounding like he smoked a pack a day.

Behind you the other man joined in, startling you. “Yeah, don’t you know how dangerous it is at night baby?”

At this point he had produced what looked like a crowbar. He may have had it before, but your memory was already failing you. The effects of your rapidly increasing heart rate were becoming unbearably severe at this point. Seeing black spots forming at the edges of your vision, along with a dizziness that felt sickening, you wondered if you’d even be able to reason with these guys. 

Somehow you sputtered out a defence. “I-I swear, whatever money I have y-you can take it. I really don’t want any trouble, I promise.”

You hear a low chuckle behind you, but you didn’t turn around, or rather you couldn’t, fear taking root and holding you in place.

“C’mon now sugar, we just wanna have a little fun is all. Why don’t you just be good and play along, yeah?”

Nothing you could’ve done would make any words come out of your mouth in protest. Instead, all you could comprehend was the sudden absence of noise around you. 

The men hadn’t left, and there was still the sound of distant life outside the alleyway that could probably be heard. But none of that was being processed in your mind.

Dimly, you could see the man in front of you talking, his mouth moving to form words, but it was clear now that the surge of panic and adrenaline had incapacitated your form. Your hearing had failed you, replaced with what sounded like blood rushing through your head. 

It was time for the rest of your body to follow suit, crumbling under the severe exhaustion and aggressive response from your body trying to activate its fight or flight senses.

Knees buckling beneath your form, your body swayed slightly to the side as you collapsed hard onto the concrete. Laying there completely limp, your eyes fluttered closed with heavy eyelids. You processed that nothing you could do would prevent unconsciousness, effectively giving up.

It took a few more seconds for sleep to completely envelope you, now unable to even lift a finger in protest. Maybe it was just hallucinations from your lucid, half asleep state, but you could’ve sworn you could make out the distant sounds of loud cursing from multiple people. Maybe even a few pained grunts here and there.

But that comprehension was swiftly cut short, your body finally succumbing to its stresses, knocking you out like a light.

_______

Hizashi was seated in a cushioned armchair positioned just off the edge of the hospital bed so he could keep an eye on the figure laying in front of him. Eyes unmoving from that one spot, he watched the rise and fall of your chest as your unconscious form remained otherwise still.

For a moment he glanced at his wristwatch, seeing that he’d been looking after you for a little under two hours, now being 11:06 pm. During all this time your form had remained in what the doctors had explained as pretty much a coma, brought on by extreme strain of the body’s energy. It wasn’t likely to last long, but the reasoning behind it was concerning enough that they’d administered fluids which you were also lacking by an equally unhealthy amount.

Having more than enough time to think, the voice hero attempted to deduce any possible explanations as to how you’d let your health deteriorate so much. He’d had his fair share of experience when it came to seeing what the effects of overworking can have on the human body. This however was most definitely up there, especially for someone in your line of work.

Bringing him out of his thoughts, a nurse lightly rapped on the door before entering. “Pardon me Yamada sir, but visitor hours ended at 9 pm. I’m going to have to insist that you leave for tonight. You can come again starting at 6:30 am tomorrow however.”

Knowing he’d overstayed his welcome, the blond silently agreed, standing out of his seat and grabbing his jacket that was hanging off the back of it. He gave you one last look, inwardly wishing there was more he could do for you at the moment, before taking his leave.

Hizashi was headed back to his car when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket, pulling it out almost frantically.

From: Shouta <3

Just got back from the station. I already know what you’re going to say, just tell me when you get home and focus on driving. See you soon.

11:10 pm

It was obvious his partner was equally concerned over the state you were in, especially given how he reacted when they apprehended the thugs trying to take advantage of you. Knowing he’d have to wait so as not to irritate Shouta more than he likely already was, the voice hero put his phone away and traded it for an electronic key, unlocking the sleek, black car and stepping in.

The ride home felt like it took ages, his mind still racing whilst going over the events from that night. Attempting to ease his conscience, Hizashi decided to take the time to figure out what he’d say to his partner. Specifically, how they’d deal with you.

_____

When he finally pulled into the driveway it felt as if he was going mad, still reeling from the thoughts of what could’ve happened if him and Shouta didn’t find you in time.

Pushing those scenarios to the back of his head, the blond stepped out of the car and made his way to the front entrance. He typed in the combination to the keypad, hearing the locking mechanism shift before reaching for the handle.

It was silent in the house as he walked in, closing the door behind him. Looking over to the dining room table, he saw the bouquet of flowers you’d arranged for Shouta that night, beautifully settled into a vase.

Distantly, Hizashi could hear the thumping of footsteps above him. Knowing who they belonged to, he resolved to hang up his jacket before anxiously waiting for his partner in the living room.

On queue, Shouta made his way downstairs, hair still wet from showering. Plopping down on the living room couch with an audible sigh, he started. “I got the information of the guys who attacked (y/n) before I left. They’re behind bars so there’s nothing more we can do.”

The blond was leaning against the mantle of the fireplace, arms crossed while anxiously tapping his foot as if waiting for permission to start his rant.

Expectedly, his partner lazily waved, as if to say ‘get it over with.’ In truth, he knew what Hizashi was going to say, and he agreed, but the fact of the matter was that his partner always ended up being overzealous with his passions. The only thing that mattered right now was working out a way to properly deal with both of their concerns.

“Y’know when ya told me how tired the poor thing looked after coming home last week from the shop, I thought you meant like how you look after patrolling all night.”

Shouta disregarded the insult, knowing full well how he appeared sometimes after doing so.

“But this is just―she fucking passed out from getting scared, that shit ain’t normal Shou’.”

His counterpart let him calm down for a second before acknowledging the situation. “I know, you think it doesn’t bother me just as much?” He leaned back into the sofa, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment. “I didn’t think it was this bad. But it could honestly just be a medical problem. Chronic fatigue, severe anxiety...or something like that.”

The blond lightly shook his head. “Maybe, it’s just… I don’t know babe, something seems off to me. And I know you’re thinking it’s me overreacting again, but would ya just hear me out?”

The frustration in the air was palpable, neither being able to settle on a flimsy excuse. “No, you’re not overreacting. I got the same feeling, we just can’t jump to conclusions right now, got it?”

Hizashi’s shoulders slumped in a mixture of relief over the mutual understanding of concern, and defeat for having to hold off on his suspicions.

As if his counterpart knew exactly how the man felt, he continued. “Let’s just wait it out for a bit. Hell, how many people have we seen go through similar things. It’s likely she’ll just have to rest up for a bit. Nothing to worry about.”

The blond sighed, “Sure, whatever―I’m still gonna check up on her tomorrow though, ‘kay?”

“Of course. Now go take a shower, I can smell you from here.” 

The atmosphere became a little less tense, having reached a conclusion.

Hizashi chuckled lightly before walking off in the direction of their bedroom, leaving Shouta to relax in the comfort of a quiet house.

_____

The sound of a steady, electronic beeping was the first thing you could make sense of as your body gradually gained back its senses. It was hard, but you channelled every ounce of energy in your body to open your eyes, albeit halfway, to assess your surroundings.

The first thing you noticed was the warm lighting cast upon a bleak white ceiling above. It felt comforting, serving as assistance to calm the growing worry you felt from not knowing where you were. It was likely late in the evening or perhaps sunrise you concluded.

Moving still proved to be difficult, so instead you opted for momentarily trying to piece together what scattered memories you had. 

Vaguely, you recall going home after your shift, noting the holes in the messy timeline from what you assume was fatigue-induced memory loss. Next was the unforgettable sense of dread you felt after being trapped by two...no, three people? There were a few lines of conversation thrown around by the perpetrators which you couldn’t quite remember the exact contents of, and given the situation maybe that was a good thing. That’s where the encounter ended, and you were left to assume that like the Saturday shift incident you had long ago, you passed out mostly from exhaustion.

With that done you forced yourself to identify the current situation at hand. It seemed judging by the sterile looking ceiling and walls, along with the telltale beeping sounding off to your left, you were in a hospital room.

It also seemed that you were lying on a somewhat stiff bed, blankets covering you from the chest down, the weight of it revealing its presence. Aching for more information, you struggled with the dead weight of your form with a low groan, moving to prop yourself up on your left elbow. 

From this position you could see the heart monitoring device clipped onto your index finger, along with an IV protruding from the top of your hand. Following the tube connected, your eyes landed on a bag of clear fluid hanging on a metal post behind you. The sudden movement catching up to you, a low throbbing formed in the back of your skull, prompting you to hold your head in the hand not secured with medical equipment.

Sighing, you weakly sat up fully in bed and saw that your clothing had been replaced with a hospital gown. You were still so out of it that the quiet sound of a light snoring noise to your right almost went unnoticed. But it didn’t, and you turned your head slowly to the source.

Awkwardly slumped in a cushioned chair to your right was a man, deep in slumber with his head hanging slightly to the side. You assessed his sleep induced state, eyes traveling over his features.

Long black hair hanging loose around his shoulders, mild eye bags, scar under his right eye.

Little by little your memory identified him as the same man who you’d assisted twice now at the floral boutique in which you worked at. What was his name again? It started with an s right? Sh...Shou….God, what was it?

“Shouta! Get up!” A loud voice boomed to your left, causing you to dizzily swerve your head in its direction. Standing in the doorframe of your single patient room was a tall, blond haired man carrying a bouquet of flowers in his right.

Present Mic, you thought, or rather Hizashi, something he made startlingly clear for you to call him.

Jarred awake at the disturbance, the once sleeping man sat up abruptly in his chair, eyes falling on your deeply rigid form.

And what exactly are they doing in your hospital room, much less alone with you while you were sleeping? 

Most likely sensing the uncomfortableness mixed with confusion in your demeanor, Shouta spoke up. “I’m sorry, we don’t mean to alarm you in your state. I take it you’d like an explanation as to how you ended up here.”

Hizashi had found his way to the right side of your bed, not after setting the flowers down on a side table first. You waited a few more seconds, collecting your thoughts before responding.

“Um...yeah. That would be nice I guess.” You ended up croaking out the response from the dryness and lack of recent speaking.

The voice hero sat down on the edge of the bed, a small but warm smile on his face almost as if to ease your nerves. “Well songbird, your lucky Shouta and I found ya when we did last night. You’d gone and passed out while some nasty ol’ guys tried to attack you.” 

There was a pause before his counterpart continued, giving you a moment to let the new information sink in. “We decided to go on patrol together for a few hours after leaving your shop. Our sources mentioned some criminal behaviour around the area you were in, so naturally we went there first.”

With these crucial bits of information revealed, you picked at your memories once again. Vaguely, the sounds of what you now presume to be fighting were the last things you can recall.

“And thank god we did. Ya must have been so frazzled that the scare put you to sleep. Can’t even begin to imagine what would’ve happened if you were alone.” Hizashi’s point didn’t make you feel better, but he was right, last night was a combination of your worst qualities happening all at once.

You must have visibly shuddered at that statement too, mind wandering to the plethora of possibilities those men could have gotten up to. “But nothing more happened, I can assure you. ‘Zashi and I dealt with the guys and called the police to pick them up. We were worried about your condition so he carried you to his car and drove you to the hospital before an ambulance arrived to save time, I stayed to wait for backup. You’ve been asleep since.”

Silently, you noted the reduced throbbing in your head, figuring the impact of your skull crashing into the pavement was to blame. And then it dawned on you, You’ve been here long enough to be changed into a gown and given an IV?

“Ah...exactly how long have I been asleep?” Your voice was shaky, weak even from just having woken up and still feeling the ache of fatigue.

Shouta decided to relay this piece of news, using a calm tone in an attempt to not alarm you. “The attack happened last night at around 9:15, it’s roughly 6:30 in the evening right now so you’ve been asleep for almost a whole day.” 

Oh...well that’s definitely cause for concern. On the bright side it’s a new record! But, if that’s the case then how long have they been waiting for you to wake up…

If it was a long time then you’d feel bad for ruining their Friday night, and all of their Saturday. This realization alone was enough to give a skip in your heartbeat.

“I stayed with ya for a bit while Shou cleared some stuff up with the police, but I ended up gettin’ kicked out not too long after by the nurses cause of visitor hours being done and all that. We both came to check on you this morning and he’s stayed here since then. I just got ‘ere to switch shifts but whaddya know, our sunshine was up ‘n awake.” 

Great...you thought, so you had ruined their day. You’d have to deal with making up for that later once you got out of this place, but for now...wait, our sunshine?

...Okay, just ignore it (y/n), he did save your life after all so a little shameless endearment can’t hurt, right?

“I’m really sorry for taking up so much of your time. You don’t have to stay any longer, I’m sure you guys are pretty busy.” You had no reason not to send them away, feeling horrible for making the two think they had to look after you. In addition to that, you barely knew the men outside of what kind of flowers they liked, so the unfamiliar circumstances were a little unsettling.

You could hear Shouta sigh at your dismissive response, to which you thought he was relieved to finally be sent home.

“If we were concerned about wasting our time we would have left a long time ago. We’re here because we want to be, not because we have to.”

Strangely, that didn’t make you feel any better. “Still, I feel bad for keeping you…”

There was a brief silence in the room, and if you weren’t currently hanging your head in shame then maybe you would’ve seen the subtle but conspiring looks exchanged between the two men.

The blond was the first to break the silence, something he seemed to be good at. “Well...if you’re feelin’ that bad there’s certainly a way to repay us.”

Your head perked up at the proposition, anxiety settling due to not knowing exactly what this repayment could entail. 

Thankfully, Hizashi didn’t seem to want to watch you squirm with anticipation. “Why don’t ya stop by our place once you get out of here. Shouta and I’d love the extra company.”

His counterpart continued after a moment. “We always end up making more food than we need for dinner, the accommodation for one night would be no trouble.”

Naturally, the prospect of being asked to spend more time with these men after you’d already been such a burden was unexpected. You’d think after all this time it would only be normal to send you on your way. Yet, here they were, continuing to leave you stunned at their actions over and over again.

If this is what it takes to appease them, then so be it. Surely you can handle having dinner with them, right?

The two waited patiently for your response. It took a second, but you managed to gather your thoughts for a comprehensive answer. “I suppose… although I don’t see how this helps me repay you in any way.”

“Nonsense, songbird. Shou’ wouldn’t admit to it, but he’s been a bit worried that you’re not takin’ care of yourself, with all the work ya do. Nothing a good meal can’t fix, ya dig?” Hizashi positively beamed at your acceptance to the request, making it hard to deny him. Especially since, although silently, Shouta wished to see this through as much as him based on the explanation.

You smiled, the reassuring atmosphere easing the tension in your body. “If that’s really what you want then I guess it couldn’t hurt.”

It looked as if the erasure hero was about to speak, but before he could, a knocking on the door stopped him. 

Waiting a moment before entering, a nurse opened the door. “I would’ve appreciated it if you two informed me immediately when she woke up.” She reprimanded the two heroes for their irresponsibility before making her way to the unoccupied side of your bed.

“I need to discuss some matters with the patient, why don’t you head home for the night.” She regarded the two without looking in their direction, instead examining the IV bag and writing something down on a clipboard.

You gave them an apologetic look, clearly they wanted to talk a bit longer than they were being allowed. 

Shouta stood from the armchair, gathering his jacket in his arms with Hizashi following suit. 

“We’ll see ya later, ‘kay sweetheart?” It seemed the blond simply had a habit of dishing out loving nicknames, and at this point you were getting used to it.

The erasure hero continued, “Get some rest, one of us will check up on you tomorrow morning.” 

You managed out a quiet “Okay,” and they were gone before the nurse could scold them for taking up more time.

Finally having the privacy she needed, the nurse regarded your current state. “Okay then, hun. Let’s see how you’re doing.”

_____

The next hour or two was filled with various exams and consultations. You were told exactly what you’d been expecting. Which was basically along the lines of blacking out due to exhaustion combined with hitting the pavement pretty hard. You didn’t bother to mention that the occurrence was most likely also slightly induced by the sudden panic attack, figuring that it wasn’t quite as important.

At the end of the day you were told that in light of the situation and your poor health, it was necessary that you’d have to remain in the hospital for another day at least. After that it was a matter of judging whether your condition had improved.

You were brought dinner, barely regarding the dull taste as your hungered state simply couldn’t care less. Frankly, the after effects of the prolonged fatigue were still causing you to feel intensely drowsy, and so the rest of the night happened in a blur.

The next thing you knew, you’d settled back down to into your bed, ready to accept another long slumber.

End of Part 2

_____

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