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#He adds a like grit to his voice so it sounds more suited to such a slapstick character
0callme-mimi · 1 year
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Great work enviorment - Aaron Hotchner
A/N: None TW: smut, age gap (not significant), cursing, canon-typical violence, boss-employee relationship. 18+ pls or I’ll block u :) Summary: Strauss wants to know more about your relationship with your unit chief, where do you even start? Word count: 2.2k
“Agent Y/L/N, please come in” an elegant lady said, opening the office door so that you could enter, Strauss already waiting for you inside. Your hands were sweating heavily, you felt the same way when you were first told about this interview. Shit.
“Agent. To my office. Now!” Aaron yelled from his office, he sounded mad, but you knew that could also be cue to something else, but boy were you wrong.
“Yes boss” you whispered seductively right after closing the door behind you.
“Quit that” he said softly without looking at you, he had both hands resting on his desk facing you, staring at his desk. You slowly walked towards him until you were beside him.
“What happened?” you said while caressing his suit covered  bicep. He looked at you.
“Strauss knows. I don’t know how, but she came in personally to my office today.  An inappropriate relationship with the youngest member of my team, she said.”
“Are we fired?” you said louder than you were planning. 
“Would you keep your voice down?” he gritted “No, at least not yet. They´re conducting an interview this Friday” 
“What are we gonna say?”
“The truth. What else?” he said, sitting down on his chair and rubbing his forehead. 
“And what would that be?” 
“I persuaded  you into having an affair with me a couple months ago”
“That's not true!” you yelled, your voice  filled with anger
“Keep. Your. Voice. Down” he said glaring at you.
“You´re just going to play yourself as a creepy and abusive boss and that's not what happened” 
“That's how they're going to see it, there's a power imbalance between us in case you haven't noticed, that in itself is abusive”
“It’s not that simple Aaron, and you know it, you never forced me to do anything I didn't want to, they need to know that”
“My name is Miriam Jones, I work in HR and I will be conducting this interview, you can sit down. We will be recording this interview, we need signed consent” the lady spoked, handing you a piece of paper. 
“I still haven’t been told what is this about” you said looking at Strauss 
“We were notified there was a … situation with your unit chief, we just have a couple of questions” she answered
“Shall we begin?” Miriam said
“Sure” 
Click
“State your name for the record.”
“My name is-”
“Louder”
“My name is Y/N Y/L/N”
“Could you describe your relationship with your unit chief: Aaron Hotchner” and God you had no idea where to begin.
Your laughs melted in one as he was finishing his story, a task that seemed impossible to complete due to your interrupting giggles every time he would add a detail to the anecdote. You were laying beside him on his bed, your head resting on his chest enjoying the tranquility of a sunday morning. 
“Wait wait so does this mean you were a theater kid?!” you squealed at the realization
“Hell yeah. I was in almost every musical the school did, I loved it” he said proudly
“Ew” you said giggling, causing Aaron to burst into laughter again
“What do you mean ‘ew’? You don't like musicals?”
“I love musicals but I HATED theater kids. They were always doing the most and … OH!” 
“Oh?” he asked holding in chuckles
“Did you ever do Flash Mobs in malls and shit like that?” You turned to look at him, his face was glowing and he was wearing a beautiful carefree smile, those were rare. At that moment there was no doubt in your mind that he was the most handsome man in the world.
“Oh right I forgot about those. We would do them in the hallways in the morning, it was so embarrassing” he then looked at you, expecting more teasing from your part only to find you staring, he wanted to ask what was going on but before he could process it you said:
“I love you Aaron” he gasped, he had to pinch himself to make sure it was all real. It was.
“And I love you” he confessed.
“Well… he's my boss” you answered, remembering what Hotch had told you about keeping your answers simple.
“Is he just your boss?” they already knew the answer, there was no point in lying.
“Well, we are friends also, we will sometimes meet after hours, ma’am” 
“Would you say it is platonic or more… personal?” she asked, again, she already knew the answer.
“W-we um we had shared more … personal moments” you said, cringing at how you chose to phrase that.
“Has it ever gone sexual?” she asked as if it was the most normal and rutinal question. You were at the loss of words, there was no escaping that one.
“Yes” you said quietly
“Could you say that lo-”
“Yes” you responded louder than needed.
“For the next question I want you to remember that you are in a safe space and we are here out of concern. Okay?”
You nodded, weirded out at the statement.
“Did he forced or manipulated you into doing sexual favours for him?”
“WHAT? No! It wasn’t like that at all.” you responded rather offended. Of course you knew they were going to take that stance but it didn’t make it less horrifying.
“Okay. No reason to yell miss. How would you describe it then?”
“Mutual. Ever since the beginning it was on my terms, if anything I was the one insisting” 
“Beginning? Why don’t you tell us how it began?” 
Your heart was pounding against your chest. Your gut was telling you it was wrong but if it was so wrong why was he kissing you back?
It wasn't the first time you had kissed, but it was the first time neither of you stopped. He was grabbing your back pushing you into his chest as you straddle him, grinding softly against him.
“No wait” he whispered against your mouth “I swear this is not what I came here to do”he said.
“I know but I’m glad you did” you said before leaning in and kissing his neck.
“Wait seriously” he stopped you, you knew he wanted it, you could feel that he wanted it, but there was still a trace of doubt, maybe guilt on his face. 
“I promise you this is what I want, if you’d have me…” you said sincerely, looking into his eyes hoping he believes you.
“Of course I want you, but  I want to do this right. Are you sure this is your head talking?”
“Yes” you said confidently. He smiled.
“Okay then” he closed the small gap between the two of you and kissed you passionately, his lips slowly began to lower down your neck as you rocked your hips against his now very noticeable bulge.
“I have imagined this more times than I want to admit” he huffed against your skin.
“Tell me all about it” you answered in bliss “We have all night”
“So the first time you were together was while you both were working in another state?” she asked, not concealing at all her judgment.
“Yes. But we didn’t plan it that way, he just needed a second opinion on something and he came into my room and it happened”
“So your boss, who is also a lot older than you, went into your hotel room in the middle of the night, had sex with you and then leave? Is that what happened?” the lady said while writing something down.
“NO! I mean, yes but you are taking it out of context. It was work related” you responded even angrier than before.
“Was it?” she asked in a know-it-all tone that you didn´t fucking like.
“Yes. I was the one who initiated it, I am not a victim!” you yelled
“There is still a very big power difference between you two, I am curious why you believe you both are favorable in this situation. I mean you’re young, successful, beautiful… I just don't see what you are gaining from it… perhaps a better salary?” 
“We enjoyed each other's company, we were friends and we have stayed that way but we also liked each other. And we didn’t mix the personal with the job” you answered
“Really? Because his actions on the field suggest otherwise” she handed me a report that I recognized immediately. 
It all happened so fast you couldn’t even react.  You were outside a small cabin in the middle of nowhere, a man was kidnapping women and drowning them, he showed signs of impotence and he felt insecure around people, the last victim was rescued just in time and all that was left to do was catch the unsub, and you and Hotch were sure he was in that very cabin, the surprise came when you found him inside with a gun pointing at you, that´s where the mess started.
Just when you dropped the gun to get him to trust you, he grabbed you by the neck and put his gun to your head. This was definitely not how you planned this to go.
“I’m okay! I'm okay!” you told Hotch, but you could see the worry in his eyes, his hands were shaking a little, the fear on his face was something you didn’t want to see ever again in your life, you knew that if that lunatic decided to shoot it was over for him. You thought about Haley, how sometimes you could even see the burden he carried on his back, he told you about his fear of losing people and here you are, your reckless ass had put you into a situation that could end your life and possibly ruin his.
“Malcolm I need you to be reasonable, killing an agent will cost you everything, you don’t have to do this. Don’t throw your life away like this” his voice cracked and it suddenly became real.
“S-st-stay back or I'll shoot her!” he yelled as tears began streaming down your face.
“Please don’t” he pled “I promise that if you let her go I will get you out of here safely”
You felt the unsub behind you, the distinguable body signs that  he was giving himself up, he relaxed his body and lowered his gun and then BAM. Aaron had shot Malcolm, the scared and young man was dead, his blood making a puddle around your feet. You were shocked.
The next few minutes Aaron kept asking you if you were okay, checking your body for any wounds, you couldn't even speak, and he couldn’t stop, as if his words could distract you from what had just happened.
“We got to wait before the team arrives, you should probably go outside to get air, on maybe you could get in the car and turn the A/C, maybe the radio-”
“Why did you shoot him?” you finally mutter, he tensed.
“I don’t know… I don’t usually act out of impulse, you know that, it’s just…”
“Just what?” you asked holding his hand
“I was so scared, I thought about losing you and I just couldn’t risk it, you were in danger you have to understand” he explained
“He was surrendering sir” you insisted, he winced a little at the nickname.
“I know that. I just saw him putting the gun against your neck and I reacted out of instinct. I realized he was giving himself up when it was too late. I am so so sorry” he said, and at this point both of us were crying, clinging onto each other.
“With all due respect ma’am, I do not” you answered, she opened her mouth in surprise. “We are not doing anything against the rules, we do not act unprofessional at the workplace, I don’t receive any special treatment and it is not abusive as you can tell.”
“I am going to make it simple. This relationship ends or you’ll both be terminated” she threatened.
“If you are willing to lose two of your best agents to prevent gossip go ahead, but good luck finding a team as efficient as ours” 
A void and awkward silence filled the room, Strauss and you just staring at each other wondering which of you dared to say anything else.
Click
“Okay! I believe that was all. Thank you so much for your time Y/N. We’ll let you know how the situation will proceed” Miriam said and she gathered her stuff quickly.
You walked out of the office and went directly into the parking lot just to find your boyfriend in his car waiting for you, his eyes widened when he saw you and signaled you  to get into the car.
“So what did they say?” he asked 
“Well, they don’t exactly ship us” you said making him chuckle “They will let me know on Monday”
“And what did you say? What we practiced?”
“Ummm…”
“Goddamn” 
“To be fair I did tell you I wasn’t going to say that crap! I told them the truth but they weren’t exactly moved by our love story”
“Of course they weren’t. Now they are probably going to fire us both” he said, starting the car. 
“So no more office sex?” You asked with a hint of humor 
“Noup, only unemployed sex from now on” he answered before driving away.
“Sounds good to me” you said in a more serious tone
He just smiled. Yeah he thought It does sound good.
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ahgasegotarmy116 · 3 months
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How would JK react if oc said to him, "if only our children would know what a horrible monster their true father is," after he taunts her about saying my children instead of our children? He might be a horrible monster, but I'm sure that he loves them to a certain extent. xx
He definitely does love them but at his core he will always be oc's living nightmare.
Do it for... Mini Masterlist < read for context :)
~~~~
"Jungkook you can't keep showing up like this" I say following him to what I can assume are the children's rooms.
"Am I not allowed to come see my children?" he ask, walking over and peeking into my son's room. Taking note of him sleeping, along with my daughter doing the same in her room next door, cooing when seeing their angelic faces, and closing the door silently.  
"They're not your children they're mine" I say with that same anger that always stirs up inside of me whenever he comes around.
"How many times do I have to tell you angel? They're our children" he says walking away from their rooms and into my husband's office. "If only our children knew what a horrible monster their real father is" I say fighting back, losing what little patients I have left for him. "If only they knew what a terrible slut their mother is. Not even bothering to put up a fight when I offered her a solution to all of her problems"
I bring my hand up and slap him, not realizing what I had done until I feel the sting on my palm and see his face turned to the side. 
He chuckles a bit and turns his gaze back to me with a twisted smile, showing me he actually thoroughly enjoyed that. "Get. Out." I say trying to sound strong but losing more and more strength as time goes on, making seconds feel like hours.
"I didn't come here to argue love I just-". "I said get out" I order through gritted teeth, walking past him towards the front door, praying that he will just follow suit and leave. 
"That one is going to cost you love" he says and trails his fingers down my spine but before I'm able to react fast enough to stop him he's already gone. 
I shut the door behind me and lean my back up against it and sink down to the floor. "Fuck" I say aloud, doing my best to keep my voice down as to not wake the children. Running my fingers through my hair as a way to try and calm myself down I hear a ding from my phone signifying a new notification has come in.
Tomorrow at 8, and wear that dress you know I love xx
Taglist: @jkslipppiercing @trina864 @kaitieskidmore97 @goddesofimortality @coolbluedude @00frenchfries00 @bangtans-momma @coralmusicblaze @pastelpinkjoon @joonwater @marvelbun @j3nni-rs @evidive @beomieboi @forevrglow @jesssssmaybankk @teugiie @chaconnelatte @whoa-jo @snehal @xumyboo @mindurbuzznezz @diorh0seokie @hehurst23 @caro134340lina @ye0nvibezzn @olimpiiaa @hrtsj1m @junecat18 @ellesalazar @babycandy111 @felixz4life @lively-potter @esther-kpopstan @gyukookswhore @iveivory
(I was too lazy to add the taglist for a while so you'll be getting a few notifications for a bit...)
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zeroducks-2 · 11 months
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Concept: Slade sends Bruce a video featuring him fucking Dick (consensual or otherwise.) (more fucked up if it's otherwise.) Bruce has to figure out whether to try to ignore the resulting hardon or jerk off to the thought of Deathstroke rutting his son.
NSFW under the cut!
Dick has a busted lip, blood on his chin and bruises on his neck, like he was repeatedly choked with a belt. His hair is mussed and messily sticks to the sides of his head, and the way his arm is twisted behind his back looks painful even for someone as flexible as him. Everything from his position to the thin but visible sheen of sweat covering him, especially the barely audible croaks that make it out of the pillow his face is pressed against, everything screams that he's in pain and that he's being tortured. But Bruce knows better.
«What will your daddy think when he sees you like this, little bird?»
Bruce can't properly see Wilson from there, his face is out of the camera angle. But the black and orange suit is impossible to mistake, and so is the timbre of his voice. He's holding Dick's arm so high against his back it looks like he's about to break his shoulder, moving over him in a way that suggests just how deeply Dick's body is swallowing his cock.
«He must be wondering how well you'd suck him off.» Wilson adds, his hips rolling. Dick weakly pulls on the bedsheet with a choked noise that goes straight to Bruce's crotch, clearly enjoying the grinding motion. «You'd be such a good little boy for him, letting him fuck your pretty mouth. Wouldn't you?»
Another hand goes up and cards through Dick's locks in a rough caress. The boy keens and reaches into the touch, but his hair gets grabbed and his head roughly yanked up. Bruce can see his glossy look, his spread lips. The camera lens fogs up for a moment at how hard Dick is panting and gasping.
«Daddy would fill you up so good.» Wilson resumes moving, his hips gradually lowering on Dick's buttcheeks, making him feel every inch. Dick moans and his eyes roll upwards, in a way which tells Bruce that he's been taken many times, that he can't come because he doesn't have any juice left. «He'd stroke your cheek and remind you to take it in slowly, not be greedy...» The man adds in a lower voice, and Dick moans through gritted teeth, his dilated pupils meeting the eye of the camera. «And once you managed to take him all in, he'd be so proud. He'd beam at you while his cock is deep into your throat, telling you how much of a good boy you are.»
Dick makes a sound and fists at the bedsheet, his body shaking as his orgasm hits and grips him tight. He just came untouched and dry, and as Wilson quietly laughs, straightening up resuming to roughly fuck him from behind, Bruce wipes his hand with a tissue and tucks himself back into his pants.
He'll delete this video. He will. Just not now.
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jasntodds · 6 months
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Petrichor Chapter 10 Teaser - Full Chapter coming 09/27
Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb) Teaser Words: 2,049 Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, canon character death, canon drug use, drug use, blood, bruises, injuries, look the anti-fear drug turns perfectly innocent people into raging murderers and makes them do things they would never do and that's all I'm gonna say for that one, canon violence, violence Summary: ❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work. Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞ Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now. A/N: My life blew up last week so I've done nothing besides rewatch CSI so here's a teaser lol You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary  and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭
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Jason, on the other hand, he knows you. He knows you want to meet up to check on him, yes. You’ll always want to check on him after any sort of fight with anyone. It’s what you do. But, he also knows you're going to have questions about him attacking Dick and the other Titans. You tipped him off, sure, but maybe you didn’t think he was going to actually attack them. He knows you're going to question him about it, probably lecture him. He doesn’t want to listen to it. He can’t listen to it. A part of him will want to break if he does and he knows it. He knows he will if he goes there clean. So, he doesn’t. He hits the inhaler and pockets it before heading to the alley.
Jason gets there first, hiding in the shadows until you show up. You're on your bike, completely suited up. You don’t want anyone seeing you with him. Not the real you. Red Hood is pissing off a lot of people and you already have enough shit you're dealing with. The last thing you want is a target painted on your civilian self for being seen with him.
You dismount the bike, popping the helmet on the handlebar as you look around. Jason walks out from the shadows, wearing the suit and the helmet. Of course, he is.
“I’m fine.” Jason states. You don’t like how the helmet makes him sound.
“Yeah, well, had to see for myself.” You let out a breath as you close the rest of the distance between you.
“You don’t have to worry about me anymore.” Jason takes the helmet off and he isn’t smiling or grinning. His expression is flat and your heart starts to sink.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean, Jay?” You shake your head, Jason getting a hint of annoyance in your voice.
“I mean I’m fine.” He rolls his shoulders, his voice flat.
Your eyes are scanning over him and it's dark but you're pretty sure he doesn't have any bruises. It seems either the helmet and suit did a good job of protecting him tonight or Dick didn't get a hit in. That's at the very least a small relief but Jason Todd has never been fine. You're starting to think he doesn't actually know the definition of the word.
“Right. You have said you’re fine a hundred times and not once have you actually been fine.” You cross your arms over your chest.
Jason's teeth grit for just a split second. “Don’t fucking worry. I told you. I got this handled.” Jason holds the helmet on his hip, his stance strong and sturdy.
He’s different than he was yesterday. He was grinning and smirking because it’s him. Whenever he claims to be fine, he gives you a grin as if that’s going to melt your worry away. But, not tonight and he seems bored and defensive.
“Why are you being so…weird?” You raise a brow at him.
Jason brushes you off, thankful for the drug coursing through his system. He’d never be able to deal with this without it.
“I’m not weird.” Jason defends.
“Yeah, you are. You’re acting weird.” You argue.
You don’t get it and maybe you won’t ever. But, this is him now. He’s not acting weird because this is the new him. Red Hood, fearless. He has no worries or fears anymore, just a mission. Jason swears he’s not acting weird, you're just expecting the old him.
“This is just the new me.” He lets out this sort of chuckle that doesn’t sit well in your stomach.
“Uh-huh. Right. You seemed…kind of normal last time but now you seem…off.” Your eyes scan over his face and your heart is in your throat, the formula running through your mind.
“Just glad to be doing what Bruce couldn’t.” Jason holds his head up high with ease.
“This conversation is going fucking nowhere.” You let out a sigh as you look to the ground.
You came here with the intent to be sure he's fine. It was to get some sort of answer. A real, solid reason not to tell Dick anything. Dick is going to have so many questions when you get back tonight. All of them will be about Jason and what his new plan is now that he's alive. You need a reason to keep what you do know to yourself and Jason is giving you every reason to be worried enough to talk to Dick.
“So, go home.” Jason scoffs but he’s not even offended or upset. It’s like he doesn’t even care.
Your attention snaps back to him. “What the fuck? I’m worried about you and you don’t even care?”
It's not that he doesn’t care. The drug numbs part of that but not entirely. It can’t otherwise they wouldn’t be able to have a plan in the first place. Jason has to be able to care about the city and the people he’s trying to protect otherwise there is no plan. It’s not that he does not care, it’s that he doesn’t care to go through the arguing in circles game while you dig for information.
“What else did you want? I know you want something else.” Jason dodges the question on purpose, knowing he won’t even feel guilty about it.
A lump forms in your throat as he dodges the question. He comes back to life and is, generally, normal but now he’s not? How is that even possible?
“Dick knows you’re alive.” You swallow the lump and if he’s going to pretend like this doesn’t hurt him, fine, you’ll do the same.
“Yeah, broke my other helmet, had a backup though.” Jason looks down to the helmet on his hip and then back to you with ease, the very corners of his mouth twitching into a grin.
“Oh, I’m so glad you have a spare helmet, Jason.” You snark through a scoff. “Unbelievable.” You look down and this is not how you wanted this to go. “Why did you try to shoot him?”
“He was in the way.” Jason answers casually.
The Titans are going to get in the way and Dick is the leader. Without him, the Titans will fall apart. Crane is right about Dick. He thinks he’s better than Jason. He thinks he’s the golden child, and he always was to Bruce. Bruce couldn’t even be bothered to kill the Joker for Jason but he would have for Dick. Dick dropped him from a skyscraper. Dick got him kidnapped and tortured. This all comes back to him and Bruce. 
Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head and you're sick of the games with him right now. “Are fucking joking!?” You finally yell. This isn’t funny. Dick is his brother, he’s your friend. He could have killed him. What the fuck is wrong with him?
“Nope.” Jason gives you a grin. The drug loves confrontation.
This is not the Jason you once knew.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You glare up at him. “He’s in your way? Well, damn Jason, maybe don’t attack the fucking Titans.” You gesture your hands out as you shrug your shoulders.
Jason’s blood starts to boil as you yell. You swore you weren’t working with them but from where he’s standing, it sure as shit seems like you are. Crane said you would. Crane said you’d start working with them the second you found out what he was doing. Maybe he was right and it’s pissing Jason off. You're supposed to be on his side.
“I thought you weren't fucking working with them.” Jason seethes. You lied. You lied to him. Of course, you're working with them. Maybe Crane was right about you, too.
But you tipped him off. 
“I’m fucking not! But I give a shit about them. In case you forgot, Dick saved my life twice. Gar is our best friend. Conner saved your life. Kory fucking tried to save our lives. I know you care about them. Why the hell would you go after them?”
“Dick treats me like shit. I’m fucking no one to him. He thinks he’s so much better than me.” Jason scoffs. “You said Rachel was his lap dog, but look at you now.” Jason laughs cruelly as he closes some of the distance between you. “You're the one screaming at me and defending him.” Jason shakes his head, looking down at you.
If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he were trying to intimidate you.
Maybe you don’t know better.
“You tried to kill him! He pisses me off sometimes, too but I don’t want him dead! I’m not his damn lap dog, either. I just don’t know what the hell is going on. And you won’t fucking tell me.” You grit your teeth, standing toe-to-toe with him.
“That’s because it’s none of your fucking business, but don’t worry, babe, you’ll see soon enough.” Jason offers this grin that you can’t tell is him taunting you or threatening you. And from here, with him nearly standing on top of you, can see his eyes better.
His pupils are dilated and your heart is suddenly in your throat. On the one hand, making a drug and selling it to innocent people is really bad and you were hoping that was not it. But, on the other hand, a part of you thinks him taking something is worse in a way. The formula screams from the back of your head and Dick's general concern about it, Jason's weird and erratic behavior before he died. Him going after the Joker. He's definitely high and you have no fucking idea how you missed that either or what even lead him here.
“Literally, are you high right now?” You question him, hoping against all odds whatever he's on will make him tell you, like an overconfidence thing. “Because the Jason I know wouldn’t be laughing and trying to kill the Titans. The Jason I know wouldn’t be being such a fucking dick to me right now.”
Jason lets out a laugh, ignoring your question because he's not playing into your hand. “So, go home.” There's a wicked look in his eyes as he looks down at you. And it hurts. “This is me, new and improved.” There's almost something threatening in the way his eyes darken to the deepest shade of evergreen you've ever seen.
“If you think this an improvement, I have news for you. The new you sucks.” You spit back.
It’s like the drug loves confrontation. It’s as if confrontation triggers something. The drug is supposed to suppress fear. That’s the point of it. But it seems to do a few other things. If confrontation starts, it’s like Jason gets an adrenaline boost but not in self-defense, instead, it’s more like skydiving. It’s actually fun, it doesn’t matter who the confrontation is with. It’s fun. Thrilling. Jason doesn’t realize that maybe that was Craen’s plan. He’s a mad scientist. Maybe the drug is meant to suppress his fear but maybe it’s meant to control other parts of him in just the right way to do his bidding. Like using confrontation as another drug. Jason doesn’t see it. He can’t see it because the drug, at the end of the day, is Crane’s creation. Because Crane is the one pulling the strings behind the curtain.
And unfortunately for you, you're kicking up the confrontation.
Jason’s smile falls as he shakes his head. There’s an anger that sparks across his eyes, something you've never directed at you. “Really? Not what you fucking said yesterday. Not what you said earlier today when you tipped me off.”
“You weren’t like this yesterday or earlier.” You argue, holding your ground.
Jason steps forward, making you take steps back until your back hits the alley wall behind you and your heart spikes. Your head isn’t throbbing but a very small part of you, is a little bit scared. This isn’t him. Jason wouldn’t try to kill Dick. Jason does not threaten you. But there's a look in his eyes and if he's willing to kill Dick and attack his friends, what's he willing to do to you?
“Go. Home.” Jason warns.
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blondiest · 9 months
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NEALLO / BLONDIEST
WRITING MASTERPOST
ships i have written for:
hellcheer (eddie/chrissy from stranger things season 4)
meronia (mello/near from death note) [sideblog: @neallo]
this blog is almost entirely SFW, but my writing, which i frequently share on here, does not always fall into that category. minors please do not interact with my mature or explicit fics!
find below a list of fics i have posted, separated by fandom and completion status! (note: hellcheer fics not yet added to this list)
death note fanfiction
complete:
hot soup on a cold day
rating: T | category: M/M | chapters: 5/5 | words: 15.6k | series [1/2]
“Roger,” Near says urgently, tapping the old man’s shoulder. “Roger, Mello needs another pillow.” Roger gives Near a questioning look, slight disapproval in his eyes “He’s not making me get him one,” Near clarifies. “Mello is asleep right now. He just doesn’t look comfortable, that’s all.” Roger looks like he’s about to protest, so Near adds— “And I have my mask, so I won’t get sick.” The headmaster sighs, pointing down the hallway towards the linen closet. Near retrieves the perfect pillow— not so old as to be sagging, but not so new as to be overly stiff. Once he props Mello’s head up better, gingerly moving the older boy’s head as he sleeps, he finds Roger again. “I think Mello’s room is too cold. Do you have a space heater I could use?” Roger massages his temples. “Ms. Peterson may have one in her classroom,” he replies / “Very well, I’ll ask her. Thank you, Roger.” The white-haired boy shuffles away, determined. He’s distantly aware that he's being a pest to Roger, but it's all in aid of a good cause. Mello is sick. Mello almost never gets sick, and Near is the expert on being sick, so Near is going to make sure Mello is as comfortable as possible.
hot tea on a cold night
rating: T | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 800 | series [2/2]
Mello is half-asleep when it happens. He’s half-asleep, and he thinks Near is totally asleep, but then the younger boy wriggles in his arms, burrowing closer under the covers, and murmurs: “I love you.”
it’s you and me, that’s my whole world
[part 1 of together (always)]
rating: T | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 3.5k
Once she reaches the first floor and steps out of the elevator, Near hears a voice floating down the hall. It’s a woman’s voice, so it must be Lidner, but the pitch of it and the cadence of speech seems painfully similar to the way Mello talked, even without being able to hear the actual words. The closer she gets, the more it sounds like her dead lover, and Near curses how cruel her mind’s tricks are. She has to grit her teeth and breathe in deep to get herself to push through the door into the main office, feeling almost nauseous with grief again already. A blonde woman in a red winter jacket stands with her back to Near, but she turns when the toy in Near’s hand clatters to the ground. Mello’s eyes are tired, underlined by dark circles, but she grins. “Hey, Near.”
i know i’m gonna lose you (but god, i don’t want to)
[part 2 of together (always)]
rating: E | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 3.5k
Near’s bedroom— her tidy little suite in her untidy little makeshift headquarters in a high-rise hotel in Tokyo— is lit only by the shine of the city and the glow of the moon. Because the moon is full and because the city is bright, Mello can see her perfectly. Every little hair on her arms and legs catch the light as she sheds her soft, simple bra. The only thing Mello has taken off so far are her gloves. -- In which Mello rings in 2010 with some good old-fashioned lesbian sex and a minor emotional crisis. prequel to it's you and me, that's my whole world.
there's nothing i want but you
[part 1 of i want to hold you (hostage)]
rating: T | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.5k
Though Near doesn’t really mind Mello’s tendency towards jealousy, he also doesn’t understand it. There’s no one in the world Near wants the way he wants Mello, no one who matters the way Mello does— he’s everything to Near. There’s no reason for him to feel jealous of anyone else. Near doesn’t get jealous of anyone else. Until, one day, he does.
nothing hurts like you do
[part 2 of i want to hold you (hostage)]
rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 3.8k
Mello shoves him against the wall, his free hand moving from Near’s hair to the center of his chest as he holds the gun just inches from his forehead. He gives Near a once-over, quick, and at first Near thinks he hasn’t noticed anything amiss, but then an unkind smile unfurls on his face. “Hands up,” Mello says, grinning manically.
i want to hold you (hostage)
[part 3 of i want to hold you (hostage)]
rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 4/4 | words: 21.7k
Rico asks, casual, what Mello will want next, what he’ll aim for after he gets the notebook, and suddenly it’s like the ground has dropped out from underneath him, because the first thing that comes to mind is Near. His stomach sinks as he tries to regain some semblance of composure, fighting off imaginings both tender and cruel, furious with himself for being so weak-minded. Near, he thinks forcefully, is in the past. He isn’t an option for what’s to come— and even if he was, Mello wouldn’t want him. (He wouldn’t.) (He wouldn’t.) (God. He can’t even convince himself anymore.)
my only one, my smoking gun
[part 1 of our love is god]
rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 4/4 | words: 3.3k
For as long as he can recall, he’s ached over Near. It wasn’t always like this, though; he didn’t realize he wanted Near until it was too late to actually have him. He should be grateful, really, because he’s been able to linger here after death, and that’s more than he deserves, but God, Mello would give anything to kiss him just once.
heaven is a place on earth with you
[part 2 of our love is god]
rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.4k
There is no blood or body of Christ, no priest and no pews, but it’s here and now that Mello finally rediscovers a long-lost sliver of faith. Hands on Near’s hips, Mello lowers his face and presses his mouth to Near’s soft abdomen. “I love you,” he murmurs, head bowed and eyes shut as if in prayer.
replication in reverse
[part 3 of our love is god]
rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.4k
Mello mumbles something into his neck, something to the effect of waiting until Near is ready for him to move, but Near only halfway registers it. Golden hair tickles his nose, and he pictures mitosis— prophase, metaphase, anaphase, telophase— then imagines cytokinesis in reverse. Two cells pushed together until, somehow, their membranes connect, two phospholipid bilayers self-arranging into one continuous structure, cytoplasms mingling. He swallows thickly and longs for something impossible.
starry eyes sparking up my darkest nights
[part 1 of you got your eyes from the stars]
rating: T | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 930
Near has a nightmare on the flight back to New York after the end of the Kira case; Mello, still tipsy off of the red wine they served in first class, is unexpectedly tender.
fireworks somewhere far away
[part 2 of you got your eyes from the stars]
rating: T | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 2k
It’s the fourth of July. Or, rather, it’s still the fourth of July in the United States, which is where they live, but they’re in Madrid at the moment, so technically where they are it’s the fifth. It’s not hard math to figure out what time it is back home— it’s a little before six in the morning here, so it’ll be a little before midnight in New York. Somewhere on the West Coast or in the Rocky Mountains, though, there are fireworks going off. That’s what Near is thinking when Mello kisses her for the first time.
engaged
rating: M | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.4k
“So, like, I suddenly realized… Near is into me. Like, Near wants me.” He pauses as if to allow this to sink in, looking at Matt like this is still a groundbreaking revelation the second time around when it in fact was not even groundbreaking the first. Near’s crush has been obvious to literally everyone but Mello for the past ten years. “Yes. This surprised you. And also me, because I definitely did not know that Near was into you before you told me fifteen minutes ago.” Mello nods, satisfied, entirely missing Matt’s sarcasm, which might be for the best. “So, naturally, I slept with him.” “Naturally,” Matt says. Mello does not miss the sarcasm this time. “If you’re just going to be a judgmental bitch the whole time, I’m not going to explain it again. You should be smart enough to remember what I fucking said the first time anyway.” “No, yeah, I actually think most well-adjusted people would sleep with their sworn enemies the moment they find out they’re into them.” Matt smiles tightly. “It wasn’t the moment I found out,” Mello says petulantly. “I waited like, four hours.”
it’s friday, i’m in love
rating: M | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 2.7k
Mello abandons a night out in favor of seeing (and holding and kissing and sleeping beside) Near.
early arrival
rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.5k
It’s one in the morning and Near is wide awake, talking to Mello in hushed tones as the other passengers sleep soundly around them. According to the small screen on the back of the seat in front of him, they’re more than halfway through the flight, but it’s far from almost-over— it will be another three hours before they touch down in London.
Distraction (collaboration with @empressofthewind)
rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 2.9k
The small pout Near offers in response would, under normal circumstances, result in the rapid undoing of Mello’s resolve. Worse still is that Near has begun writhing in his lap; not quite grinding on him, but shifting his weight in a way that’s troublesome nonetheless. Mello huffs. Near is fully aware of what he’s doing. He knows the effect he has on Mello. He’s teasing him. If that’s how this is going to be, then perhaps Mello will do a little teasing of his own.
wedding doves & leather gloves
rating: E | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1k
“Don’t tell me,” Near says, derisive tone tainted by her words wavering. “You want to hear that I’m yours.” Exquisite pain blossoms across her scalp as Mello yanks on her hair. “Don’t be a fucking brat,” Mello hisses. “Answer me. What are you, Near?” “I’m a detective,” she replies flatly. “Just like you are.”
unknown caller
rating: E | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 3.3k
“What are you wearing?” Near’s brow furrows in confusion. “What I always have worn.” “Mm. It’s summer, so— linen, right?” “Correct.” She wonders, then, if Mello asked the question to prompt Near to ask the same in return. Sometimes people do that. This is something she has learned since Mello left. “What are you wearing?” Near asks politely. “I am wearing,” Mello says, breathy, “black lace. It’s this— this fucking expensive set, you know— nice lingerie. I look good in it.” The description is extremely vague. Near does not know what nice lingerie looks like— she wears the same kind of cotton boyshort underwear every single day and a soft, thin bra. She also does not, honestly, know what Mello’s aim is in telling her this. It seems unlikely that she would call for the first time in five years to gloat about her finery, so there must be some kind of purpose to it, she just— “I’m touching myself,” Mello announces. Near drops the phone.
shot in the dark (collaboration with @empressofthewind)
rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 8.2k
Mello’s posture changes, abrupt but liquid-smooth, shoulders squaring and spine straightening as he raises the gun until Near is staring down the barrel of it. Blood rushes in his ears, loud. Mello licks his lips. “Get up.”
something stronger than the drinks in the bar (matt/halle)
rating: M | category: F/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 2.3k
A former CIA agent and an exonerated felon walk into a hotel. There’s no punchline. They just fuck.
crying only because i’m happy
rating: E | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 575
In which Mello lovingly overwhelms her good girl.
there’s an ache in you put there by the ache in me
rating: T | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 975
The snow angels are, in all honesty, an excuse, a shameless attempt to get Near alone, to talk with him away from all these fucking people. He didn’t expect so many of their classmates to come back to Wammy’s for the holidays, but maybe he should have— after all, he hates this place, and yet here he is, half-drunk and dragging his ex-rival-turned-ex-something-else out into the cold.
works in progress:
there’s nothing i hate more than what i can’t have
rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 6/7 | words: 21.6k
“Ah, good morning,” Near says, and solely from the look on his face Mello knows he is missing some key fucking information. “I thought maybe you had left.” Mello shakes his head. He’s somewhat distracted by the fact that he still can’t tell if Near is naked; he’s shirtless, though, and that’s already ten times more of Near’s skin than Mello has ever seen before. Or, it’s more than he can recall seeing, anyways. And now Mello can’t stop staring at his chest. It’s so stupid, because Near is thin and scrawny and all pasty but Mello cannot tear his eyes away anyways— “So—” Mello’s voice fucking cracks as he finally manages to start speaking, a clear sign that some higher power is out to get him. He presses onwards anyways. “So, last night was…” He trails off, not even sure how he wants to finish the sentence, or if he wants to finish it at all. Near brings a pale hand to his hair and idly twirls a strand “Surprising,” Near completes the thought before glancing away. “But… not entirely unpleasant.” — In which Mello wakes up in Near’s bed after a night out and arrives at a wildly incorrect conclusion regarding the events that landed him there.
what doesn't kill me makes me want you more
rating: M | category: F/F | chapters: 3/? | words: 6.3k
“Poor Near,” Mello says, stepping closer and pulling Near’s head back further, tilting her face up as Mello cages her against the wall. “How long have you liked me?” Near’s heart is kicking against her ribcage so hard it almost hurts, and her ears are burning with embarrassment. She squeezes her eyes shut, unable to hold the blonde’s gaze. “Mello, I...” she tries to speak, hoarse. “Has it been months?” Mello asks, her voice getting closer as Near feels her lean down. She braves a glimpse through her lashes and watches as Mello bends her head to brush her cheek against Near’s, putting her lips next to Near’s ear. “Years, maybe?” The older girl teases. Near finds it in herself to squeak out a “yes,” and almost jumps at Mello’s sharp intake of breath. “Years,” Mello marvels.
all’s fair in love and war (and this is both)
rating: T | category: M/M | chapters: 2/3 | words: 10.0k
Near has Mello under siege, dragging him into a battle of wits, strategy, and stealth, one that has him in a state of constant vigilance, ever-ready for an attack. With his dignity and his ego on the line, Mello throws himself head-first into psychological warfare against his longtime rival, trying any tactic he can to help him turn the tide in his favor. The game is as complex and mind-bending as four-dimensional chess, and Mello has to think twenty moves ahead just to keep up, but he’ll be damned before losing to Near at this. Or: Near accidentally gaslights Mello into being his boyfriend, and Mello does Olympic-level mental gymnastics in order to read Near’s actions as sinister.
Minutes to Midnight (collaboration with @empressofthewind)
[part 2 of Time Together]
rating: M | category: M/M | chapters: 1/2 | words: 5.7k
This is the only issue Near has with letting Mello do all their debriefings: it’s easy for Near to stare, undetected and uninterrupted, for a long, long time. In New York, he mitigates this by spreading out on the floor and surrounding himself with toys or cards or dice. Whatever he needs to do to occupy himself. When they’ve travelled for cases before – which isn’t common by any stretch of the imagination – Near has relied on the movements and sounds of their colleagues to pull his attention away instead. The squeak of Rester’s chair, the tapping of Gevanni’s polished shoe, the sound of Lidner shuffling through papers. He uses whatever he can to keep his eyes off Mello. Out of sight, out of mind. Right now, he’s out of luck.
an unusual proposal
rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/4 | words: 2k
“So,” Mello says. “What do you think?” Near scrutinizes his rival. Mello fidgets with the chain attached to his pants, seemingly anxious but still gravely serious. The proposal is… unconventional, to say the least, and logistically rather complicated— there are at least four-dozen things that could go wrong, and that’s just off the top of his head. It won’t be easy. His decision, though, is easy. He does not want Mello to die, and this, strange as it may be, seems like the best way to protect him. “Yes,” Near says. “I’ll do it.”
faded to oblivion
rating: E | category: F/M | chapters: 1/? | words: 1.6k
When Near phoned and asked to see him, he had a few vague guesses as to what she might need from him. This was not on the list.
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neallo · 5 months
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28 | she/they | follows from @blondiest
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hi there! this is a compiled list of all my deathnote writing. this is a sideblog (i follow from @blondiest) and is also sometimes explicit. minors - please do not follow this blog or interact w/ explicit posts.
ships i write for in practice: mello/near, matt/mello/near, matt/halle
ships i write for in theory: matt/light, halle/naomi, halle/takada
below is a list of fics i have posted, separated by completion status. i also sometimes share excerpts/snippets of my writing, which can be found under the my writing tag; answered asks can be found under asks; original posts can be found under neallopost. i am not always that good at tagging things unfortunately :-) but i am. trying <3
complete:
hot soup on a cold day
rating: T | category: M/M | chapters: 5/5 | words: 15.6k | series [1/2]
“Roger,” Near says urgently, tapping the old man’s shoulder. “Roger, Mello needs another pillow.” Roger gives Near a questioning look, slight disapproval in his eyes “He’s not making me get him one,” Near clarifies. “Mello is asleep right now. He just doesn’t look comfortable, that’s all.” Roger looks like he’s about to protest, so Near adds— “And I have my mask, so I won’t get sick.” The headmaster sighs, pointing down the hallway towards the linen closet. Near retrieves the perfect pillow— not so old as to be sagging, but not so new as to be overly stiff. Once he props Mello’s head up better, gingerly moving the older boy’s head as he sleeps, he finds Roger again. “I think Mello’s room is too cold. Do you have a space heater I could use?” Roger massages his temples. “Ms. Peterson may have one in her classroom,” he replies / “Very well, I’ll ask her. Thank you, Roger.” The white-haired boy shuffles away, determined. He’s distantly aware that he's being a pest to Roger, but it's all in aid of a good cause. Mello is sick. Mello almost never gets sick, and Near is the expert on being sick, so Near is going to make sure Mello is as comfortable as possible.
hot tea on a cold night
rating: T | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 800 | series [2/2]
Mello is half-asleep when it happens. He’s half-asleep, and he thinks Near is totally asleep, but then the younger boy wriggles in his arms, burrowing closer under the covers, and murmurs: “I love you.”
it’s you and me, that’s my whole world
[part 1 of together (always)]
rating: T | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 3.5k
Once she reaches the first floor and steps out of the elevator, Near hears a voice floating down the hall. It’s a woman’s voice, so it must be Lidner, but the pitch of it and the cadence of speech seems painfully similar to the way Mello talked, even without being able to hear the actual words. The closer she gets, the more it sounds like her dead lover, and Near curses how cruel her mind’s tricks are. She has to grit her teeth and breathe in deep to get herself to push through the door into the main office, feeling almost nauseous with grief again already. A blonde woman in a red winter jacket stands with her back to Near, but she turns when the toy in Near’s hand clatters to the ground. Mello’s eyes are tired, underlined by dark circles, but she grins. “Hey, Near.”
i know i’m gonna lose you (but god, i don’t want to)
[part 2 of together (always)]
rating: E | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 3.5k
Near’s bedroom— her tidy little suite in her untidy little makeshift headquarters in a high-rise hotel in Tokyo— is lit only by the shine of the city and the glow of the moon. Because the moon is full and because the city is bright, Mello can see her perfectly. Every little hair on her arms and legs catch the light as she sheds her soft, simple bra. The only thing Mello has taken off so far are her gloves. -- In which Mello rings in 2010 with some good old-fashioned lesbian sex and a minor emotional crisis. prequel to it's you and me, that's my whole world.
there's nothing i want but you
[part 1 of i want to hold you (hostage)]
rating: T | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.5k
Though Near doesn’t really mind Mello’s tendency towards jealousy, he also doesn’t understand it. There’s no one in the world Near wants the way he wants Mello, no one who matters the way Mello does— he’s everything to Near. There’s no reason for him to feel jealous of anyone else. Near doesn’t get jealous of anyone else. Until, one day, he does.
nothing hurts like you do
[part 2 of i want to hold you (hostage)]
rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 3.8k
Mello shoves him against the wall, his free hand moving from Near’s hair to the center of his chest as he holds the gun just inches from his forehead. He gives Near a once-over, quick, and at first Near thinks he hasn’t noticed anything amiss, but then an unkind smile unfurls on his face. “Hands up,” Mello says, grinning manically.
i want to hold you (hostage)
[part 3 of i want to hold you (hostage)]
rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 4/4 | words: 21.7k
Rico asks, casual, what Mello will want next, what he’ll aim for after he gets the notebook, and suddenly it’s like the ground has dropped out from underneath him, because the first thing that comes to mind is Near. His stomach sinks as he tries to regain some semblance of composure, fighting off imaginings both tender and cruel, furious with himself for being so weak-minded. Near, he thinks forcefully, is in the past. He isn’t an option for what’s to come— and even if he was, Mello wouldn’t want him. (He wouldn’t.) (He wouldn’t.) (God. He can’t even convince himself anymore.)
my only one, my smoking gun
[part 1 of our love is god]
rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 4/4 | words: 3.3k
For as long as he can recall, he’s ached over Near. It wasn’t always like this, though; he didn’t realize he wanted Near until it was too late to actually have him. He should be grateful, really, because he’s been able to linger here after death, and that’s more than he deserves, but God, Mello would give anything to kiss him just once.
heaven is a place on earth with you
[part 2 of our love is god]
rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.4k
There is no blood or body of Christ, no priest and no pews, but it’s here and now that Mello finally rediscovers a long-lost sliver of faith. Hands on Near’s hips, Mello lowers his face and presses his mouth to Near’s soft abdomen. “I love you,” he murmurs, head bowed and eyes shut as if in prayer.
starry eyes sparking up my darkest nights
[part 1 of you got your eyes from the stars]
rating: T | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 930
Near has a nightmare on the flight back to New York after the end of the Kira case; Mello, still tipsy off of the red wine they served in first class, is unexpectedly tender.
fireworks somewhere far away
[part 2 of you got your eyes from the stars]
rating: T | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 2k
It’s the fourth of July. Or, rather, it’s still the fourth of July in the United States, which is where they live, but they’re in Madrid at the moment, so technically where they are it’s the fifth. It’s not hard math to figure out what time it is back home— it’s a little before six in the morning here, so it’ll be a little before midnight in New York. Somewhere on the West Coast or in the Rocky Mountains, though, there are fireworks going off. That’s what Near is thinking when Mello kisses her for the first time.
engaged
rating: M | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.4k
“So, like, I suddenly realized… Near is into me. Like, Near wants me.” He pauses as if to allow this to sink in, looking at Matt like this is still a groundbreaking revelation the second time around when it in fact was not even groundbreaking the first. Near’s crush has been obvious to literally everyone but Mello for the past ten years. “Yes. This surprised you. And also me, because I definitely did not know that Near was into you before you told me fifteen minutes ago.” Mello nods, satisfied, entirely missing Matt’s sarcasm, which might be for the best. “So, naturally, I slept with him.” “Naturally,” Matt says. Mello does not miss the sarcasm this time. “If you’re just going to be a judgmental bitch the whole time, I’m not going to explain it again. You should be smart enough to remember what I fucking said the first time anyway.” “No, yeah, I actually think most well-adjusted people would sleep with their sworn enemies the moment they find out they’re into them.” Matt smiles tightly. “It wasn’t the moment I found out,” Mello says petulantly. “I waited like, four hours.”
it’s friday, i’m in love
rating: M | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 2.7k
Mello abandons a night out in favor of seeing (and holding and kissing and sleeping beside) Near.
early arrival
rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.5k
It’s one in the morning and Near is wide awake, talking to Mello in hushed tones as the other passengers sleep soundly around them. According to the small screen on the back of the seat in front of him, they’re more than halfway through the flight, but it’s far from almost-over— it will be another three hours before they touch down in London.
Distraction (collaboration with @empressofthewind)
rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 2.9k
The small pout Near offers in response would, under normal circumstances, result in the rapid undoing of Mello’s resolve. Worse still is that Near has begun writhing in his lap; not quite grinding on him, but shifting his weight in a way that’s troublesome nonetheless. Mello huffs. Near is fully aware of what he’s doing. He knows the effect he has on Mello. He’s teasing him. If that’s how this is going to be, then perhaps Mello will do a little teasing of his own.
wedding doves & leather gloves
rating: E | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1k
“Don’t tell me,” Near says, derisive tone tainted by her words wavering. “You want to hear that I’m yours.” Exquisite pain blossoms across her scalp as Mello yanks on her hair. “Don’t be a fucking brat,” Mello hisses. “Answer me. What are you, Near?” “I’m a detective,” she replies flatly. “Just like you are.”
unknown caller
rating: E | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 3.3k
“What are you wearing?” Near’s brow furrows in confusion. “What I always have worn.” “Mm. It’s summer, so— linen, right?” “Correct.” She wonders, then, if Mello asked the question to prompt Near to ask the same in return. Sometimes people do that. This is something she has learned since Mello left. “What are you wearing?” Near asks politely. “I am wearing,” Mello says, breathy, “black lace. It’s this— this fucking expensive set, you know— nice lingerie. I look good in it.” The description is extremely vague. Near does not know what nice lingerie looks like— she wears the same kind of cotton boyshort underwear every single day and a soft, thin bra. She also does not, honestly, know what Mello’s aim is in telling her this. It seems unlikely that she would call for the first time in five years to gloat about her finery, so there must be some kind of purpose to it, she just— “I’m touching myself,” Mello announces. Near drops the phone.
shot in the dark (collaboration with @empressofthewind)
rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 8.2k
Mello’s posture changes, abrupt but liquid-smooth, shoulders squaring and spine straightening as he raises the gun until Near is staring down the barrel of it. Blood rushes in his ears, loud. Mello licks his lips. “Get up.”
something stronger than the drinks in the bar (matt/halle)
rating: M | category: F/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 2.3k
A former CIA agent and an exonerated felon walk into a hotel. There’s no punchline. They just fuck.
crying only because i’m happy
rating: E | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 575
In which Mello lovingly overwhelms her good girl.
there’s an ache in you put there by the ache in me
rating: T | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 975
The snow angels are, in all honesty, an excuse, a shameless attempt to get Near alone, to talk with him away from all these fucking people. He didn’t expect so many of their classmates to come back to Wammy’s for the holidays, but maybe he should have— after all, he hates this place, and yet here he is, half-drunk and dragging his ex-rival-turned-ex-something-else out into the cold.
works in progress:
there’s nothing i hate more than what i can’t have
rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 6/7 | words: 21.6k
“Ah, good morning,” Near says, and solely from the look on his face Mello knows he is missing some key fucking information. “I thought maybe you had left.” Mello shakes his head. He’s somewhat distracted by the fact that he still can’t tell if Near is naked; he’s shirtless, though, and that’s already ten times more of Near’s skin than Mello has ever seen before. Or, it’s more than he can recall seeing, anyways. And now Mello can’t stop staring at his chest. It’s so stupid, because Near is thin and scrawny and all pasty but Mello cannot tear his eyes away anyways— “So—” Mello’s voice fucking cracks as he finally manages to start speaking, a clear sign that some higher power is out to get him. He presses onwards anyways. “So, last night was…” He trails off, not even sure how he wants to finish the sentence, or if he wants to finish it at all. Near brings a pale hand to his hair and idly twirls a strand “Surprising,” Near completes the thought before glancing away. “But… not entirely unpleasant.” — In which Mello wakes up in Near’s bed after a night out and arrives at a wildly incorrect conclusion regarding the events that landed him there.
what doesn't kill me makes me want you more
rating: M | category: F/F | chapters: 3/? | words: 6.3k
“Poor Near,” Mello says, stepping closer and pulling Near’s head back further, tilting her face up as Mello cages her against the wall. “How long have you liked me?” Near’s heart is kicking against her ribcage so hard it almost hurts, and her ears are burning with embarrassment. She squeezes her eyes shut, unable to hold the blonde’s gaze. “Mello, I...” she tries to speak, hoarse. “Has it been months?” Mello asks, her voice getting closer as Near feels her lean down. She braves a glimpse through her lashes and watches as Mello bends her head to brush her cheek against Near’s, putting her lips next to Near’s ear. “Years, maybe?” The older girl teases. Near finds it in herself to squeak out a “yes,” and almost jumps at Mello’s sharp intake of breath. “Years,” Mello marvels.
all’s fair in love and war (and this is both)
rating: T | category: M/M | chapters: 1/3 | words: 5.3k
Near has Mello under siege, dragging him into a battle of wits, strategy, and stealth, one that has him in a state of constant vigilance, ever-ready for an attack. With his dignity and his ego on the line, Mello throws himself head-first into psychological warfare against his longtime rival, trying any tactic he can to help him turn the tide in his favor. The game is as complex and mind-bending as four-dimensional chess, and Mello has to think twenty moves ahead just to keep up, but he’ll be damned before losing to Near at this. Or: Near accidentally gaslights Mello into being his boyfriend, and Mello does Olympic-level mental gymnastics in order to read Near’s actions as sinister.
Minutes to Midnight (collaboration with @empressofthewind)
[part 2 of Time Together]
rating: M | category: M/M | chapters: 1/2 | words: 5.7k
This is the only issue Near has with letting Mello do all their debriefings: it’s easy for Near to stare, undetected and uninterrupted, for a long, long time. In New York, he mitigates this by spreading out on the floor and surrounding himself with toys or cards or dice. Whatever he needs to do to occupy himself. When they’ve travelled for cases before – which isn’t common by any stretch of the imagination – Near has relied on the movements and sounds of their colleagues to pull his attention away instead. The squeak of Rester’s chair, the tapping of Gevanni’s polished shoe, the sound of Lidner shuffling through papers. He uses whatever he can to keep his eyes off Mello. Out of sight, out of mind. Right now, he’s out of luck.
an unusual proposal
rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/4 | words: 2k
“So,” Mello says. “What do you think?” Near scrutinizes his rival. Mello fidgets with the chain attached to his pants, seemingly anxious but still gravely serious. The proposal is… unconventional, to say the least, and logistically rather complicated— there are at least four-dozen things that could go wrong, and that’s just off the top of his head. It won’t be easy. His decision, though, is easy. He does not want Mello to die, and this, strange as it may be, seems like the best way to protect him. “Yes,” Near says. “I’ll do it.”
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hendolish · 5 months
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Girlie that last benaaron fic got me like👀👀. Maybe another one but with car sex. And Aaron's like we can wait but Ben literally cannot and he practically jumps Aaron in the car. I'm such a sucker for desperate Ben you don't understand 😫😫
ben white/aaron ramsdale | desperate ♡ (smut)
The night air is crisp as Ben and Aaron step out of the dimly lit restaurant, their laughter lingering like a sweet echo. Ben's hand grazes Aaron's back, relishing the feeling of the smooth fabric of his suit under his fingertips.
Wine and a shared dinner have left him in high spirits, his usually reserved self giving way to a more playful, touchy-feely Ben that seldom makes an appearance. But Aaron loves it when he does.
They stroll down the quiet street, the glow of streetlamps casting a gentle, romantic sheen on the surroundings. Ben can't resist himself; he's drawn to Aaron like a moth to a flame. He slips his arm around Aaron's waist and pulls him closer, trailing a line of soft kisses along his jaw.
"You look well fit in that suit." Ben murmurs, his lips brushing against Aaron's earlobe.
Aaron chuckles, a deep, melodic sound that warms Ben's heart. "Flattery will get you everywhere."
Emboldened, Ben stops in his tracks, his fingers slipping beneath the collar of Aaron's shirt, caressing the nape of his neck. Their lips meet in a fervent kiss, a tangle of desire and affection.
It takes a while for them to reach Aaron's car, and Ben reluctantly breaks the kiss. The passion in his eyes is undeniable, a smouldering hunger that speaks volumes. He wants Aaron, and he wants him now.
Inside the car, they share a stolen moment, the privacy of the vehicle a haven for their desires. Ben’s kisses become deeper, more passionate, his hands exploring every inch of Aaron's body. It's impossible to deny the heat between them, and Aaron smiles against Ben’s lips.
"We should wait," Aaron murmurs, a hint of playfulness in his voice. He means they should hold off until they get home, but Ben is having none of it.
Ben shakes his head, his gaze intense. He crashes his lips against Aaron's, a fiery hunger igniting within him. He knows what he wants, and he's not one to wait; Aaron always gives him what he desires.
Aaron soon finds himself breathless, pushed back in the driver's seat as Ben climbs into his lap. Inebriated, it's not the most precise of manoeuvres and Ben curses under his breath as he knocks his knee against the gearstick.
"Not funny." He breathes out against Aaron's cheek as the blond can't help the laughter that bubbles out of him. Aaron takes Ben firmly into the circle of his arms in apology, grinding upwards to capture the shaky breath that falls from Ben's lips.
Their hands fumble, the urgency palpable as fabric rustles and belts unbuckle and soon Ben feels the gratifying touch of skin on skin, Aaron's heat pressed against his own.
"Please." The word rips itself from Ben's lungs as Aaron closes a hand around his cock, stroking it far too slowly. The smug look on the blond's face tells Ben he knows exactly what he’s doing and if he didn't look so fucking attractive right now in his suit jacket and tie, Ben would be having words with him.
Instead, he says it again, this time more desperate than the first, the need for Aaron to do something, anything, burning through his veins.
"Want me inside you?" Aaron checks with him eventually after Ben adds a few pleading kisses to the mix. Ben nods half-coherently as he presses his cheek against Aaron's, breathing heavily, "You still stretched enough?"
To have Aaron push into him with no prep, he means. Ben shakes his head, "Don't care." He probably is, but he would've wanted this either way.
Despite his own reckless attitude, Aaron still pushes inside of him slowly, gripping on tightly to Ben's hips so that he won't fall and take too much too soon. Ben grits his teeth as he takes each inch, the stretch burning in the best way, but he still manages to take all of Aaron's cock and can't help but feel pleased, grinning as he pulls Aaron into a kiss, the blond gazing up at him, mesmerised.
"Fuck."
Ben curses as Aaron begins to move, thrusting upwards into him at an unrelenting pace, the earlier fire burning between them rekindled. Aaron's large hands dig into the flesh of Ben's arse as they move together, the blond dictating their moves as Ben gasps and moans against his ear, kissing and licking at the shell.
And Ben can't take it as Aaron brushes up against his prostate, his entire body quivering with pleasure as he slumps forward against the taller man, relinquishing every last inch of control as he squeezes his eyes shut and loses himself to the pleasure of his climax washing over him.
He spills over his own stomach and shirt that remains hanging from his shoulders, half-unbuttoned. He probably ruins Aaron's too but he doesn't think the other will much mind at this moment in time as he continues to thrust inside of him, chasing his own release.
"Love you."
Ben tells him sincerely as he leans back slightly in Aaron's arms to hold his gaze, and that's the moment that Aaron finally falls over the edge, breathing heavily as he sinks Ben deeply onto his cock and spills inside of him.
And Aaron whispers it back to him a million times over between tiny little kisses pressed to every inch of Ben's skin until delivering one final lingering kiss to his lips that feels more intimate than anything that's ever been said between them.
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bubbl3zdaseaotter37 · 6 months
Text
Don't mind me. Just making my meagre offering to the starving members of this dead fandom. Since it's so short, I decided to add the entire thing under the cut. Enjoy, and happy Whumptober!
"Major lacerations detected. Vital signs dropping," Informed a monotone voice, after three short beeps. A long, metallic clang rang out on the cold floor, echoed down the long, dark hallway like a requiem bell, masking the sound of quiet panting.
With a ragged breath, Dr. Gordon Freeman wobbled, stuck out an arm in the dark to catch himself on the wall. Another series of beeps.
"Blood loss detected. Seek medical attention."
If only. Hand trembling, he hesitantly prodded the gash, and involuntarily jerked it back again with a choked gasp. The pain burned deep, but it needed some sort of pressure. He gritted his teeth and tried again.
Pull the band-aid off quickly, it won't hurt as much, his mother had always told him.
Still shaking, he speedily pressed a hand to the wound, feeling its slick texture despite the thick, chemical-resistant gloves on his hands. Fire blazed up and down his side, the corridor tilted sickeningly, and it wasn't for a dozen more agonizing heartbeats that he realized that he had screamed. As his breathing steadily slowed, Gordon listened to the low hum of Black Mesa underneath his heavy breathing and the pulse pounding in his ear.
"Morphine administered."
Leaning heavily on the lifeless metal wall, Gordon breathed a sigh of relief as the pain in his side almost instantly faded into the background like the thrum of the facility. Now that he could think clearly, there was something else he had been wanting to do.
Gordon turned, still keeping a careful hand on the wall, and stared curiously at the corpse of the strange creature with green liquid pooling underneath it. Judging from the substance's appearance, its consistency wasn't dissimilar to the blood from his own injury. With a furtive glance up and down the corridor, Gordon crept toward the creature.
Even with the ceiling literally crashing down around him, even with his own blood slowly seeping into the stiff fabric of the HEV suit, even with the end of the world as he knew it, Gordon still couldn't help the morbid curiosity that drew him closer to the thing that had tried to kill him moments ago.
Despite having run into many of them, Gordon hadn't truly gotten a chance to examine the creatures until now. There had always been more than one that had hurled glowing, green orbs of compressed energy at him, or slashed at him with its claws, or tried to shove him off a ledge. Speaking of which, the thing he was looking at had three arms, two connected to its low, stooped shoulders, and a single, smaller limb in its chest.
Out of habit, he adjusted the stained and battered glasses, which were still miraculously balanced on the bridge of his nose. It didn't help clear the spatters of blood (alien and human), dust, and other debris, but it made the situation feel a bit more normal. More like the carefully controlled climate of the labs, or his classrooms back at MIT.
Its skin was green and wrinkled, and Gordon was vaguely reminded of some of his favorite childhood characters. Except, E.T. had befriended Elliot, not tried to blast him into oblivion with his space lasers, and Yoda had taught Luke Skywalker the ways of the Force, not shredded him to chunks with razor-sharp talons.
Then there were its eyes, of which it had way more than generally allocated to creatures other than insects. At least, he didn't think it was insectoid. These things could be distant relatives of prehistoric fruit flies for all he knew. It had one, reddish eye in the center of its face, like a cyclops, and three smaller eyes on either side of that.
It certainly wasn't anything he, or anyone else in this doomed facility, had ever encountered before. At least that's what he assumed at first… so many strange things had been happening in the hours — or had it been days? — since the accident that he wasn't sure of anything anymore.
Barney would have told him it didn't matter anyways. They were the enemy; as long as they were the enemy, it didn't matter what they were. But Barney wasn't here. For all Gordon knew, Barney was… best not to think about it. Barney was resourceful and competent. Hopefully he had already found a way out of this deathtrap.
Gordon shook his head; he was getting distracted. Maybe it was the exhaustion, maybe it was from blood loss, either way he didn't have time to stand around staring at a dead alien. There were people who were counting on him, whether they knew it or not— his colleagues, those marines who kept trying to kill him, maybe even humanity itself. If someone didn't take out the portal punched into the fabric of time and space or whatever, who knew what would happen?
So, Gordon turned, slowly let go of the wall, and took a tentative step forward— clang. His foot hit something, sending it skittering away across the floor. In the dark hallway, he could just make out what it was.
Pressing his hand tighter to his side, Gordon took another slightly shaky step and bent stiffly to retrieve the long, thin, hooked object off the floor. Its once red paint was now hidden beneath a crusted layer of greenish, puss colored slime and blood.
Hefting the crowbar experimentally, Gordon peered up and down the hallway once more. The dim emergency lights flickered down the long corridor, casting unsteady shadows in the darkest corners of the room.
There has to be a first-aid station down here somewhere. With a long sigh, Gordon shifted his grip on the crowbar, pushed his glasses up his nose, and started down the hallway.
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atherix · 1 year
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Me when Midnight Chills makes a guest appearance (losing my mind thank you Atherix) but also when there is a prompt for moar content 👀 👀 👀
Cheeky!! Lmao here, have a nice snippet from the future <3 mildly spoilery but channeling a bit of that "Scar would absolutely abuse his authority if CC!Scar were in control" energy in this one <3 not the full snippet sorry, tis but a fragment to avoid severe spoilers <3
Pardon if I missed any format issues, posting from mobile so the format doesn't translate 1:1 jfkskfj
--
“What are you doing?”
Grian’s wings flare out and his gaze snaps over to the new voice- low and dangerous, none of the usual energy or light it carries. Next to him, Mumbo growls softly- a warning, though not aimed at Scar, who stands at what was once the entrance to the tent.
His hair, messy from sleep, is still in a braid lying limply over his right shoulder and his nightgown hangs about his shins. His feet are bare, a telltale sign of just how abruptly he woke and came rushing to their aid.
His eyes, usually soft green with the barest hint of golden flecks or rings, burn with magic that he hasn’t had a chance to expend. It stands out sharply against the soft silver light of the full moon above them.
The breeze turns warm and Grian and Mumbo share a look.
“Ah! My Prince!” the Ringmaster greets when he sees Scar, and Scar glances between the other Elf, the Fairy ring and the children trying to pull it apart. His eyes meet Grian’s now, and whatever he sees must not be good; what was already angry worried confused hardens into pure, unadulterated fury. “My apologies, had I known I would have such an... esteemed... guest tonight, I would have tidied up!”
“Is that any way to greet me?” Scar asks coldly, eyes snapping back to the Ringmaster, and the Elf freezes under Scar’s gaze. Grian swallows and Mumbo tenses up, both of them now staring at Scar-
Something about him is captivating. It demands attention, like fingers digging into the soul and grounding them, gripping their chins and forcing them to give its master all its focus, and Grian thinks he might not be able to look away.
(Except, he can’t help but notice, no one can; all eyes are focused on Scar and Scar alone, all silver and gold in the fire and moonlight.)
“P... Pardon me?” the Ringmaster asks, voice breaking as he does, and Scar tilts his head at him, gaze as intense as the wind whipping around them.
“I am your Prince,” Scar says slowly. “You will greet me properly.”
Your Prince.
It hits Grian, then, what is happening, and he breathes in sharply. He has never seen Scar weaponize his status- weaponize his authority, his royal voice. 
Yet Scar stares the other Elf down, and after a few long, tense seconds, the Elf makes a strangled sound and sinks down to one knee, bowing his head as he does.
“My apologies,” the Ringmaster grits out between clenched teeth. “Greetings to my Prince.” He adds something in that lilting language and Scar steps forward, closer- the dust on the floor billowing up with every step he takes. The Ringmaster rises back to his feet.
“Did I say you can rise?” Scar demands, glaring down at the Elf, and he freezes halfway. “You will kneel until I say rise.”
And what a sight the two of them make, Grian thinks as he watches; Scar, the moon practically setting the silver in his hair aglow and the torch flames reflecting the gold in his eyes, in nothing more than a nightgown glowering at another Elf, dressed in a striped suit and hair elegantly plaited down his back as he kneels at Scar’s feet.
“Oh, Scar,” Grian barely breathes, but it’s enough; the Elf’s gaze snaps over to him and softens just the slightest.
“Release them,” Scar says, his words directed at the other Elf. “Now.”
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bultaonene · 4 months
Text
tk american gods au
"Well well well, if it isn't my favorite god."
Jeongguk slams his glass on the counter at the words, so violently that he almost expects it to shatter. He really isn’t in the mood.
"You know why I'm here," he hisses through gritted teeth, words barely escaping his mouth. He rushed here as soon as he got the news, both to desperately try to drown his worries with alcohol and to see Yoongi.
"Do I?" Of course he does. Every living god, old or new, has heard of it. 
The Allfather has died. The king of the gods is no more.
And Yoongi has to know what happened.
"Do not play with me, Lògos."
He uses his old name, one of the many. Yoongi is far older than him, he has been the same for so long. Jeongguk is so young compared to him, a child. Even if his domain is just as old as Yoongi's. Even older.
"I want to know what happened. I want to know who did it. And you are going to tell me."
Yoongi laughs at that, low and deep as the sea, humorless. His hair is so fair it looks white and it only adds to his overall paleness. He looks like a ghost.
"I am an old god, Watatsumi. That doesn't mean I know everything."
He uses another name for Jeongguk too, but if the younger one did it to try and make him remember (who he is, who he should be), Yoongi does it to mock him. After all, it’s his name, yes, but it isn’t at the same time. Jeongguk is too young of a god to have heard that name on the prayers that have reached him.
Yoongi makes a gesture to the bartender, not speaking a single word.
(And oh, the irony of that.)
Jeongguk grips his own glass even more tightly and he can't contain his rage, which spills out of his mouth like water pouring from a pitcher.
"Don't bullshit me, you are-"
"I know who I am, child." He speaks with a booming voice and Jeongguk feels his power, his authority. Now more than ever, Yoongi is looking down on him. Jeongguk doesn't dare to speak and so the old god continues, reaching for the drink the waiter has just set on the counter.
He twirls the glass, watching the dark liquid swirling around. Whiskey, or maybe rhum. Jeongguk was never good with alcohol you have to taste – he's much better at downing it.
"I know who I am," he repeats, sounding sure but dejected. Like he knows but it doesn't count anymore, it doesn't matter. "But oaths and promises have no meaning now, humans only speak lies. I am nearly meaningless."
Yoongi looks at him, eyes burning but so terribly tired. He has always looked immortal, powerful, even ancient; but now, even with the face of a twenty-something years old as his eternal appearance, he looks old. Weary, worn out.
"Words are empty. Being their god has little meaning in this world, doesn't it?"
---
Yoongi didn't give him anything to work with, but he did give him a name.
"Kim Seokjin. Sounds like a human name."
It does, but Seokjin is another old god, just one closer to humans than most. He has been living on Earth for so long that he behaves like a mortal, even if his power is in no way so low.
"We all have plenty of names. He just has one that sounds different, don't underestimate him for this."
Namjoon is sitting in front of him, legs crossed and fingers drumming impatiently on the sofa’s armrest. Next to him Hoseok is sprawled on the couch, his feet tapping a rhythm on the floor that only he can hear.
"I need to question him. I will drag him here and beat the answers out of him, if I must."
Hoseok laughs and it sounds mocking. It’s always difficult to tell with him – he is genuine and honest, but he is above most and he knows it. "You? Against Seokjin? You wouldn't last a second."
"His domain is lust," declares Namjoon, as a way to complete Hoseok’s sentence. They are a strange pair, different but made from the same material. Namjoon is dressed in a smart suit, Hoseok in street clothes, and no one would be able to tell they are brothers, twins, two sides of the same coin.
Jeongguk feels the difference between him and them like it’s a bag of stones sitting on his shoulders. "A god of fertility? He might be ancient, but I have no reason to fear him."
Hoseok laughs again, feet playing a different beat now. Quicker, more frantic, and it’s almost creepy that he can be so still while his feet are dancing away. Next to him, Namjoon clicks his tongue and checks his watch, the fingers tapping on the armrest getting quicker. He scoffs and goes straight to the point.
"No, foolish boy. Lust isn't only restricted to the sexual sphere. Bloodlust. Wanderlust. Lust is craving, yearning – I said his domain is lust, but maybe you would understand better if I tell you that his domain is desire."
"You can't win against him, Epactaeus,” adds Hoseok and again, another name that Jeongguk has but that is not his. “If you wish for something, he will have power over you. If you yearn, you are doomed."
A clock strikes midnight somewhere near and both gods turn towards it with a snap of their bodies, like dogs that have sniffed out prey. But only for a moment. They turn to Jeongguk soon after.
Some people call them Fate, or Destiny. Some call them Death and Life. But everyone calls them Time. And they are both Time, both powerful and ancient, yet different.
Hoseok is the beat of a song, Namjoon is the click of a metronome. One is Chaos, the other is Order.
And Jeongguk hates asking for help, hates needing it, but he can’t do anything else.
"Then what do I do? I need him."
Namjoon does something with his mouth that almost looks like a smirk. "You are lucky. Seokjin may have power over all our weaknesses, but he has a weakness of his own."
"He has a brother,” continues Hoseok, always following his brother and always with him. “Powerful too, but less than him. Or in a different way, at least. Seokjin would do anything for him."
Namjoon and Hoseok tilt their heads then, at the same time, and it’s just as creepy as when the clock struck midnight. But it is to be expected – they are the same thing, after all. Just in different forms.
"You won't be able to face Kim Seokjin. But Kim Taehyung, him you may be able to tame."
---
Namjoon and Hoseok, like Yoongi, have given him only a name to work with. Kim Taehyung is even stranger than his brother – he seems to be everywhere, but no one knows anything about him. They say he's powerful and they say he's weak, his power flowing and ebbing like waves of the sea Jeongguk controls. 
He doesn't understand this desire the Kim brothers seem to share, this wish to be near the humans. They ruin so much, with their petty fights and unreasonable wants. The gods depend on them to exist but Jeongguk's domain is the sea and he can't help but hate them for what they are doing to it, to him.
He is Jeongguk, but he also has been and is Olokun, Tiamat, Morskoi and so many others. But he will never have a human name.
No one seems to know what this Taehyung is god of. Jeongguk thinks about it, trying to figure out how to corner him, how to find him. He is related to Seokjin, so maybe a god of love? Of pregnancy or motherhood? Taehyung is a male name but gender has always been a human thing. The gods don't care and they take female and male forms going from one to another, sometimes refusing to settle on either. 
But it feels wrong somehow. Seokjin's domain is so big. Thinking his brother is the god of love seems too restrictive, too obvious and irrational at the same time. So he doesn't know and he can't understand, and it makes his blood boil.
He spends weeks asking around, looking for him. He makes a show of it, leaving his name everywhere so that Kim Taehyung will know who is after him. It’s a risky move, but Jeongguk can feel how the world is shifting after the death of the Allfather. How humans are abandoning them, letting deities that have served them since the first human was born fade away to nothing. It was hard before the Allfather died, but now faith is crumbling like a poorly built sandcastle and the gods are sinking like ships with pierced keels.
The prayers of sailors and wives waiting at home, the wonder of children swimming for the first time – it all keeps him alive, saves him from the worst. But for how long? Years? A decade? A century?
And then what? Will he die as the Young God? Will he fade away inexperienced, killed by a war among gods desperate to stay alive? No. He won’t.
He needs Kim Seokjin. And to get him, he needs his brother. So he looks for him, searches in every nook and cranny, screams his name in a void and gets no answer. He doesn’t give up.
He doesn't find Kim Taehyung. In the end, Kim Taehyung finds him.
---
“I don’t want to say this is all very underwhelming, but it kinda is.”
Dressed in a suit, a toothpick between his teeth; Kim Taehyung doesn’t look like the person Jeongguk has been desperately searching for. As he said himself, Jeongguk too was expecting so much – a mystery, an enigma, a terrible foe.
Kim Taehyung feels dangerous, yes, but he came to him so bluntly, so simply, that Jeongguk feels unbalanced.
“I have been looking for you,” he says, tone harsh. Jeongguk has been begging smaller gods for a scrap of information on Kim Taehyung and in the end, this is how it is? He just needed to wait and he would appear in front of him, unarmed and cocky?
Fucking gods with human names. Always so messy and irritating.
“Oh believe me, I know.”
The arrogant tone is what makes Jeongguk snap. If he was a more mature god, maybe he would’ve noticed how innaturaly angry he is. How quick his annoyance rose, how the desire to fight has taken hold of him in a span of seconds. How suspiciously emotional it is, even for him.
Jeongguk is not a mature god, and so he grabs Kim Taehyung by the lapels of his jacket and slams him against the wall.
“Are you playing with me?” he growls, eyes storming like the sea he commands. “Because I am not. I need something from you and you will give it to me.”
The loss of the Allfather, his uncontrolled powers, the need to prove himself and his failings at that – it all rises like high tide inside of him, threatening to spill. He can barely see Kim Taehyung’s stupid face with fury and helplessness clouding his sight.
But then he does see his face for a second. The Kim brother before him is smirking like a madman, happy to see Jeongguk like this. The fucking toothpick is still in his mouth as Jeongguk slams him against the wall again, then releases him like he’s burning his skin.
“What the fuck have you done to me?” he asks, hackles rising. The fury recedes, goes back to normal levels instead of threatening to suffocate him and it’s like a veil comes off his eyes.
Kim Taehyung looks exactly how he did seconds ago, except he doesn’t. It is there now, the mystery and the enigma, and power sits on his skin like morning dew on the fresh grass. He fixes his jacket, crinkled by Jeongguk’s hands and there is something red smeared on his white shirt.
“I did nothing, little sea god,” he throws a smirk at Jeongguk, playful and sharp. “You just… indulged in your own repressed emotion. With a little help, maybe.”
"You are a god of violence." Jeongguk says it with absolute certainty. He doesn’t let rage and bloodlust take him, never. The sea can be storms and tsunamis but there is far more danger in still waters that you don’t know the depth of.
Taehyung makes a displeased sound, rolls the toothpick between his teeth. "Violence? That sounds so crass. No, my domain is simply what humans must do to survive: fight.”
He says it so easily, like it’s not atrocious when humans destroy each other, when they pollute the waters with dead bodies and blood. No, he says it like it’s glorious and fun, a huge smile on his face as he talks.
“You know, in the end we aren't so different, you and I. You are born from the sea and I am born from blood. Just two different kinds of liquids."
“We,” he spits out, disgusted by the comparison, “couldn’t be more different. How can you mingle with humans and encourage their death in the same breath?”
“Ah little dolphin, so young. So naive.”
Jeongguk clenches his fists at the patronizing tone, but doesn’t give in. It’s Taehyung’s game and he won’t fall for it twice.
The blood-stained god chuckles at him and his gaze is a weapon on its own, one Jeongguk isn’t sure how to defend himself from. He takes one step towards him then a second one, and Jeongguk can only watch, too tense to do otherwise.
“Humans need to thrive and to thrive, they need to prevail. And for some to prevail, others need to lose.”
He says it so matter-of-factly, so detached. Maybe the Kim brothers don’t live on Earth because they love humanity more. Maybe they just want to be close when humans crash and burn, when they’ll collapse like a dying star.
Jeongguk doesn’t care. Humans are a tool, one they all need, but he has more pressing matters.
“Fine, the humans must fight each other. But the gods are different, better. We must stop them, must stop the gods from-"
"Stop the gods from what?” interrupts the other and this time he is the one who’s angry, tone sharp. “The humans are forgetting us, Jeongguk. They don't pray and they don't believe. If we have to fight to survive, just like they do, then we will."
"We are not like them. We have the power-"
"We?” He laughs loudly and Jeongguk reddens in shame as he recognizes the irony, but he doesn’t say more. “Who's this 'we' you are talking about? You are a god of the sea, younger than most. And I have no interest in stopping what's coming next."
Taehyung stomps towards him with purpose now, a predator cornering his prey. His eyes are blazing with fire and he seems sharper now, as if someone shaped his features to be cutting and deathly.
He is in front of Jeongguk now, shoulders wide and mouth in a thin line. The toothpick is still there.
"You think you are endless just because you rule over the sea? Your domain is vast, but there's something that reaches much further than that."
His voice is deep and Jeongguk can almost feel it rumbling in his chest, his bones. Kim Taehyung carries himself like he’s a loaded gun, a keen-edged blade, and Jeongguk thinks that maybe he is, that with eyes like those he could be.
Taehyung speaks with his deep voice, looks at him with deep eyes, and Jeongguk feels like what men dying on the battlefield must feel.
"A dam can stop the sea. But nothing can stop war."
or: The king of all gods is dead. In an era where people do not believe in gods anymore, the deities are weak and almost disappearing. They have to fight among themselves and the ones to prevail will be the gods who stay. The others, forgotten. 
Gods change. At least, most gods do. So Jeongguk is the new version of the god of the sea, a young deity. And he has no intention to die so soon.
He needs to solve the mystery. Who killed the Allfather? Why? Why now? To solve the puzzle, he will need help. And that won't be simple, not at all.
The Kim brothers are a different kind of god. Every god is born from people, but they are born among them. They can't rise to the Dilmun, the land of the gods. They aren't involved with the Allfather's death, but it is very convenient for them.
Until something tries to kill them.
Whoever killed the Allfather doesn't want any of the old gods around, not even the rejected ones like Seokjin and Taehyung. Taehyung thrives on war. But maybe, he needs to wage war on the right people.
The second time he appears in front of Jeongguk, it ends with a pact between the two of them. Jeongguk, the young god with the legacy of thousands of other deities, will protect the Kim brothers and find a way to let them in the Dilmun. Taehyung, the old god robbed of his own birthright, will help Jeongguk find what he needs. The oath they take is unbreakable and ties them until their ends are met.
The god of the sea and the god of war will march together this once, even if it's only for a while.
They make an Oath. Despite what Yoongi told him last time, words do have power and words spoken by gods... the pact they make is unbreakable, infinite. They are linked now, entertwined. They have power one over the other.
And thank fuck they do. Taehyung is... reckless, to put it very mildly.
Sure, he is a god born by war and blood. But is it really necessary to try and resolve everything with violence?
They need a diversion. Taehyung proposes to spill blood. They need to get in someone's good graces. Taehyung looks out for enemies he can kill. They need information. Taehyung wants to capture someone and stab them until they speak.
Jeongguk has to spend so much time reining him in, it's starting to be ridiculous.
He believes in order and diplomacy and being sneaky. Taehyung believes in barging in and scaring people to death. Their Oath binds them, so they both spend much of their time "tugging" each other through the Oath.
(Which basically means that Jeongguk has to restrain Taehyung from murdering everyone while Taehyung sometimes enjoys egging Jeongguk on until he is the one unleashing chaos and Taehyung can watch him while sipping on a glass of wine.)
Tae sacrificed his pride when he asked gguk's help and gguk will NEVER let him forget that, the annoying little shit
So of course working together and being near each other all the time isn't bad at all 👀👀 gguk won't admit that he's attracted to Tae tho and he blames seokjin sksksjskskss
Tae: r u done undressing me with your eyes? ;)))
Gguk: what?? Me??? How- what??? how dare u. I Would Never. It's your brother's influence!!!!
Jin: you two are DISGUSTING just make out and stop blaming me
But as they get to know each other better they also get to know their similarities – Gguk is afraid to never live up to his legacy, Tae knows that no matter what he'll always be considered a "lesser god". They are dismissed by other gods in a similar way and so they start to defend each other bc they know what is like when no one stands up for you :')))
At some point they get close to discovering what happened to the Allfather but they are attacked. Gguk leaves unscathed, bc his status as a major god makes him immune to certain weapons, but Tae is hurt very badly :((( cue gguk showing everyone exactly how violent can the sea be >:)) he wrecks and destroys everyone involved in the attack and he starts to be feared by ppl who dismissed him so easily >:))) when Tae wakes up he is so pissed lmao he can't believe he missed gguk wrecking havoc ALL ON HIS OWN his baby is grown :''))
Gguk: Tae... I did something wrong... I obliterated everyone in an extremely violent matter
Tae: and you DIDN'T INVITE ME???? BITCH!!! 
ok not to be NSFW but... Since they are gods and they live through prayers they both have a major praise kink 👀 the first time they Do The Deed™, Tae spends HOURS just worshiping gguk's body and just TELLING him what he wants to do with him and gguk is so riled up 🤤🤤
(NSFW) gguk literally comes as soon as Tae touches him that time and Tae brags about it for the rest of their lives lmao
(NSFW)
Gguk: and this is why I'm not listening to your advice.
Tae: remember when I made you cum just by talking to you??? My words were important back then 😪😪 you used to listen to me 😪😪
Gguk: can u stOP!!! IT HAS BEEN 20 YEARS!!!! AND IT ISNT RELEVANT RIGHT NOW!!!! 
btw since they are immortal they flirt for like 149 years and everyone around them is Tired™ but they are still like "he isn't my boyfriend!!! I don't like him at all!!!!" and the other r just like
[viking of disapproval meme]
WAIT INTERMISSION this meme is Taehyung in one image, just imagine gguk trying to have a normal conversation with someone for info and Tae is sitting next to him like this
[violence works for her meme]
ok I don't have anything else to add stan immortal dumbasses taekook who take like 3839 to """officially""" get together
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ficsforeren · 3 years
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more mafia eren headcanons pls 🤲
MORE??????? okay if you insist
So uhh this will be a continuation for this scene I wrote earlier
NSFW - DON'T READ IF YOU'RE BELOW 18
Eren tosses your knife to the side, making a clattering sound as it meets the floor. "Any other tricks of yours I should be aware of?" His voice is soothing in your ear but the gun he points to your neck is anything but.
You struggle to break free. "Get your hands off me."
"Fine," he huffs, drawing back from you. "I guess I'll just have to investigate it myself."
He pushes you forward until you're pressed flat against the wall, his gun pointing at the spot between your shoulder blades. "Arms above your head, Sweetheart," he says but his tone is merciless. "One wrong move and I'll shoot a hole through your chest."
Your breathing rags, raising both hands as he asked you to. "Good girl," he coos and it makes you sick. You can feel his hand sliding down your body, following the curve of your ass before it slips behind the high slit of your red maxi dress. He reaches between your legs, making you jolt when his fingers glide over your lingerie. "Such a cute reaction," he chuckles but he presses the point of his gun harder on your skin. "You won't be needing this." Eren rips your lingerie with one hand, casting it aside.
You're scared to your bones. Terrified. "Please stop."
He drags his hand to the front of your stomach, pulling you closer until you can feel his zipper grazing against your behind. "And what if I don't?"
But he stops once he feels you shuddering in fear. He turns you around and lifts your face by pushing his gun to your chin. His eyes find your glassy ones and even when you're glaring with so much hatred in your eyes, you're trying your best not to cry. Even if it means that you have to bite your lip until it bleeds. He smiles, reaching out a hand and you close your eyes in reflex but what he does is frames your cheek gently. "As much as I like seeing my women cry in bed," he says, "I'm not a rapist."
You thought he was going to murder you instead so when he draws his gun away and tucks it back into the pocket of his suit, you nearly weep in relief. "It's been fun, Sweetheart," he bids his goodbye as you slide down to the floor, knees trembling. "I look forward to seeing you again." And he shuts the bathroom door behind him.
He could've killed you, but he didn't. He should've been, knowing you were out there to kill him, but he didn't. And now you owe him your life.
Sick of having that thought for days, you decide to visit him again.
Eren is lying down on a bed of an overly-priced suite with his black suit discarded, his gun lying on the floor and his white shirt unbuttoned to the middle of his chest when you slip through his door.
"Your lady won't be coming back," you tell him, dressed in a red trench coat that perfectly hugs your body. Eren props himself up with his elbows on the bed, his smirk naturally finds its way to his face. His gun is close enough for him to reach. He just decides not to.
Even in the dimness of the room, you can still see the bulge that's concealed by the silk fabric of his pants. There are lipstick stains on his shirt, and some on the side of his neck.
“Well, that’s unfortunate," he says, not surprised in the slightest. "I'd spent a good amount of money to rent her for the night. Heterochromatic eyes. Very rare.”
"You've got a peculiar taste in women."
“Yeah, looks better on camera.” He shifts his weight, sitting on the edge of the bed. His hair is no longer tied, cascading to his shoulders and framing his cheekbones perfectly. “How many of my guards did you take down to get in here?”
“Three. You know, you should’ve considered hiring bodyguards that are stronger than you.”
“Yeah, you couldn’t even lift a finger against me." He chuckles at the memory. "Well I used to have Levi, but he quits for good.” He takes a cigarette from the pocket of his suit. “Did you kill them?”
“No. I didn’t want to leave dead bodies in such a nice hotel like this.”
“How very thoughtful of you.” He tucks the cigar between his teeth, lighting it up.
“I wouldn’t mind if it was yours, though," you add. "If anyone should die tonight, it should be you.”
“But you can’t kill me." His eyes twinkle mischievously as he leans back and takes a long drag. "So, what are you planning to do?”
"Why didn't you kill me?"
"'Cause you're cute." He brings his cigar to his lips, smirking as he continues, "And I kinda like your face. Wouldn't hate to see it again."
"You should've killed me. Now I feel like I owe you my life."
"You do." He flicks the ashes off. "So, I'm guessing you're here to repay me?" You stay mute but your eyes tell him the answer he wants to hear. "What do you have to offer?"
"Let me join your little boyband. I can be useful to you."
He snorts. "You couldn't even put up a fight against me, why would I want you?"
Your jaw clenches. "Then what do you want me to do?"
Something flickers in his eyes at your choice of words. He takes another drag, standing up and makes his way to the balcony. "Come. The moon looks beautiful tonight." You hesitate for a few seconds before you follow his trail.
Eren leans his back against the railing, throwing his head back as he lets the wind caresses his face. He looks... beautiful, as if he didn't belong to that kind of world. His eyelashes are long, probably longer than yours and those lips—
"Strip."
"What?"
"Strip for me," he repeats, dragging his cigar closer to his lips. "Here. Now." You keep your body still, your glare menacing, though your heart starts to thrash wildly inside your chest. "You said you wanted to repay me, right?"
“I thought you said you weren’t a rapist.”
“I’m not." He exhales clouds of smoke into the air. "I’m not forcing you, am I? I’m only asking you. Whether you do it or not is up to you.”
You can't believe you just called him beautiful. He's fucking sick.
“And you also owe me an escort," he grins lightly as he tosses the rest of his cigarette away, "You’re not heterochromatic but you do have pretty eyes.”
You feel your breathing stutter as he makes his way to you. “You want me to sleep with you?”
“No." In a blink of an eye, Eren has his hand on the front of your throat, pushing you against the glassy window until you're standing on your tiptoes. Your hands are clutching tightly against his wrist, nails scratching his skin to push him away but he only smiles that fucking innocent smile of his that always seems out of place. But when he speaks, another persona takes over.
"I want to fuck you," he says the words through gritted teeth, almost like he's growling. You can feel his breath falling on your lips, can sense the aftertaste of the cigarette he just took. “I want to fuck you raw until you cry. I want to fuck you until you can’t say anything, can't think about anything but my cock inside you. I want to fuck you until you beg me to stop and when you do, I'm gonna fuck you even harder."
You're choking, your lungs starting to catch on fire. "C-can't... breathe..."
And instead of letting you go, he smashes his lips against yours, and he's so rough with his teeth and tongue that you won't be surprised if yours start to bleed. You gasp against his mouth, desperate for air and only after he's satisfied, does he let go.
Retracting his hand, Eren brings back his juvenile smile to his face, hand gently frames your cheek as he whispers in your ear. “But again," his lips brush against your skin. "It’s all up to you, Sweetheart.”
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Day 136: Long Drive
Sorry friends. The second half of my week last week was really difficult and I went away for the weekend to recharge. Without further ado, here's the next ficlet. Thanks for your patience <3
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Harry loved the States for a lot of reasons; it was way easier to disappear here than in England; even if people knew his name, they were way less likely to recognize his face; you could basically pick any climate that you wanted and find a place that suited you; and lots of other weird things.
But mostly he loved road trips.
He loved the entire concept behind getting in a car and just driving. The road unfurling endlessly in front of him, windows down, radio turned up and blaring whatever struck his fancy. With Max in the car beside him, wagging his tail and sticking his head out of the window, Harry felt practically weightless.
"Alright, buddy," he told the pittie when he pulled over to grab some breakfast at a little diner, "You hang out in the back, yeah?" he asked, scratching behind his ears and pressing a kiss to the broad bridge of his nose. "Go on," he said, nudging him toward the back that Harry had magically enlarged and turned into a comfortable living space.
Muggles had campers and rvs but with a little bit of magic, the beaten up Subaru served him just fine.
He got out and hit the lock button, listening to the satisfying little beep as he headed toward the diner, catching up his curls and tying them into a loose messy bun on top of his head.
The diner was cute, all red and white checkered decorations and a counter with spinny stools. Harry sat down at one and grabbed a menu, perusing and trying to decide what to order when he heard the crash of something being dropped to the ground and breaking.
His head snapped up and he blinked, wondering if it had been too long since he'd gone to sleep because he had to be hallucinating. "Malfoy?" he spluttered.
(Read more below the cut)
But before the other man could respond there was a shout from the kitchen in the back, "Damn it! You clumsy, stupid ass!" the man shouted and Harry felt himself recoiling from the anger in his voice. "You'll be paying for that!"
"Yes, sir!" Malfoy shouted back, bending over and hastily sweeping up the pieces.
"Well don't mess around with that now!" he shouted. "You've got a customer, you worthless piece of-" his voice trailed off as he slammed a door in the back but Harry could fill in the rest.
"Malfoy?" he repeated as the man in question stepped over to him. "How on earth did you find me?" he asked.
"You found me, Potter," he snapped. "Not the other way around. Now what can I get you?"
"You actually work here?" Harry asked in befuddlement.
Malfoy gritted his teeth, "Obviously. Otherwise I wouldn't be wearing this stupid apron and I wouldn't be getting screamed at by the arsehole that owns this place. What can I get you?" he repeated.
"Umm," he said, glancing down at the menu, "I will definitely have a cup of coffee. And then maybe the first special on your board with scrambled eggs, bacon, and rye toast," he said. "And also grape jelly, if you have it."
"Got it," Malfoy replied, scribbling on the ticket. "Coming right up."
He spun on his heel and strutted off before Harry could say anything more and Harry just stared after him, wondering if he was dreaming.
Malfoy was back a few minutes later with a mug and a coffee pot, filling Harry's cup and sliding it over to him.
"Thanks," Harry said, reaching for the sugar. "What are you-"
"Look," Malfoy hissed, leaning over and keeping his voice low, "Please do not blow this for me. I know that you have no reason to help me but I really need this job, Potter."
Harry blinked and by the time he'd unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth, Malfoy was gone again.
It wasn't long before the other man emerged once more, carrying Harry's plate of breakfast. "Here you go," he said as he set it down and slid a couple of grape jelly packets toward him. "Enjoy. Do you need a warm up on your coffee?"
"Uhh," Harry replied, glancing at his half full cup, "Sure."
Malfoy nodded and grabbed the pot to refill his cup.
"When do you get off work?" Harry found himself asking.
The other man's brow furrowed, "Why?"
He shrugged as he slathered jelly onto his toast, "Thought it might be nice to catch up."
"To catch up?" Malfoy repeated. "Is that code for-"
"Hear about your life," Harry supplied.
Malfoy's eyes narrowed, "Fine. I get off at 10:00. If you pretend that you are just a customer passing through I'll give you fifteen minutes."
"Done," Harry replied easily. "So what touristy shite is there to do in this town until 10:00 am?"
-----------------
After he finished breakfast, Harry ended up just taking Max for a walk and then to the dog park to chase a ball around him. He'd worked hard to train him the first few months after he'd found him abandoned, tied up to a dumpster and all but starving. And Max had learned quickly, mastering basic commands in no time which was for the best, since people took one look at him and decided he was scary.
He wasn't, he was a sweet boy who loved people and who loved to play but it didn't seem to make any difference. Still, once he was trained, Harry had started taking him to the park and he wouldn't let other people bully them out.
Around 9:30, they headed back to the diner and Harry settled Max into the back, making sure his water bowl was full before he climbed back out of the car and leaned against the hood, waiting.
Malfoy emerged a few minuted after 10:00, looking a bit disheveled in his black t-shirt and skinny jeans, and immediately lit up a cigarette before looking around and spotting Harry. His eyebrows rose like he was surprised to see him before he squared his shoulders and made his way toward him.
"Hey," Harry said, straightening up as Malfoy approached him.
Malfoy blew a stream of smoke out of his mouth, "Hey?" he asked. "Is that really what you have to say to me?" He shook his head, "Just get it over with Potter," he said. "If you want to gloat just fucking gloat so I can move on and go get my groceries."
"I don't want to gloat," Harry protested.
"What do you want, then?" he asked scathingly.
And that was the question, wasn't it? What did Harry want? "Why are you working here?" he asked.
Malfoy rolled his eyes as he exhaled another puff of smoke, "It's amazing where you end up when you're a convicted death eater whose wand is monitored," he replied. "Then add to that the fact that it didn't seem to matter where I got myself set up in muggle London, someone found me and within hours I'd lose whatever job I'd been working. So here I am, just trying to get by and who should appear but the savior himself," he said with a little mock bow. "I should just put my two weeks in here now, at least-"
"I'm not going to tell anyone you're here," Harry said quickly.
"Right," he huffed sarcastically.
"I'm not," he argued, "Because if I told them where you are, they'd know where I've been."
"You're running away too?" Malfoy asked, cigarette dangling loosely from his fingers as he stared at Harry in surprise.
"Obviously," Harry replied. "Come on," he said after a moment. "Your feet must be killing you. I'm sure that arsehole doesn't give you breaks," he added as he opened the hatch.
"You want me to climb into the trunk of your car?"
He rolled his eyes, "I know you think I'm an idiot," he said, "But I'm less of one than you think. Just," he crawled in and stood up, "come on."
After a moment Malofy followed him through but before anything else could happen Max bounded over and all but climbed onto Malfoy's lap.
"Max-" he started to scold before Malfoy started talking over him.
"Oh, hello you sweet baby," he said, pulling Max further onto his lap so he could pet him better and scratch his neck. They looked ridiculous, Max was almost as big as Malfoy, but there he sat anyway, "hello. Aren't you a lovie?" he asked. "Yes you are. You're a giant lovie," he said.
And in that moment, Harry's mind was made up. "Have you ever gone on a road trip?" he asked.
Malfoy looked up at him and Max licked a stripe up his cheek. He laughed and stroked his side, "What?" he asked.
"Have you ever gone on a road trip?" Harry repeated.
"What is that?"
"Like a really long drive," he said. "Where you just get in your car and drive and stop for food when you want to and sleep when you want to." He scratched the back of his neck, "Max and I are headed to California to see the giant redwoods."
"That sounds nice for the two of you," Malfoy replied, steadily patting Max.
"Come with us," Harry said.
The other man blinked. "Sorry?"
"Just," he shrugged, "What else do you have here?"
"A job-"
"That you hate."
"A flat-"
"That is probably smaller than this," he said gesturing to the space they were sitting in.
"What happens when you get sick of me?"
He shook his head, "Come on. Just come with us. If I kick you out I'll give you $5000. That should be enough to help you settle wherever you want, right?"
"Why?"
He stared at him for a moment. There were a thousand reasons that flitted through Harry's mind, a thousand things that he could say, but none of them made any sense. Not yet at least. "Why not?" he settled on.
Malfoy took a slow inhale and then nodded once. "Fine, but you're going to need to make a second bed and we have to stop for my stuff."
"Done," Harry replied, grinning and feeling the familiar feeling of freedom that he felt when he was gliding down the open road unfurling in his chest.
Finally, he was going on an adventure worth having.
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Day 135: Off-Guard | Day 137: Symmetry
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the right direction | pjs
↬ series: tatts & cupcakes | chapter 15 ↬ pairing: park jongseong / jay x reader ft. all members ↬ genre: enhypen single dad au | ceo!jay | single dad!jay | baker!reader | single mom!reader | fluff ↬ navi: beginning | previous chapter | series masterlist ↬ warnings: none ↬ word count: 1.8k ↬ a/n (1/2):
final chapter of tatts & cupcakes my loves !! 
Days turned to weeks which turned to months and ultimately a few years went by. In the past few years you officially became Jay’s girlfriend, Ni-ki learned that he had two dads, and Sunoo and Jungwon were more than happy to call you their mom. But despite this, there was always a lingering worry in the back of your head. What if one day, Jay decided that the trouble of loving you and Ni-ki was no longer worth it to him? What if Sunoo and Jungwon no longer wanted you as their mom or Ni-ki as their younger brother? But today those worries would be put to rest forever. As you looked at yourself in the mirror wearing the dress you had chosen for yourself while holding a bouquet of flowers, the sound of your name being called causes you to turn around to see Heeseung and Jake walking up to you with a grin on their faces.
“Jay’s gonna be a wreck when he sees you,” Heeseung said.
“Ten bucks says he’ll cry,” Jake adds in, nudging the older with his elbow. You can’t help but roll your eyes at the two and ask,
“Is everyone here already?”
“Yeah, they’re all sitting down. Sunghoon’s trying to calm Jay down though, I’ve never seen him this nervous before,” Jake replies. Dressed in their suits, Sunoo and Jungwon run up to you. While planning your wedding, you and Jay decided that Sunoo and Jungwon would walk you down the aisle while Ni-ki stood next to Jay. After Heeseung and Jake jokingly told you that there was still a way out if you wanted to leave, you stood behind the door with Sunoo and Jungwon holding your hand. When the doors opened and you took your first step, you the wedding march played. Despite all the people watching you, the nervousness was washed away and replaced with excitement. The only thing you could focus on was the sight of Jay and the feel of the two hands holding yours. You see Heeseung handing Jake what you can only assume to be a $10 bill, causing you to have to hold back a slight laugh. Step by step, you walked with Sunoo and Jungwon until you finally stood in front of the man who would be your husband. Sunoo and Jungwon head to your side while you see Ni-ki with the biggest smile on his face. You wipe away Jay’s tears, something that he’s done for you more times than you can count but today, the roles were switched.
“I love you.” You had said it in hopes of calming him down but it only seemed to have the opposite effect as he cried even harder. You felt lightheaded, palms sweaty, and the butterflies in your stomach felt as if they were doing cartwheels. Finally,
“You may now kiss the bride.” Not even a full second later you felt Jay pull you close and his lips on yours. He deepened the kiss slightly, but still mindful of the people in the audience watching you both. Jay’s arms settled around your waist while pressing a kiss to the top of your head,
“Thank you for giving us a chance,” you hear him whisper.
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While you and Jay were unpacking boxes into the new house the five of you decided on, Sunoo, Jungwon, and Ni-ki were in the living room. The house had more than enough rooms for the boys to have their own but they chose to share one. In the meantime, the other rooms were turned into guest rooms. While watching them chatting and playing amongst each other, Jay’s presence makes itself known to your body with the feel of him behind you and his embrace surrounding you,
“We’re home,” you say as you hold Jay’s hands. You feel him playing with the wedding ring on your left hand and despite not directly looking at him, you just know that he’s smiling. While resting his head on your shoulder,
“Anywhere is home with you and our boys.” You turn around to face him,
“Y’know… our boys have been talking about wanting a cat lately.” Cringe washes over Jay’s face at the thought of a cat in the house,
“I’m allergic to cats.”
“What about a dog instead?” you ask, voice sounding more excited than you meant it to. Jay raises his eyebrow in suspicion,
“Is this something they want or something you want?”
“I’d like to think that this is a family necessity.”
“Dogs are just agents of capitalism,” he replies with a roll of his eyes. 
“At least think about it first before saying no.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll think about it.”
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Jay’s “YAHHHH” in the morning (which the entire neighborhood probably heard) wakes you up and gets you out of bed. Still sleepy, you drag a blanket with you. When you walk to the living room, you’re met with the sight of Ni-ki clinging onto Jay’s leg, Sunoo watching everything while munching on some bread you baked just last night, and Jungwon carrying Maeumi, your recently adopted dog in his arms.
“Jungwon-ah, give me the dog,” Jay says sternly and gritting his teeth. When Jungwon sees you, he immediately runs behind you but on his face, you can see a mischievous smirk. Patting Jungwon’s head and looking at Jay,
“Babe, what happened?”
“The little agent of capitalism chewed on the cables in my office!” You can’t help but laugh, while now petting Maeumi’s head,
“It’s kinda your fault for leaving the door open, isn’t it?” Jay sighs, most likely thinking of ways to find inner peace,
“D-don’t tell me you’re taking the dog’s side right now?”
“Of course I am.”
“You really love the dog more than me?” With a teasing smile,
“Of course I do.”
“I never should’ve agreed to adopting the dog if it was just gonna become number one in your heart,” he muttered.
“Our boys and Maeumi are number one to me, you’re second,” you corrected.
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Following the next few weeks, you noticed that Maeumi was closer and clinger to you than normal. Maeumi would settle by your stomach when you sat on the couch or lay on your lap and you couldn’t help but wonder why. But then, it hit you.
You had been slightly moodier.
You felt a little queasy in the mornings.
And you were late.
When you realized what the possibility was, you headed to the bathroom. The morning of the day K came back into your and Ni-ki’s life, you were sick and Jay took care of you. He bought a ton of medicine and somehow, a pregnancy test got added into the mix. You weren’t sure why, but you had kept it after all this time. While waiting for the results of the test, thousands of thoughts were running through your mind as nervousness coursed through your veins. Were you and Jay even ready for a baby? Well... you had three kids already but a newborn? Having another child was a conversation that hadn’t yet come up after getting married, moving into the new house, and adopting Maeumi. After all, Jay was running his company while you were running the bakery. But when the test was finally ready and the two lines set in tears of happiness began to pour from your eyes. That night when Jay came home and you were all eating dinner you wanted to tell them right then and there but decided that it’d be better to tell them after getting confirmation from the doctor. Which was exactly what you did the next day.
“Congratulations!” the doctor said to you as she showed you the screen of the ultrasound. She printed out a couple of pictures for you to keep and you bought some decorations to surprise Jay tonight. After closing the bakery early and picking up the boys from school,
“When we get home, do you guys wanna help Eomma decorate the living room?” you asked after heading into the house.
“Is today a special day?” Jungwon asked, eyes wide and curiously looking up at you. You nodded and took out the picture to show them,
“You guys are going to have a little brother or sister in a few months.”
“Really? I won’t be the maknae anymore?” Ni-ki asked, eyes full of hope.
“Yup, you’ll be an oppa or a hyung now!”
“Wahh, can I eat tteokbeokki with our new dongsaeng?” came from Sunoo.
“When they get older, of course you can! Now, let’s get to decorating so we can surprise Appa, ok?” You were met with a chorus of excited “yes, Eomma!” and with that, decorating and getting ready to surprise Jay when he got home began.
The house was dark when Jay got home, causing him to wonder where you and the boys were.
“Love?” he called out.
No answer.
“Sunoo-ah?”
Nothing.
“Jungwon-ah?”
Nada.
“Ni-ki-ah?”
He swore he could’ve heard crickets chirping. Desperate for any answer,
“Yah! Agent of capitalism, where are you?” That garnered an answer as the light tapping of Maeumi’s feet on the floor met his ears and Maeumi was now in front of him. He picked up Maeumi and walked further into the house. Turning on the light in the living room and suddenly being met with,
“SURPRISE!”  
“YAH, YOU SCARED ME!” he yelled as he stumbled back, and fell onto the floor. The boys instantly piled themselves on top of Jay in excitement but he looked at you with slight fear in his eyes,
“It’s not our anniversary, is it? Did I forget?” he asked. You shook your head,
“No, you didn’t forget anything. But we have a surprise for you.”
“And that is?” You handed Jay a small box in which you put a “dad of five kids” mug (Maeumi included even if Jay didn’t want to admit it), a picture of the ultrasound, and your pregnancy test. Jay looked at the cup in confusion but when he looked at the other contents of the box, it finally registered in his head. He held the ultrasound by its corner as if he were scared it’d turn to dust or get wrinkled.
“We’re having a baby?” His eyes were shining when he looked at you, you were unsure if it was because of the tears forming in his eyes or the happiness, maybe it was both.
“Mhm, we’re having a baby.”
“Wait isn’t this the test that I bought like, years ago?”
“I told you it’d come in handy one day.” All of a sudden, Jay was hugging you and practically sobbing in your shoulder,
“I love you. So, so, so much. I don’t think words can do my feelings justice. I just, I love you.” Returning Jay’s hug while rubbing his back,
“What do you want it to be?” you asked curiously. In Jay’s head flashed to the daydreams of a little girl running around a house, that little girl being half-you, half-him. But in this moment, he didn’t care if it was a girl, a boy, or whatever it’d choose to identify as in the future.
“Healthy, as long as it’s healthy I couldn’t care less.” You smiled at Jay’s response, hugging him tighter. You knew that being with Jay, trusting him, loving him, it truly was the right direction.
↬ final tatts & cupcakes a/n:
this is the end of tatts & cupcakes and wow has it been a rollercoaster !! i don’t know how to feel about this series ending since it was by first baby (is it weird to say that? idk but anyways) i'll be honest with yall, this series was a product of my procrastination... it was around 1 am and i just didn’t want to do any of my work so i just thought to myself, “let’s write a fic with jay as a single dad” because why not ?? initially, it was going to be a oneshot but then i realized writing it as a oneshot wasn’t the best option for me because one, i needed to get my work done at some point lmao and two, it’d just be way too long so i ended up writing the first chapter, read it over a bit, posted it, and tatts & cupcakes was born !! i didn’t think that the series would get this far with the storyline and there were a few times when i thought about discontinuing it due to things like school, thinking it wasn’t interesting enough, other responsibilities, etc., but then i started getting notifs related to the series and writing became the better parts of my weeks so thank you everyone !! for those who have read until this part and decided to give my writing a chance and for all the love that this series has received, thank you so much !! i hope that it’s been written well enough to be a series actually worth spending time on to read 🥺
even though this series is ending, i do have some happy news !! i’ve started a new one called cameras & caffeine the pairing for this series is cafe owner!jake x ceo!reader cameras & caffeine is similar to tatts & cupcakes in how reader is also a single mother there so if you’re interested check it out here :)
once again, thank you so so much for taking the time out of your day to read tatts & cupcakes and i hope you’ve enjoyed !!
~ riri 💞
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taglist: @cha-raena | @hoonieclipsee | @affectionaterainoflove | @ghjasksdk | @j45uk3 | @enhypenova | @googoojeu | @softnanaaaa | @rubyanne | @steadyfreakmuffinalmond | @ncityy04 | @gratefulmaria | @j1ungluvr | @lixseu
taglist: @dear-dreamie​​ | @jay-ke​​ | @sunoosh1ne​​ | @unvrseung​​ | @lost-lepord-beaniewrites​ | @koufaxx​ | @ifvjay​ | @sunshineshouchan​ | @sjycty​ | @poutypoutybin​ | @crjwon​ | @shesin-therain​ | @markleepooh​ | @alice-adi​ | @mooni-a-multi​ 
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❦ written by riri ( @enhykkul​ ) | main blog masterlist | blog navi
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nebulablakemurphy · 3 years
Text
Miss American Pie
Chapter Five: This Will Be The Day (Finale)
Warning: this series features a romantic Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader pairing.
Summary: Everyone has returned but the battle for humanity against Thanos wages on.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
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You wake in a coughing fit, the rubble surrounding you sears your lungs. “Natasha.” You call into the rocks and flickering lights. Clearing your throat, you try again. “Natasha!”
“Here, I’m here.” Her voice is rough, pained.
You push yourself toward the sound, through the dust you can make out her hair. “You ok?”
“Mostly.” She’s laying face up, a few scratches visible.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“I can’t move.” She nods at the piece of collapsed cement. “My leg is broken, you should go.” Nat says, staring up at the sky.
“I should’ve never let you go to Vormir. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” You try uselessly to budge the blockage over her leg.
“What is Vormir?” She asks.
“Doesn’t matter.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “How much do you remember?”
“The red room.”
“Do you remember getting out?”
“No one gets out.” She shakes her head.
“We did.” You inform her. “Yelena did.”
“Yelena?” Her gaze finds yours. “You know Yelena? Is she here?”
“Yes, I know her.” You press your lips together. “She’s not here though.”
“The rest of this building is coming down. If you were really trained in the red room you have to know that.” Natasha frowns. “You need to leave.”
“Not gonna happen.”
“Don’t be a hero.” She whispers. “Let me go, it’s ok.”
“No, it’s not.” You argue. “I won’t do it again.”
“What about Yelena?” Natasha gives you a pointed look.
“She’ll understand.” This is what she would do.
“Hey,” Natasha pushes herself up on her elbows. “Would it be a good thing or a bad thing if a giant man in a metal suit carrying a smaller man and a raccoon appeared behind your head?”
You turn toward the man in question. Scott Lang. “It would be a good thing.”
———————————————————————
Natasha is taken somewhere safe. She can’t fight.
As the strange doctor and his disciples start opening portals you see that you’re not alone. Through one comes Alexei, Melina and Yelena.
Her white suit is pristine, dirty blonde hair held away from her face in ponytails.
On shaky legs you move toward her, taking your rightful place at her side. Facing what lies ahead together.
Yelena catches your hand, “this isn’t much of a welcome home.”
You can’t help but laugh, “pretty cool way to die though.”
“Very,” she agrees. “Natasha?”
“She is a little worse for wear.” You warn her, “but alive…and safe.”
Yelena gives you a watery smile, squeezing your fingers. “And you?”
“A tower fell on me.”
“Of course it did.”
Thanos’ army is nothing to scoff at. Giant airborne creatures hover over his troops. Larger monsters stand in their ranks, space ship overhead ready to destroy.
Steve is almost unrecognizable, covered in dirt, his shield battered and broken. But you know it is time when he gives the order. “Avengers, assemble.”
Fighting is easy, it’s what you know. What you were trained to do. Fight to stay alive, fight for what you believe in, fight with Yelena; for Yelena.
The two of you move together like a well oiled machine. Like riding a bike, even after all this time you could never forget.
“We’ve got company to the left.” Yelena says through gritted teeth, kicking at the alien creature beside her. Dropping an empty cartridge to the ground and reloading her gun seamlessly, firing several shots.
Despite everyone’s best efforts they just keep coming. “Do we have a plan here?”
“Getting there,” Steve replies. “Anybody have eyes on the gauntlet?”
“Yeah!” Clint rushes past you with the glove in hand. “What am I supposed to do with it?”
“Get it out of here!” Tony insists.
“What’s happening?” Alexei shouts over the chaos. “I still don’t have ear piece.”
“Just keep their army away from that guy in the tank top.” You grunt, falling backwards from the force of one of Thanos’ soldiers colliding with you.
“We have to get the stones back where they came from.” Rhodey reminds everyone.
“The time space tunnel is completely collapsed.” Tony points out.
“That isn’t our only time machine.” Lang cuts in.
“Does anyone see an ugly brown van out there?” Captain America’s voice hums through the ear bud.
“I do,” a female voice chimes in. “But you’re not going to like where it’s parked.”
After grappling for far too long, you manage to knock the creature from you. Using your knife to dismember it.
“Next time, we get the cool laser guns.” Yelena yells loud enough to be heard by everyone on the network, as she hauls you to your feet.
“Friday, please add laser guns for the ballerinas to my grocery list.” Stark gives his smart ass remark.
“What’s the word on the van?” Rhodey wonders.
“Working on it now.”
The ship at Thanos’ disposal begins raining fire, no regard for their own troops.
“We’ve got people going down!” Rocket hollers.
“Clint,” you call into the microphone. “How’s that gauntlet?”
“Moving down the field.” The archer replies, “I’m alright too, thanks for asking.”
“Good.” You bite back a smile.
Hell continues breaking loose around you. Glowing circular orbs unfold in the air above, providing coverage from the missiles. You’re not sure if this is winning or losing. It feels like a bit of both.
———————————————————————- Thanos and his army are dusted away. Leaving you surprised and still swinging as the shock wears off.
You won. You. Won.
And you lost.
You lost Tony Stark. The man you’d barely known, but offered you clarity that will stay with you forever.
You lost the Natasha you’d come to know over the five years that Yelena was gone. Some parts of the redhead stripped away for the price of the stone.
But she’s still here. Waiting in the wings to be greeted by Yelena and their little makeshift family. You share a look of understanding when your eyes meet over the blonde’s shoulder.
Others come, Banner refuses to leave her side. Despite the fact that Natasha doesn’t remember him.
Clint falls to the ground at her feet. Breaking down at the sight of his friend, his family alive and well. She doesn’t remember him either, but welcomes him into her arms somewhat awkwardly.
Her expressions flicker from happy to overwhelmed. Hesitant to open herself up to the possibility that she is wanted, needed and loved.
Too confusing for the girl who only remembers the red room. Adjusting to this life will take time.
Everyone begins clearing out, their jobs finished. Rushing home to reunite with their loved ones. Tomorrow will bring about new challenges. The world is in shambles, and so are you.
Steve decides that he should be the one to return the stones. His goodbye tells you that he has a bit more in mind. But this is his life. His choices, not yours.
“Well, I guess we should head out too.” You say after a while. Your car is gone, lost in the wreckage from the explosion.
The setting sun is eclipsed, causing all of you to turn your gaze upwards just in time to see the ship’s door open.
“Is that a raccoon?” Melina asks, pointing toward Rocket.
“Do you want a ride or not?” Rocket shoots back.
“Not the avenger’s super jet, but it will do huh?” Alexei smiles, this is his dream.
“This is better!” A man’s voice carries down from the interior.
“Well,” Yelena shrugs, “if you say so.” She leads the pack up the ramp and onto the ship.
“Fanny and the pigs will be expecting dinner soon.”
“How are they?” Melina asks, “have you been taking care of them.”
“That was me!” Alexei says proudly, bending at the waist to gather Natasha into his arms. “Aye honey,” he grunts, hoisting her up. “You are only little girl in my heart.”
Nat pushes against his chest in retaliation.
“Do you mind if I hitch a ride too?” Clint asks.
“The extra stop will cost you,” Nebula stares blankly at him from her seat.
“They always do.” He remarks, trotting up the ramp.
Bruce paces at the foot of the metal grate, watching the rest of you load up. “I gotta hang back, make sure Steve gets there in one piece.”
“After what happened with Scott the first time I’d say that’s probably the best bet.” You agree, standing near the entrance.
“Yeah,” he smiles, kindly. “Keep me posted on Nat, will ya?”
“I will,” you return the smile.
“I’ll see you around.”
You nod, “I’ll see you.”
The captain of the ship introduces himself as Star-lord, and after a moment without response, Quill.
“Any requests?” He asks, finger hovering over the control panel.
Alexei creeps over to the younger man, quietly relaying a message.
“Alright,” Quill nods. Stroking the keys until a familiar set of notes ring out.
“A long, long time ago-“ The singer croons.
You let out a chuckle.
“I can still remember how that music used to make me smile. And I knew if I had my chance, that I could make those people dance. And maybe they'd be happy for a while.”
“We’re really doing this?” Yelena puts a hand to her head, the corners of her mouth turning upward.
“But February made me shiver, with every paper I'd deliver. Bad news on the doorstep, I couldn't take one more step.” The melody carries on.
“It’s your song.” Natasha turns to her sister.
“I can't remember if I cried. When I read about his widowed bride.” Melina’s eyes are far away, carried back to their years in Ohio. Before the world had been so cruel.
“Something touched me deep inside, the day the music-“
“Died.” Yelena joins in, lulling her head to the side to gage your reaction.
You sigh, all of this beyond surreal. But you allow yourself to live in this moment, because you might not get another. “So bye, bye Miss American Pie…”
“Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry.” The roaring chorus of voices fills the silence you’ve grown used to. Fills the parts of you that were empty for so long. “And them good ol' boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye. Singin', “this’ll be the day that I die.”
“This’ll be the day that I die.” Yelena sings, her face alight with a childlike glee.
——————————————————————-
Melina, Natasha and Alexei stay with you for a while. A few weeks as Natasha heals and becomes acclimated to her life.
She claims to hate the attention, but deep down you know she’s full of it.
The Ohio house is bursting at the seams with five adults, nine pigs and one dog.
That isn’t enough to keep visitors at bay. Namely Clint, his wife Laura and their three children.
Things feel a bit off when everyone begins moving out. Alexei, Melina, and their pigs return to the farm outside of Saint Petersburg.
Natasha finds herself drawn to New York, with Bruce and the makeshift building he’s using as a lab.
You adjust to the steady thrum that is daily life, with Fanny and Yelena.
After dinner you load the dishwasher, drying your hands on the nearby tea towel before selecting a cycle.
“So how does it feel?” Yelena asks, leaning against the doorframe.
“Hmm?” You turn to face her.
“Being a hero.” She clarifies, a smile playing at her lips.
“I’m not-“
“Oh cut the crap, Y/N. You saved the world.” Yelena narrows her eyes at you.
“I did it for you.” You say simply, because it’s true.
Yelena closes the space between you, “why?”
“You know why.” You whisper as she cups your face in her hands, gently stroking her thumb over your cheek. “It’s ok if you wouldn’t have done the same.”
“I’d do more for you, and worse.” She assures you. “But do you really want to spend the rest of your life fumbling around feelings in the dark when you could have someone who-“
“I want you. I only ever want you.” You beckon her closer. “Anyway I can have you, that will be enough for me.”
Sometimes wires get crossed and you want things you never have before. And she provides them before you have a chance to ask. You give back to her tenfold, so that neither glass is ever empty. That is love. True love, the only way you’ve ever known it.
“I am yours…in every way a person can belong to another.” Yelena breathes, “and then some.”
Series taglist: @jeyramarie @freeshavocadoooo @ilovewinter101 @3and30aresoultwins @yelenabelovv @miphas-trident @1800-fight-me
If you loved this series as much as I did, you can check out the prequel here!
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delimeful · 3 years
Text
you cant go back (1)
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BTHB: Locked Up and Left Behind
first in a new alien series! this one is completely unrelated to WIBAR :)
warnings: abandonment, violence, injury, mentions of death and starvation, mild cliffhanger
-
Virgil was screwed.
This was quite a familiar phrase for him. He most frequently utilized it while trying to haul Jan away from whatever batshit scheme he was joint-deep in before it blew up in their faces. Normally, however, even he could admit that his panic, fury, and/or despair was sometimes exaggerated for emphasis.
“I’m absolutely, massively, unbelievably screwed,” Virgil tried out in a low hissing whisper, and grimaced when it came out sounding like an understatement.
In the corner of his eye, his helmet’s display screen blinked an eye-numbing red, informing him that there was a breach in his suit, and the atmospheric pressure inside had been completely disrupted. There would normally be beeping, too, the shrieking ‘you’re about to die’ kind that made his shelling turn pitch with terror in simulations, but— well.
He’d been able to endure about two clicks of the racket before giving in and tearing through the audio speakers with his teeth, ruining them entirely. It meant he wouldn’t hear any of the vital organ failure notifications, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to experience a sickening play-by-play of his death on another planet anyhow.
The others had left him in some kind of dilapidated shack, hand-painted a faded red on the outside. It looked unstable, but it was apparently built sturdier than any of them expected, enough to not even creak as he thrashed around with all his free limbs. He’d been cuffed around one of the support pillars, which meant that even if he could break it, it would probably just immediately collapse and crush him to bits.
Considering there was an enormous crack in the glass of his helmet, he hadn’t really thought he’d get the privilege of worrying about how he was going to die. Aisleen— the one who had bashed his helmet against her elbow plate— had certainly agreed. She’d waited until after the others had left, granting him a quicker death the way her culture called honorable.
Janus would have disagreed loudly. Not just because Virgil was pretty sure his only friend didn’t actually want to see him choke to death on the probably-somehow-toxic atmosphere of a Deathworld, but also because that guy could go on about interplanetary ethics for rotations if you let him.
Virgil wrenched at his restraints for the hundredth time, ignoring the hot pulse of pain that came with the movement. His chitin had to be cracking by now, but the rawness of that was easier to focus on than thoughts like, ‘I’ll never get to watch him argue someone in circles again.’
The worst part wasn’t wondering if they’d fess up to abandoning him or not. No, the worst part was he wasn’t actually sure which option he preferred.
He could imagine Janus looking for him, searching for leads that didn’t exist, stubborn the way a starving shilsho would stay locked onto flesh. Never knowing what actually happened. Jan hated not knowing things, the way Virgil hated sitting with his back to an open entryway.
But if he knew… If Janus managed to wrest the truth from them— or if they bragged about it— he would blame himself. They’d left Virgil because he was just a weaker version of Janus when it came down to it, and because he backed Janus up no matter what, and because it was funny, leaving the twitchiest guy on the crew to die on a world where anything and everything could kill you.
At least Janus wouldn’t be tempted to come down and retrieve his corpse. The other Chelcera was all about self-serving scheming, and there was no way the benefits outweighed the costs. He had to believe that much for his own sanity.
Virgil closed his eyes, trying to push away the what-ifs and the mental flash-images of Janus stuck in his position. He had more than enough to worry about already.
Since the atmosphere didn’t seem toxic enough to kill him outright (for now), there was a surplus of possible ways he was going to bite it. Weather, wildlife, or withering into a lifeless husk due to lack of sustenance.
Alliteration, nice. He was funny when he was on the brink of deathbed hysterics.
For now, he was only in conceptual danger. The shack was sheltering him from any outside elements, being terrified had killed his appetite, and there didn’t seem to be any heat signatures nearby, though his vision was limited by the sides of the helmet.
It made his skin itch, not being able to see behind him, but his auxiliary arms were spread out and taut, waiting for even a wisp of movement. If anyone tried to attack him from behind, they’d strike quick and true.
Of course, then he’d probably be immediately immolated by a pissed-off Deathworlder, but at least he could go down fighting.
If he was vicious enough, they’d have to kill him, and he wouldn’t have to worry about being taken alive. Bitter venom welled up in his mouth at the thought, and he tried to breathe deeply.
He was thinking too far ahead. For now, he’d struggle and swear and watch his atmo tank dwindle down to nothing, see if it changed anything. Maybe he was going to asphyxiate, after all.
-
He made it through the night.
The sun was close to this planet, enough that he was warm even in the stripped-down version of his bodysuit and in the enclosed shade of the barn. He thought he might even get overheated if he tried to sunbathe here, which hadn’t ever been a concern back home.
Thankfully, the meager sun that spilled through the half-open window didn’t reach him, so he didn’t have to add boiling alive to his list of potential deaths.
Unthankfully, more and more heat signatures popped up as the dawn arrived, all small but still potentially life-ending. He’d heard more than enough horror stories about palm-sized Deathworlder creatures that could kill you with one bite. He wasn’t letting his guard down.
The noise that accompanied the day was welcome— he was exhausted, and every unfamiliar chattering call or whistle made his aux limbs lift back up defensively, keeping him from dropping off into sleep.
He was not falling asleep on a Deathworld. That was just asking for trouble.
The energy crash hit hard, though, and by the time the sun was overhead, he was warm and sleepy enough that he almost missed the slow creak of the door.
He definitely didn’t miss the bright splotch of heat that trotted in, though. He quickly flicked his sensor eyes closed, getting rid of the heat-sense overlay, and felt his hair stand on end as he met the slitted eyes of a small, furry quadruped.
“Mrow?” the creature chirped at him, tail winding back and forth in the air. Its fur was colored in abstract patches, and he could see the tiny fangs in its mouth as it yawned threateningly.
Virgil resisted the urge to hiss, wriggling his wrists desperately. There was no point in antagonizing a Deathworlder creature preemptively while bound and helpless, a voice in his head reminded him. It sounded kind of like Janus.
The creature stalked a little closer, predatory grace in every one of its movements, and paused to watch him again. It’s pupils seemed rounder now, ears flicked up attentively. Virgil resisted the urge to twitch his backlegs, keeping still like a terrified prey animal as it approached at a leisurely pace.
He’d had all of his bulky outer suit stripped from him by the others-- no point in leaving the soon-to-be-corpse with a pricy surface suit. They’d even taken the shoes, which had felt a bit like insult to injury.
Now, with the local fauna drawing close to his feet, it felt more like just plain injury.
As bad as the odds were, he was fervently hoping that he could make himself seem tougher than he was. Maybe having to work for its meal would scare it off? He grit his fangs and drew himself up in preparation to lash out as much as he could in retaliation for whatever damage the creature was about to inflict on him.
It trod directly over his feet and brushed its little head up against his legs, a low rumble beginning to emanate from it.
He stared blankly down at it.
“What?” he clicked quietly, and the creature chirped back at him, taking a tight turn to loop right back around and brush against him in the opposite direction. Still, not a hint of pain.
Did… Did it have contact poisons, maybe? There was a residue of shed fur building up on the ankles of his undersuit, but it seemed surprisingly harmless.
With another, louder rumble, the creature settled into a crouched position-- directly on top of his feet. Its eyes drifted slowly closed, the vibrations it was making rolling through him.
Oh, Seryl and all her stars. It was sleeping on him.
It seemed docile for now, but what would it do if he woke it? Even he threatened to bite people who interrupted his naps, and he wasn’t a tiny wild creature governed only by survival (no matter what Janus told people). His flimsy inner suit wouldn’t stop an Ampen’s claws, let alone Deathworlder teeth or claws.
The creature continued to be a warm purring weight on his feet.
He resigned himself to a very tense next few hours.
-
Patch, as he’d taken to mentally calling the creature, didn’t end up attacking him. When it woke, it stretched languidly, chirped up at him a few more times, and then departed shortly before the sunlight began to fade.
And then, the next morning, it returned. Despite Virgil’s many fears, it continued to show no interest in harming him. At some point in the day, he even accidentally fell asleep with it, and still, no surprise ambush.
Despite Patch’s yawns and rumbles and claw-flexing stretches that could all technically be threat displays, it seemed bizarrely… almost... fond of him.
There was the slightest hitch, on the second day, when he realized Patch could come in the other windows and approach from behind while he slept. Surprisingly enough, the thought of the creature sneaking up on him was less distressing than the idea of accidentally striking out at it while asleep.
The presence of a non-hostile creature keeping him company had been... surprisingly nice when he wasn’t busy freaking out about it.
Once he’d imagined that awful scenario, he couldn’t dismiss the possibility, and so he spent an inordinate amount of time using his aux limbs to fiddle with the sealing latch on his helmet until he could tug it free. The slick surface and broken glass of the visor meant that he fumbled it basically as soon as he got it off, letting it drop to the floor behind him, but the reserve power had already long died anyhow.
And then, when Patch returned a bit after the sun’s rising, they hissed viciously at him the moment he turned his head. They proceeded to refuse to come anywhere near him for a good long portion of the day, at first bristling and pacing back and forth, and then eyeing him oddly while pretending not to, and then finally approaching slowly-- in what Virgil struggled not to view as a predator’s stalk-- and deeming his feet a suitable resting perch once more.
He’d like to say he never had a friendship so exhausting, but his best friend was Janus, so this was basically different ditchport, same junkyard.
“You two’d probably get along,” he said to Patch after he’d been forgiven for the horrific crime of exposing his face. “How do you feel about schemes?”
Patch had imitated one of his double-click noises perfectly, which was somehow mostly-adorable instead of mostly-terrifying. He tried to make one of their little round chirp sounds and mangled it horribly, but thankfully the resulting look they gave him was more alarm than offense.
By the fourth day, he’d begun to keenly feel the effects of being completely without nutrients. It was really only thanks to his nature that he’d gotten this far. Chelcerae were sporadic eaters-- big meals sustained them over longer periods of time compared to other aliens. The downside of that, of course, meant that when his body finally realized that there was no food coming, the hunger pains were going to be all-consuming.
Working at Janus’s side, he’d gotten used to having food when he needed it, or even wanted it. It just figured that he was probably going to die the same way Janus had first found him: starving.
He fell into sleep more and more frequently. It passed the time, and being asleep made it much easier to ignore his impending doom.
Of course, if he’d been aware of the rude awakening he was in for, he wouldn’t have been so eager.
In fact, if he’d known what exactly was going to find him sleeping on that fourth day, he probably wouldn’t have dared to shut his eyes at all.
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ererokii · 3 years
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I came running when I saw your requests were open! Okay, this is pure angst so bare with me. How about the reader dying in all the chaos when Eren first attacked marley? She was Jean's best friend and so when they were in the airship he carried her corpse inside, and Eren sees her and Jean is like she died l, and its all your fault. You could make her die in battle or she could take the bullet for Sasha, its up to you! Im just curious of how Eren would behave... Thank you so much baby🥺 remember to take care and if you dont wanna write this there's no problem!!♡♡♡
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WC: 1.1k
Warnings: character death, blood mentions, some violence, some spoilers for season four, unedited. Italics is flash back
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“She’s dead. You killed her.”
It’s silent; enough to hear a pin drop. Jaws are dropped, mouths parted as they stare in shock.
Jean stands there, a body limp in his arms, a tear trickling down his face and onto the floor. “She’s dead, Eren.”
Even sits there, staring at him through brown tresses that cover the majority of his face. His brother, Zeke beside him, stares at Jean with a raised eyebrow, absolutely no empathy for him.
“You..you killed her.”
It seems that victory couldn’t even protect everyone in that ship. After you and Jean had aboarded and left someone out there to watch, you were immediately engulfed into a hug by him.
“I’m glad you’re alive,” he mutters, burying his head in the crook of your neck, arms practically squeezing the life out of you. In normal circumstances you would have laughed, pushed his face away from yours and told him he stunk.
But this was different.
Your arms loop under his own, head pressed against his chest plate. “I’m glad you’re alive too.”
Arms wrapped around your torso from behind, hair tickling your nape as the person let out a shaky breath.
“Y/N, I can’t thank you enough for being there when I shot at the Cart,” Sasha spoke quietly. “I was a bit scared if I’m being honest.”
“I was there!” Jean interrupts, pulling away from you as his arms cross over his chest, averting his eyes elsewhere. “I didn’t get my thanks..”
“Who needs you when we have Y/N?” She grins, moving around to wrap an arm around your waist. “She’s all I need to back me up, isn’t that right?”
Eren’s eyes watch as blood trickles down Jean’s arm, seeping into the black sleeve of the uniform, making a small puddle on the floor. His breathing becomes uneasy, fingers clenching around the bench he was sitting on.
His superiors and comrades are unable to move; the sound of Armin’s gun falling to the floor as he rushes to Jean; said boy lowering the body to rest on the floor. Mikasa follows suit, falling onto her knees as she grabs the left hand, shivers running up and down her arms.
Cold.
“If you didn’t do this, she wouldn’t be dead. Tell me, why is she dead, Eren?!”
I don’t know, don’t ask me, Eren thinks, wishing he could say those exact words.
But he can’t; all he can do is stare with semi wide eyes. His arms are restrained by the rope the Scouts put on him, two recruits pointing their guns at him. Despite having him on their side, there was still a fear within them that he would do something else.
“Answer me!”
“This is our first victory for the new Eldian Empire! Our first battle, and many more to come!” A crowd of soldiers raised their fists in victory, screaming at the top of their lungs as they felt like rulers; the only ones that mattered.
“Another one,” you mutter, rubbing your arm, massaging a sensitive area from when you crashed into the roof when the Beast threw rubble. “Just how many more..and will Eren still be there..”
“We seem to always follow Eren in the end. I don’t think he would be going anywhere,” jean comments, standing beside you as everyone walks towards the middle of the ship.
“Hey isn’t he still out there?” Connie asks, looking over his shoulder, staring at the open sliding door. “Should we check?”
“He’s fine. I didn’t see anyone out there when I was there.”
That’s not enough to convince Connie, his eyes still trained on the silver door but decides to shake it off, facing forward.
Everything feels too surreal right now. It’s serene; too peaceful after a massacre of Liberio’s people. Smiles and laughter are shared, everyone reuniting with their buddies, thankful they can take another breath.
However, your stomach churns, looking around a couple times before reaching your hand out, grabbing hold of Jean’s pinkie. There’s a creaking noise coming from the floor board, catching your attention.
“Jean, did you hear that?”
“No. Hey guys quiet down!”
Sasha must have heard it as well as she glances over her shoulder, a body rolling inside of the ship, a gun held close to their chest.
It happens all too slow. The child raises the gun, brown eyes full of anger stare Sasha down, her finger curling around the trigger. Her teeth are gritted as her brown strands stick to her face, small lacerations and dirt scratching at her visage.
“Sasha!”
Your body seems to move on it’s own, one foot in front of the other as your hands collide with her chest, applying force. She stares at you with warm yet wide eyes; body staggering backwards.
Jean’s words wrack every crevice of Erens mind; his voice increasing in volume.
She’s dead because of you. You killed her!
Eren’s mouth suddenly feels dry, tongue peeking out as he licks his lower lip, chewing on the inside of cheek as he exhales loudly, lowering his head in shame, afraid of the consequences.
“Did she have any last words.”
Regretting his choice of speech, Eren’s lower lips quivers, shoulders shaking slightly. With everyone’s eyes on him, he feels as if they’re staring into his soul, silently judging his choices (as some verbally let him know).
His heart is heavy as a noise leaves his mouth, nowhere near to a laugh, but not even close to a cry of sorrow. He feels like screaming until his throat is raw— to lock himself in a confined spot and to never be seen for the rest of his days on this hell on earth.
“If only you hadn’t gotten the Survey Corps involved with this, Y/N would still be alive, and would be able to see your sorry ass tomorrow in your jail cell. Maybe then she would be able to hold your hand, wouldn’t she.”
Mediterranean eyes that hold tears, glance over at your body once more. Your eyes are closed, cheeks suddenly hollowed. There’s a bandage wrapped around your torso, blood seeping through the white and drying as seconds pass.
Your whole body is relaxed , a trail of red stained on the corner of your lips.
Even with the recent tragic events, Eren can’t help but relax when he casts his gaze on your face. Something within him says that you wouldn’t blame him for the cause of your death, even if everyone else would.
But he can’t forgive himself.
“J-Jean,” you whisper, clutching weakly at his arm. “E..Eren..I want to see him..”
And all you wanted was to see him one last time— ,to spend your last breaths and tell him he wasn’t a monster.
He was just like you.
Human.
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