#WE ARE FUCKING UNDER ATTACK CRIMSON

[yxkanna]

doing the best fight in bg.3 (the dribbles fight) but cursed to do it multiple times bc i keep aggroing crimson somehow and i don't want to hurt him

#ooc #moopisms #PAIN.JPG #????? #why does he keep going temporarily hostile when i attack dribbles #WE ARE FUCKING UNDER ATTACK CRIMSON #bg3 spoilers

[hyunsvngs]

𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞-𝐚-𝐡𝐨𝐞! - spiderman!han jisung x fem!reader

wc: 11.1k

cw: han jisung is spiderman, a brief attack of an alien in school, both characters are 18+ (legal) but are intended to be in high school, friends to lovers, jisung calling mc baby at any given moment

synopsis: you’re obsessed with spiderman, but after a certain event takes place, you become convinced your best friend and spiderman are the same person.

a/n: after a long wait… HEHE smut warnings under the cut and as usual 18+ MDNI!!!!!!!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: brief mention of masturbation (both), oral (fem!rec), slightly switchy both parties, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, loss of virginity (both), cumswapping, relatively tame given that its me

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You’re intrigued.

Interested seemed like too little of a word to use for how you feel whenever you see the latest news report. In a world full of superhuman serums and bulletproof skin, he is still intriguing. Maths homework could be ignored, as far as you’re concerned - and that’s bold for you, because you love maths. You wonder if he likes maths, too.

Every night at 6pm sharp, you settle in front of the television and wait for the news. Spiderman, the hero in question, is always up to something. He loves shooting his webs across the tallest skyscrapers in the city, dangling from them precariously without a care before he lets out a loud, earth-shattering giggle and beats the newest bad-guy that your world has attracted. You always wince at the reports, wondering just how he healed from the injuries he must sustain. It had to be down to the spider venom, you supposed.

“He’s dangerous,” Your dad huffs. He’s lounging on his normal armchair, peeling leather be damned, munching on a bag of crisps. You grimace at his crisp covered digits motioning towards the television. You love your dad, really, and your mum - you just always differed in opinions when it came to Spiderman. He was so fucking cool, and you seriously feel like a child saying that all of the time, despite your best friend Jisung telling you that we all have our interests. “I mean, he’s putting normal civilians in danger. Friendly neighbourhood Spiderman my ass.”

“Honey,” Your mother admonishes, digging through her own bag of crisps. You briefly consider why you haven’t been offered one. They look tasty, when your father isn’t rubbing luminous orange dust onto his previously crisp white shirt. “You know she doesn’t like it when you say bad things about him. He- what was the word again, baby?”

“He intrigues me,” You mumble, pretending to erase equations from your homework. Your cheeks blaze crimson when your mother hums in agreement, nodding triumphantly to your father. You wish you could be as sassy as her sometimes. You’re more timid, hiding behind oversized hoodies and Jisung. He is a lot more confident than you, more loud and exuberant - you suppose that’s why he had adopted you as his all those years ago.

Your mother had been best friends with Jisung’s aunt, Sohee. She’s just like Jisung, zipping around the place at an insane pace to offer you snacks and drinks at every second. When you and Jisung had first met in preschool, you’d been drawing patterns in the mud with your grubby little fingers, hiding from the bullies. He’d criticised your drawing. He helped you fix it, though, chubby cheeks puffing out with a grin when it was good enough for his taste. Looking back now, that behaviour was so Jisung, but your mother had been delighted to find out that you’d already met her best friend’s son.

It had been easy becoming friends with him after that. Every day, he’d drag you by your wrist and take you to the yard, insisting on doing your co-operative drawings together. The teachers had a fit everyday on the state of you two by the end of your break, but your mothers had loved it, taking a million and one pictures a second. He stuck up for you both to the teachers, and then he stuck up for you to the bullies and it was like you’d known each other since birth. Inseparable at the hip, you’d been glued together throughout preschool, primary school and now high school - it doesn’t look like you’re getting rid of him anytime soon, either. You’d applied for the same colleges.

You don’t particularly want to be rid of him anyway. He’s alright, really, and you had a bit of a girly, high school crush on him. You would rather jump off of a building like Spiderman sans the webs if anyone found out.

Another thing Jisung is good for is listening to your rants. He waits for your call every night after the news had been on, and you clamber on your bed obediently after the report finishes to press on his contact.

“Jisung!” You squeal. There’s a lot of feedback on his end, and you hear a low ‘shit, fuck, oops, oh God’, until there’s a loud thud and he giggles, chiming through your tinny phone speakers. “... Ji? Are you okay?”

“Yep, sorry, baby,” He sounds out of breath, but you smile when he speaks anyway. Whenever he calls you baby, his designated nickname for you, it makes your heart flutter and you have to grimace to ignore it. His face pops into the little square designated to him, his cheeks blushing pink and round eyes wide. His hair is slightly damp, from what you’re not sure - but he looks cute. “I just got home. I was- I was running some errands for my aunt.”

“God, she’s got you running like crazy lately,” You mumble, still jotting down numbers on your homework. It’s taken you hours, but you always get distracted on nights like this. “Did you see it?”

Jisung hums, and then you hear him groan. He’s stretching, slightly toned honey-skinned arms appearing above his head in the plain oversized t-shirt he’s wearing. You try not to stare. “Did I see what?”

“The- the news, Sungie,” You feel shy mentioning it so outright. It is a weird interest, a weird thing to be obsessed with - Jisung often reassures you that it really isn’t, and his anime obsession was a lot worse. It was. You sigh, clearing your throat. “Spiderman. He was- he was super cool tonight.”

“Ooh, was he?” Jisung teases, chuckling when you groan in protest. “I’m only playing with you, baby. I saw it. He was super cool, wasn’t he?”

“Ha-ha, super cool, ‘cause he’s a superhero. You’re funny.”

“That’s why you keep me around,” Jisung chirps. “Hey, have you done the maths homework? I haven’t had time, because of the errands, y’know.”

“Hmm, yeah, I’m almost finished,” You aren’t. You’re far from it, really, but he doesn’t have to know that. “I can let you copy it tomorrow morning, before class.”

“No, that’s alright, baby. We can just cross-check our answers tomorrow,” His voice sounds tired, but you don’t comment. It’s better not to question Jisung when he’s like this.

His aunt has him doing a lot these days. You haven’t wanted to ask about it because you know it must be tough for her to look after Jisung since his parents passed, especially when Jisung is always going at full speed and is probably seconds away from giving his aunt a heart attack. He was always clumsy as a child, too, snapping his glasses in half and having a few broken bones to tell long stories about. He always means well, but sometimes you wish that he had something else to get his energy out of his system rather than stressing his aunt out.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“Jisung, surely you know who Spiderman is, like, underneath the mask,” Seungmin quips through a mouthful of dry, government regulated school food. “You spent all that time with Bang Chan in the internship.”

Seungmin is a lanky boy that just came along one day and decided to be yours and Jisung’s friend. With him, he brought a younger, smiley guy named Jeongin, and Jeongin brought Felix. Felix is just Felix - nothing else can describe him. Before long, you’d found yourself in a de facto group of misfits that you weren’t even sure you could call friends. Apart from Jisung, of course.

Jisung simply raises an eyebrow in response to Seungmin. “I mean, sure. I met Mr Bang a few times, but I never met Spiderman. Not out of his suit, anyway.”

You gasp. Jeongin startles from the nap he was taking on the cafeteria table, raising his head to look at you angrily. Felix pushes his head back down from the hood on his jumper and Jeongin immediately falls back to sleep. “You met him in his suit?”

“Well, yeah,” Jisung shrugs. When he turns to look at you, your mouth is agape, feeling slightly betrayed. Jisung shoves another spoonful of cheese - was it really cheese? - pasta into his mouth, and then he’s sighing. “It’s not a big deal, baby. If I really met him, the real him, you’d be the first to know. I promise.”

“You still got that fat crush on Spiderman?” Felix chirps. You meet his amused gaze with your own steely glare, pouting over your packed lunch.

“It’s not a crush-”

“It’s an interest,” Jisung clarifies for you, and you smile. He’s always jumping to your defence like that. You bite into an apple, savouring the crisp, fruity taste on your tongue, and then the bell rings. Sighing, you watch as the boys around you get up - including Jeongin, fox like eyes bleary from sleep - and swing their bags on their shoulders.

“I’ll see you later,” You murmur to Jisung, who throws his arm around your waist in a quick hug. “Enjoy English.”

Right. You and Jisung didn’t have the same classes. He has English now, and you have chemistry, which is probably your least favourite of all classes. You just weren’t a fan of the whole blowing shit up scenario, unlike Jeongin was, and the boy trundles behind you towards your chemistry class.

The class is boring. The teacher drones on and on about some experiment you couldn’t care less about, and you pretend to care. You’re taking notes, sure, ever the diligent student - but you can’t get anything other than Spiderman out of your mind. Jisung met him, and didn’t tell you, and who even is this guy? You’d love to know. You’d love to just see him, even once, just to be able to tell the story.

A massive crash stops the teacher’s speech. He turns to the door, confused, and the students do the same. You do too, furrowed eyebrows staring at the door. Another crash causes people to begin to rise, and the teacher starts ushering everyone out of the class to the closest exit route. You’re frozen in confusion and fear, pencil halted in your fingers, even as another noise makes the teacher run out behind the class.

It’s quiet for a moment, and you’re still sitting in your seat, eyes wide and heart racing. Then, you spring up to follow the rest of your cohort, sneakers squeaking against the tiled floor as you run to the door. Swinging it open, you stick your head out the door and look around, trying to see if the coast is clear. With a planet full of interdimensional attacks, you can’t be sure, and looking left leads you to see a scaly, large animal type of thing. You squeak, startled, and immediately retreat into the class before it notices you. What the fuck do you do? What are you meant to do?

The whole room begins to shake, and you have a feeling the creature’s getting closer. Beakers are thrown to the floor from the vibration ringing throughout the room, glass shattering loudly, and you feel like you’re about to scream, or cry, or run, and you can’t run.

Doing the only thing you can think of, you cower to the floor, hiding underneath a table donned in smashed beakers. You’re curled up in a ball, watching students standing outside murmuring and discussing their own safety, and then the shaking stops.

The door swings open. Everything outside the classroom is too intimidating, items being thrown everywhere, and you can’t even bring your legs to move with how badly they’re shaking. Who’s just walked in? You pray for Jisung. You pray for someone who’s going to help you hide, someone who’s going to keep you safe, and then-

A masked face pops underneath the table. He’s lithe, slender, but the tight red and dark blue suit highlights the hint of abs and sculpted biceps on his body. Holy fucking shit. Your eyes widen. Spiderman is in your school.

“Are you okay?” His voice is deep, but it sounds almost like someone putting on a deeper voice to hide their identity. You nod hesitantly, and then he’s extending a gloved hand towards you, pulling you out from underneath the table. You’re unable to speak. Once you’re standing in front of him, you notice he’s around a head or so taller than you, but definitely not as tall as you thought he’d be. He sighs, chest heaving with panic. You suppose it must be pretty tough work fighting aliens from outer space. “I’ve webbed him up for now, but it won’t hold much longer. Go- please, go and run. Please, anywhere, just- go and hide, or run.”

“I-I-”

“Promise me, b- um, you. I can’t let you get hurt.”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “I- Yes, I promise, I’m going to- I’ll go, thank you, thank you-”

“Wait, no!” He shouts, rubbing his temples - or at least, you’d imagine he was but he’s just rubbing the mask in frustration. You watch as he bounds over to the window, kicking it open, and the students outside turn to the classroom in awe. You’re rooted in place, as if vines are circling your ankles and securing you to the floor, mouth agape. You wait for him to give you further directions, and you gasp when he runs back over to you, picking you up and carrying you over to the window. You feel light as a feather, and all you can think is how he’s even carrying this amount of strength in that small body. “Too risky. Outside.”

“O-Outside?” You stammer, cheeks bright red, and he nods. He leans to place you out of the window, delicately placing you on your feet, and then he speeds off, shouting a quick “see you later!”.

You blink. You can hear the noises of walls breaking and windows shattering as Spiderman fights, and Felix runs up to you from the crowd outside and slings an arm over your shoulder. You’re still staring inside the classroom as if you can see through walls and watch the fight. What did see you later mean?

What’s the likelihood, honestly? You knew he was the friendly neighbourhood guy, and all that, but why not Bang Chan, in his sleek nanotech suit? This was a big fight. You find yourself getting worried, biting your nails in concern for the man you don’t even know. You have to remind yourself of that. He saved you because you’re any other citizen, not for any other specialty - you don’t know this guy.

“C’mon, over here,” Felix ushers you over, tone soft. When you’re with him, Seungmin and Jeongin, he sighs, rubbing your back. “Crazy, right? At least you can say you met Spiderman now.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Jisung is safe, thank god. You kind of feel guilty for not worrying about him at the moment, but he’d text you shortly after, saying he’d left just before it all kicked off because he felt a little under the weather. He wanted to make sure you were okay, though, so he texted you as soon as he could. You’d never admit the blush that rose to your cheeks when you read it.

It’s quiet in your room. Your parents had sprinted to you as soon as you’d come through the door, having seen the situation on the news, and you’d reassured them that Spiderman had saved you. It definitely changed your dad’s perspective of him, and now you lie on your bed feeling more than relieved.

Your fingers tap on your tummy in thought, though. He was making his voice deeper, that much you could tell, but why? How was he there so quickly? There’s no fucking way he was a student. Still, that body in the tight suit… you’d definitely been looking. You’re a woman, of course you were going to look. He had a figure enviable to every man. Broad shoulders, abs just slightly visible, strong legs that carried you over to the window…

In your dreamlike fantasy, you’re considering something you previously never would’ve thought of. What if Jisung was underneath that suit? Now, that would be perfect. Both of your crushes being one being, Jisung pulling that suit up his lithe thighs and letting it settle over his broad pecs.

Before you know it, your hand is dipping under the hem of your pyjama pants, unable to feel guilty for thinking about your best friend in this way. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time, with many of your nights spent whimpering into your pillow and coming apart on your own fingers wishing they were his. He had such nice hands… What if it was him who had grabbed you from underneath that table? Your hand trails down to find your folds, slick and ready for whatever you had in store, but you focus on your clit, swollen and aching between your bottom lips. Would he finger you in the gloves if you asked, let you ride his abs in the suit until completion? Would he kiss you upside down, hanging from the-

A tap on your window makes you jump. The room is dark, save for your bedside lamp, and you turn rapidly to see a faceless figure just about popping in from the corner. You yank your hand out of your bottoms, squeaking, and then you squint to try and see the figure closer.

Holy shit. Spiderman is at your bedroom window.

Your cotton tank top is revealing, so you turn immediately to reach for your dressing gown and tie it around your figure. You pad over to the window in your socks, still wide-eyed and completely baffled, and then you turn the handle to allow him access. What the fuck?

“What the fuck?” You blurt, toes curling against your floor. Spiderman swings inside instead of responding, walking around your room like he’s been there a million times before. “No, seriously, what the fuck?”

He turns to you, shrugging. “I said I’d see you later, didn’t I?”

You blanch. He did say that, yes, but that still doesn’t explain the million questions you have right now. “Well, yeah, but- how do you know where I live?”

“I- uh, found it in the school office,” He hops up onto your bed, sitting cross legged. His mask hides his face, but he hums in pleasure at the feeling of the bedsheets on him. “After the fight, I went in there. Glad you’re okay, by the way.”

He’s still making his voice deeper, and you blink, nodding in response. “I’m great. Can I- can I ask why you’re here?”

He shrugs again, fiddling with a loose thread on your duvet. “No reason. Got bored. I was swinging around and remembered I saw your address on the computer.”

“Right,” You shake your head, still baffled. Instead of questioning him further, you jump onto the bed in front of him and copy his position, cross legged. “Don’t you have, like, recovering to do? I heard you got beat pretty bad.”

“Nah, no way,” He scoffs, rolling his neck. You suppress a smile. Cocky. “Spider venom, y’know? It repairs everything super quick.”

You were right. You can’t suppress a smile at his response, clicking your fingers at his masked face. “I fucking knew it! I guessed it was the venom.”

He stops fiddling with the duvet, turning to you and tilting his head in question. “You’re smart, aren’t you? Hey, are you the one that’s friends with that kid?”

You narrow your eyes. Jisung’s a liar. If Spiderman knows who he is, that means they’ve met more than once, and Jisung lied. You reach for your phone, ready to bitch him out via text, but Spiderman knocks your phone out of your hand. You turn to him, confused.

“Talk to me,” He whines. “I told you I was bored!”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, damn. Yes, I’m friends with Jisung. Why?”

“No reason,” He wiggles forward on your bed, grabbing your hand. You’re confused, but then he launches you into an intense thumb war, one that you were never going to win. Everytime you go to move your thumb in response to his, he’s got you pinned, and before he speaks again you’re five rounds down. “He’s pretty cool, right?”

“Who?” You ask, still focusing on the thumb war.

“Jisung,” He clarifies, clearing his throat. Making his voice that deep must be taking its toll on his vocal chords. “He’s kinda cool. Super smart, I thought.”

“He definitely is,” You laugh when he pins your thumb down again, swatting at his wrist to get him off of you. “He’s smarter than me.”

“And, uh,” He clears his throat again, leaning back on your bed. Leaning back like that, you have a full view of his body in his suit, and you have to stare at the posters on your wall to avoid looking at him. He puts his hands behind his head, the full picture of relaxation, and you wished he’d stop throwing you this random curveball behaviour. “Is that all you think of him? Just smart?”

You blush, finally reverting your eyes to him. “What do you mean?”

“I just mean… Do you have a crush on him, or?”

“Who wants to know?” You bristle, playing with your hands in your lap. You look down at your chipped nail polish, awkwardly shifting on the bed in your pyjamas. “I don’t even know who you are.”

“No one knows who I am,” He responds easily. “I want to know. Tell me. Do you have a crush on him?”

“I’m not telling you that-”

“I’m bored!” He whines again, sitting up. You let him grab your hand again, pulling your pinky finger into a promise. You swear you see the mask smile. “Tell me!”

“Okay, damn,” You sigh, exasperated. Was he on molly or something? Are you dreaming? “I guess so. I guess I always have, yeah, I don’t know. I don’t think he’d ever like me like that.”

He coos at that, taking your hand in his. It’s strangely comforting. “Why not?”

“He’s- well, I don’t think I’m good enough for someone like him,” You admit, scratching the back of your neck. “It’s awkward. He’s my best friend. It would ruin things, and I guess I’ve never let myself think about it like that.”

“You should,” He hums. You blink, staring at him. What the hell is he on about? “I just mean you should. Maybe he likes you too, y’know? I like my best friend. I’d love to know if she likes me back.”

“You do?” You wiggle closer, eager to know more. “You like your best friend? What’s she like?”

“Well,” He strokes your hand again before pulling away, leaning his chin on his hand. “She’s super pretty. Smart, too. I’ve known her since like, forev- for a few years, I think, in total.”

“It’s kind of the same with me and Jisung,” You sigh again, pouting. “I’ve known him for my whole life, basically. I’m just scared it’ll ruin things, but I think about him a lot when I’m on my own.”

He snickers. “Really? Like when you’re doing what you were doing when I got here?”

You swat at his shoulder, blushing bright red. “Shut up, oh my god! I thought you- shut up. Just don’t.”

“Maybe he thinks about you then too, I don’t know,” He shrugs nonchalantly, and then he’s getting up and pacing around. You watch him fiddle with a few photo frames on your desk, humming at ones of you and Jisung when you were younger and even fiddling with a few of your academic medals and prizes. “I won’t tell him, by the way.”

“You see him often?” You ask, voice soft. “He said-”

“Nah, I’ve only seen him once or twice,” He stretches his arms above his head, still staring at your desk full of trinkets. “He doesn’t know who I am.”

“Can I know?”

He turns to you. “Know what?”

“I want to know who you are,” Your voice is confident, but you feel anything but, teeth chewing your bottom lip nervously. “You saved me, and now you’re in my bedroom. I feel that I deserve to know.”

He sighs loudly this time, walking towards the window. “When we get to know eachother better, maybe.”

“Wait, hang on,” You watch him sling a foot out of the window, exasperated. He can’t leave! “Where are you going? I thought you said you were bored-”

“Things to do, baby,” He replies quickly. You blink. That ‘baby’ sounds awfully familiar, and you stand up quickly to walk towards the window, but he’s already webbing away. “Bye!”

You stand there, shocked and confused. He’s swinging from building to building away from you, and you’re just standing there like an idiot. You were interrupted before you could even start touching yourself, forced into a thumb war and coerced into admitting your deepest, darkest secret, and then he just… leaves? Just like that?

Your life is proving to be a little more interesting than you thought, but your dreams were filled with familiar round cheeks beneath a red and blue mask.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“Baby, is there a reason why your eyes are burning holes into the side of my head?”

You’re convinced your best friend is Spiderman. There, sitting beside you with his glasses sliding down his nose and comfortable in a grey hoodie and pink Hello Kitty pyjama bottoms on, it’s hard to believe. But you’re not stupid.

First of all, since he started that internship with Mr Bang, he’s been weird about letting you inside his room. This is the same person that you had many sleepovers with growing up, and as recently as a few months ago you’d been cuddling in bed together watching Howl’s Moving Castle. He has something to hide, but you’d been let down when you’d arrived at his house earlier and shouldered past him to find literally nothing of suspicion inside his room, other than an anime girl mouse pad with the boobs to rest your wrist on. You knew that existed though, ever since his birthday last year when Felix had gifted it to him, so what gives?

Secondly, Sohee is more stressed out than ever. You’d caught sight of her flitting around the kitchen when you arrived for your homework friend-date, scrubs on and ready to head to the hospital but still panicking about something. Jisung said multiple times that he’d been helping her out more and that’s why he’s been so busy lately. She shouldn’t still be panicking.

Thirdly, Spiderman wouldn’t make his voice deeper to you unless you knew him. He wouldn’t need to, or you wouldn’t recognise his voice - unless it’s a habit he’s picked up, perhaps. That doesn’t change that the way he called you baby last night sounded a little bit too familiar, too comfortable. It came out of his mouth like second nature.

Still, it makes no sense. Surely Jisung would have told you? You’re his best friend, he said so, so he’d tell you. Or would he? Maybe Felix knows. You’re also hoping deep down that it isn’t true, because if it is, you told your crush last night that you liked him.

You can’t even be mad at Jisung for it. He’s still staring at you, and you’re staring blankly back while shoving snacks into your mouth. There’s crumbs all over your homework.

“Jisung,” You begin, and he hums in response. “Would you tell me your deepest, most serious secret if I worked it out?”

He chokes on his energy drink, spluttering neon blue liquid all over his bed. You want to giggle, to make fun of him, but you’re sure you’ve gotten somewhere here. He wipes his mouth, clears his throat, and turns back to you. His hands are shaky where they clutch his textbook, and his eyes are almost blurry through the glasses. “I tell you everything anyway.”

“I don’t think you do,” You respond, quick as a beat. He blinks, lips parting. “Not by that reaction, Jisung. I think you’re hiding something from me.”

He scratches his nose with the end of his pen, looking down at the textbook again. You raise an eyebrow. “I’m not hiding anything.”

“Okay,” You hum. He sighs, scribbling something on the paper. It’s so quiet in the room that you can hear his pen scribbling, but you’re speaking again before you can even think. “Did I tell you Spiderman came to my room last night?”

He gulps audibly. “Nope.”

“Yeah, it was kinda weird,” You take a sip from your energy drink, still staring at him vacantly. Jisung’s eyes flit up to you, and then back down to the textbook. Oh, he knows. He knows that you know. He knows that you know that he knows. “He saved me in school, when that alien thing was there, and then he came to my room and asked me about you.”

“He, uh- really? Did he?”

“Mhm,” Your gaze is steely. “Jisung, I know you’re Spiderman.”

Jisung bursts out laughing. It would be believable, but you’ve known him since you were four years old and it’s a fake laugh. He’s cackling, loud as brass, and he lets out a little “ooh” afterwards as if he can’t believe you. “Baby, that’s the craziest theory you’ve ever come up with.”

“Is it?” You question, head tilting to the side. Then, in the smartest moment you’ve ever had, you pick up Jisung’s energy drink from the floor. He’s still looking at you, a fake smile on his lips, and you take a sip from it casually. Sharing drinks isn’t new for you. You glug back the artificial blue raspberry flavour, and then keeping eye contact with him, you let go.

Before the can is able to fall and spill the rest of its contents over your own textbook, and inevitably Jisung’s One Piece bed sheets, he reaches out and grabs it, hand wrapping around the can, quick as a flash. It all happens in about a second, and you gasp. Jisung gasps. His hand tightens around the can and it crinkles, an impossible show of strength, and then he’s blinking at you. You raise an eyebrow.

“I knew it.”

He puts the can safely on the bedside table, and then he’s slamming his textbook shut. You watch in confusion as he paces back and forth on his bedroom floor, running his hands through his hair over and over.

“Okay!” He points at you, victorious. “That was a reflex. I knew you were going to do that, I’m smart, duh! I knew you were going to drop the can to prove something, and-”

“Jisung,” You say, voice soft. He stops pacing, sock clad feet rooted on the carpet to stare at you. You’re going to get him. You’re going to get him good. “Do you not want me to know? Is that what this is?”

He immediately falls to the floor, head resting on your knee as he looks up at you. You can’t even feel sorry for him, because your plan is working perfectly. His eyes are round and vulnerable, and then he clenches them shut in distress. You think he’s probably a second away from crying. “Baby, it’s not that. I wanted to protect you. It would be dangerous if the bad guys knew who you were, knew that you knew, and I know I shouldn’t have come to your room, that was wrong of me, and-”

You giggle. Jisung furrows his eyebrows, eyes opening. “I knew I was right.” He gasps, pointing at you again.

“Judas! You’re a judas!” He’s shocked, leaning back on his haunches and staring at you. “I can’t- I can’t believe you, that was so-”

“Sneaky? Good? Smart?” You list, leaning back on his twin bed. He stands up, hands on his hips. You’re ready for him to bitch you out, but you don’t care - you knew that you had to know, had to have it confirmed. He taps his foot, and then you see a smile break out on his lips.

“Okay, yeah, that was pretty good,” He hums, returning to the bed. You let him shut your own textbook and sprawl across you, head in your lap. “I’m sorry, baby. I should’ve told you.”

You sigh, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair. “That’s okay, Ji. It’s fine. I’m just a little embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed? Why?” Jisung asks, his eyes fluttering shut from the feeling of your nails on his scalp. You want to scoff. Embarrassed for two major reasons - one, because you’ve been gushing about how cool Spiderman is for weeks, maybe even months, and two because you told Spiderman last night that you liked Jisung. Spiderman and Jisung are the same person. Sure, it makes things easier. You no longer have a crush on two people, only one, but it doesn’t change the fact that Jisung knows and is yet to say anything.

“I’ve been talking to you about Spiderman for weeks,” You blush, pushing his hair off of his forehead. He whines, thrashing his feet and shaking his head like a dog to hide his forehead again. He’s so dramatic. You like him so bad. “And- and you- it was you, then. You came to my room last night.”

“Yeah, that was risky,” He responds, exasperated. “I just had to, baby. I don’t know, you always seemed so interested in Spiderman and not me. I needed to know if you saw me like you saw him.”

You pause your movements on his head, blinking at the wall in front of you. When you turn back to him, he’s blushing, teeth gnawing his bottom lip. His eyes are conveniently staring at the window, away from you.

“Jisung,” You start, hesitant. “What do you mean?”

He sits up sharply. “Wanna go on the roof?”

“T-The roof? Jisung, how are we gonna- oh. Oh.”

Jisung jumps up from the bed, toeing his sliders onto his feet and pushing the window open. It gives you deja vu - that same figure was pushing the window open just like this to place you safely outside in school yesterday, and then he was coming through your window to see you late at night. It’s hard to believe that they’re the same person, the man you admired so much and your best friend who’s standing by the window expectantly waiting for you to join him.

You hesitantly stand up, brushing off imaginary crumbs from your joggers and looking at Jisung. He smiles, a soft, reassuring smile, and then he’s scooping you up from the floor and wrapping your legs around his waist. It’s slender, the plush flesh of your thighs almost obscuring it, and you squeak in surprise at being in the air.

“I- Jisung?!”

“You have to hold on tight,” He says. His face is inches away from yours, plush lips looking more than appealing and his glasses making him look so endearing. “I need my hands for this, so hold onto my shoulders.”

You nod, face blushing crimson at the realisation of just how close you are. Would he have you like this if he fucked you? Legs around his waist, hands on his shoulders, his face so close to yours as he pants and whines and moans-

You squeak again when he slides out of the window, and then you see him in action. His hands stick to the outside of the apartment building, feet kicking up against the concrete wall. Your heart is racing so badly it feels as though it could burst out of your chest, but you’re not sure if it’s because of the height or because you’re tightly pressed against Jisung.

When he swings you both over the side ledge on the roof, you notice the sun’s set already. Time always goes by quickly with Jisung, but the stars are already out, and the air is crisp and biting against your limbs despite the layers. Once he’s safely stood on the roof, he places his hands underneath your thighs and detaches you from his firm body, placing you on your feet.

You’re disorientated, shocked at the sheer height of the building and at the way Jisung seems to be swinging you around like it’s nothing, but he’s simply staring at you. A wide smile stretches from ear to ear, and he blinks when you don’t say anything. “It’s cool, right?”

“Y-Yeah, super cool,” You admit, chest heaving. “Really high up, but cool. Jisung, why are we on the roof?”

He’s wrangling you, hands on your arms and pushing you to the floor. It feels firm, but with what you now know about him, you know he’s holding back. He plops down next to you, eyes wide and expectant.

“I wanted to do it properly,” He begins. He pauses for a moment, licks his lips, pushes his glasses up his nose, and then he’s speaking again. “I like you, so that’s why I asked. Is it romantic up here? It feels romantic, but I’m not too sure-“

He stands up and begins pacing around the roof before you realise he’s even moved. You raise an eyebrow. “Jisung?”

“I wanted to do this right, y’know?” He pauses, hands on his hips. He looks comical, trying to assert dominance over you like that in those Hello Kitty pyjama trousers. “I- I wanted to swing by and like, grab you, or something? But then you worked it out, and now I’m just standing here with you on a roof…”

He continues mumbling like a mad scientist, eyes focused on a spot next to your head. You stand up, making your way towards him, and he still refuses to look at you. He likes you back. He likes you back, and he’s still your best friend - he’s still Jisung, but he’s also Spiderman, and you’re okay with that. You don’t have to like two people. You only like one, and it’s your goofy best friend.

“Is this even romantic? You know, we could just forget about it and-“

You press your lips to his. He doesn’t make any form of surprised noise, only cupping your cheeks with his hands and pulling you close to him. His glasses bump against your face, his lips pouty against yours and plush and maybe a bit too wet for a first kiss, but you’d always figured he’d take it too far. That’s what you like about him. Jisung never does anything by halves.

It’s brief, too brief for your liking, but then he’s pulling away with a satisfied grin on his face. You blink. Wait.

“Wait, your stupid- your stupid spidey things. Did you know I was going to kiss you?” You pout, and he giggles. “No, seriously! Could you like- I don’t know, feel it coming?”

“Not until you were like, a few inches from my face,” Jisung admits, and his teeth gleam in the brilliance of the evening. “I had a feeling you might.”

You sigh. “So why didn’t you stop talking?”

“Dunno,” He shrugs. “I couldn’t stop once I started.”

The statement is so true to Jisung, so in character for your best friend that you can do nothing but accept it.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

It’s easy to fall into a different routine with Jisung.

He never asked you to be his girlfriend. You’re pretty sure you’re fine with that, though - things have had a natural manner of progressing, and now your best friend slash boyfriend slash superhero turns up at your window every night after he’s been on his neighbourhood patrol. Sometimes he’s a little bruised, and sometimes he’s just looking for consolation kisses.

It’s a normal night for you when it happens. Jisung’s halfway out of your bedroom window on his way to perform perfect justice, pulling his mask down over his annoyingly beautiful face. You’re standing a few feet away grinning like an idiot.

“I’ll see you later, my baby,” You can see his grin through the mask. The eyes on his mask form beautiful crescent moons with his happiness. He falters, legs swinging on your windowsill. “Wait. I am coming back here, yeah?”

“Of course,” You giggle. He sends you two fingers in a mock salute, and you watch him begin his journey up the wall to your roof. A beat passes and you’re still standing there, smiling, hands on your hips, and then the masked head of your best friend pops back down into your window, upside down, tilting to the side in confusion. You blink, confused. “What is it, Sungie?”

“Well, where’s my goodbye kiss? Damn,” He huffs, and you roll your eyes playfully. You make your way to the window, sock-clad feet padding on your carpet, and you pull his mask down to his eyes with two fingers. It miraculously stays on his head, and his lips form a teasing grin.

Despite him being upside down, you place a chaste kiss to his lips, and you watch in amusement as he swings away afterwards. You can still hear him giggling with glee from a few buildings away.

It’s a few hours later when he comes back. You’re flicking through a book for English, scrawling notes and highlighting words on sticky notes. It’s started to rain, and the city lights only look brighter in the dusk with the pattering of water on your window. You left it open, of course, for your superhero, but the cold air bites at your arms even through the fluffy blanket you’ve got wrapped around yourself.

Just as you’re beginning to contemplate closing it, a louder, more prominent tap hits the glass. When you turn to the window, Jisung is slouched against your windowsill, chest heaving beneath red lycra and forehead pressed against the glass. He’s got his mask between his teeth, and his hair is dishevelled, floppy brown locks obscuring his eyes. You can still catch sight of the bruising on his cheekbones and you gasp, rushing towards the window.

You drop your blanket in shock, but you swing the window open, pulling Jisung inside with one hand. He stumbles through, disoriented and confused, and you lead him to sit on the edge of your bed.

“Got hurt,” He explains, huffing out a breath. The mask drops from his teeth unceremoniously, with a wet plop to your carpeted floor, but you don’t care. You rush to sit next to him, fingers gripping his chin to pull him to face you. His eyes are round, sincere, and he gives you a soft smile. “It’ll heal before long, baby, don’t panic.”

“I am panicking,” You say, resolute, because you really are. Bruising is scattered across his cheekbones, fading into green on the plush of his cheeks and his lip looks like it had been burst, but is already healing. “Will it- will it take long? Do you need me to get the first aid kit, or-“

“Baby,” He shakes his head, grabbing your hands. You watch with parted lips as he leans forward, both of you cross legged on the end of your bed. It reminds you of when Spiderman first visited you, when you weren’t quite sure of his identity. Jisung presses his forehead against yours, and you let him look into your eyes. It’s like he’s demanding everything that’s ever gone through your head to be vocalised. You’d tell him if he asked. “I’m really okay. I’m a little shaken up, but I’m fine. Most of it is on my ribs from falling, to be honest.”

“Your ribs?!” You shriek. “Show me. Let me see, I need to help you-“

You’re already trying to wrangle Jisung out of his suit, and he giggles, clearly thinking this is all just some game. He holds his arms up pliantly, though, and you don’t have the thought processing ability within you to realise that Jisung’s suit is an all-in-one and you’re currently stripping him down to his boxers.

The suit is wet too when you drop it to the floor, and before long you’re blinking at your best friend in his plain black boxers and he’s grinning at you as if this is any other day. There’s no bruising on his ribs. You’re staring at his abs, regardless, so you’re not sure you would’ve even noticed.

“You look fine.”

“I told you it heals quickly, baby,” He grins. You blink when he wriggles on your bed, laying on his back and stretching his arms above his head again, this time to get comfortable. His legs stretch out too, and you avoid looking anywhere below his waist.

His body is a spectacle. You can’t stop looking. Broad shoulders taper off into an extremely defined chest and a tight, thin waist adorned with prominent abdominal muscles, before reaching a v-line that leads into his boxers. You’re wide eyed, wanting nothing more than to reach out and run your fingers down his honey toned skin.

“Why-“ You cough, clearing your throat. Jisung raises an eyebrow. He’s grinning from ear to ear, teeth gleaming. “Why did you let me strip you if you’re literally fine?”

The bruising on his cheek is already fading. He shrugs nonchalantly, crossing his arms over his chest. His biceps bulge with the movement and you think you might choke on your own spit. “You seemed pretty determined, so I just allowed it. You wanted to see me naked, I assumed, so-“

“Jisung!” You wail, slapping his shoulder. He groans in pain, catching your hand, and he grits his teeth with a hiss.

“My shoulder! Fuck, that hurt, ouch, baby! What was that for?!”

You gasp. He clutches his shoulder, letting out little pants of hurt sounding noises. You let your head fall to his chest, engulfing him with a hug. “Jisung, I’m so sorry-“

“Hehe,” He giggles. When you look at him, he’s sticking his tongue out, completely fine. You groan, annoyed you fell for it, and then he’s grabbing your forearms and pulling you upwards on top of him.

Your breasts press against his chest like this, due to your lack of bra in your sleep shirt, and his eyes widen when he feels it. Instead of letting you go, his hands move to your back, encompassing you in his strong hold.

You gasp, wiggling in his grip, and he licks his lips. His eyes go to your lips, and then back up to your eyes, as if he’s hesitant.

“I-“ He begins, faltering. “Are you my girlfriend?”

You scoff out a laugh. “I don’t know, am I?”

“I hope so,” Jisung admits, his facial expression vulnerable. His eyes dart to something behind you, as if he’s not sure, almost shy. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him shy. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask, but I want you to be, if you want to be.”

“I want to be,” You nod. He nods in response, and you watch his eyes flicker to your lips again. It’s silent for a moment, and then he leans in, pressing his lips against yours.

The kiss is more charged than usual. Before now, you’re used to chaste, fleeting kisses from your superhero, but now he lets his tongue tease against the seam of your lips. Your eyes flutter shut, and his eyelashes brush against your skin where he does the same. You let your lips part, and Jisung’s quick to grip your back harder, tongue darting inside your mouth with impatience.

You’ve made out with someone before. You’d never had sex with someone before, but you had made out with someone. It was only once at a party when you were a little bit younger but it had felt like a good idea at the time. You’re sure Jisung’s lost his virginity though, but when he whimpers against your lips and his hips squirm a little you’re not too sure.

You pull away from the kiss, lips a little wet, and Jisung’s mouth goes to your neck. You allow him to suck a mark into the expanse of skin just underneath your jaw, his fingers grabbing impatiently at your back. “Sungie, are you a virgin?”

Jisung pulls away, licking his lips. You feel something hard pressing against your thigh where you lay on top of him. You’re thanking every entity ever that your parents are out for a work dinner. “Yeah, I am. I would have told you if I wasn’t,” He confirms, a little breathless. His hips wiggle again. “Is that- is that okay, baby?”

“Yeah, of course,” You smile, comforting. You peck his lips again and he grins back at you. “I am too.”

“I know,” He responds, quick as a flash. You blush. That’s embarrassing. “No, I just mean- you also would’ve told me, y’know?”

“That’s true,” You shrug. You’re feeling a little overconfident, and you move in his hold, having felt it gone a little lax with your kissing. You let your thighs spread over his hips, his hard shaft pressing against your core through your pyjama bottoms and his boxers. You still feel it, though, and it makes your pussy gush a little. “Is- is this okay?”

He’s blushing. His lips part, and he nods, perhaps too eagerly because he clutches his neck afterwards like he’s got whiplash. “Baby, you’re- I have a pretty girl in my lap. This is so okay. Like, so okay, I might have a heart attack and die, probably.”

You shift, and he winces. “Sorry,” You say. It’s a fake apology. You want to swallow his cock down your throat until he cries, and you don’t even know how to. You’d try your best though. “If I lost my virginity, I’d want it to be with you.”

“Damn,” Jisung whistles, eyebrows raised. “Let me hit?”

You giggle, tilting your head to the side. “I’ll let you hit right now, Jisung.”

Jisung shoots upwards into a seated position. His eyes are wide. “Right now?”

“Right now,” You confirm. You go from straddling his lap to laying on your back on your bed in a flash, and Jisung looms over you, all tight, toned muscles and broad shoulders.

“I’ll make it so good, baby, I promise,” He says, and then he’s kissing you again. It’s even messier this time, lips pressing against yours over and over and his tongue adding a collection of spit to the mix. You let your thighs fall apart, his hips quick to fill the space and press his cock against you. His hands go to your waist as he kisses you, sucking and biting on your lips until you’re whining with it, but he doesn’t let up. He’s desperate, messy, and it’s only making your pussy drool even more.

The rain hits the window still, cooling off a little but still providing a calming effect to your room when combined with the orange-pink of your lamp. He inches his palms up your shirt, the softness of his hands surprising you, and then he’s pulling away from your mouth to yank the fabric over your head.

You’re left in just your pyjama bottoms, lips kiss bitten and nipples pebbled against the cool air of your bedroom. You never had shut your window, after all.

“Oh,” Jisung says, exasperated. You finally open your eyes to see him staring at your tits, and you think he might be drooling. “Oh, yeah, my baby. They are so fucking good.”

You almost laugh, but you’re cut off by your own strangled moan when his pouty lips engulf your right nipple. He sucks on it, hard, and when your back arches he lets it slip out of his mouth with a wet popping noise. It’s only a brief moment of reprieve before he’s letting his teeth skim along the bud, and you keen, fingers moving upwards from his shoulders to grip onto the pillow behind your head.

“Oh, that’s so- Sungie, baby, that feels good,” You whine, and he hums against your breast. When he moves to the other one, he tweaks your wet nipple between two fingers. It’s experimental, but the whole thing is, and you buck your hips up impatiently.

His hands move to your ass, scooping underneath you and making you grind slightly against him. The movement makes him moan, your nipple leaving his mouth. A string of drool attaches to his lips and his tongue lolls out lazily, and before you can process it, he’s grinding his cock into your clothed centre.

“Oh- oh, fuck,” He whines, eyes clenching shut. You whimper in response, arms wrapping around his shoulders. “Baby- baby, baby. Baby, I’ve thought about this so much, I- fuck, you’re gonna feel so good around my cock.”

His words are so crude that they make you keen, nodding enthusiastically. “I thought about it too. I- I touched myself thinking about it, Sungie, did you?”

He gasps sharply, and there’s a fumbling between your legs. He rocks backwards on his haunches, and you see him gripping his cock impatiently underneath his boxers, fingers wrapped tight around the base.

“I will literally cum if I imagine that,” He huffs, breathless. “But yes. I did, many times, and- and- baby, can I see your pussy?”

It’s so bold that you can’t say no. You never would have dreamed of saying no anyway, and you nod, wiggling your bottoms down your legs. You never wear a bra or panties underneath your pyjamas, and your pussy is revealed to him in all its drooly glory, folds sticking together with your arousal.

Jisung’s jaw goes slack. You watch him jerk his cock, eyes fixated on your wet hole, and you shift impatiently.

“I showed you mine, Sungie,” You huff. “Show me yours.”

He nods, eyes still glued to your pussy. Your clit is swollen with arousal, some wetness stuck onto it, and you reach down to trace your fingertips over it absentmindedly while he pushes his boxers down. His cock slaps up against the bottom of his tummy, cockhead leaking beneath his foreskin, precum slicking the smattering of hair at his base. His balls look heavy, shaft swollen and fat between lithe thighs, and you can’t help but go a little googly eyed at the thought of him stretching you out.

He grabs it, pumps his cock a few times while you rub your fingers over your clit. “Is- is it okay, baby?” He gasps, cock leaking steadily in his fist.

“You’re so sexy, Sungie, ‘s so big. I- oh,” You whine, spreading your arousal over your folds. You prop your feet up, letting your legs fall wide, and the movement must expose your soppy hole to Jisung because his eyes widen even further. “I want you inside of me so bad. I’ve wanted it for so long, I just- shit, Jisung, what are you-“

You’re cut off by him diving between your legs. His cock is forgotten, his hands looping around your ass again to spread you wide, and his tongue presses against your core. He moans at the taste, and you whimper out loud, head rolling against your pillow. It’s messy and you can tell he’s inexperienced, but when he sucks your clit between his lips you can’t find it in you to care.

“Oh, oh- baby, baby! You’re good at that, so good at that, baby,” You babble, trying your best not to grind up into his mouth. His mouth is just as wet as your pussy, his lips drooling all over you. You’re cut short when he flattens his tongue against your core, moaning out loud, and his hands move your ass just a bit. “I- you- Sungie-?”

“Grind on my face, baby, c’mon,” He murmurs, muffled by your folds, and you oblige. Your hand goes to his hair, yanking on the dark brown strands, and you hold him in place while you grind your pussy senseless on his tongue. Your boy is good with his mouth, you realise - he’s pliant, letting you make yourself cum on his tongue and lips, and after only a few grinds you’re sure you’re going to fall apart for him.

“Ah! Ah, oh, baby, your mouth is- Sungie, Sungie,” You whine, feet kicking on the bed. Your legs go flat, but as the pleasure builds up in your core, your thighs tighten around his ears. He likes this, moaning loud to the point the vibrations make you jolt. It’s all so wet, your pussy dripping with arousal and his saliva, dripping down to your asshole. It has you wondering if Jisung would eat your ass further down the line, and your eyes flicker to his - would he let you eat his? He probably would, with how submissive he’s being.

His hips buck downwards on the bed and he keens into your pussy, and you realise he’s humping your mattress. He’s so desperate for you that he just can’t help himself, and you moan, loud and unabashed. The sight has you hurtling towards your orgasm.

“I’m gonna fucking cum, baby,” You warn, and he finally lets up, pulling back to suck on your clit. His hand moves over to the top of your pussy, pulling your mound backwards, and the exposure of your clit directly to his lips is your downfall. You wail, bucking your hips into his mouth, and you can hear yourself talking and moaning but you’re not sure what you’re saying, only able to feel your hole gushing into Jisung’s mouth over and over.

Jisung licks over your clit a few times comfortingly, and then he’s on top of you again, face looming over yours. His right hand holds him up steadily and the other stays downwards, hooked on your thigh to keep you open.

“You taste delicious, baby,” He grins, mouth wet. When he presses his lips to yours he’s desperate, tongue darting into your mouth to let you taste your own cum. You let your hands fall to his chest, fingernails digging into the muscles. The filthiness of it all has you wriggling around impatiently again, and Jisung’s cockhead slips against your clit, making you whine into his mouth. He pulls away, gasping for air with the sensation, and you kiss the beauty spot on his cheek for good measure. “Baby. M-my baby, shit, can- can I fuck you now? Have you got a condom, I- shit, I need to fuck you?”

He’s breathless, giggling at his own desperation, and you nod eagerly. You’re on the pill, and realistically you’d want nothing more than him to creampie you, but you have a shred of logic still left in your brain. “No condom. I- I don’t have any, can you pull out? I know it’s not-“

“Don’t care,” He huffs, legs moving to prop himself up more securely. His knees dig into your bed, and he pulls your thigh further apart, letting his eyes fall down to your pussy. His face is more than pornographic when he sees the visual of his cockhead sliding through your folds, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted. He lets his eyes flutter shut, a small profanity leaving his mouth. “You’re sure I can fuck you raw? I- please, p-please, baby. I need to be inside.”

“Jisung,” You whine. He lets his tip bump against your clit again, and you grow too desperate, reaching down yourself to grab his cock. The feeling makes him whimper, his fingers ripping into the pillow beside your head with his superhuman strength, but you’re too out of it to care. You position his cock by your hole, soppy and wet with your own cum, and he can’t hold himself back - he pushes in, all of it at once, a long, anguished noise leaving his mouth. “Oh. Oh- Oh, Jisung, that’s-“

“Is it okay? Are you okay?” Jisung asks, breathless. “Does it hurt? I- baby, baby-“

He’s still completely stationary, but he can’t stop talking, chest heaving and flushed pink. You shake your head. It doesn’t hurt. You’re wet enough that he glided in so easy, stretching your pussy in the most pleasurable, delicious way. You didn’t think it would ever feel this good, but you’re sure it’s because it’s Jisung.

“God, is it- does it feel good?” He questions you, and you nod eagerly, hands moving to rest on his biceps. He repositions you both so that your legs are wrapped around his waist, his arms holding himself up over you, and the movement has him sliding deeper, making you whimper. “Can I-“

“Fucking hell, Jisung, can you just move?” You huff, annoyed, and he giggles. He shakes his head fondly, and then he’s thrusting into you, slow but steady.

“Oh, that’s good,” He slurs, eyes rolling back into his head. “That pussy’s good. Jesus, you’re- you’re tight on my cock, baby, like a fuckin’ vice.”

“Your cock is so good,” You whine, trying to fuck yourself back on him. Your pussy is so wet that every thrust makes an audible noise, ringing throughout your room. If anyone walked past now they’d hear the debauchery, and you’re not sure you’d even care. “Fuck, Jisung- Jisung, you’re big. Please, please, more, I need more!”

“Okay, okay,” He moans, and then his hips speed up. His balls slap against your asshole with every thrust, his cock pistoning into you at a pace that has you wailing. The headboard slams against the wall. “Oh, fuckin’- baby, this puusssy.”

“It feels so good. Your cock is stretching me out so good, baby-“

“Fuck, wait,” He whines, pulling out sharply. When you look down between his legs his cock is painfully hard, and his pubic hair is drenched with you. The sight makes you even more eager to get him back inside of you, but Jisung grabs the base of his cock tightly, his chest heaving. “I- I’ll cum if you talk like that. Fuck, this is so embarrassing!”

“I want you to cum,” You insist, leaning up on your elbows. Your pussy is still leaking steadily onto your bedsheets, and you make grabby hands at your boy to try and get him back inside of you. “You made me cum so good in your mouth, Sungie, c’mon. Make yourself cum with my pussy.”

“Oh my God,” He moans, eyes half lidded, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re dirty. My fucking dream, holy shit.”

He leans over you once more, pushing his cock inside of you. It slides back in easily with another wet noise, and you moan, smiling with delight. “Mm, fuck this pussy, baby, c’mon.”

“I- fuck, okay,” He keens, nodding. His teeth bite into his lower lip almost painfully, and you kiss his neck while he starts to fuck into you again. With a quick reposition you let your thighs fall apart and further back, and his cock starts to hit your g-spot incessantly. He pulls away from you, head lolling into your neck. His breaths fan over your skin, hot and heavy. “You’re so wet, why are you- how are you so wet, baby? This pussy, fucking- I’m gonna cum. I’m so close, I’m so close, please-“

The shred of logic has left your brain. His cock feels so good, thick and pressing inside of you. You have to let him do it. “Baby. Baby, do y’wanna- I’m on the pill, baby,” You say, breathless. His pace stops, hips halting, and he makes a confused noise. “Cum inside. Creampie this hole, Sungie, I know you want to.”

“Oh my fucking- baby? My baby, can I?” He wails, head pulling up to look at you. You catch sight of tears brewing in his eyes, glassy and unshed. “Baby, please, I’m gonna cum, please, where-? Baby?”

“Inside of me, Sungie,” You wrap your legs around him, pulling him inside of you, deep. You know he could get out of it if he wanted to, but he doesn’t, hips starting to pick up inside of you again. It’s fast, desperate and he keens, nodding. “You gonna fill me up, yeah?”

“Yeah. Y-yeah, yes, oh- I’m gonna fill you up,” Jisung’s words are slurred, quiet, and you let him fuck into you over and over. With a sharp noise, his hips slow once more, and you feel a rush of additional wetness inside of you. It’s warm, and you run your fingers through his hair while he fucks his cum inside of you. “Fuck. Baby, you’re so good to me, so good. Lettin’ me breed your cunt, and- and- oh. I’m still-“

He’s still cumming. It floods out of his cock and into your pussy steadily, and you giggle, feeling sated. Your delighted state of mind only lasts a second, because he pulls out sharply and wiggles down on the bed, attaching his mouth to your cunt. He’s eating his own cum out of you.

“Oh! Oh, Jisung, you’re- you’re dirty, Sungie, ah-“ You whine, fingers moving to his hair again. He licks you over and over until you’re wailing with it, your own tears brimming in your eyes from the overstimulation. Your hole feels stretched, a feeling you’re sure you could get used to, and you shake through a second orgasm.

Jisung’s quick to lean over you again, and then his thumb moves to your chin. He opens your mouth firmly, spitting your combined release into your mouth, and you moan, letting him press his tongue between your lips afterwards.

It’s messy and you let him kiss you for a bit, slow, languid, passionate kisses that have your core almost throbbing for more, if you weren’t so satisfied. Jisung’s soft cock presses against your tummy, wet with your combined arousal, and then he flops down next to you with a huff.

“God, I could go again,” He admits, hand running through his sweat mussed hair. When you turn to him, he’s grinning from ear to ear, and you giggle. He looks at you with a satisfied expression. “You’re the best. That was literally like, the best thing I’ve ever felt in my life. Even more than when I win some fight against an alien, or something.”

“Alien?” You ask, and then you remember. “Oh, yeah. Kinda forgot about that.”

“You forgot about me saving your life?!” He shrieks, thrashing around on the bed in a tantrum. “Seriously, if I wasn’t in love with you I would- ah. Oh.”

You blanch, blinking at him. It’s easy to ignore that you’re both naked when he’s just dropped a bombshell on you like that, and you let out a giggle. “That was sweet. I’m in love with you too, for the record.”

You’re attacked in a flurry of kisses, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re sure Han Jisung intrigues you just as much as his superhero alterego does, so it’s easy to accept.

#juno’s fics ♡ #han jisung smut #han jisung x you #han jisung fic #han jisung fanfiction #han jisung x reader #han jisung imagines #jisung smut #jisung fic #jisung fanfiction #stray kids smut #stray kids fic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids x you #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fics #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #skz fic #skz fanfic #skz smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios

[training4theapocalypse]

Tiny Stitches (Adrian Chase x gn!reader)

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: SMUT, Graphic injury detail, Handjob

Summary: Your Halloween plans are cancelled last minute. You’re ready for a night alone eating Halloween candy until Vigilante comes to your door needing stitched up.

A/N: Based on this ask by @impossibleheartflower - thank you! No pronouns are used but the reader is wearing a slutty nurse outfit. It’s pretty nondescript (e.g. no specific mention of skirt or pants) so the slutty nurse outfit can be whatever you want it to be. Maybe the real slutty nurse outfit is the friends we made along the way.

Masterlist

Chapter text

You dip your hand in your bubble bath to test the temperature - it’s not exactly going to make up for the fact that your Halloween date flaked at the last second but you know you’ll feel better when you take off this ridiculous costume and sink into the bubbles.

You hear a distant knock from your front door and turn off the tap. 

It’s sort of late for trick-or-treaters. Right? Maybe your apartment is the last stop for the kids who live in your building. You don’t want to end up on a register somewhere so you pull on a robe over your sexy nurse costume.

“Coming!” You rush out of the bathroom to unchain your front door. 

You let out a gasp of shock when you open it. Thud. A man’s body falls backwards into your apartment.

“What the fuck?!” 

Is he… dead?

Dread fills you as your eyes ping over every part of his figure, looking for signs of life. But it’s hard to tell when he’s dressed in a black and teal Halloween costume with his face completely concealed by a mask. 

Almost completely. 

His eyes are just visible behind the red visor on his mask. He blinks up at you. He blinks. He’s alive. 

The man dressed up as the masked Vigilante of Evergreen groans. “It’s me... Sorry.”

That voice is familiar. “Who- ?”

Vigilante stares up at you standing over him. He knows he’s got more pressing matters to worry about than being offended that you don’t recognise his voice but he can’t help it. He’d know your voice anywhere. Hell, he even recognises the way your keys jingle in the hallway when you get home from work. 

“I’m your neighbour… from across the hall.” He clutches his side with one hand so he can rip off his mask with the other. 

Oh.

‘Hot guy’ is the stupid thought that pops into your head when you stare at his upside-down face lying across your doorway. You realise who he is now after all, under his Halloween costume, with his dark, curly hair and sharp jaw - all that’s missing is his glasses. You’re not even sure of his name - you’ve been so used to referring to him as ‘Hot Guy Across The Hall’ in your friends’ group chat for months that you’re more accustomed to calling him that in your head.

‘Hot Guy Across The Hall took a package in for me today.’

‘I bet you’d like to take a package from Hot Guy Across The Hall.’

You snap out of it when you see a trickle of blood drip onto your floor. You look at the gloved hand clutching his side - he’s holding a wound on his abdomen. A dark puddle of blood leaks through the fabric, staining the white parts of his gloves crimson. A new terror sets in as you realise he’s been attacked.

“Please, I need a nurse.”

“This…” You look down at your red and white polyester outfit and the plastic stethoscope around your neck that’s visible underneath your open robe. “This is a Halloween costume.”

“I know that. I’ve seen you in scrubs.”

“I’m a vet.”

“Uh, thank you for your service?”

“A veterinarian.” You stick your head out the door and look up and down the hallway, worried about anyone stumbling upon the bloody scene. “Get in here.” You slip off your robe so you can move freely, then bend down and drag Hot Guy Across The Hall by his underarms into your apartment, sliding him across your wooden floor and shutting the door behind him. Fuck, he's heavier than he looks.

Shit, what was his name?

“Aidan, right?”

“Close enough.” He groans, staring up at your ceiling. 

“Can you get up if I help you?” 

“Mhm,” he winces in affirmation and you bend down to put his arm around his shoulder. He inhales sharply, holding onto his side as you help him across your small apartment into your bedroom. You’re glad your apartment is clean. Not that you’d admit out loud that you’d tidied it specifically just in case your date had gone well tonight.

You help him onto your fresh bedspread. The blood is definitely going to stain your new sheets. Perfect.

“Okay, let’s see what we’re dealing with,” you say, tossing the plastic stethoscope aside and sitting beside him on the edge of the bed so you can assess the wound. “Wait, is your costume a onesie?”

“No,” he groans. “I just need to take off the belt-” He swears when he removes his hand from his side to unfasten his gunbelt. A jolt of adrenaline courses through you when you realise that attached to him are real guns.

“Okay, let me do that. You just keep applying pressure.” You firmly move his hands from his belt to his wound. The sound of metal on metal clicks in your silent bedroom when you gently unthread the belt from the loops. “There we go, you’re doing great,” you soothe as you place the belt and his gun on the floor and roll up the top half of his suit. Your fingers tremble slightly when you realise the fabric under them isn’t cheap polyester. It’s thick. Lined with what you expect is Kevlar. This is no bargain bin Halloween costume.

Oh shit.

There’s a long but shallow knife wound running down his ribs. It doesn’t look like there’s any damage to his vital organs. But it’s gruesome. “I’ll get my car keys - I’m taking you to a hospital.”

“Wait!” He tries to sit up but yelps in pain and lies back again.

“Please, I can’t go there… Too many questions.”

It confirms your suspicions. 

“You’re not dressed up for Halloween.” It’s not a question but you look up to see his response all the same. You’ve been so focused on his injury that you haven’t noticed the way his green eyes have been searching your face. He slowly shakes his head and looks at you beseechingly. Ugh. You can’t say no to those pretty eyes. It’s why you ended up becoming a vet - you just can’t resist the stupid, puppy-dog eyes. 

“I don’t have any anaesthetic. This is gonna hurt like a bitch.”

“Thanks.”

“Keep that sentiment in mind when you’re screaming in a second.”

You leave him and boil some water while you busy yourself finding your medical supplies and a bottle of vodka. You set up your things on the bedside table while you sit on a throw pillow on the floor next to the bed.

“God, this is always the worst bit.” He says, squinting at you dipping the gauze in the boiled water, getting ready to clean out the wound.

“Don’t you normally wear glasses?”

“They’re in my pocket.”

You reach into his pocket and carefully place them on his face. “Better?” He nods. “Or maybe you don’t wanna see this?” 

“Aren’t you gonna clean it out with vodka first?” He asks as your hand hovers over his wound, holding the gauze.

“Hell no - that’s only in the movies. Alcohol can damage your tissue. This is for us.” You open the bottle with one hand, take a quick swig and shudder before handing him the bottle.

“Shouldn’t you be sober for this?”

“Hey, the dogs never complain when I turn up to work drunk.”

“They don’t?”

Your face cracks into a smile as you take in the sincerity of his look. “A joke. I’m joking.”

“Oh, right. Yeah.” He takes a long gulp of vodka, screws up his face and passes it back to you.

You clean his wound and he clenches his fists, breathing heavily. 

“So, you said you’ve done this before?” You ask, trying to distract him.

“Yeah,” he says through gritted teeth.

You scan his toned lower abdomen and spot a gruesome-looking scar just under his navel. “Oof, I can tell. That looks like shit.”

“Hey-” He cuts himself off with a sharp inhale when you give the wound one last wipe. 

You thread the sterilised needle. “You ready?”

“Wait.” He extends his arm towards the vodka and you pass it to him so he can take another drink. He shakes his head. “Ready.”

“I’ll be quick. I promise.”

He groans when the needle breaks his skin. “So, what’s your name? If it’s not Aidan.” If you keep him talking, you can take his mind off the pain. Keep him conscious.

“It’s Adrian.”

“How about that? I was close.”

“I know yours. I get your packages sometimes.” He says your full name and address as if reciting a poem.

“Well remembered,” you say, furrowing your brow in concentration as you make the next stitch. He grabs your shoulder instinctively.

“Sorry,” he whimpers.

“It’s okay. You’re doing so good.”

His grip tightens at that.

“Anyway, how come you’re home more than me? You always get my packages. Doesn’t doing all this keep you busy?”

“I work nights. Mostly. Evenings too at my other job.”

“You’re a waiter, right? I’ve seen your uniform.”

“Busboy.”

“That’s cool,” you jabber on, focusing on keeping him distracted. “Must be a pretty convincing secret identity.”

“Right?!” He perks up at your compliment, extremely pleased that you think his secret identity is a good one. 

“Bussing tables in the evenings then committing murder at night?”

“It’s not murder.” He grimaces again. The grip on your shoulder is now vice-like. “It’s holding people accountable.”

“Sure, sure…” you say. You feel strangely calm. It’s as if the shy, awkward dude on your bed is just cosplaying as Vigilante. Even though you’re currently stitching up his fresh wound from whatever the fuck it is he’s been up to tonight.

“...You’re not gonna, like, tell anyone, right?” You feel his eyes studying your face as you continue stitching him up.

“That depends. What are you gonna do for me?”

For some reason, his cheeks turn crimson and he blinks rapidly behind his glasses.

“Uh, like what?” he blusters.

“Does your job have any perks?

“Uh… Do you need me to kill someone?”

“No!” And despite the absurdity of the question, you laugh. “I meant like free pink lemonade for life in exchange for stitching you up.”

“Ohhhh, right. I dunno. I might get asked a lot of questions if I give you free drinks.”

“More questions than you’d get at the hospital if I took you there instead?”

“Uh, no, probably not.” He chews his lower lip seriously and it makes you feel bad for teasing him in his sorry state. 

“I’m kidding, dude. My lips are sealed.”

The fact he’s Vigilante doesn’t scare you in the way you know it should. You know you should absolutely phone the police. But you kind of enjoy sharing this. A dirty little secret between the two of you. 

“Pink lemonade is overhyped,” he says after a few beats.

“Is is not! It’s like the best kind of lemonade.”

“It is - ow! Sorry! Okay, sorry for saying it’s overhyped! Pink lemonade is great. Jesus.”

“That wasn’t on purpose - sorry. It’s just the last stitch… Keep holding onto my shoulder if you want?” Before you even finish the suggestion, his blood-stained gloved grips onto your white nurse outfit. “You’re being so brave.” 

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpers.

His whimper makes you feel flustered in a way you hadn’t expected. And you’re pretty sure it’s nothing to do with the task at hand.

You can’t think of a response to comfort him. Your bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired - usually, your patients are much fluffier. You stop short of calling him a good boy and patting his head

Finally, you tie off your last stitch and squeeze some antibacterial ointment onto the neat row of stitches. 

“Done. Now take a look at this.” With difficulty, he hoists himself into his elbows to look at his stomach. “Evenly spaced stitches, not too tight, yeah? Now look at these.” You point at the scar on his lower abdomen. “Tiny stitches. They’re too tight. And you shouldn’t make X’s when you sew yourself up. Not bad for a second try, though.”

“That was like the fifth time I’ve done it,” he pouts. “I didn’t think it was that bad.”

“Look, you can feel how it’s gone all bumpy.” You trace your fingers along the scar, feeling the way the skin has healed unevenly under the trail of hair on his stomach. 

He flushes again as he looks down at you, your fingers brushing his abdomen.

“What?”

“Sorry.” He lies back again, determinedly looking at the ceiling.

“For what? Oh.” Your forearm brushes against something hard in his pants as you remove your hand from his stomach. “My bad.”

“It’s not - ” he winces, trying to sit up further but changes his mind mid-way through. “Fuck.”

“Does it hurt?”

“My… my boner?”

“No!” You crack up laughing again and he joins in uncertainly as if not sure why. “Your very recent knife wound?”

“Oh. Yeah. I mean - no.” His eyes linger on your body and you suddenly feel very aware of the fact that you’re kneeling at his side wearing not very much clothing. He swallows and looks away quickly. “Y’know, I should go. I don’t wanna ruin your night.”

You laugh like it’s nothing. That this whole situation is totally in your comfort zone.

“Don’t worry about it. I was supposed to be going to a Halloween party with a date but they bailed.”

“They bailed on you?”

“Eh, it happens.” You shrug. “They mighta had a better offer.”

“Than you?” He looks at you seriously and pushes his glasses higher up his nose. “No way. Not possible. You’re, like, a ten.”

You tilt your head and look at him carefully. He takes a sharp inhale of breath when you get up from the floor, sit on the bed next to him and place the back of your hand on his forehead.

“Wha - what are you doing?”

“You don’t seem to have a fever…” His eyebrows scrunch together as he gazes up at you through his wire-rimmed frames. “I just thought you might be hallucinating.”

“Don’t pretend like you’re not hot.”

“You don’t have to compliment me just because I stitched you up.”

“Am not!” he protests like you’re teasing him. “I’d compliment you all the time if you didn’t run off every time I saw you.”

It’s your turn to protest. “I do not ‘run off’.”

Although it’s not strictly true. You sort of do. You just thought he hadn’t noticed.

“Uh, yeah!” he says. “When you picked up that package last week? It was kinda impressive how fast you sprinted across the hall.”

You feel heat rising in your neck as you remember it. He had answered the door wearing just a pair of grey sweatpants, grinning as you read the indiscreet label plastered on the front.

‘HOSPITAL HOTTIE - ADULT FANTASY LINGERIE’

You had stammered a quick thanks before fleeing back to your apartment where you shut the door behind you and leaned against it, eyes closed, not sure whether to text your friends immediately with this news or to strip off and take a cold shower. 

You look down at your almost bare legs and smooth out the front of your outfit, now wishing you hadn’t so hastily thrown off your bathrobe. It must look ridiculous.

“Y’know when I saw the label, I thought a lot about what was in that package.”

Your eyes dart up instinctively to see if he’s making fun of you. He’s smiling. But sincerely. It’s a cute smile. With dimples.

“You did?”

“Tch - Hell yeah I did. I sort of… I dunno. Fantasised about this, I guess.”

Your throat feels dry. “About this?”

“Yeah, I mean I thought I might have been dreaming when you actually opened the door like that.”

You look at him suspiciously. “Adrian… did you - did you get stabbed on purpose so I’d take care of you?”

“What? No! I never get stabbed.”

“Never?”

You touch the scar on his lower abdomen again and this time - intentionally - your forearm rests on his crotch. 

“Well, hardly ever.”

“You should let me stitch you up from now on,” you say, as your fingers dance down his stomach. “The next rare occasion you get stabbed.”

The heel of your hand barely grazes the tip of his hard cock through his pants. When his eyes lock onto yours, you know you’re not being slick. He swallows. You freeze. You’re worried you’ve overstepped.

You both stare at each other for a few seconds.

You realise you’ve been holding your breath. “What else was in your fantasy?” you whisper in an exhale.

“Fuck.” He closes his eyes like he’s throwing caution to the wind. “This.” His gloved hand clamps on top of yours faster than you’d have expected in his injured state and he firmly moves your hand over his cock.

Fuck it.

Your hands work urgently, unzipping the suit hugging his waistline and suddenly his warm cock is under your palm.

He suppresses a groan of pain and you look up in alarm, worried that you’ve hurt him somehow but you can see he’s trying to sit up.

“Lie back - you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“It’s - ow, fuck - it’s worth it if I can kiss you.”

You push his chest back gently so he’s lying on your pillows and kneel on the bed to kiss him. As soon as your lips meet his, he tries to lift himself up again, lurching himself deeper into your mouth. Your tongue slips into his mouth as you push, more firmly this time, onto his chest so he can’t sit up.

You lean your forehead against his and his glasses push into your brow. “Keep still. Nurse’s orders.”

“I thought you were a vet,” he says breathlessly.

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

You lick your palm, wrap your hand around his cock and slide it along his shaft.

“Oh fuck... Fuck - you’re so hot. Where - where have you been all my life?”

His eyebrows knit together in a beautiful, pathetic sort of way that makes your lower tummy burn dangerously. 

“Across the hall in this slutty little outfit. Waiting to take care of you.”

“Holy fucking shit.” He tenses his thighs and jerks his hips up into your slick fist with a laboured groan.

“Don’t. Stay still,” you tell him sternly. For some reason your reprimand makes him clench his jaw.

“God, I wanna fuck you so bad,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Yeah? I bet you do. I bet you’ve been jerking off thinking about it.”

“Y- yeah,” he gasps. His cheeks are flushed pink. You don’t think it’s from embarrassment - you have a feeling he doesn’t embarrass easily so you press on.

“Tell me.”

“I’ve been - shit - I’ve been jerking off thinking about you.”

“Doing what?” Your hand picks up pace and he squirms underneath your touch.

“I told you. This.”

“Just this?”

“Fuck. No.”

“Tell me then,” you repeat.

“I wanted to - oh god - when you ran across the hall, I wanted to grab you.” His voice strains. “Pull down your scrubs and fuck you so hard you wouldn’t forget my name again.”

You feel yourself dissolving then and there. “Shit. I would have let you.”

“Ah - fuck,” he whispers as he throbs under your hand. “Let me. Please.”

“No.” You stay in your kneeling position on the bed - one hand bracing against his chest to prevent him from sitting up and the other pumping up and down his cock. “You’re hurt. Lemme take care of you.”

He whimpers and pushes his head back into your pillows. The muscles in his pale neck tighten as he swallows hard. You can’t resist leaning down and pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses on the exposed sensitive flesh of his throat.

“Relax, Adrian,” you murmur, your mouth pressed against his skin. 

When his name leaves your lips, his groan vibrates in his throat against your mouth in response.

“Fuck - fuck - you feel so good.”

“You know where’d feel better, right?”

Adrian’s hips jerk up into your hand again. You don’t scold him this time - you let him squirm and work his hips in sync with your fist. He can handle it.

You kiss along his jawline and meet his lips again. 

“Cum for me and you can fuck me when you’re healed,” you whisper.

And quicker than you’d expected - he does.

A shaky gasp leaves his lips and without really realising you’re doing it, you pant with him, breathing each other’s air as spurts of warmth coat your fingers. Your hand flexes along his length as you milk every last rope of cum from him and he collapses back onto your fluffy, white pillows.

Grabbing tissues from your bedside table, he lets you clean him up without complaint as he breathes heavily, staring at your ceiling. 

“Better?” You give him a wry smile and he brings his gaze back to you.

“Yeah…” He looks down at his new stitches apprasingly. “I just wish I hadn’t been stabbed.”

“Yeah, well I’m kind of glad you were.”

He laughs so hard that he winces in pain and holds his side again. “Fuck. You’re kind of a freak, you know that, right?”

“Maybe I just like helping injured little things that give me puppy dog eyes.”

Adrian exhales a gentle laugh and fixes his glasses. 

“Did you mean what you said about stitching me up again?”

You meet his green eyes. “Did you mean what you said about fucking me so hard I’d never forget your name again?”

“Uh, yeah? Obviously.”

“Then sure.” You toss the used tissue into the trash can and kiss him again. “Fucking sounds good. Pink lemonade is overhyped, anyway.”

#adrian chase x reader #adrian chase #vigilante #vigilante peacemaker #vigilante x reader #smut #halloween

[pursuitseternal]

“Dark Kissing:” 🫦 nsfw, making a Vampire Bride in “Our Blood is Thicker:”

(Ascended) Astarion x Cordehlia (Tav) | E | 2.6K of the Nsfw Dark Kiss

Art by co-creator and illustrator @marimosalad , NSFW version on X

Summary: Cordehelia rouses herself to feed, but the Dark Kiss is far more dangerous than merely awakening. She must be checked, subdued, brought under control by her love and creator by any means necessary

CW: Rough Sex turns Romantic, blood kink, hair pulling, Feral Vampires getting freaky, The Knee™️, (lovingly) Dom!Ascended Astarion, my interpretation of Van Richten’s “Guide to Vampires” 2e, heartbeat kink, nothing like feral sex followed by soft cuddling aftercare

Previous Ch | ao3 Link | Masterlist

Chapter 19: Dark Kissing…

🫦💞🫦💞🫦💞🫦💞🫦💞🫦💞🫦💞🫦💞🫦

“Astarion…” she purred, voice thickened with his blood, a bit strange on her tongue, as if she savored every letter in his name.

But that strangeness hardly registered, his body winding tight with lust as he looked into her own crimson eyes, as her lips drank him down for the first time. He could feel himself inside her, coursing in her veins, pumping in her whole body, not just that sweet, slick channel he longed to fuck into once more. Something deep inside him unlocked, robust and powerful and all consuming.

Blood ran down her chin, a sight that made his every breath race from his slack-mouthed, fang-licking grin. Her lips were cool on his wrist, warming hotter the more of him she drank. “Oh, my love,” he groaned, slinking to straddle her prone body between his thighs. “I could watch you swallow me down for hours…”

“You have, my love,” she chuckled, thick and deep in her chest as she hardly broke from his flesh.

A flash filled his mind, stronger than their tadpoles, their bodies and minds and souls as one. It was as if he relived every time she had sucked his cock, tasting himself on her tongue, feeling the way her throat closed with all the cum he spewed countless times over countless years. Instantly, his cock strained again against his leathers, that claustrophobic feeling of clothing suffocating his ever-growing desire.

His need to have her.

And yet she drank more. Until his skin began to tear, his head growing slightly light. “Enough, Cordehlia,” he whispered, a grind of his hips above her, his wrist freeing from her mouth.

Only to be ripped back by her fiercely strong grip once more. “But you taste so good, my love,” she crooned, “and I am just so hungry.”

Astarion recalled all that reading, gritting his teeth as he pulled against her, fought against the way both her hands clawed into his arm. “You will listen to me,” he ordered. Louder. “You must stop, or else you will die.”

Her voice made him shiver, unnatural and dark. “I think that’s already happened, hasn’t it?” One last musical laugh from her bloodstained lips, and she sank her newborn fangs into his forearm to feed all the more.

A growl on his lips, Astarion dug deep into whatever new well of power, of strength lay inside him. Never mind the way his heart actually began to rap harder in his chest, in lust and in fear. “You will listen to me, Cordehlia,” he hissed through clenched fangs. Wrestling his arm from her mouth, he felt every muscle in her body move to attack, ready to spring. Wanting more. “Ah, ah,” he smiled, darkly, determinedly. Catching her hands, he pinned them over her head, staying them with all the strength he could find, even as she thrashed and kicked and snapped her teeth. “Little Raven, I promised you I would save you, now you have to trust me just a little further. You are still being remade, turning into something so beautiful, so fierce I can hardly believe it. Why don’t we try a little something else to busy your lips and tongue with, hmm?”

A roar from her mouth, she bucked him off, sending him clean off the bed. Astarion braced himself against the wall, feeling less dizzy and stronger the less she drank. Somehow, his body knew what to do, more than that which was just between lovers. He knew he had to subdue her, keep her safe, lest she endanger herself.

A duck of his head, and he dove out of her tackle. Wild and crazed with bloodlust, she might be, but all that grace was yet to come back to her. He gripped her by the back of her shirt, his fingers easily tearing through that linen, baring her even paler flesh for him to see at last. “Come on, Cordehlia,” he laughed as she turned, eyes narrowed and breasts heaving with her pants, “you used to put up a better fight as a girl.”

Yes…. She took the bait, racing for him blindly, only to be shoved from behind and laid flat out on the floor at the foot of the bed. She froze for that moment, wind knocked out of her, even though her undead lungs required none of that now. He needed to finish this, needed to subdue her in more than one way. His hands ran down her back, lightly tracing over the bumps of her spine. “I’m going to strip you, my darling, going to take your mind off that pit in your stomach. You hunger, and I can sense how painful it is, my love. Let me ease that pain.”

“Want me… to say please?” She panted, breathless as she gasped for air.

“If you’d like, my darling…” he wasted no second of his advantage, shimmying down her trousers, ripping them like paper with such ease in his new and powerful hands.

“Fuck you, Astarion,” she grunted trying to get up, but he just covered her backside with his whole body and grabbed for her hands again to capture them against the floor.

“That is the idea, my love,” he tried to chuckle, the same jibe as they had made many times before. But never like this. Never with every instinct in his ascendant brain screaming at him to claim her and finish the task at hand. He settled heavily on her back, pushing her as hard as he could into the ground to keep her steady, her two cold hands in one of his, he tugged off his shirt and freeded the laces of his breeches.

But for all the pounding drumming in his head that could have blinded him, he looked down at her. Pinned, subdued, ready and panting and sweating.

He didn’t see some creation half-made. Didn’t see a servant or slave for his use.

It was her, addled and unsure and newborn. Lusty and scared. And he tried to slow that reborn and foreign beating in his chest.

“Cordehlia,” he leaned forward, tracing the pad of his tongue up her chilled, pointed ear. “My sweet, I’ve got you.”

Still she fought, twitching and jerking under his hold, but his hands rested on each of hers to slide them next to that mess of fiery red hair. He could see her breathing so hard as her skin pulled between her ribs. She needed calming, claiming… he suckled on that cool right ear, forcing the urge to bite into her flesh again back into his stomach. Something inside her purred, her voice maybe, her soul perhaps. But whatever it was, he did it again. And again. Suckling on the edges of her ear as it twitched. Feeling her flesh mildly warm now with his blood flooding her and her lust taking command.

Her breathing grew softer, steadier and less frantic, he sensed her rising heat, smelled the way slick began to gather between her folds. His cock jolted to feel her begin to buck beneath him, almost grinding against the floor as her hunger traveled below her belly to simmer lower and stronger. Shifting carefully if quickly, his knees spread her wider, his sharp ears hearing her arousal dripping to the wood beneath them.

The way she raised her hips ever so slightly as he slipped between her thighs drew some kind of noise from his throat. Feral. Hungry. He loved it, laying his whole length down to cover her head to toe. Her skin was cold, a strange shiver raced down his spine as he pressed her into the floor. As he pushed her apart, letting his cock slip in so naturally, so slowly, finding that wet and tight warmth he craved more than air.

A low purr seemed to sound from her, her back arching against his chest. She hissed, a little roll of her hips, pleading for more of him. raising herself against him, she wriggled his cock deeper, bracing for his thrusts to begin. “Please, Astarion,” she breathed, voice honey-thick in her throat, “you wouldn’t leave your Bride unsatisfied, would you?”

Bride. At the word, he groaned loudly, fangs wet as he smiled, shoving his cock deeper inside as he buried his face into the crook of her neck. “Never, my darling,” he rasped. Another guttural noise, and he released one hand from hers, wrapping that length of bright fiery hair around his hand once… twice, and yanking her head back slightly. “You are mine forever now, my love until the stars fall down.”

Warm lips pressed against the cool ivory of her neck, careful to keep his teeth covered, lest he stir awake her bloodlust again. But Cordehlia wasted no time, slamming and wriggling her cunt against his cock, easing forward to easy back again.

A hiss rushed from his mouth against her skin each time she dared to move. Finally, he rocked into her ever so slightly, letting his cock sink all the way into her, letting that aching, pulsing head brush against that edge of her channel. Curling, she snapped her hips hard against him, stealing his breath.

Another snap, and he groaned, that insatiable hunger for her growing unbearable. That reality of his freedom, his power starting to course in his veins as she bucked back against him with even more fervor. “You’re an eager little thing,” he sighed, running his tongue over the scars on her neck, taking her ear into the warm, wet of his mouth once more. “I like you this eager,” whispering, he savored the way she shuddered beneath him.

“Then give me some of your own eagerness back, won’t you? I would hate to do all the work for you… my lord…”

Enough of coyness and carefulness he decided as he grasped her head, pulling her mouth to his to assume control. He needed her on his tongue again, needed to devour and consume and dance with her lips as they had a thousand times. “I love you,” his words breathed between her lips as he sucked more of her with each kiss. “I never want to do this with anyone but you ever again.”

A wish he had made once, so long ago under the elven forest and stars.

He could almost smell the woods near their homes, almost hear that babbling stream and feel the moss beneath them as every sinew sought the release they both craved. Thrust after thrust, he could feel her pressure rising, the way her thighs began to shake, her mouth panting and sighing heavily against his open lips. He could taste himself on her tongue yet, that rich iron, that tingling sensation of power, the same that raced down his nerves… and just like that, he knew she was about to seek more of him.

Drink more of him.

A yank of her hair in that fist, and he pulled her off his flesh just as her own razor-fangs snapped shut. “Tch, naughty, my bride,” he teased. A trail of caresses down her spine, and he raised himself. One hand rested on her shoulders, hair tugged just tight enough, he slipped his warming touch around her hips. Her clit was hard, aching and easy to find, and it was so simple to circle it. To make her moan for him, to raise her ass up just that little bit higher and take him all the deeper. To angle himself as he slammed into that spot inside that he knew better than she did herself.

He chewed into his own lip, clenching hard but not to draw blood. No, he needed her sated. Pleasured. Flooded with the bliss they shared now.

Lord and Bride.

Maker and beautiful creation.

Her pleasure tore into him, every muscle that clenched around him pounded as if his own. Her voice cried his name, that she loved him… her sweet words panted over and over again as she crumbled to the floor, boneless, bloodless, hot, and writhing.

Slowly, he pulled out, turning her on her back, longing more than anything to see her smile. Radiant, breathtaking, her breasts heaved as she caught her wind, her hair streaked over her damp and sweating face, and most beautifully, she smiled at him through her bliss. Her little fangs peeked beneath her rosy lips, her tongue wetting her mouth as she pulled those fiery, loose strands from her cheeks and chin.

Reverently, his own hands helped to clear her forehead, strand by precious strand. Laying his body atop hers, a groan slipped from his lips as she raised her hips to slot his cock back into her seeping, wet folds. He breathed her name, believing for the first time that she was with him again, saved.

Now made of one flesh.

Sharing one blood.

A blood that ran hot and thick forever between them.

He couldn’t hold her close enough, couldn’t thrust into her smoothly or deeply enough. He couldn’t taste enough of her on his tongue or feel her slightly chilled breath sweep into his own lung in any amount that would satisfy. His fingers gripped against the back of her head, weaving tightly again into that mess of her locks, the other wrapped firmly around her breast, the hard, cool nipple pressing into his palm like stone as he gripped it, as it swayed in time with his taking of her.

That tether between their bodies, that bond between their minds, something within them snapped taut, his heart beating in her chest, his very essence hers too. Every sensation between their bodies doubled, coursing harder as he drove her to the edge of her climax, thrown there himself as her side. She clawed at his back of ancient scars, body arching and trembling as she groaned her love for him again.

And this time, he followed, pouring every last bit of himself into her, making and remaking her anew. His cock shuddered, jolt after jolt of pleasure bursting from his core into hers. Seed seeped, hot and slick and mixed into one as he lowered himself into her arms.

Nestled into that bloodied crook of her neck, he could do nothing but breathe, forcing his eyes to remain open, to assure himself that this was it. That it was done.

That every little bit of trust she had put in him was replaced tenfold. And would be repaid again for the rest of their immortal lives.

Touch ghosting up and down his back, she smiled against his forehead, lips pressing their strange, cool kiss just beneath the edge of his curls. “I love you…” she whispered, almost imperceptible. Almost inside her own mind.

With a grunt of effort, he slipped from inside her, a tender kiss on her lips before he reached up and over the top of the bed to grab for the blood red covers. The heavy fabric fluttered as he draped it over them both, as his hands tucked it around her shoulders, her back. “I love you, my darling…” he kissed her cheek, “my consort…” he kissed her forehead before staring softly into those searching, crimson eyes, “…my bride.”

Astarion pulled her into his chest, rolling her to rest against his warm flesh and racing heart. “Rest, my love, we have eternity to make up for lost time now.”

His hands traced through the softness of the blanket, and his warmth seeped into her skin. She wouldn’t let it out from her lips just yet, how strange it was now to be the one corpse-cold, to be the lover to seek the warmth of her love. But as she nuzzled closer into that perfect dip in the muscles of his chest, she smiled.

A tear leaked from her eye.

To hear that ancient pattern of his heart beating beneath her ear again.

#astarion x cordehlia #dark kiss #astarion x tav #vampire bride #astarion x female tav #astarion fic #astarion smut #astarion fanfic #astarion fan art #ascended astarion #dom astarion #bg3 fic #bg3 smut #our blood is thicker #astarion bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 #baldur’s gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 astarion #astarion fanart #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion spoilers #bg3 spoilers #baldur’s gate iii #baldursgate3 #baldurs gate smut #baldur’s gate 3 #Cordehlia

[k-n0-x]

༺ ♱✮♱ ¨:·Something Stupid- Chapter 1·:¨ ♱✮♱ ༻

A/N- Hey everyone! I hope you guys are doing well. This story is a longer series of Lucifer Morningstar x reader where you’re Adam’s third wife. This story will have roughly 10 official chapters, but there will be shorter fillers which will be labelled as [previous chapter number].5. 

I also made a playlist in honour of this fanfiction :D

Navigation

Enjoy! <3

꧁🥀☽💫✶♛🦢♕✶💫☾🥀꧂ 

As you use your wings to sweep down to the sultry streets of Hell, you frantically look around for any stray troops, for them to tell you everything. Anything. 

“Where is this gods be darned hotel,” You think to yourself, along with other incoherent and unfinished thoughts.

But it all connects back to one hanging thought in the back of your mind.

Heaven is a Lie.

What happened to all that “Killing is bad” and “Murder is sin” bullshit that they preached?

This is a genocide. 

All of these demons, from young to old, didn’t do anything wrong, (well atleast, not in this moment)

Is it that hard for Adam to see? 

He’s been feeding you these utter lies this entire time? This news was a bombshell on you at the meeting when that lovely young girl, Charlie was pitching her idea.

Speaking of bombs, a piercing and explosive sound emits from the other side of the city.

꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂

As you traverse the debris of the crumbling city, you spot two familiar faces amongst the face of fire.

One of which that you despised ever since that meeting.

Lute.

The other had her back faced towards the lieutenant. Her horns protruded from her scalp and her long blonde hair billowing in the breeze, unaware that Lute was about to strike. 

“LUTE, NO!” You put yourself in the face of the Angelic weapon, your wings disarming the troop general to avoid her striking down Charlie.

“Y/N? What in the actual living fuck are you doing here?” 

“I should be the one asking the questions here,” You point an accusing finger into the general’s chest. 

“Where’s Adam? I need to have a serious discussion with him. If you see any other troops, tell them to stand down,” 

“You’re not my bos-”

“I said. Stand. The. Fuck. Down. NOW!” You stare Lute down, and she glares at you back. 

She doesn’t say anything, but you could see her biting her tongue.

You turn to Charlie.

“Charlie, come on, we gotta go!”

“But, I- I don’t understand, why are you he-”

“Just trust me on this one okay? Go and make sure no one is in imminent danger. I will handle my husband myself,”

The Princess looks up at you, eyes flooded with admiration, trust, and hope as you soar back into action.

꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂

You swoop in and out of  shattered buildings in fruitless attempts to find Adam amidst the screams and battle cries of both Angels and Demons.

“Adam? ADAM?!” You screech into the crimson sultry sky. 

Another explosive pierces through the sky from not far where you were barely a minute ago.

“Ugh, Lute I swear,” You mutter under your breath and your attention is quickly turned to two shadows attacking each other. You look overhead and see two figures; one of them is adorned with a priest’s garments (obviously, Adam), and the other… well…

Does not have a definable shape whatsoever. 

One moment, it has taken the form of a bird, and the next it has the figure of a snake.

One thing never changed though, a sporting white top hat stayed gracefully on his head in each form.

This ever changing specimen seems to be teasing your partner. 

“Adam? Haven’t seen ya since Eden,” He maneuvered between all of Adam’s punches.

“Gotta say, it really seems like you’ve let yourself go,”

Adam scoffs. 

“You, Lucifer, judging me? You’re the most hated being in all of gods be damned creation!”

Ah, that makes much more sense now.

The shape-shifting demon, finally setting on a figure, with a smirk, almost nonchalant expression on his face.

Dodging the First Man’s bolts of angelic power, Lucifer still doesn’t relent with the tomfoolery.

“Well, your first wife didn’t seem to hate what I had to offer,” He places his index and middle gloved digits between his lips and drags them downwards, his snake tongue between them.

Ooof, that’s gotta hurt.

Well it definitely did. On Lucifer’s end that is for sure. One of Adam’s blows finally managed to hit him, knocking him backwards, and inadvertently knocking you out of your trance.

Fuck, you were supposed to be stopping this.

“ADAM!” Your husband turns to face you, looking from the ground, dumbfounded.

“Y/n?! What the actual fuck are you doing down here?”

“Why is everyone asking me that?!” You draw in a breath, irritated.

Just get to the point.

“Tell your little army to stop. Playtime’s over,”

Adam descends down to you, with disagreement written all over his face.

“Nah,” He smirks.

“What the FUCK do you mean ‘Nah?’ What are you, 10?” 

“Yeah, 10 inches deep in you,” 

Your face distorts into a one of disdain. Marrying is probably one of the worst decisions you made.

“You don’t need to make this any harder than it needs to be,” Then it clicked. An utterly vile, but devious idea struck your mind.

“Dear Adam,” you hum, layering on the most seductive voice you can. Both Adam and Lucifer look at you, both confused at your quick change of tone.

Well this is going to be the most embarrassing 30 seconds of your life.

Alas, you carry yourself with a more fluid demeanor, as his eyes follow you. Though as stupid as he is, he isn’t going to fall for your tricks that easily.

You snuggle up to him, your hand gently caressing his upper thigh, reaching right where the source of all manhood was. Stroking not only his dick, but his ego as well, which you were really going for.

You whisper in his ear. 

“Come back home darling~ you need some time to rest, hm?” You let your fingers circle around his tip. “I’ve been waiting for you for a while now~”

He smirks. Bingo. 

“Fine, but I’ll be waiting for you at home, love,” He says with a wild grin.

“Lovely,” you say through smiling teeth.

Though behind that smile, there is absolutely nothing worthy of mentioning.

꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂

“Well, I sincerely apologise for my husband’s behaviour. Honestly, I would have stopped him sooner if I found out,” You bow to the group of demons.

Utter despair is written on the entire group’s faces. 

“What’s the matter? I know your hotel has been blown to bits, but at least everyone here is safe,” your tone is uncertain.

“Right?”

Charlie is the first to pipe up to speak.

“Sir, Pentious- he-,” Her voice cracks.

“Oh honey,” you turn to try and comfort her with your wings, though abruptly interrupted by a threatening cough from Lucifer, who was behind you.

You want to comfort the Princess of Hell, but you decide against it and turn to face the group. 

“I just want to say, before leaving, that I am on your side. I know Heaven is the real enemy and I will try to aid in any possible way, though right now I have to be going,” You look at each demon in turn, Lucifer for last, as he gives you a once over, as though you’ve intrigued him in some way.

“Well, erh, farewell. For now?” You give Charlie a tentative squeeze on the arm, and give Vaggie an acknowledging nod, which was returned.

As you spread your wings and soar back to heaven, you come to the realisation of what you’re gonna have to do when you get home.

Or rather, who…

꧁🥀☽💫✶♛🐣♕✶💫☾🥀꧂

Word count- 1,229

#fanfiction #writers on tumblr #hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #fluff #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #charlie morningstar #angel dust #hazbin hotel lute #angst #lucifer magne #lucifer smut #Spotify

[katbakubae]

Unknowingly Accepted

Merman!Bakugo x F!Reader

NSFW

CW: (eventual smut), language, misunderstood mating rituals, possessiveness, jealousy, (mild) stalking.

No beta, we die like Endeavor's career.

Words: 4k

+PART ONE+ (1/?)

To say you almost had a heart attack was an understatement.

You had been sitting on the dock at your stepfather's beachfront house, your legs dangling over the side and kicking at the water with your feet. What you hadn’t expected was the blonde hair that broke the surface, making you shriek in alarm before your heart calmed slightly...momentarily. At first, you’d wondered what the hell a...handsome young man was doing in the water near your stepfather's house. It was pretty secluded. To your knowledge, there wasn’t another home for a few miles. Did he swim from a nearby home? These questions initially entered your mind as his crimson eyes stared quietly into yours, your mind not processing how strange this was...at first.

Your lips parted to speak, his crimson eyes flashing in interest as his muscular shoulders broke the water the same time his...tail did. All the words died in your throat as you stared in disbelief, blinking rapidly as the brilliant orange and black tail lightly splashed out of the water behind him. It was gorgeous, iridescent and massive.

You couldn’t move – you were in too much shock at what the fuck you were looking at. His handsome head tilted down slightly, his crimson eyes bright and questioning. His sharp, yet handsome face looking just as intrigued by you as you were him – though, he admittedly didn’t look frightened of you. You weren’t sure what expression was on your face, but you highly doubted it looked much different than a deer caught in headlights. His crimson eyes moved down your body, his gaze lingering on your bare legs and feet that were under the water. He was a few feet from you, and when he slowly moved forward, the humongous black and orange tail moving behind him...you regained control of your body.

He was so big. He could pull you under, he could – you gasped and scrambled backwards out of the water, your eyes huge as he paused in his approach. His brows furrowed slightly, as though your behavior perplexed him. He was looking at you as though he’d never seen a person before...but there was zero fear. Then again, why would he be afraid of you? You weren’t exactly threatening.

You’d heard tales of mermen...they were beautiful and deadly. But that’s all it was, wasn’t it? Tales? They couldn’t possibly be true.

You sharply stood, eyes on him as he moved a little taller out of the water in response, revealing a muscular chest. Your breathing was labored as you began backing up, swallowing thickly. He tilted his head a little more, his ash blonde hair cutting across his intense, ruby eyes that never left you.

No words were exchanged as you turned, grabbing the end of your dress and fleeing towards your stepfathers home. When you reached the porch, you paused, gripping the banister and breathing heavily. Part of you wondered if you had hallucinated as you turned, looking in the distance at the dock, only to see the gentle blue waves...no sight of a handsome, blonde man.

((O))

A few days had passed, and you couldn’t get the encounter out of your head. You told no one; you didn’t want them to think you were crazy.

Hell, if you thought too much about it, you thought you were crazy, too.

You had avoided going near the water again by yourself, your eyes constantly searching the water when you were near it. You didn’t see anything again, but in your paranoia...you felt like you were being watched – always. The second you stepped foot outside, that itching feeling of someone’s stare was all over you, making you uncomfortable.

You were warily looking over the water and walking on the dock with your stepfather when you felt a disgusting squish underneath your bare foot. You jumped back, shrieking when you saw a huge, dead fish on the dock. You covered your mouth with a gasp when you saw massive claw marks across its blue scales, obviously killing it.

“Shit, how did that get up on the dock – what the hell killed it?” you stepfather said after running up to you when you shrieked. You covered your cheeks, your stomach rolling in disgust when your stepfather leaned down to pick it up, it’s guts falling on the wood before he tossed it in the water.

“It’s alright, something else will eat it,” your stepfather chuckled, patting you on the back.

You swallowed thickly, wrapping your arms around your torso as he began setting up his fishing pole.

“I…what do you think killed it?” You asked in a high pitched tone, seeing him shrug uninterestedly.

“Could be anything,” he commented, inspecting his line, “ocean is so big that anything could be out there.”

You nodded, looking out over the water with a wary look.

Over the next few weeks, it kept happening. You always seemed to be the one that found the ripped apart, dead fish near the water. Multiple ones kept turning up, and to your horror, they kept getting bigger. You never wanted to go outside again when a medium-sized shark had turned up in your path.

What was worse was that every time you showed your stepfather, he’d shrug it off as though this was normal. You weren’t a marine expert, but you were pretty sure this was weird. You hated it, but your mind kept trailing back to the…merman you thought you saw.

Was he doing this? If he was and he was trying to unnerve you, it was working.Was he trying to frighten you? Why else would he be leaving carcasses everywhere? Of course, you didn’t know it was him, but you began to strongly suspect it.

You were sitting on the sand, rolling a rock in your hand and looking out over the water once again as your stepfather waxed his boat nearby. You sighed at the feeling of being watched, pulling you knees up to your chest and resting your chin on your knee. The sun shined down on the water as you contemplated why you were always out here, looking over the water every time you stepfather came out. Did you want to see him again to prove to yourself it was real?

You sighed, your eyes catching something gleaming at the edge of the shoreline. You paused, lifting your chin from your knees as you slowly stood, walking to the waters edge and crouching down. Sure enough, there was glimmering lights just under the surface, making you hesitate before reaching in the water and grabbing the object. Your heart stuttered when you realized there was a string, and you pulled it from the sand.

Your eyes almost popped out of their sockets when your hand revealed a stunning necklace. It was held together by an intricately braided string, unlike you’d ever seen before. What stunned you was how it was made. There were sea shells and what appeared to be diamonds and serpentine woven throughout the braided chain. You weren’t sure, but they certainly looked like them and you knew both were found in the ocean. The diamonds were cloudy as they were raw, but so gorgeous that they took your breath away. They fit the white of the seashells, and the serpentine added a pop of color.

It was the most unique necklace you’d ever seen. There was a simple tie in the back as you hesitated, then placed it around your neck. You smiled as you fastened it, looking down and running your fingers over the small gems and shells. You heard a small splash and looked up sharply, gasping when you saw a familiar, blonde head near the dock, about twenty feet from you. You stood on the shore, his intense eyes trailing down to your neck, where the necklace rested against your collarbone. For the first time, his neutral expression faded, his smooth cheeks crinkling as he smirked in what appeared to be satisfaction. It made him look more handsome than anyone had a right to.

At that moment, you knew he’d made it and somehow, made it for you. Your fear lessened, but didn’t become totally absent. After all, he was still some kind of sea creature. You glanced over at your oblivious stepfather nearby, noticing his gaze followed yours. His gaze moved back to you when you looked back at him and he tilted his head down as if to say, ‘What are you going to do? Cry for help?’

It absurdly kept your mouth shut as your heart raced in your chest. The sounds of the water and the gulls may have drowned out your words that left your mouth without a thought.

“Thank you.”

To your surprise, you saw his head and shoulders raise in recognition, his massive tail lightly moving the water behind him. It had to be uncomfortable, you thought, to be in the shallow water with a tail like that. It’s clear he’d only came to see you, making your chest squeeze. Every part of you said he was a predator, and you should be wary and worried, but….was he just curious about people? Was the necklace an offering of peace or friendship?

“Honey, could you come help me with this?”

Your stepfathers voice caused you to jump and look over at him as he waved you over. You quickly looked back, frowning when you saw he was gone. Clearly, he didn’t want your stepfather to see him.

You sighed, lightly touching the necklace as you went to help your stepfather.

((O))

“You love swimming, come on!”

It was how you ended up on your stepfathers boat with your mother in the ocean. You supposed that now, you were wary of the water. Not really because of him, but at the same time, it was because of him. Surely, there were others like himself? Mermen?

You wondered what his name was. Did he even have a name? Surely, he did. He didn’t speak and maybe he couldn’t, but his gaze was as intelligent and it was intense. His face was fierce, but incredibly handsome in your opinion. His skin was perfect, and not to mention, his upper body was completely ripped.  

Dear god, were you attracted to a fucking mute fish? 

You needed to get out more.

You were wearing the necklace you suspected he made with your bikini. Absurdly, you told yourself if any other…fish-men saw it, they’d somehow know one of them made it and leave you alone. You hesitated at the side of the boat, looking around the rippling, blue water as though you were going to see a face. It had an eerily resemblance to being too afraid to look out the window at night because you were afraid of seeing a face.

No, you doubted he was here. He went close to the shore when he wanted to see you. You weren’t far out, as the cliffs were nearby. Closing your eyes, you jumped in the water, the coolness rushing over you as you broke the surface, rubbing your eyes and blinking as you watched you legs move, a tad paranoid something was going to touch them.

Your stepfather and mother were drunk, laughing loudly on the boat as they blared classic rock. You rolled your eyes, swimming a bit away from the boat to avoid them. Honestly, you weren’t even sure why they insisted you go. You felt like you were intruding on a date or something. You swam a little further away, sighing to yourself and trying to relax, letting the water lap over your shoulders.

Pain shot fiercely up your leg, making your eyes shoot open before you shrieked and went under the water. Your leg locked up, and it took you but a moment to realize you had a muscle cramp.

Your mind was frantic as you scrambled for the surface, your lungs burning as you prayed your drunk parents would notice. Your vision started blackening when you felt something warm and strong wrap around you and break the surface. You coughed horribly as you felt yourself moving through the water at a fast speed, unable to focus or get your bearings and you choked and gasped. It suddenly stopped and you felt yourself being laid on a hard surface. Your coughing quieted down as your watery eyes tried to focus, making you rub them and blink heavily.

Your spine went rigid when you met a familiar, crimson gaze that was much closer than ever before. His upper body was pulled from the water, his tail still submerged as he leaned on his hands, looking over your body as if to check that you were okay. Your gaze flicked around, realizing he’d taken you to the nearest surface, which was inside one of the caves. Your gaze moved back to him as your heart thundered in your chest. His arms were corded and strong, looking like they should be considered weapons. He had firm pecks and and abs, making your mouth go dry when you saw the black and orange scales begin at his tapered waist, below his belly button. His hands were plastered on the surface next to you, your heart jolting when you saw deadly looking claws. Claws that likely made those fatal gashes in the sea animals left around your stepfathers property…

Your gaze moved up to his face once more, startling you when you saw he was already watching you look him over. It was completely against your will when you felt your face redden, taking notice of his eyes flashing as he clearly saw the change in your skin tone.

He tilted his head, his eyes roving down your body making you blush even more furiously, wrapping your arms around your stomach in embarrassment. Your bikini wasn’t really skimpy, but it still wasn’t a lot of fabric. He suddenly pointed a large, clawed hand at your calf, which was still twitching from the spasm.

“Pain?“

A jolt of surprised went through you as your mouth parted in shock at his deep, gravely voice. He could speak? It was clear that the word was somewhat unsure, and that your language wasn’t his own. But…how did he know? You’d had the feeling he’d understood your thanks, but now, it really seemed as though he had.

“…”

His brows furrowed at your response, or lack of response. His soft-looking lips pressed into a hard line, reaching forward and grabbing your calf, causing you to yelp in alarm. Fear traveled up your spine as you squealed and began to struggle, trying to pull away from his iron grip. He wasn’t hurting you, but the strength you felt in that grip scared you. His claws squeezing into the flesh of your calf.

“No…hurt,” he said in a deep voice, making you go still as you stared at him with wide eyes. His crimson eyes moved back down to your calf, a shiver running across your skin as his cool hands squeezed your muscle, moving up and down your calf with furrowed brows. You couldn’t move, but you felt like he was checking to see if you were injured…what you didn’t expect was the warm tingle that traveled up your leg from his touch, settling in your stomach. You bit your lip, feeling a tad disturbed at your body’s reaction. He was so handsome and strong looking, though.

Jesus, you were trying to justify being a little turned on my a fish?

“Hurt,” he said again, releasing your calf and shaking his blonde head. Clearly, he had deemed you healthy. Part of you wondered if he had just started learning you language a few weeks ago. If so, his understanding was amazing. Just from his gaze alone, you could tell he was very intelligent. However, if he managed to understand and even speak a little bit of your language in that short amount of time…that showed such a high intellect that you couldn’t help but to be impressed. Perhaps mer people were more advanced than humans?

“It was…a muscle cramp,” you said in a low, strained voice, his head tilting and his eyes lighting up at the sound of your voice – as though it made him happy. His face didn’t change, but his ruby eyes were very expressive.

He nodded as though he understood, his eyes moving back down to your legs and cocking his head, looking at your feet curiously. You didn’t move as his hand reached out again, slowly, as though not to alarm you. He ran a clawed finger across your toes, pulling back slightly in alarm when you wiggled your toes in reaction. It was clear that he’d never seen a human this close up before and had clearly never touched one.

Your fear lessened to almost nothing. He was frightening in many ways, but he was also…

Ethereal and beautiful. He had saved you and checked to see if you were injured. If he wanted to harm you, surely, he would have by now? Though he seemed intense and a powerful force to be reckoned with…he didn’t seem like he meant you any harm. Perhaps you were naive for it, but you felt yourself relax.

He was watching you intently again, the only sound in the dark cavern was the trickling of water and your slightly labored breathing.

“What’s your name?” you whispered, watching his eyes go down to the necklace around your throat. His ruby eyes flashing in satisfaction as he looked back up at your eyes. “Do you understand me?” you asked, shifting against the hard rock of the cave and pulling your legs underneath you.

He tilted his head, his eyes searching as he put a clawed hand to his strong chest. “Katsuki,” he said clearly, making your brows raise in surprise that he understood you.

“Katsuki...” you trailed off, jumping slightly when his eyes immediately darkened, a small growl rumbling in his chest and alarming you. You flinched back, causing him to immediately stop and lean a little closer to you.

You looked at him a bit wearily for moments as he waited for you to speak.

You swallowed, putting your hand to your chest. “Y/N,” you said in a soft tone, his upper body angling towards you a little more, his tail making a small wave behind him....as though you telling him your name really pleased him.

He paused, his eyes searching your face before turning and diving into the water quickly. You yelped in alarm, scrambling to the edge to look down into the dark water a bit frantically. Why did he just leave?

You looked around the cave, your shoulders hunching as you became aware of how dark and...creepy it was in here. You could swim back to the boat – did they seriously not notice you were gone?

My god. What if your leg cramped up again? Great, now you were traumatized.

Right as you really started to panic, he broke the surface of the water, shaking his hair out. To your amusement, it went right back to his spiky look as though it wasn’t just soaked. You couldn’t help it when a giggle left your lips, his crimson eyes snapping to you, his nostrils flaring slightly as he pulled his hand from the water, flinging a large, green fish on the rock in front of you. You jumped, gasping as you saw the familiar claw marks on the side of the dead fish, your eyes going wide.

“It was you!” You gasped as his brows raised for a moment, a smile curling his lips. Your heart jumped when you noticed his perfect teeth also had fangs – two sharp canines. “Why did you leave me dead fish?” You asked, tilting your head.

His eyes squinted for a moment, as though he was trying to process how to answer your question. “Hmm…showing interest,” he answered, his eyes gleaming as your face reddened.

Surely, he didn’t mean…

“What do you mean?” You squeaked, staring at him in disbelief as his lips curled in what appeared to be frustration, huffing through his nose.

“Interest…in mating,” he emphasized, your jaw going slack in shock as his eyes moved down to the necklace. “Accepted.” He added, nodding towards the necklace that adorned your throat.

You were reeling in shock. You’d accepted his advances by wearing the necklace he’d made? How was that fair? Surely, he knew that you didn’t know what it would mean.

He huffed, picking up the fish and holding it out to you. You recoiled, your stomach turning at the bleeding body. “Eat. Hungry,” he said, looking determined to make you eat this raw fish. You shook your head imploringly, covering your mouth and attempting to wave it away.

“Y/N!”

You jumped at the sound of your stepfathers voice. Katsuki snarled loudly at the sudden noise, turning around sharply and blocking your view with his large body protectively at the perceived threat to you.

“It’s okay!” You exclaimed, “It's my stepfather.”

His strong shoulders relaxed slightly as he turned to look towards you again. It must be your imagination, but you could have swore a sad look crossed his intense face for a moment. It was almost as if he was sad your time together was over.

“I have to…” you trailed off, sliding your legs in the water next to him as he nodded in understanding. You tensed up when he immediately moved in front of you, his large, strong hands wrapping around your waist. Your breath left you in a rush when he strongly lifted you off the rock, slowly lowering you in the water and supporting all your weight.

“Oh…” you breathed as he towered over you, coming much closer. He was huge as you stared up at him with wide eyes. “I-I…” words failed you as his hands tightened on your waist, his gaze becoming hooded. Your breath was shallow as a soft scent entered your nose. It smelt like the ocean, but it was almost sweet, like caramel.  It was crippling, and you found yourself unable to move or even think as his eyes fluttered closed, tilting his head down. You didn’t even think of stopping him as your own eyes fluttered shut.

The feel of soft press of his lips was unexpected, as was the feel of adrenaline that suddenly started pumping through your veins. Excitement rushed through you as you curled a hand in his damp, blonde hair that was surprisingly soft. He growled in your mouth, and you felt a hand on your waist curl to your lower back, pulling you flush against his hard body.

You weren’t doing this. You weren’t letting a merman kiss you in a creepy ass cave.

His body felt slightly cooler than your overheated one, his tongue sliding smoothly across your lip as though he knew you, as though he knew exactly how to kiss you. Every stroke of his lips and tongue was perfection, making you tremble against his strong body and try to grapple with your sanity as you tugged his hair, trying to somehow pull him closer.

Like him, his kiss was intense and all consuming – as though he was making damn sure you didn’t go home and forget him. It was almost like he was claiming you and reminding you that you belonged to him.

You weren’t sure what was happening, but you continued moving your lips against his, gasping in his mouth and pressing against his hard chest. You breathed heavily when he broke from your swollen lips, moving his hungrily down your neck. Your breath caught as he nudged the necklace with his nose, a low growl sounding in his chest. He nipped your neck with his teeth, a deep, husky word leaving his lips.

“Mine.”

You swore you felt some kind of bulge against your abdomen, confusing you for moments under all your lust as you gripped his hair. He ran his tongue up your neck, tasting your skin possessively.

“Y/N!”

Your stepfathers voice sounded closer now as you looked towards the entrance of the cave, seeing shadows.

Katsuki pulled away from your neck, and you took notice that his breathing seemed a little strained, and his jaw was tight.

It was clear that he didn’t want to let you go.

His nostrils flared with a huff, his bright, red eyes staring into yours.

“Soon,” he whispered in a low voice, his hand running up your bare back, his fingers toying with the strap of your bikini top as his expression turned serious. “I will watch – keep you safe,” he said slowly, making your heart punch your rib cage. His fingers came up to your collarbone, running them across the necklace with a satisfied look on his face. Your breathing was shallow as he lightly ran them down to your cleavage, a shiver running down your spine when he traced his fingers across the tops of your breasts. He looked hungry, like you were a present he couldn’t wait to unwrap.

A devious smile curled his lips, his fangs gleaming as he looked rather pleased with himself at your flustered appearance. He glanced back towards the entrance, seeing flashlights as he looked back at you once more, his eyes lingering on your face before he dove into the water. You barely saw the end of his tail, the orange and black a mere flash since he was so quick.

“Y/N!” Your stepfathers voice called again.

You sighed, trying to catch your breath. “I’M HERE!” You forced yourself to call out, your mind spinning and unable to process the fact that maybe, just maybe…you’d unwittingly bound yourself to an intense, admittedly handsome…merman.

#bnha #boku no hero acedamia #mha #bakugo #bnha bakugou #bakugou #bakugo katuski x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #mha bakugou #merman!bakugo

[sorrowsofsilence]

Burning Out • 1

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

I was lost, but now I'm found Under the lights and in the sounds So let us sing and sing it loud That we're not perfect, but we're proud of who we are.

Noah Sebastian is lost. His crime-filled lifestyle is anything but perfect; but everything changes once he meets you.

Words: 7.3K

Warnings: 18+, explicit language, Alcohol consumption, devils lettuce consumption, violence, mentions of murder, panic attacks/ anxiety

Authors note: Chapter One: The Apparition - This story was a request by an anon! I hope you enjoy my interpretation of the prompt (prompt is here). I am excited to see where this goes! Let me know any thoughts, and if you’d like to be tagged leave a comment :3 (ps. Listen to the apparition by sleep token hehe)

THIS IS A FANFICTION USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THESE PEOPLE WOULD DO THE THINGS IN THE STORY OR ACT THE WAY THEY DO IN THE STORY IN REAL LIFE! IT IS FICTION! IT IS JUST FOR FUN! &lt;;3

Tags: @crimson-calligraphyx @lma1986 @spicywhenspeaking

NOAH

The world was always in a state of grey, the life of the concrete jungle persistently sucking out the souls of its inhabitants with every passing second. Destruction. Crime. Greed. A shattering abyss of capitalism and corruption.

Yet, within this lifetime, I don’t think I was meant to be the good guy either.

Perhaps there was a chance for me, someday or somehow within another universe.

For now, the only thing I could think about was how my heart pounded as the gun sat between my fingers, threatening the innocent ahead. Destruction, Crime, Greed.

“Noah, let’s go,” Ruffilo pulled at my wrist in desperation. My arm remained still, resisting his force.

The woman’s eyes watched me in horror, tears brimming as her back hit the brick wall behind her, arms wrapping protectively around her body in defeat.

My heart raced, and I stood frozen in place.

“I won’t say anything I swear,” She pleaded, lips trembling, saliva foaming from her mouth as she was too afraid to swallow.

I don’t want to do this, but I fucked up.

“Noah,” Ruffilo said through gritted teeth, “We need to go,” he placed a hand on top of my gloved one, in another attempt to have me lower the bad decision.

I closed my eyes, squeezing them shut in contemplation as my chest heaved, the voice of rationality fighting against the voice of destruction.

I’ll be even more of a fuck up if she rats on us.

You’ve never been able to kill anyone before you moron, why do you think this time will be any different?

My eyes snapped open, leathered finger dancing along the trigger as I stared at her. My teeth barred through chapped lips, a snarl of frustration crawling from my throat. The woman's eyes turned away in fear as if watching her own demise would kill her. Ironic.

Seeing her in complete terror left me broken. Is this who I am? I am nothing more.

The next thirty seconds passed as though I was walking through molasses, my thoughts battling contradictions before I audibly screamed in frustration, shoving the gun back into my pocket as Nicholas and I ran towards the van.

“Fuck!” I yelled, slamming the car door as forceful as possible. The tires squealed in place, burning out as Jolly’s foot pounded onto the gas pedal.

I ripped off my ski mask, throwing it angrily onto the floor of the vehicle.

“You should’ve just left her Noah. Now if they find us we could be charged with assault with a weapon.” The deep Swedish accent was the last thing I wanted to hear. He eyed me sternly in the rearview mirror. I lingered on his gaze for a moment before turning my head towards the window.

“Oh Fuck off Jolly,” I sighed angrily, closing my eyes as my breathing quickened, the anxiety beginning to set in. The pounding of my heart began to vibrate along my entire chest, and my leg bounced in anticipation, waiting for the panic to subside.

I kept justifying to myself that we’re all dead anyway, so what’s the difference between a God and a loaded gun?

+++++

Y/N

Wrapping the grey apron around my waist, I clocked into work and tightened my low bun, tucking the loose strands of my H/C bangs behind my ear. Another shift, another day that felt wasted away, confiding into the capitalist abyss. 

Overall, I enjoyed my new job working in the coffee shop. The city was busy, something I definitely wasn’t used to, but the cafe was a comforting environment filled with tasty pastries, and an unlimited amount of caffeine to fulfill any heart's desire.

I did appreciate having a solid routine, and a stable job that paid me well, however, I envied those with freedom. Those with spontaneous adventures and the ability to travel; those who got to spend their days making memories. You never know when a day is going to be your last; and at this rate, my soul was going to linger within this fucking place forever. 

I sighed as I checked on the coffee pots, organizing them before neaty lining the glass display with more cakes and croissants. Stocking up the cups and lids, I hummed to myself, letting my mind wander into my corporate daydream distractions.

Why are you never real?

Whenever you appear

You leave me with that grace

I am trembling with fear

But I know that you will disappear

“How’s it going Y/N?” My coworker asked, smiling, pulling me out of my trance.

Annika; I have grown quite fond of her, even though I’ve only known her a week.

“Good,” I smiled, pulling a sanitized cloth out of a bucket and wiping down the counters, “yourself?”

“Oh you know, same old same old.” She said, sighing with a sad smile. I matched her as we shared a moment of familiarity, before concentrating again on wiping the surface, the cold cloth running along the faux marble. 

The seating area was already busy; friends chatting, students studying, and business meetings occurring. I enjoyed watching the bustle of life that everyone brought inside. I smiled as I watched our regular elderly couple I’ve seen each morning this week wave goodbye.

“See you Lauren, bye Ray,” I gave them a nod, before wandering over to empty tables, giving them a wipe. The door dinged as more people came in, but I didn’t bother glancing up, letting myself work. 

I hummed again, singing ever so quietly as I walked back to the counter and began to daydream, thinking of things I’d love to write about, and places I’d love to go. It’s only been three weeks since I left my old life behind, and this was just the beginning of my freedom.

So let's make trouble in the dream world

Hijack heaven with another memory now

I make the most of the turning tide

It just split what's left of the burning silence

“Sleep token?” a man's voice asked, pulling me out of my trance. 

My head immediately spiralled, flushing with embarrassment as I realized Annika was off helping someone else, and I completely ignored the customer in front of me.

“Oh- sorry.” I avoided eye contact, throwing the cloth back into the bucket and scrambling my way back to the till.

“What can I get for you?” I asked as I stared at the buttons in front, preparing myself to hit stay or go, before looking up at the man in front of me. As soon as I met his deep brown eyes, I was lost in a certain intensity, the mysterious depths beckoning me towards him.

My lips parted as I stared at him, my cheeks immediately warming from infatuation. His chocolate eyes were paired with a head of long brunette hair that flowed in all the right places, just below his collarbone. A variety of coloured tattoos covered his arms and neck, and when he smiled, I just about felt weak in the knees; the crinkle of his eyes and the fold of his smile lines left me captivated. However, another story lingered behind his gaze, my mind trying to peel the layers to reveal whatever it may be.

He too watched my face, eyes trailing over every detail as a light tint of blush trailed down his ears to the top of his cheekbones.

“Uh- is it to stay? Or to go?” I stuttered as I looked away, realizing I was staring for too long. My ears felt hot and I eyed the counter intensely, as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. 

“To go please,” he said; and my god his voice, the slight Virginian accent that danced off his tongue held me in a chokehold. 

“What could I get for you today?” I asked, glancing up shyly. I've met plenty of attractive customers in my years of retail and serving, but I never had anyone caught my eye the way he did. The unknown puzzle he appeared to be was leaving me captivated.

“I'd like a coffee please, black?” he said slowly, as if it was a question.

I let out a small laugh, “Did you want cream or sugar? Or we have a variety of syrups-” I watched as he smiled, before shaking his head, eyes remaining fixated.

“No, just black is okay…” he said. Something about his October eyes tantalized me, pulling me towards him as if invisible strings were being woven between us as the seconds ticked by. His body was a magnet, and I was being tugged. 

“Sure thing,” I nodded, averting my eyes from his gaze in embarrassment, “that's everything for you?”

“Uh, yeah,” he said, fiddling with his wallet before pulling out cash. 

“Can I grab a name?” I asked shyly, looking back at him again, my eyes searching his entire face for answers as if his name would reveal all the mysteries he was hiding.

I extended my hand to grab his money, and he hesitated for a moment as if scared to touch me. He placed the bill gently in my palm, the tip of his tattooed fingers brushing across my skin. My hand burned as butterflies churned in my stomach.

“Noah,“ he said, giving a slight nod and tight smile.

“Noah,” I echoed, giving him his change, the cool silver coin radiating the heat off of his palm.

“I’ll have that ready for you shortly,” I smiled up at him, and he returned it, stepping back with his hands in his pockets. With shaky hands, I turned around and walked to the coffee pot, grabbing a cup and filling it with a warm drink.

Annika slithered next to me, bumping my shoulder gently, “That’s Noah, a regular. He hasn’t been here in a while, but he’s always so glum.”

I looked at her, nodding slowly, unsure what to say.

“He also always grabs cream and sugar, so I’m surprised he’s changing it up.” Annika turned around, eying the boy for a moment before leaning into me again, “must be because he’s so distracted, checking you out.”

Blush tinted my cheeks as I scoffed, “Yeah, sure.” I exhaled with doubt but took a quick glance at the brunette. Sure enough, he was watching from behind the counter, averting his eyes as soon as we made contact. 

“You should give him your number, maybe that’ll cheer him up,” Annika whispered, giving me a wink before walking away to help another customer.

I laughed lowly as I put on the lid, sliding a sleeve up the cup. Grabbing the sharpie I opened it, and my fingers hesitated- what if I did?

I shook my head gently, shaking away the thought before scribbling Noah’s name across the top of the lid.

“Noah,” I said, his name passed off my lips as if he breathed it from me. 

His inked fingers wrapped around the cup, “You were singing the apparition earlier,” He said, and I watched him curiously, “fascinating, the line about the past.”

Every word felt like it was being taken from my body as we watched each other. Both of us seemed to hesitate, waiting for the other to say something.

He spoke first, eyes gazing upon me for a moment as he turned towards the door, “I’ve never seen you before, you must be new around here.”

I wanted to respond, but I felt frozen; so I watched every step he took towards the door, the black hoodie he wore lingering in my memory. 

“Welcome to the neighborhood, Have a good day,” He nodded, before walking through the door, the bell signalling his dismissal as he left.

Well, I believe,

Somewhere in the past,

Something was between,

You and I, My dear

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding in. Perhaps it was infatuation or complete adoration; but regardless my heart yearned, regretting the way I held myself. Thoughts churned throughout my mind as I replayed the way he looked at me. I don’t think I've ever been looked at with so much intensity. 

Fuck, why didn’t I get his number? I internally groaned, scolding myself, turning around to fix another pot of coffee. A few minutes went by as my mind raced with thoughts before I heard the door open again.

I instantly turned around, surprised to see the same long-haired brunette standing at the till once again, his locks tousled messily, but still cascading down to his collar bones elegantly.

“Hi,” He said, out of breath, as if he had been running. With parted lips and quick exhales, he smiled. 

“Hi,” I said confused, my heart picking up pace once again.

“I think, I forgot cream and sugar,” He said, holding out the cup. His fingers shook as his cheek blushed. 

My head tilted slightly as he eyed me, and I grabbed the cup from him gently, “How many of each would you like?”

“One and one.” He smiled, face flushed.

I felt my breath hitch in my throat as I turned around to pour the sugar and cream, mixing it in his still-hot coffee.

“One cream and one sugar,” I watched as our hands touched as we passed the beverage, fingers grazing, tingles sparking through my appendages.

Noah looked at me, our eyes searching each other for any other form of communication, but he spoke first, the question bluntly leaving his mouth, “Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?”

I gave him a dumbfounded look, eyebrows turned inwards in shock. My lips slowly upturned into a smile of disbelief, his questions catching me completely off guard. I tilted my head to look at him as a laugh escaped me, and he too joined in, his own laugh shy and reclused.

“I- I think you should walk by again,” I watched him, coming up with a quick witty response, “But only so I can get another look as to what you’d look like walking towards me on a date.” 

I cringed at my own words, laughing, and Noah’s smile widened at the banter.

“So, I’ve gathered that we are both really terrible at flirting,” He said, taking a sip of his coffee and licking his lips once he pulled the cup away.

I hummed in agreement, “I think that can be a safe deduction from this one-minute conversation,” my eyes following his fingers that now ran through his long chestnut hair, eyes trailing over the flower on the back of his hand, “maybe, you’d like to see how bad a longer conversation could be?” 

Noah’s eyes twinkled with curiosity, giving me a look, “Do you want to risk it all right now?”

I smiled as my heart began to race, the glint in his eyes only excited me more. I grabbed the sharpie that was initially filled with regret earlier, wrote my number on top of a napkin, and handed it to him. “I’m off at 5, and I don’t work my next job till 9”

Noah licked his lips again, “I’ll see you then.”

---

I stood outside the coffee shop with my earbuds in, awaiting my bad decision. Pulling my hair out of my bun, I attempted to run my fingers through my hair to make it look even a little flattering. Would he show up? Was I delusional? Was this whole idea absolutely insane? Who does this with a complete stranger?

“Hey.”

I recognized the upbeat of his voice, and my ears immediately shifted colours. I pulled out an earphone as he strode towards me, hands shoved in his hoodie pocket. The way his hair flew behind his shoulders left me watching him in complete adoration. He was beautiful. 

“Let me guess,” Noah bit the inside of his cheek as he approached me, “Same song?”

Don’t wait, ‘cause this could be the last time

You turn up in the reveries of my mind

I wake up to a suicide frenzy

Loaded dreams still leave me empty

“Possibly,” I smiled.

“I think you’d really like this song by Deftones,” He began as we started walking down the street aimlessly without a plan.

“Can I guess?” I asked, looking up at him. Noah towered over me, inches above in height. I felt so small against his frame, despite his own lanky figure, and my heart began to race at our proximity. Every step he took it felt like I had to take three, his Dior cologne radiating through my senses.

Why are you never real?

The shifting states you follow me through

Unrevealed

Just let me go or take me with you

“Is it sex tape?” I asked, and Noah gave me a toothy grin, clearly impressed.

“I don’t know how you guessed the exact song,” He said, squinting at me quizzically.

“What can I say,” I shrugged, “Good at reading pretty boys’ minds. Plus, it’s a good song, similar vibe.” 

He eyed me playfully as we stopped at the crosswalk, “So you think I’m pretty?”

I watched the other side of the street, smiling as I faced forward and hummed, “Well, I don’t think I’d spontaneously go out with just anyone.”

He turned to face me, looking down at me with amusement. “Fair enough.”

“For the record, 100 percent my type,” I said, looking at him through my lashes.

Noah’s face flushed again, “What is that type? Just so I can scope them out for you, ya know?”

I thought a moment, chewing on my lip, “Oh you know, hot long-haired brunettes, brown eyes,” my eyes trailed down his body to scope his hands, before trailing back up to see the snake poking above his hoodie collar, “with tattoos,in a variety of places.”

“Well,” Noah’s cheeks tinted deeper, “I do have tattoos all over my body if you ever feel the need to explore them all.”

I laughed, watching him. We stared at each other for a moment longer, my heart pounding, as his eyes devoured me before the beeping of the sidewalk timer pulled my attention away from him.

“This is probably the weirdest thing I’ve ever done,” I confessed and shook my head as I laughed in disbelief.

“What?” Noah asked, hands in his jeans pockets as he gazed between me and the path ahead.

“Going out with someone I know nothing about,” I began, “for all I know you could be a serial killer,” I teased.

Noah chuckled, “Fair. I suppose this was the last thing I thought I’d be doing this fine Tuesday evening- but I do find a dash of danger titillating.” 

I smiled widely, “so, you’re not a serial killer?”

“Not that I’m aware of, I can’t say it’s something I would get much from,” Noah laughed, but I noticed he looked away, eyes becoming distant.

“So who are you then?” I asked, Noah and I follow each other down the park path towards the neighbourhood. I pulled out my earbuds, shoving them back into my pocket. The wind was picking up slightly, causing me to shiver and pull my sleeves over my hands, fingers intertwining together in my hoodie pouch. We were walking along a path by the inner city river, the leaves of the birch trees swaying as they danced along to nature’s beat.

As I strolled next to Noah I felt an odd sense of comfort, despite knowing absolutely nothing about the man beside me. I watched him, his hair flying behind him, his eyes squinting through the wind.

“I don’t really know who I am,” He said, staring out at the water. The river flowed rapidly, the water washing over the memories of the city, carrying them through the ground in a prophesied path. I walked along with him quietly, waiting for Noah to continue speaking.

“I’m just a lost soul, I guess,” He spoke softly, eyes glazing over slightly as his mind pulled him inwards.

I nodded in understanding, “I suppose that I am too.”

Noah chuckled lowly, “Nah, there’s much more to your story,” he pried, pulling himself out of his trance.

“I mean, of course. Everyone has a past,” I looked at him curiously.

“What’s yours?” Noah watched me intently, pulling his hoodie over his head in an attempt to block the wind from blowing his hair into his face, “You’re not from around here.”

“How do you know?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Accent,” He said, “And I’ve never seen you around. I know these parts pretty well.”

“Hm. Fair enough.” I nodded, smiling, “I just moved here, from Canada.”

“To the shit hole city of Los Angeles?” Noah scoffed, surprised, “You had the whole world, and you chose LA?”

“City of dreams, they say,” I shrugged, my gaze falling upon the leaves again, “and I needed to get as far as I could.”

Noah was quiet for a moment, pondering. We walked in silence again, heading towards the houses.

“Running from something?” He asked, barely forming a whisper. Noah’s eyes met mine as they searched for an answer, attempting to read through me.

I sighed, tilting my head to give him a small smile, “Always.”

“Who?” Noah asked after another pause, sitting forward in interest.

“Ghosts and demons,” I laughed, lightening the mood, “Oh, and people too.”

We laughed together, our voices creating a harmony that I wanted to listen to forever.

“I left behind everything—everything I ever knew,” I began, turning to avoid Noah’s eyes.

“My parents were murdered,” I said. I expected him to immediately bombard me with apologies, as people always did when dropping a bomb like that; but he was silent, letting me continue. “I was thirteen. Lived in and out of different foster care homes- no one wants to ever take in a teenager.”

Noah hummed, prompting me to continue. We walked down the sidewalk along the street of houses; nearing my own. Staring at it as we walked by, I turned my attention forward.

“Unfortunately got in with the wrong crowd and some really bad people who only loved and wanted me when I could provide them with things.” I stifled a laugh, suddenly feeling insecure and small, “Basically I worked my ass off to get out, and I’ve finally made it and bought my own place.”

I looked over at him now, giving him a smile, “So still running, but a lot closer to my destination.” I felt an immense amount of appreciation for his ability to listen.

Noah smiled back, giving me a knowing glance; almost as if he understood. Turning his attention toward the houses he scanned them, watching each one intensely as we walked by.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I just trauma-dumped on a stranger,” I gave an uncomfortable chuckle.

“Nah, we aren’t strangers now,” He said, “Definitely more like acquaintances.”

I smiled at his reassurance, “And you? You’re quite mysterious.”

Noah was quiet, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration and thought as we enjoyed each other’s company, his eyes darting rapidly over the grass as if he were filtering through memories. I watched his lip run between his teeth before he turned to me, giving me a curt smile.

“I’m just Noah,” He said; but as I stared into his eyes, devouring his soul, I saw that he was much more than that.

+++++

NOAH

“Where the fuck were you?” Jolly yelled, “We’ve been waiting for hours.”

I slammed the motel door, the place we called home, glaring at him, “nowhere mom, it's not like you need to know.”

“You’re right,” Jolly said, stepping forward, pushing himself towards me so our chests were almost touching.

“I don’t give a fuck what you were doing, who you were doing, or whatever- But you know what time you need to be back, and you’re late.” Jolly’s finger pressed into my chest as he scolded me. We stared at each other, eye to eye, his gaze furious. I pushed against his chest, making space between us as I furrowed my brows.

“Whatever, sorry, I got carried away,” I mumbled, throwing myself onto the cot that rested on the floor I sighed, my cheek smashing into the musky-scented pillow. Staring at the 80’s retro carpet splayed on the floor, I analyzed the faint outline of the blood stain left by Ruffilo last week when he cut his knee open from a previous job.

“It’s your turn, Noah.” Nick Folio slapped the backpack onto the table as he sat back in the chair, crossing his legs on top of the wooden surface. The joint was lit between his lips as the smoke trailed through his teeth.

“I fucking hate doing this shit,” I protested, shaking my head as I rolled onto my back, letting myself close my eyes momentarily. Ruffilo tossed me my gloves and mask, the fabric hitting my chest. I groaned angrily as I sat up. I pulled the black leather gloves over my fingers to cover my tattoos. Standing up I shoved the black ski mask into my hoodie pocket, before throwing my phone into my cargo pants.

“Just this one for the week brother. Then you don’t need to worry about it till next week.” Nicholas Ruffilo said, smiling at me gently. He knew I hated this. He knew I wanted it to stop.

“How many more fucking weeks, huh? It’s been years. I’m sick of this shit.” I snapped, and Nicholas, being the glue of this group, placed his hands on my shoulders.

“I know,” he said, watching me cautiously.

A bitter laugh escaped Jolly’s lips, “What else are we going to do Noah? Magically pull a million bucks out of our asses?”

I loved Jolly, I really did. He was my oldest brother for as long as I can remember- but fuck, did I ever want to punch his face into the wall sometimes.

Jolly sat back in the wooden chair next to Folio, “You know the drill. It’s nothing new. We do what we gotta do to survive; how else are we going to pay back D?”

I shrugged Nicholas’ hand off my shoulder, muttering to myself in annoyance as I grabbed my combat boots, kicking my black vans underneath the cot. I tied up the laces, knotting together the memories of previous jobs, the back of my mind replaying years of regret.

Cracking open a beer, Jolly took a swig before mumbling, “Don’t forget you’re the whole reason we are in this mess in the first place.”

My head snapped up immediately, eyes locking onto his, ears burning a deep red as my face heated, “Yeah? Why don’t you say that again you fucking prick?”

Jolly raised his voice, sitting forward in the chair, elbows resting on his knees as he leered into me, “I’m sick and tired of hearing it, Noah. Do you think we enjoy doing this too? Do you think we want this? Don’t complain about the work when you fucked us over first.”

My chest heaved as I grew irritated, eyes glaring as his words stabbed me, “I was fourteen!” I shouted, spit flying from my mouth, “I wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t told me to in the first place!”

Nicholas reached for me again, pushing against my chest to hold me back. I aggressively hit his hand away, grabbing my backpack vigorously and throwing it over my shoulder.

“I didn’t tell you to do anything,” Jolly growled, watching me as my fists clenched, muscles tightening.

“You’re the one I’m supposed to look up to!” I yelled.

“It’s not my fault your parents died,” Jolly said, and both Nicks immediately turned to look at him, eyebrows furrowed in disappointment.

“Don’t you fucking bring them into this!”I screamed, seething, ready to lunge at the long-chestnut-haired man in front of me. Nicholas wrapped his arms around my chest, pulling me away. I squirmed against him, closing my eyes in anger as I fought the tears that brimmed them.

An hour ago I was sitting with one of the most beautiful humans I had ever laid my eyes on. I’ve never done anything as risky as spending time with someone I just met, especially someone like Y/N. She seemed so brave, so gentle… so worthy. How someone could captivate me within mere moments, left me baffled. I knew I was in complete infatuation, and I already felt myself craving to see her again. I have gotten a coffee from that cafe almost every day for a year; it’s the only stable part of my routine. Everything was always the same. The coffee, the customers, the servers, everything. Everything but Y/N. Seeing her threw me off, not necessarily in a bad way, but in a way that felt like she was placed there as if maybe she was just for me. She seemed like a breath of fresh air in my stale, grey, lifeless world. Something about the way she spoke, how she seemed so mysterious, her wit and her beautiful fucking eyes.

Now here I was, being reminded that I was unworthy of anyone.

“Do you know where you’re going to go?” Nick asked me, pulling me from my thoughts. He handed me the joint, a way to divert from the tension,

I nodded, “I walked around a neighbourhood I’ve been eying lately, the one close to the coffee shop.” Wrapping my lips around the joint I inhaled, letting the smoke fill my throat and lungs. I coughed as I handed it back to Folio.

“Don’t you think that area is a little risky?” Nicholas said, raising a brow, “we spend enough time around there.”

I shrugged, “I scoped some places earlier. Close together and tight nit. Enough places to hide. Seems like most of the owners are elderly, it's an old neighbourhood.”

Nick took a final puff of the joint, before blowing out the smoke through open lips, placing the bud in the tray beside him, “Elderly is good. Lots of nice shit; if you sort through the useless junk. Bring the gun for the scare factor.”

“Yeah, I was planning on it,” I said as Nick held out the weapon, my finger grazing across the metal. Even through the glove, I felt its cool, metallic texture, my mind jumping back to the woman held before it earlier.

What am I even doing?

Shoving the gun into my waistband I opened the motel door, “See you guys later.” I nodded to each of them, eyes lingering on Jolly for a moment longer.

“Text if you need anything,” Jolly said through gritted teeth, taking another sip of his beer, and avoiding my gaze.

I walked down the wooden stairs, passing the rundown vinyl wall that lined the entire building. As I passed the paint-peeled doors listening to various arguments, and the sounds of sex. The scent of weed and stale alcohol lingered on the cement, decades of grime living within the premises, never fully washing away. As pathetic as it was, it smelled and sounded like home. It was all I had.

I pulled my hood over my head, letting my hair cascade as a shield around my face, my legs carrying me through the neighbourhood. It was 12:30 am, the nightlife bare as only a few cars passed by me, unaware of my felonies.

I wasn’t sure which house would be my victim tonight, but I prayed, to whoever God was, that it would be quick. Get in get out.

I placed an earpod in my ear, scrolling through songs, before choosing The Apparition. Perhaps, if this is all a dream, I can go back to the time I met her. As they say, ignorance is bliss; and I was tired of consciousness.

And it remains With me to this day No matter what I do This scar will never fade

+++++

Y/N

I clocked out of work, sighing through the exhaustion of my 12-hour day. Thankfully my bar shift was only four hours, but I was tired regardless, knowing I had about 8 hours till I had to be back at the cafe, to do it all over again. I reapplied my red lipstick in an attempt to hydrate my lips, the crisp 1 am air biting at my cheeks. Thankfully home was only a ten-minute walk away, and the only motivation carrying me was that my warm, comfortable bed was waiting for me; and my cat.

I also couldn’t help but still feel giddy about meeting Noah earlier today. My heart yearned as I reminisced about his smile and mysterious aura. My stomach churned with butterflies from the exhilaration. Was this just a one-time thing? Never in a million years would I have thought I’d go on a ‘date’ with someone I just met; but It’s not like I do much other than work. My life needed that little bit of excitement.

I sang to myself, letting the incitement of possibly receiving a text from him in the morning carry me through the dread of working tomorrow. I let my thoughts wander to ridiculous daydreams as I reached the front door of my townhouse. I put the key in, twisting it; realizing I locked the door.

Shit, did I leave it unlocked this morning? I know I was tired…but I’m pretty good at remembering that.

With furrowed brows I opened the door, closing it and double checking it was locked. My orange cat, Juice, was not sitting by the door in his usual spot. Every time he heard the door he was always right there, waiting. None of the lights were on, which usually never worried me; but I knew that I kept the living room lamp on so it wouldn’t be dark when I got home. Maybe the power went out.

“Juice?” I called out, my stomach beginning to churn with a dreadful feeling. Something wasn’t right. The house was eerily silent as I walked quietly toward the kitchen.

“Juju baby? Where are you?” I yelled, turning on the kitchen light. I placed my bag on the counter, listening intensely for his meow.

The floor creaked above me in what sounded like a pattern of footsteps, and I froze in place. That was too loud to be a cat.

There was rustling above the stairs and my breath hitched in my throat as my heart raced. I felt my pulse radiate through my ears as I reached for the biggest kitchen knife from the block. The adrenaline rushed through me as I slinked towards the stairs from the kitchen.

I peered up the stairs into the darkness, the only source of light coming from the windows, illuminating the crevasses of the doors upstairs. Another creek sounded and I watched the shadow dance along the wall as the door to my bedroom opened. With shallow breaths I carried myself up the stairs, tiptoeing, barely allowing myself to exhale in fear I would be too loud.

This is how people get murdered in horror movies you dumb bitch.

As my heart pounded heavily underneath my rib cage, I made it to the top of the stairs, turning on the light to the hallway.

Suddenly the bathroom door opened and I screamed, deep from my diaphram; but the only thing appearing was my cat; wide-eyed and meowing.

“Jesus Christ cat!” I yelled, falling onto my knees as I scooped him into my arms, running his orange fur through my fingers.

“You scared the absolute shit out of me,” I let out a breathy laugh, mocking myself for being so silly, before kissing the top of his head. Juice wriggled in my arms, letting out a meow to be put down. I placed him on the floor and he ran into my room. Shaking my head I placed the knife on the bannister, following Juice.

He sat on my bed, meowing towards my mirrored closet as I entered. Turning on the lamp next to my bed, I pet him, “What? Are you hungry? Your bowl is literally full.”

I pulled off my sweater, throwing it into the laundry hamper. Juice began hissing and I stared at him confused.

“What the hell is-”

A hand covered my mouth before I finished my sentence, and I immediately screamed into it, my sounds muffled into the gloved appendage. Another arm wrapped around my torso as my eyes widened with fear, and I froze in place, held tightly against the captor’s chest.

I felt the pace of their heart match my own, their chest heaving up and down heavily.

They turned our bodies towards the mirror and I stared at the reflection, tears beginning to fall from the terror I felt.

The man behind me towered over me, his grip never loosening from my body. Everything was covered except his eyes and mouth, peeking through a black ski mask.

I whimpered against his hand my stomach sinking at the sight of the gun that poked through his black cargo pants, but the most terrifying thing of all was the scent of Dior cologne.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” He said, accent burning into my memory, and I watched him in the mirror. It was him. Noah. I knew his voice, this had to be his cologne.

A wave of dread filled my body and I began shaking, crying into his hand. He followed me home, I never should have gone out with a stranger. How could I be so fucking stupid?

“I’m going to leave, and you’re going to let me. Understood?” I nodded, tears drying on my cheeks as I watched his every move. He closed his eyes, as if in regret before he took a deep breath. I don’t think he knows I know who he is, but there was no way in hell I was going to get killed being a crying little bitch. I’m going to harm this motherfucker and get his ass thrown into jail.

“Please don’t scream,” He said, his grip loosening on my body, and when he fully let go I swung around, kicking him forcefully in the family jewels. Noah fell onto his knees, a deep guttural groan emanating from his throat as he held himself in agony. I scrambled into the hallway, grabbing the knife off the bannister and pointing it towards my door.

“You fucking followed me you creep!” I screamed, anger seeping through me, “You’re a fucking lowlife, get out of my house or I’m calling the cops, Noah.” His name crawled off my tongue while dripping with complete disgust, the syllables sickening. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, fingers shaking as I typed in 9-1-1.

“I swear to god I had no idea this was your house,” He said pained as he crouched out of my bedroom, “please Y/N, don’t call the cops.”

“Why shouldn’t I call the cops!” I yelled. Noah’s eyes darted between the phone and me, following my thumb as it hovered over the green call button.

“Just don’t,” Noah said, holding himself against the door. I pressed the button, holding it up to my ear as it dialled.

Noah immediately looked frantic, before his hand reached for the gun placed in his waistline, pulling it out and pointing it at me. Immediately I froze, and the voice of the 9-1-1 operator was dampened by the drowning ringing of panic.

“Hang up,” Noah whispered, the gun shaking in his hands through his demand.

“Hello? Are you there?” The lady on the phone said.

“Y/N, hang up, please.”

Time felt frozen as I stared at the gun, memories flooding back from the murder of my parents. My bottom lip trembled, the phone falling from my hands, onto the carpeted floor. My body was stiff, completely locked in place.

“Hello?”

Noah’s other hand reached out gently, palm open and inviting; countering the symbolism of the weapon present in his other hand. He reached down towards the phone, ending the call.

He let out a sigh of relief, hanging his head in guilt. Throwing the gun to the floor, he kicked it towards the bathroom, before pulling the mask off, revealing the face I yearned for earlier.

He looked broken, and torn, as he watched me completely crumble before him, the panic attack rising in my lungs.

“I- I didn't mean to scare you I- I” Noah began to stutter frantically, moving towards me, “I can’t have the cops come- I can’t leave my brothers.”

I fell to the floor, holding my knees to my chest as I stared at the gun by the bathroom, terror taking over. My breathing became erratic as I began to hyperventilate.

“I swear to god I’m not going to hurt you,” Noah leaned down, sitting in front of me as he held my wrists.

I tried to take in breaths, I tried to pull myself away from him but I couldn’t move. I gasped for air, suffocating myself, unable to exhale.

“Breathe,” Noah’s hands now grabbed either side of my face, “please Y/N breathe!”

His eyes ran across my entire face, holding me, “Count back from 100 in 3’s with me, ok?”

“100, 97, 94, 91, 88…” Noah began, and I followed.

“85, 82, 79…” I choked out, and Noah’s grip on my face loosened, and he moved his hands to hold my own.

I wanted to run away so badly, I was terrified, but at the same time I was scared I wouldn’t be able to breathe again.

Noah counted with me, demonstrating a stable breathing pattern and my chest followed his own, mimicking him, “58, 55, 52, 49…”

Finally, we reached zero, and my breathing was normal. I retracted my hands from his own violently, pulling them into my chest as I scooted away from him as if he were the most vile thing in the world.

“I don’t know whether to say fuck off,” I said, glaring, “or thank you.”

Noah watched me with worry before he ran his gloved hand over his face. Realizing they were still on he groaned in frustration, peeling off the leather angrily and tossing them to the side, his tattooed hands now exposed.

I watched as his fingers shook, my eyes following the outline of the flower once again.

“I’m sure you don’t believe me but I swear I didn’t know this was your house.” He began, holding his hands up in surrender. His eyes looked at me, pleading.

He looked so genuine, so sincere, he had to be telling the truth; but fuck that.

“You’re right, I don’t,” I snarled, “But what the hell were you doing in someone else’s house anyway?” I wiped my mouth, the lipstick I put on earlier smudged across my skin. I probably looked like a complete mess right now. Noah watched, eyes tracing my lips.

“I- I swear If I could tell you I would,” Noah rambled again, looking at the carpeted floor, “but I-”

A loud triple-knock at the door interrupted his sentence, and he stared at me with wide eyes, the colour draining from his face.

“This is LAPD!”A loud voice boomed from the other side of the door, the doorknob turning, attempting to open.

“Shit,” Noah mumbled, looking around the hallway frantically. He stood up, searching for something before he stared down at me, an idea clicking in his mind. Noah tore his sweater off, along with his black tank top underneath, leaving him shirtless before me.

“What the hell are you doing!” I whisper-yelled, looking up at him with furrowed brows.

“Kiss me,” He said, kneeling in front of me again, complete distress and fear glazing over his eyes.

“Excuse me?” I now yelled, a little too loud as the door below us rattled again.

“LAPD! Open up!”

“I need you to kiss me, please,” Noah’s eyes bore into my own as he begged, “Trust me, just this once, please Y/N.”

I analyzed Noah’s features, his deep October eyes imploring.

Call me crazy, but somehow I obliged, leaning in with permission. Noah’s hands gripped the back of my head, fingers tangled through my hair as he pulled me onto him, kissing me with complete desperation.

Holy shit this was a really long chapter I am so sorry, but I hope you enjoyed it! I am excited to continue!! <3

Chapter two

#burning out fanfic #bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens cult #bad omens band #noah sebastian davis #nicholas ruffilo #jolly karlsson #nick folio #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian smut #smut #bad omens smut

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Knight and Rat

Posted this on my idv server but then my brain was like lol MORE so here we are lol

Rated Mature | Warning: Heat cycles

A feral little street urchin, the cards were never in your favor until he found you. You were stealing food from the supply wagons with the other street urchins, a rather organized hit from what he read of the reports.

You the leader had been willing to take the fall and ordered that anyone who gets captured to rat only you out. There is loyalty, fierce, and he could see the way you do not falter or flinch at the threats of imprisonment or even death.

“Welcome to the White King’s Army, rats!”

For your crimes of thievery of goods from the Royal White Army, you will serve in the military. Your training is overseen by the fearsome White Knight Ithaqua.

The others who were caught with you were also given the same sentence.

Ithaqua expects you all to break, you told them, they want spare bodies to toss into the battlefield to die— You will not let them die.

“Watch each others’ backs. We will show them!”

The training is vicious and merciless, and many nights the others would wish they were back on the streets rather than here.

“I want to fight Lord Ithaqua.” A full six months in and things were getting worse as White Kingdom started preparing for war with the Crimson Kingdom.

The final test is to put the rookies into their ranks.

The last group is yours with others nervous but ready.

“You dare challenge the White Knight?!” The person who made the selection shouted. You are looking at the bastard who gave you all hell for six months, who forced your found family into a service none of them can truly handle.

“Alright.” Getting up from his seat and grabbing his glaive, “What are your terms, rat?”

“If I make you bend the knee then you let my brothers and sisters go.”

“What about you?”

“I will remain in their place to fulfill the rest of their sentences.”

“Hmm.”

“If you win then my sentence gets extended.” You grab the training lance, two of them. “Do you agree to these terms?”

“Either way I keep you caged, rat.” Though without his full regalia, he is still a force to be reckoned with.

You go into a battle stance, he stands casually as he expects you to go strange at him. Two minutes and he becomes impatient enough to go after you.

The fight lasted longer than he expected as you used two lances, a combination of some of his skills and ones you picked up from other knights. Speed and agility to wear him down is a good idea but many have tried that before on him.

The last attack took a lot out of you as you threw everything you had to push him in at least one knee, but in the end, you were defeated and on the ground struggling to get up.

You were so angry, the rage on your face as you were forced to gaze upon the unaffected knight.

“Your siblings are free to go,” He crouches down in front of you, “But you belong to me from now on.”

Ithaqua was terrifying before to train with another teacher but training completely only under him is worse. Every day you go to bed sore and often barely unable to eat because of how painful it feels to chew and swallow.

But you do eat out of spite, to prove you will not break! To be able to beat him!

Tonight, he allows a break, a moment of rest for your wounds to heal properly. Though you antagonize him, you think this is out of pity and you will have none of it.

“I don't want your sympathy!” Attacking him with a training stick, “Fuck you!”

Ithaqua stands there holding the stick with one hand then smells the air before his eyes narrow, “Explains the hostility lately.” You can be stubborn but not violent. You usually are level-headed.

The dynamic between you both is not a mentor to the student, you both are soldiers in his eyes and equals in that sense. You do belong to him, you carry his crest marking a part of his house, nothing more.

“I hate you! Put me down right now! Don't touch me.”

Half breeds are always a mess to deal with, he does not know how his adopted mother handled him, especially during this time.

Late bloomers are rare but given you were not around your kin it makes sense being around Ithaqua would set you off. 

Heat. He takes an herbal mixture to keep him in check thus why he is so calm about this.

“Take off your clothes.” Best to do this outside to not have your room smell of sex.

“Make me, Ithaqua!” You are just being combative.

He sighs as he does exactly that.

“We are not fighting, (Name).”

You are giggling in a feral way as you run away, shit, his instincts calling to him to chase after you. And he does rough house with you in the garden behind his abode.

Clothing was stripped off and some were ripped off.

It takes a bit of work and he is grateful at least you are more than wet enough to help with the preparation.

There are a couple of times you are on top of him, mocking him, scratching and biting him. Feral thing!

But it does not last and when he is finally inside of you…

You are a perfect fit, too perfect, he hates he might have to savor this.

"Ithaqua," He hums at the sound of your voice. "Ithaqua!" That's better just the right pitch as you claw at the fabric of his coat under you. He needed it off and you do not like how grass feels on your naked sweaty skin. "More, ah, please."

"So polite," He gives more as he grabs a handful of your hair and pulls it back. "Louder." Growling as he feels you get tight around him.

"Ithaqua!" Crying out his name as cum from both the sharp pain of hair pull and his cock. He keeps going until he pulls out and cums all over your back. Then you drop to the ground completely spent and in a daze.

The White Knight leans back on his calves, hands slicking back his messy wet hair, this went on longer than you both expected.

He laughs when you complain about being sticky.

#asks #idv #reader insert #ithaqua x you #ithaqua x reader #idv ithaqua #identity v ithaqua #idv x you #idv x reader #idv night watch #night watch x reader #night watch x you #identity v night watch #identity v x reader #identity v #identity v x you

[fourthwingfan]

Madness - Chapter 19

Surpriiisee. I'm done with the next chapter.

And thank you, you are all so supportive. ❤️

Enjoy! :)

In response to the Great War, dragons claimed the western lands and gryphons the central ones, abandoning the Barrens and the memory of General Daramor, who nearly destroyed the Continent with his army. Our allies sailed home and we began a period of peace and prosperity as the provinces of Navarre united for the first time behind the safety of our wards, under the protection of the first bonded riders.

—Navarre, an Unedited History by Colonel Lewis Markham

What. The. Hell.

It’s as if everyone in the room has turned to stone, but I know that can’t be true. I can see Violet as she moves away from the guy who holds her. I can feel the guy’s warm hand in my hair, his skin malleable under my fingers as I shove his hand away from me.

And…I just stand there. What the hell?!

„Quickly, we need to move!” I wince at Vi’s hoarse voice as she breaks the silence.

Complete, unearthly silence.

The clock on the desk isn’t tickin. No one breathes. Their gazes are frozen. To the left, the woman I sliced open is hunched over, and the man I stabbed is leaned against the wall on the right, staring in horror at his thigh.

I mark time in thunderous heartbeats as we stumble into the only open space in the room, but our path to the now-open door isn’t clear.

Xaden fills the doorway like some kind of dark, avenging angel, the messenger of the queen of the gods. He’s fully dressed, his face a mask of veritable rage as shadows curl from the walls on either side of him, hanging in midair.

For the first time since crossing the parapet, I’m so fucking relieved to see him that I could cry.

Violet gasps beside me – and chaos resumes.

„It’s about damned time.” Aon rumbles.

Xaden’s gaze snaps to mine, his onyx eyes flaring in shock for no longer than a millisecond before he strides forward, his shadows streaming before him as he stands at our side. He snaps his fingers and the room illuminates, mage lights hovering above us.

“You’re all fucking dead.” His voice is eerily calm and all the scarier for it.

Every head in the room turns.

“Riorson!” The man’s dagger clatters to the floor who held Violet.

“You think surrendering will save you?” Xaden’s lethally soft tone sends goose bumps up my arms. “It is against our code to attack another rider in their sleep.”

“But you know he never should have bonded her!” He puts his hands up, his palms facing us. “You of all people have reason enough to want the weakling dead. We’re just correcting a mistake.”

“Dragons don’t make mistakes.” Xaden’s shadows grab every assailant but that man by the throat, then constrict. They struggle, but it doesn’t matter. Their faces turn purple, the shadows holding tight as they sag to their knees, falling in an arc in front of me like lifeless puppets.

I can’t find it in my heart to pity them.

Xaden prowls forward as though he has all the time in the world and holds out his palm as yet another tendril of darkness lifts a discarded dagger from the floor.

“Let me explain.” The man eyes the dagger, and his hands tremble.

“I’ve heard everything I need to hear.” Xaden’s fingers curl around the hilt. “She should have killed, but she’s merciful. That’s not a flaw I possess.” He slashes forward so quickly that I barely catch the move, and his throat opens in a horizontal line, blood streaming down his neck and chest in a torrent.

He grabs for his throat, but it’s useless. He bleeds out in seconds, crumpling to the floor. A crimson puddle grows around him.

“Damn, Xaden.” Garrick walks in, sheathing his sword as his gaze rakes over the room. “No time for questioning?” His glance sweeps to us as if cataloging injuries, catching on my bloodied face.

“No need for it,” Xaden counters as Bodhi enters, doing the same quick assessment Garrick had. The similarity between the cousins still gives me pause. Bodhi has the same bronzed skin and strong brow line, but his features aren’t as angular as Xaden’s, and his eyes are a lighter shade of brown. He looks like a softer, more approachable version of his older cousin, but my body doesn’t heat at the sight of him the way it does around Xaden.

An illogical laugh bubbles up through Violet’s lips, and all three men look at her like she’ve hit her head.

“Let me guess,” Bodhi says, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’re on cleanup?”

“Call in help if you need it,” Xaden answers with a nod.

„Are you okay Vi?” I turn to her and gently grab her arms.

Oh my god. I have a terrible nasal voice. If that man wasn’t already dead I would kill him for breaking my nose.

„I’m alive. I’m alive. I’m alive.” She repeats it again and again.

„Yes. You’re alive.” Xaden says as he steps over the bodies toward Violet’s armoire with her daggers in his hand.

Garrick and Bodhi haul out the first bodies.

„I didn’t realize I’d said that out loud.” She says and starts shaking like a leaf.

„It’s the shock.” I say gently and move her toward her chair. „Sit. It’ll be better, just breathe.”

„Are you hurt?” Xaden asks while whipping Violet’s cloak from its hook and retrieving a pair of boots. His words are clipped.

Silence.

“Come on, Violence.” His cajoling words are at odds with his terse tone as he folds the cloak over his arm and brings the boots through the remaining bodies he’s left on the floor. “Pull your shit together and tell me where you’re hurt.”

That nickname again.

“You’re breathing like crap, so I’m guessing it has to do with—”

“My ribs,” she finishes before he can guess. “The one by the bed hit the side of my ribs with the sword, but I think they’re just bruised.”

“Must have been a dull sword.” He cocks a dark eyebrow. “Unless it has something to do with why both of you sleep in your leather vest.”

“Trust him,” Aon demands.

 “I have trust issues if you couldn’t tell. It’s not that easy.”

“It has to be for now. And I burn him alive if he ever hurts you.”

“It’s dragon-scale.” I say and move so that the light shines on it. “Mira made it for us.”

 He glances between our bodies, his mouth tensing before he nods once.

„And you, Sunshine?” He asks before moving in front of me. „That’s a lot of blood.”

„Yeah, well not all of it is mine,” I shrug. „And maybe I pissed one of them off a bit, and he broke my nose.”

„You and your big mouth, Sunshine.” He sighs in exasperation.

Before I can argue that point, his gaze shifts to my face and narrows at what I imagine has to be incipient brusing. “I should have killed him slower.”

„And your ribs? He hit you really hard.” Violet asks from her seat.

„Sunshine?” Xaden asks with a raised eyebrow.

I sigh. Fine. „It hurts a little but my face is worse than that. Not worth mentioning.”

“Never lie to me.” He says it with such ferocity, bit out through gritted teeth.

„I would promise, but there are secrets I can’t tell you.” I whisper and I can hear the sadness in my voice. „Sometimes I have to put my life first. Secrets can kill you in the wrong hands.”

He looks at me with an indecipherable look, then nods.

„Then be honest with me when you can.” He says quietly and his gazes softens.

My heart flutters.

“My nose hurts, and my ribs too.” I admit.

“Let me see.” I open and shut my mouth twice. I don’t know what to say and I simply nod. I’m tired of arguing. I let him do what he wants. At least tonight I don’t have to control everything.

Two other men walk in through the open door, Garrick and Bodhi following closely after. They’re all…dressed. Fully clothed at—I glance at the clock—two a.m.

“Take those two, and we’ll get the last ones,” Garrick orders, and the others get to work, carrying the last of the bodies out through the door. I can’t help but notice they all have rebellion relics shimmering up their arms, but I keep the observation to myself.

“Thank you,” Xaden says, then flicks his hand and the door shuts with a soft click. “Now, let me see your injuries. We’re wasting time.” He turns to Violet. „And you… go and get dressed.”

She must be quite shaken up because with a glance at me she goes to her armoire and does as he said.

 I swallow, then nod.

He cradles my face in his hands and tilts my head to observe my face. I flinch when he lightly touch my nose.

„Sorry, Sunshine. But it’s not that bad.” He slowly drops his hand. „Nolon can mend it in the morning. Now let me see your ribs.”

I sigh. Better to know now if they’re broken anyway. I turn my back on him, but I can see his face in the full-length mirror. “You’ll have to—”

“I know how to handle a corset.” His jaw flexes once, and something that reminds me of raw hunger flitters across his expression before he locks it down, drawing my hair over my shoulder with surprising gentleness.

His fingers skim my bare skin and I suppress a shiver, locking my muscles so I don’t arch into his touch.

What the hell is wrong with me? There’s still blood on the floor, on me and yet my breaths are tight for the entirely wrong reason as he makes quick work of the laces, starting at the bottom. He wasn’t lying. He absolutely knows his way around a corset.

“How the hell do you get yourself into this thing every morning?” he asks, clearing his throat as inch after inch of my back is exposed.

“I’m freakishly flexible.” I answer over my shoulder and laugh at him. Our eyes meet, and warmth flutters through my stomach. The moment is gone as quickly as it came, and he pulls my armor apart, inspecting my right side. Gentle fingers stroke over the abused ribs, then prod carefully. Then he repeats it on the other side.

“You have one hell of a bruise, but I don’t think they’re broken.”

“That’s what I thought. Thank you for checking.” It should be awkward, but somehow it isn’t, even as he laces me back up, securing the ends.

“You’ll live.” He says as I turn around to face him.

„I’m ready. Where are we going?” Violet asks, and I can feel myself blushing.

Oh my god. She saw it all.

„Well… I should go and get dressed to. I’m not exactly decent.” I look at my corset and short.

„We don’t have time.” Xaden shakes his head. „Here, put it on.” He says as he shrugs off his flight jacket and gives it to me.

Without a word I take it from him.

“Let’s go.” He helps me put it on, like I’m something precious. Now I know I’m hallucinating it because I’m anything but precious to Xaden Riorson. He grasps my hand and tugs me into the hallway, Violet following us. His fingers are strong as they curl around mine, his grip firm but not too tight.

He gave me his jacket. It’s huge, and it has such a nice smell. It’s his scent. Mint and leather.

Every other door is shut. The attack wasn’t even loud enough to rouse the neighbors. We’d be dead by now if Xaden hadn’t shown up, even if we managed to get out of their hold. But how did that happen?

“Where are we going?” The hallways are dimly lit by blue mage lights, the kind that signal it’s still night for those without windows.

“Keep talking loud enough for others to hear, and someone will stop us before we get anywhere.”

“Can’t you just hide us in shadows or something?” Violet asks.

“Sure, because a giant black cloud moving down the hallway isn’t going to look more suspicious than a couple sneaking around, and you’re so small Violet, that nobody will notice you if you stay behind us.” He shoots us a look that keeps us from countering.

Point taken.

Not that we’re a couple.

Not that I wouldn’t climb the man like a tree if presented with the right set of circumstances. I cringe as we make it to the main hallway of the dormitory. There will never, ever be a right set of circumstances when it comes to him.

But in my defense, and in a sick, twisted way, his rescue was pretty damned hot, even if he is hauling me down the hallway at an untenable speed. Even if he only did it because Violet’s life is tied to his. My chest screams for a break, but there’s none to be found as he leads us past the spiral staircase that leads up to the second- and third-year dorms and into the rotunda.

Our boots against the marble floor are the only sounds as we pass into the academic wing. Instead of turning left, toward the sparring gym, he takes us right, down a set of stairs that I know leads to storage.

Halfway down the steps, he pauses, and I nearly run into the sword strapped to his back. Then he gestures with his right hand, keeping mine in his left.

Click. Xaden pushes on the stones and a hidden door swings open.

“Holy shit,” I whisper at the expansive tunnel revealed before us.

“Hope you’re not afraid of the dark.” He pulls me inside, and suffocating darkness envelops us as the door closes.

This is fine. This is absolutely fine. Just breathe.

“But just in case you are,” Xaden says, his voice at full volume as he snaps. A mage light hovers above our head, illuminating our surroundings.

“Thanks.” The tunnel is supported by arches of stone and the floor is smooth, as though it’s been traveled more than its entrance lets on. It smells like earth but isn’t dank, and it goes on for what seems like an eternity.

He drops my hand and starts walking. “Keep up.”

“You could—” Violet winces. “Be a little more considerate.” We trudge after him.

“I’m not going to baby you like Aetos does,” he says without turning around. “That’s only going to get you killed once we get out of Basgiath.”

“He doesn’t baby me.”

“He does and you know it. You hate it, too, if the vibe I’m picking up on is any indication.” He falls back to walk at our side. “Or did I read that wrong?”

“He thinks this place is too dangerous for someone…like me, and after what just happened, I’m not sure I can really argue with him. I was asleep. That’s the only time we’re supposed to be guaranteed safety around here. I don’t think I’ll bother sleeping again.” she shoots a look sideways at his profile. “And if you even think about suggesting that you sleep with me for safety from now on—”

He scoffs. “Hardly. I don’t fuck first-years—even when I was one—let alone…you.”

Ouch. There goes my fantasies. I’m a first-year after all. But deep in my heart I’m glad, that he is not attracted to Violet.

“Who said anything about fucking?” She fires back. “I’d have to be a masochist to sleep with you, and I can assure you, I’m not.”

“Masochist, huh?” A corner of his mouth quirks into a smirk.

“You hardly give off snuggly morning-after vibes.” A smile curves on her lips. “Unless you’re worried about me killing you while we sleep.” We round a corner, and the tunnel continues.

“I have zero concern about that. As violent as you are, and skilled with those daggers, I’m not even sure you could kill a fly. Don’t think I didn’t notice that you managed to wound them and never went for a kill shot.” He shoots a disapproving look her way.

“I’ve never killed anyone,” She whispers like it’s a secret.

“You’re going to have to get over that. All we are after graduation are weapons, and it’s best if we’re honed before leaving the gates.”

„That’s enough, both of you. You argue like children.” I roll my eyes. “Is that where we’re going? Are we leaving the gates?” I ask Xaden. I’ve lost all sense of direction in here.

“We’re going to ask Tairn what the hell just happened.” Xaden’s jaw flexes. “And I’m not talking about the attack. How the hell did they get past the locks?”

Violet shrugs but doesn’t explain.

“We’d better figure it out so it doesn’t happen again. I refuse to sleep on your fucking floor like some kind of guard dog.”

“Wait. This is another way to the flight field?” I do my best to mentally wall off the pain in my face. “Will you be there too?” I ask Aon.

“Naturally.”

“Are you going to tell me what that was in there?”

“I would if I knew.”

“Yes,” Xaden says, and the path curves again. “It’s not exactly common knowledge. And I’m going to ask you to tuck this little tunnel into the file of secrets you keep on my behalf.”

“Let me guess, and you’ll know if I tell?”

“Yes.” Another smirk appears, and I look away before he can catch me staring.

“Are you going to promise us another favor?” Violet asks. The path begins to climb, and the ascent is anything but gentle. Every breath reminds me of what happened less than an hour ago.

“Having one of my favors is more than enough, and we’ve already reached mutually assured destruction status, Sorrengail. Now, can you push through it, or do you need me to carry you?”

“That sounds like an insult, not an offer.”

“You’re catching on.” But his pace slows to match ours.

“What were you doing tonight anyway?” I ask curiously.

“What makes you ask?” His tone clearly insinuates that I shouldn’t. Too bad.

“You made it to Violet’s room within minutes, and you’re not exactly dressed for sleeping.” He’s strapped with a sword for crying out loud.

“Maybe I sleep in my armor, too.”

“Then you should pick more trustworthy bedmates.”

He snorts, a flash of a smile appearing for a heartbeat. A real one. Not the fake, forced sneer I’m used to seeing or the cocky little smirk. An honest, heart- stopping smile that I’m anything but immune to. It’s gone as fast as it appears, though.

“So you’re not going to tell me?” I ask. I’d be frustrated if I didn’t hurt so damned much. And I’m not even going to touch why he needed to haul us all the way to Tairn when obviously Violet can chat with him anytime she wants.

Unless he wants to talk to Tairn, which is…ballsy.

“Nope. Third-year business.” He lets go when we reach the stonewalled end of the tunnel. A few hand gestures and another click sounds before he pushes open the door.

We step out into crisp, freezingly cold November air.

“What the hell,” I whisper. The door is built into a stack of boulders on the eastern side of the field.

“It’s camouflaged.” Xaden waves a hand and the door closes, blending into the rock as if it’s a part of it.

There’s a sound I now recognize as the steady beat of wings, and I look up to see the four dragons block out the stars as they descend. The earth shudders as they land in front of us.

 Tairn steps forward and Sgaeyl follows, her wings tucked in tight, her golden eyes narrowing on me.

„What have I done?” I ask Aon.

He stands next to Sgaeyl and snaps at her.

„Do not worry about it, little one. She’s always so grumpy.”

I try to disguise my laughter as a cough.

Andarna scurries between Sgaeyl’s claws, galloping toward us. She skids the last dozen feet, paws digging into the ground to stop just in front of Violet, bringing her nose to her ribs.

„What’s so funny?” Xaden looks at me.

„Aon. He said Sgaeyl is always grumpy. But so is he.” I smile at Aon. „They siblings after all.”

Sgaeyl turns her head and shots a menacing look toward Aon, before she lowers her head and stares at me.

She’s so close. I have never been so close to another dragon. But I keep eye contact with her. I’m not weak.

She huffs a breath in… approval?

“No broken bones,” I hear Violet, as she strokes her hand over the bumpy ridges of Andarna’s head. “They’re just bruised.”

“As sure as I can be.” She forces a smile.

“Yes, I want a word. What the hell kind of powers are you channeling to her?” Xaden demands, staring up at Tairn like he isn’t…Tairn.

Yep. Ballsy. Every muscle in my body locks, sure that Tairn is about to torch Xaden for impudence.

“He says—” Violet starts.

“I heard him,” Xaden counters, not sparing her a glance.

“You what?” My eyebrows hit my hairline, and Andarna retreats to stand with the others. Dragons only talk to their riders. That’s what I’ve always been taught.

“It’s absolutely my business when you expect me to protect her,” Xaden retorts, his voice rising.

Tairn’s head swivels in that snakelike motion that puts me on alert. He’s more than agitated.

“And I barely made it.” The words come out clipped through clenched teeth. “They would have been dead if I’d been thirty seconds later.”

Tairn’s chest rumbles with a growl.

“And I’d like to know what the fuck happened in there!”

I inhale sharply. „Xaden!” I shout and grab his arm. „Do you want to get yourself killed?”

I’ve never seen someone so much as dare to speak to another rider’s dragon, yet alone yell at one, especially not one as powerful as Tairn.

„Let him go. If Tairn wants to kill him, let him do it. I don’t want to look for another rider.” Aon steps closer to us.

„I knew that you love me.” I wink at him. „But I can’t watch it. All four are connected to each other. And Violet is important to me.”

„Just her?”

“We need to know what happened in that room.” Xaden’s dark gaze cuts through me like a knife for a millisecond before he glares back at Tairn.

Tairn’s mouth opens, his tongue curling in a motion I know all too well.

I pull on Xaden’s arm and I step in front of him.

„I’m so sorry that he’s rude to you, Tairn.” I say in my most polite voice. „He’s just a little freaked out. Don’t scorch him, please.”

In awe, Violet blinks up at the navy-blue daggertail as Xaden moves to my side. “She talked to me.”

“I know. I heard.” He folds his arms across his chest. “It’s because they’re mates. It’s the same reason I’m chained to you.”

What? They can…talk to each other? My chest hurts. Theoretically I knew it that they have a connection, but hearing it… it hurts.

I step away from them and I go over to Aon.

„Why am I here?” I ask him. „I mean I can’t hear half of the discussion.”

„I wanted to see you, to know that you’re all right.” He lowers his head and nudges me with his nose. „And unfortunately it seems the wingleader cares about you.”

„What? How do you know that?” I ask as I pet his nose.

„Sgaeyl likes to gossip. Now concentrate on the conversation, little one.”

I look at him in disbelief, but I nod and walk back to the others.

“You make it sound so pleasant.”

“It’s not.” Xaden turns to face Violet. “But you and I are exactly that, Violence. We’re chained. Tethered. You die, I die, so I damn well deserve to know how the hell you were under that man’s knife one second and across the room in another. Is that the signet power you’ve manifested with Tairn? Come clean. Now.” His eyes bore into her.

“I don’t know what happened,” She answers honestly.

Violet pivots to face the golden dragon, repeating what she said to us. „Nature likes all things in balance, that’s the first thing we’re taught.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Xaden asks Violet, not her.

Guess that means he can hear Tairn, but not Andarna.

“Feathertails shouldn’t bond because they can accidentally gift their powers to humans,” Violet continues. “Dragons can’t channel—not really—until we’re…they’re big, but they’re all born with something special.”

She relays the message. “Like a signet?” She asks out loud so Xaden and I can hear.

“Sgaeyl said, that no,” Aon tells me. “A signet is a combination of our power with your own ability to channel. It reflects who you are at the core of your being.”

Andarna sits up and tilts her head proudly.

“But I gave my gift directly to you. Because I’m still a feathertail.” Violet repeats again, staring at the smaller dragon. Almost nothing is known about feathertails because they’re never seen outside the Vale.

They’re guarded. They’re… I swallow. Wait. What did she say?

“You’re still a feathertail?” I look at Andarna in desbelief.

She blinks slowly and then cracks a yawn, her forked tail curling.

“You’re…you’re a hatchling,” Violet whispers.

Oh. Gods.                       

“She’s a what?” Xaden’s gaze swings between Andarna and Violet.

“How much faster?” Violet gasps. “She’s two years old!”

Sgaeyl chuffs at Andarna in obvious disapproval.

What an interesting conversation. I can’t hear half of what they say. Whatever, I will ask Vi later.

“Hold on. Is Andarna yours?” Xaden walks a step toward Sgaeyl, and the tone in his voice is one I’ve never heard. He’s…hurt. “Have you hidden a hatchling away from me these last two years?”

Sgaeyl blows out a blast of air that ruffles Xaden’s hair.

I look at Aon questioningly.

„Her parents passed before hatching.” He answers.

Tairn grumbles.

“Unpredictable?” Xaden questions.

“Gods, no. I could barely control it as a first-year.” Xaden shakes his head.

It’s odd to imagine Xaden ever not being in control.

“I would never!” Violet shakes her head.

Andarna’s head flops against Tairn’s leg. How could I not see it before now? Her rounded eyes, her paws…

“Of course, you wouldn’t know. Feathertails aren’t supposed to be seen,” Aon says.

“If leadership knew riders could take her gifts for themselves, rather than depending on their own signets…” Xaden says, staring at Andarna as she blinks slower and slower.

“She’d be hunted,” Violet finishes quietly.

“I won’t,” Violet promises as she looks toward the dragons. “Andarna, thank you. Whatever you did saved our lives.”

Her mouth drops open into another jaw-cracking yawn.

Violet stares at her and wobbles.

“What did she say?” Xaden asks her.

Tarin grumbles.

“Tell me what she said. Please.” His mouth tightens and I know that last bit cost him.

“She can pause time,” She forces out, stumbling over her words. “Briefly.”

Xaden’s features slacken, and for the first time, he doesn’t look like the stalwart, lethal wingleader I met on the parapet. He’s flat-out shocked as his gaze swings to Andarna. “You can stop time?”

“In small increments,” Vi whispers.

“In small increments,” Xaden echoes slowly, like he’s absorbing the information.

“And if I use it too much, I can kill you,” Violet says softly to Andarna.        

Silence, then Violet breaks it.

“Is Professor Carr going to kill me, too?” Every gaze whips toward Violet.

“Why would you think that?” I ask her with concern.

“He killed Jeremiah.” She says in a trembling voice. “You saw him snap his neck like a twig right in front of the whole quadrant.”

“Jeremiah was an inntinnsic.” Xaden’s voice lowers. “A mind reader is a capital offense. You know that.”

“And what are they going to do if they find out I can stop time?”

Terror freezes the blood in my veins.  “They’re not going to find out,” I promise her.

“No one is going to tell them. Not you. Not me. Not Aelin. Not them.” Xaden motions with one hand toward our dragons. “Understand?”

„Be safe, little one.” Aon says as they all bend slightly, then launch, wind gusting against my face. Andarna struggles, her wings beating twice as hard, and Tairn flies up underneath her, taking her weight and continuing on to the Vale.

“Promise me you won’t tell anyone about the time-stopping,” Xaden asks Violet as we head back into the tunnel, but it feels an awful lot like a command. “It’s not just for your safety. Rare abilities, when kept secret, are the most valuable form of currency we possess.”

My brow furrows as I study the stark lines of the rebellion relic that winds up his neck, marking him as a traitor’s son, warning everyone that he’s not to be trusted. But so far he has proven to be more reliable than my own father.

“We need to figure out how unbonded cadets got in your room,” Xaden says.

“There was a rider there,” Violet tells us. “Someone who ran away before Aelin arrived. She must have unlocked it from the outside.”

“Who?” I halt, taking her elbow gently and turning her toward us.

She shakes her head.

“At some point, you and I are going to have to start trusting each other, Sorrengail. The rest of our lives depend on it.” Fury swims in Xaden’s eyes. “Now tell me who.”

„Tell us, Vi. You know I will always believe you.” I say softly. „Who else was there?”

#fourth wing #fanfiction #fourth wing fanfic #the fourth wing #violet sorrengail #xaden riorson #oc #the empyrean #xaden x oc #xaden riorson x oc #tairn #sgaeyl #dragons #andarna #madness

[luveline]

omg pls bodyguard james and reader somehow endangers herself and after he’s all angry upset cause she could’ve been hurt! but then fluffiness? whatever u desire sweet jade if u even like this at all <333

thanks so much for your request I love bodyguard James <3

"You don't ever listen," James says, pinching the bridge of his bloody nose. 

You're wracked with guilt; he's hurt because of you. And you're not sure you can make it better, not when he's so angry; he's practically vibrating with it. 

"Jamie-" 

"Don't. Don't, babe. Sit down." 

You sit down on your princess white sheets, the plush bed feeling like concrete under your guilt heavy body. 

"You need to listen to me when we're out together, okay? I know what's best for you." 

"I just-" 

"I know what's best," he talks over you. "You understand? This is my job. I don't care what you think you know, if I tell you to move, you move. If I tell you to run, you run." 

James isn't ever so firm with you. He's carefree, happy-go-lucky, flirtatious at best and a real dog at worst. 

You don't know what to say, your chest tight with nerves and upset. He's furious with you, his entire torso tensed, his arms crossed and bloody hands tucked away. 

"I mean, what did you think was going to happen? They were there for you." 

You wilt evermore. "I know," you say quietly, looking down at your lap. 

You're embarrassed, too. You'd done what he asked - you'd ran and hidden around a corner. You'd seen the first punch that James had dodged, the second, the third, and when the forth had slammed straight into his face… you'd burst from your hiding spot and shouted his name. 

The look on his face, the alert, the surprise. He'd been hit again in his distraction, and then he'd dealt with the attacker swiftly after that.

"I can take a hit. I can take a lot worse. But if they had managed to lay hands on you like this," he gestures to his face, huffs, and turns away from you. "Fuck," he says to himself. 

Your eyes prick. "I'm really sorry, James… I've never seen you get hurt before." 

It starts to really ache, the guilt of the second hit he'd taken for you. Your hands feel numb, and you sniffle uselessly as tears well up. 

"This is all my fault," you whisper, covering your face with your hands. 

Your head hurts. Your eyes burn. You're so fucking stupid, you always do this. James is right - you never listen, and now his nose is already covered in a horrifying display of purpling skin. 

You cringe as he walks towards you, craving his comfort and knowing you won't deserve it if he gives it to you.

"Angel," he says, his anger replaced by a doting softness. 

You don't respond and feel the mattress moving underneath you as he sits. His hand, covered in cuts and bruises, spreads out over your shoulder blade. His heat is an instant soothing balm. He's covered in blood, his nose having gushed a generous waterfall of crimson down his uniform. He must think the same thing as you.

"You know, I never imagined my first time ruining your sheets would be quite like this." 

You snort despite yourself. "How do you imagine it?" 

"We both know that's a loaded question," he says, words coloured by his honey sticky laugh. His hand rubs your back with a nice pressure. "It's not your fault. This is why I'm here, okay?" his head drops down, his voice soft. "The whole reason I'm around is to look after you. And it's not your fault that people want to hurt you. Don't say that." 

You peek at him through your fingers. "It's my fault that they hit you," you protest. Tears fall from the force of your self admonishment, carving down your face in hot lines. 

He wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you in, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. His voice is fond. "Oh, sweet girl. That's not your fault. I'm gonna get hurt, yeah? S'in the job description." 

"I distracted you. You were holding out, and I messed you up. I mess everything up." 

He blinks at you. "No, you don't." 

"I do! I do, I always mess things up for you and get us into trouble and now your perfect nose is broken, and-" You shudder, hands pressed to your neck. 

James' hand works overtime, rubbing the length of your cold upper arm over and over. "You don't. Of course you don't. Sweetheart, I'm not mad at you because of the Gala. We've known you were going to be in danger at some point, right? That's the whole reason I'm here." 

You wring your hands in your lap. James pulls you closer still, your side pressed into his big chest. "I'm mad because- because even if I get hurt, you have to do what's best for you. You have to do what I tell you to do. If something happened to you-" 

"You'd have to go job hunting, James, I know." 

"I'd be beside myself," he corrects gently. 

You finally lift your head up just enough to meet his gaze from under your lashes. "I'm sorry." 

"I know. It's okay," he says sincerely, nodding at you slowly. His touch, his closeness, is a tether. 

"Does it hurt?" 

"A little. Nothing I can't handle."

You bring your trembling hand up, afraid to touch his face. He stays very still, eyes drifting closed as you brush the bruising skin with a featherlight touch. "Is it really broken?" 

"My 'perfect' nose?" he murmurs.

You flush and pull your hand away. His eyes open, dark and deep and full of a tenderness that makes your heart skip. 

"Just aches, baby. Kiss it better?" 

You scowl at him, mildly irked that you can't escape his teasing, even now. His face lights up at your expression. 

"There's my girl." 

#james potter fic #james potter #marauders era #marauders #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter drabble

[kalofi]

zl fic idea

hii everyone i wrote something yesterday about an au idea i had for zolu and. i thought i'd share it here since its a bit too messy and disjointed in places to post on like. ao3 or something.

4.7k words, warning for temporary major character death but do not worry all will be fixed in due time. i'll put the rest under the cut

ok i have an idea for an au thats like kind of reincarnation but like reality displacement but like. okay just listen.

so we start at laughtale. its a couple years into the future from where we are in canon the strawhats are achieving their dreams luffy is about to find the one piece theres a big battle happening between them and the blackbeard pirates and whoever the fuck else is there idc. the rest of the strawhats are fighting the bb crew while luffy and zoro head off to find the one piece and also end up fighting black beard himself. luffy and zoro atp r like basically a thing but they never talk about it cuz theyre luffy and zoro and they kind of just exist with each other but like. theyre basically in love and everyone knows it. anyway they go off together luffy has the one piece almost in his grasp blackbeard attacks they fight its a big battle blood is shed bones are broken uumm in my mind luffy and zoro are like teaming up against bb bc his devil fruit is lowk broken and op and like ok theres gear5 too but i didnt rly consider that so lets just assume bb’s devil fruit can negate gear5 somehow or luffy exhausts it before bb is fully defeated. 

finally theyre able to knock bb down and hes out and theyre both tired and worn but they DID IT and the one piece is luffys and theyre facing each other grinning ear to ear and zoros saying “you ready, king of the pirates?” and luffy laughs and goes “not just yet zoro, i still gotta-“ and then theres a spear piercing right through his chest. and in the next moment its gone. 

theres a gaping hole through his captain and theres blood, theres so much blood and luffy’s still smiling like he hasnt realized it yet, like it hasnt even registered. zoros ears are ringing and he doesnt know what to make of whats hes seeing because its just not real, it CANT be. 

he looks over luffy’s shoulder and blackbeard is on the ground with his hand outstretched , black energy coiling back into his form and he’s laughing and laughing with bloodstained teeth. hes fucking laughing. one moment zoro is still standing parallel to luffy and the next hes in front of blackbeard and the mans head is rolling through the dirt and gravel, wado dripping crimson, a terrible gap toothed grin still stretching the man’s cheeks. 

zoro is breathing heavy, hes trembling and hes almost mesmerized by the blood pooling around a lacerated neck— then he’s remembering luffy and turning around and calling his name and he can see right through him theres a HOLE right through him and he chokes and stumbles and rushes to his side right as luffy starts to crumple to the floor . catches him and lowers him gently and doesnt know what to say. 

hes still shaking but cant move his mouth and everything is muffled, the sounds from the battle outside are distant and they dont matter but what does he do. what does he do. 

he snaps out of it when luffy gently calls his name. a strong “zoro,” like hes not fazed at all. like there isnt blood soaking into zoros clothes. 

his brain kickstarts and he’s speaking. saying things like “youre ok you’ll be ok” and “choppers right outside i’ll just call him and he’ll fix you right up” and “you always bounce back, right captain?” and hes thinking “dont die please dont fucking die. not now, not when we’re this close please dont fucking die” and hes silently praying to all the gods he doesnt believe in but luffy calls his name again and his mouth clicks shut. luffys saying it’ll be fine, that he had fun. that hes proud to have made it this far with all of them. and those sound a lot like parting words so zoro’s shaking his head no but luffy is still smiling. hes saying that hes glad he had zoro, that he made him happy. hes saying to tell everyone he’s glad they met, that hes glad they all had each other, that he knows theyll be just fine . 

zoro wants to say that luffy should tell that to them himself, when hes wrapped up and recovering and alive but his mouth is glued shut again and he feels that interrupting luffy now would be cursing him to death, like his words are the only thing keeping him tethered here, he just needs to get him to keep talking to stay awake. 

he tries to smile but it comes out ugly and wrong and he feels his lip wobble so he drops it. he settles on rubbing his thumb on luffys shoulder. something to keep him here. 

so he rubs and luffy talks little things until he cant anymore. until his eyes grow dull and his skin loses its warmth and still zoro rubs and he rubs.

—

thats how law finds them. zoro hunched over a body that should never be as still as it is. and its really no surprise hes there, hes been gunning for the one piece since the time he could captain a ship (or a submarine) but it all feels so wrong. 

zoro either doesnt notice him or doesnt care, but either way the man doesnt acknowledge law until he’s right behind him. its not like law can say anything to announce himself either, not after seeing the state of the body that zoros currently holding. the body that used to be luffy’s. hes still processing it all when the other man(the one whos alive) finally speaks. 

zoro asks if hes got a devil fruit. less of a question and more of a statement, but he should know anyway since theyve spent considerable time together and hes literally seen him use it. law cant unstick his jaw so he hums in affirmation. “and you can switch stuffs’ places?” another hum. “what about time.” 

that makes law pause. “what?” his voice comes out stronger than he feels. 

“what about time? can you switch things in time?” by this point law has awakened his devil fruit or some shit dont sweat the logistics but hes never tried anything of that sort so he kind of stumbles “im not- maybe? ive never attempted-“ zoro interrupts “send me back” 

“what?” 

“send me back so i can fix this. you can do that, right.” it clicks. law would pity zoro if he didnt know any better, instead he just feels mounting despair and resignation. 

he may not be crew, but he knew luffy too, he was allied with the man for fucks sake, and this just feels- wrong. he sighs, a tired, heavy thing. 

“what about your crew?” its useless. zoros as stubborn as his captain, with arguably a handful more screws loose. “it wont matter. they’ll never know because i’ll make sure this doesnt happen.” he still hasnt turned around. law doesnt know what expression hes making and hes sure he never wants to find out. 

hes ready to deny it, cut his losses and head for the one piece himself (hes not heartless, but if he stands here any longer and has to look at. well. he think he might never be able to move again) but then he really thinks about it. could he? would it even be possible? surely this isnt the way things were supposed to go, surely this isnt right. luffys never been one who was supposed to die just like that, like this, law knows that much. he thinks hes going to regret this, but he counts it as one last thank you for everything luffy did for him. 

youre gonna owe me big time strawhat-ya. if i even remember this, that is. 

he puffs a breath “i can try. i cant- promise anything but. i think we both know this,” he makes a vague, weak gesture, “isnt right.” 

zoro doesnt say anything, law didnt expect him to. he just bows his head slightly and law takes that as the acknowledgment it is. 

he brings his hand up, “dont do anything stupid, zoro-ya. or, at least, make it stupid enough to bring him back.” 

he positions his fingers in way so familiar, but the weight of it now is nearly unbearable.

room.

shambles

—

zoro’s world shatters, differently than before, and then theres nothing.

—

he wakes up in bed, bleary eyed and a pounding headache assaulting his senses. his alarm clock is going off which only adds to the drumbeat against his eyes. he grumbles and whacks around aimlessly to shut it off. the silence lasts a moment before his eyes fly open and he jolts up, sheets pooling around his waist. luffy. where was he? where was zoro? did the crew find him and take him back to the ship? did law fail? but this didnt look like chopper’s office.

he looks around to find hes in a room hes never seen before in his life, yet he instinctively knows is his. it all feels so wrong, like he doesnt belong in his own skin. he scratches lightly at his arm. he needs to go to work. 

work?

what the fuck is happening. 

its like his mind is at war with itself, one truth trying to dominate over the other. he trained at sensei’s dojo. he aged out of foster care. he was a swordsman, he was the first mate of the strawhat pirates. he didnt go to college, hes working construction. he made a promise, and kuina died. kuina…died. huh. his captain, his luffy, someone he knew so intimately and who knew him in turn. hes never met someone with that name his entire life. he needs to go to work, he needs to find his crew. 

he doesn’t understand what the fuck is happening. 

without his permission his legs stand him right up and he moves confusedly, surely, to the bathroom he didnt know he had. his reflection stares back at him in the mirror and its him, of course it is, he doesnt know why he expected someone else, but hes also…different. he has both function of his eyes, first of all. a scar in the same place as before but its light and healed over and doesnt seem to have blinded him like it once did. his hair is green, sure, but black roots peek out from underneath the familiar shade. hes grown stubble, he should shave. he needs to go to work. 

hes so confused, but his body moves like its been doing this its whole life. as far as zoro knows, it has. 

he continues getting ready, mind still at odds, and makes himself a cup of coffee (in his own kitchen. his own kitchen? the state of it leaves less to be desired. sanji would surely skin him alive) before tucking into his shoes, grabbing his wallet and keys and heading out the door. he seems to live in a single room apartment, and a crummy one at that. his legs move him faster, he has to go to work, he cant be late again (again?).

his car is parked outside the building, he has no fucking clue what it is but he unlocks it all the same and settles in. he feels like he shouldnt be operating this sort of machinery. franky would know better than him how it must work. he starts it up and backs out. trusting his gut to get him where he needs to be. he should be more concerned, he should be frantic and inconsolable, his captain was dead in his arms and now hes? what? going to lay some bricks or some shit? but he finds that part of him dulled in favor of following whatever mundanity this body is pushing him towards. 

uumm whatever whatever he arrives at work eventually i dont know how construction jobs work are there offices or something. idc thats not the point. johnny and yosaku are there and zoro is surprised to see them since, as far as he knows, the last time they were with each other was at arlong park which was years ago for him. but the two greet him like this is a daily occurence, like theyve been working together for years. and zoro thinks, knows, they must have. but this is good, this is great fucking news actually because until now theres been no confirmation if zoro was here alone (wherever “here” is) but now his proof is right in front of him because if johnny and yosaku are here, and they exist the same as from before, then that must mean everyone else is here too right? he clings onto this hope with both hands trembling. 

nami, usopp, the cook and chopper and robin and franky, brook, jinbe and fuck. fuck, luffy. theyve got to be here somewhere, zoro just has to find them. hes not sure if they remember things like he does but hes got to try because they are his as much as he has always been theirs and they should all exist together as it has always been. 

so then yeah he finishes his shift because its what hes ‘supposed’ to do but he doesnt go home. he drives around aimlessly before pulling into a random lot and pulling out his phone (theres no snail attached to it. weird.) he doesnt even know where to begin. hes not usually the one coming up with plans, he just goes where theres blood need to be shed. but no one seems to be in any danger here except for maybe himself, and its not like he has his swords anyway- shit. fuck did he still have wado? he must have right? he knows there was a kuina that existed here too, he knows because he remembers. and she, well she wasnt around anymore so he must have wado. he must. with shaking fingers he pushes that aside for now, though barely. he needs to find luffy, but he wouldnt even know where to start. luffy could probably find the rest of their crew by simply wandering around and happening upon them, thats how he did it before. but zoro has no idea where he’d be, he doesnt even know where he is. nami or robin would be a good bet to at least form a plan, but he wouldnt know how to find them either. 

is there even a coco village here? would robin still be part of baroque works? he needs someone who has a defined location that he could google or something (what the hell is google?). usopp would be at syrup village right? shit. is there even a drum island? these are all too broad, he needs something specific. specific…..a place with an identifiable name, somewhere smaller that would be easier to stake out…

a lightbulb goes off. 

fucking shit he thinks. of course. of fucking course it would come down to the cook. 

he types in “baratie” to his maps and a location pops up, just 27 minutes from where he is now. he hasnt eaten yet either, so he figures thats killing two birds with one stone. he taps the address, backs out of the lot and drives. 

(if it takes him nearly an hour to get there thats nobodys business but his own)

he pulls up to the building about a quarter after 7. it seems packed enough already, but if memory serves him right then that was just par for the course for baratie. he parks, gets out and locks his car, then shoves his hands in his pocket and resigns himself to another oncoming migraine hes sure to get upon interacting with the man hes certain is waiting somewhere inside. 

the tables are full, the host tells him, he slips a 20 from his wallet and suddenly (of course) theyre more than willing to serve him. 

he gets settled in a far and somewhat isolated booth and a waiter comes up to him, but he cuts the man off as hes introducing himself and says “you got a blonde working here? stupid ass side part with a weird eyebrow? goes by sanji” the waiter looks shocked and put off by his rudeness but quickly collects himself and says “we might. depends on whos asking” zoro snorts “just tell him hes got someone who wants to talk to him,” he cringes at this next part, tries to smile but knows it comes off as a sneer. hes not sure if he still has conquerors haki wherever he happens to be now, but he tries to channel that energy the same way he would if he were in battle and says “tell him im a fan.” the waiters eyes widen, in fear or surprise zoros not sure (most likely a mix of both) before he nods and scurries across the floor, weaving in between patrons and coworkers alike until he disappears behind the double doors to the kitchen. 

zoro sits with his arms crossed and skims through the menu out of boredom and impatience. its a couple minutes before he sees a familiar head of blonde hair emerge from across the way. a smile climbs onto his face despite himself. sure, the guy annoyed him to hell and back and their…friendship (if you could really call it that) was a tumultuous one, but it was good to see someone familiar nonetheless. he schools his expression before the blonde can spot him. a few moments pass before hes standing right in front of zoro, his stupid suit primped and pressed as always, and a cautious look on his face. 

“you asked for me?” his tone is the one he only reserves for men who he deems not worth his time. zoro grits his teeth but says “yeah, theres something ive gotta discuss with you.” 

hes never been one for tact, forever blunt unlike his swords. 

sanji quirks a brow “i dont plan on talking about anything with anyone unless theyre a paying customer” zoro feels his eyebrow twitch but grabs his menu nonetheless and points to a random item without looking “i’ll have this then, and whatever booze you got.” sanji leans in to see what hes pointing to before his one visible eye widens and a grin slowly overtakes his previously unaffected face. 

he speaks condescendingly. “wonderful choice sir, coming right up.” before zoro can get another word in he grabs the menu out of his hand, spins on his heel, and marches back to the kitchen. 

zoro clenches his fists and does his best not to grind his teeth into a fine dust. no matter where they are or what displacement in time the fucking curly brow never fails to be absolutely insufferable. at least this way though, zoro knows its him for real. 

its another 20 minutes before the shit cook reemerges from the back with a platter and a mug in his hand. he steps up to zoros table and places the plate and cup down in front of him with a smug look. zoro has no idea what the fuck hes looking at on his plate. he doesnt have time to question it before sanji plops down in the booth seat across from him, disregarding all previous faux-professionale and asking “so what do you want” zoro tears his eyes away from his plate and looks into sanji’s, trying to convey as much emotion, as much urgency as he possibly can. 

“luffy needs us. and we have to find him” whatever the cook was expecting him to say, it definitely wasnt that. the other man regards him more warily now, looking him up and down with a tense frown before replying “i dont know what the hell youre talking about. and i dont appreciate being mocked or having my time wasted” he goes to stand up but zoro grabs his wrist, yanking him back down unceremoniously. 

he blinks before rounding back on zoro, flaring his nostrils in a way zoro knows means hes about to get himself in deep shit “oi, what the fuck do you think youre-“ he doesnt let him finish “im not mocking you. this isnt some stupid prank or whatever youre thinking. and despite how much i would enjoy punching your teeth in right now im not looking for a fight either.” 

the cook still looks affronted but seems to actually be listening. zoro continues “look, i dont know what the fuck is going on. i was at laughtale with you and the others, with luffy, and then i woke up and now im here and i dont know how but this is all wrong. its all wrong but i need to find luffy and fuck, i cant do it alone. i need your help to find him. find everyone.” the blondes eye is wide, but he blinks and its gone. he looks more tired than zoro has ever seen him 

“im not paid enough for this shit. i dont know why i even-“ he looks like hes getting ready to leave again but zoro is desperate at this point so he blurts out whatever he thinks will convince the other man hes not bullshitting.

“we met you here, at the baratie. me and nami and usopp and luffy. luffy busted through one of your walls so your old man punished him by making him wash dishes. i dont, i dont know what luffy said to you, or how he convinced you to join us, but he changed your life like he did mine. we sailed together, and we had each others backs no matter how much we got on each others nerves. you were our cook. i was our swordsman. luffy was our captain and youd do anything to help him, i know you would, same as me. youre a pervert and an asshole and a damn annoyance, but youre strong. i could still kick your ass though” if the cook’s eyebrow could go any higher hes sure itd be clear off his forehead by now. 

“and you- your dream. you wanted to find the all blue.” he stalls there, engine sputtering. zoro doesnt know what else to say, so he snaps his mouth shut. 

the blonde is still gaping at him like a fish, but he mouths the phrase “all blue” like hes been searching for it his whole life, like he always knew but just never had the words. 

he blinks. 

then he blinks again, rapidly. there are tears pooling in his eyes. his mouth flaps for a moment before he seems to finally be able to push out words. 

“you- zoro?” he sounds small. he sounds hopeful. zoro grins. 

“yeah, yeah its me.” sanji stares at him a moment, then looks around, as if hes seeing everything with clear eyes for the very first time. zoro figures he might as well be. 

“holy shit. holy shit.” 

zoro laughs, a rough thing. theres a ball in his throat that he cant seem to dislodge. “nice to have you back, curly brow” sanji’s gaze snaps back to him before he scowls and tries wiping away the tears that are now streaking down his cheeks. its useless though, it seems they cant stop. zoro laughs again at the sorry state of the asshole in front of him, this time more full and genuine. he feels so relieved he doesnt know what to do with himself. 

“yeah yeah, whatever dick head.” sanji grumbles. zoro quiets down, glances away, lets him have his moment. “fuck, mosshead, im still on the clock and you unload all this on me? how the hell am i supposed to finish the rest of my shift?” his words are sharp but he doesnt sound angry at all. in fact, when zoro turns back to look, hes smiling. 

“you remember now though, dont you?” he has to be sure. 

“what does it look like, dumbass? think im tearin’ up cuz of pollen or some shit?” the cook rolls his eye. theyre both silent for a moment, trapped in their own heads, before he speaks up again. “so, what now?” zoro doesnt even have to think before he answers “we find everyone else, obviously.” “well no shit, but how?” zoro glances to the side. “i was hoping youd figure that out” sanji stares before bursting out laughing. zoro scowls and hunches into his shoulders. 

“of course!” sanji cackles “of course your dumbass wouldnt know what to do! you probably just typed in the most recognizable place you could remember and hoped one of us would be there!” zoro doesn’t answer, because yes thats what he fucking did, but it worked didnt it? he doesnt see whats so funny. 

“fuck you.” 

he wants nothing more than to bash that smarmy mouth in, but the familiar egging settles something in his soul. sanji gasps a few breaths before calming down, now wiping tears from his eyes for a completely different reason. 

“alright alright, well lets figure this out then, yeah? we figure out how we got here then we can figure out how to get back right? simple enough” 

zoro nods, “law was-“ he stops. remembers dull eyes and clammy skin and wrong wrong wrong. he shakes his head, “no, no we cant” sanji looks at him confused. 

“we cant go back,” zoro presses, “not until i fix things. i promised i would” the other man seems to pick up on his panic and his mood dampens, becomes more serious. “promised what?” 

zoros never been one to sugarcoat, but now he wishes he could find a way to soften the blow hes about to deal. he inhales, pushes the breath out. says, “luffy died, sanji.” the fact the hes actually using the other mans name seems to fly right over his head in favor of the first part. “what?” zoro huffs, is he really gonna make him say it again? “luffy di-“ sanji interrupts, angry now, fists clenched and whitened from the pressure “i heard what you said. but what do you mean.” 

he doesnt want to have to tell sanji what happened, doesnt want to talk about it at all, wants to slice it up into small enough pieces that it very well may have never existed.

he told law the others wouldn't have to know, that he would make sure of it, but he's realizing now just how unrealistic that is. as much faith as zoro places in his own abilities, he's aware he's only one man.

and, he figures, if there's anyone i can trust enough to share a burden heavy as this with, might as well be the one who's strength i'd count on just as much as my own.

sanji cant help if he doesnt know what went down once they got separated at laughtale, so zoro sets his shoulders, clenches his fists, prepares himself like hes riding into a battle he knows he has no chance of winning—hes the first mate for fucks sake—and resigns himself to filling the other man in on every horrible detail

by the end, the cook looks much the same as zoro feels, pale-faced and shaky. he runs a trembling hand through his hair and clenches his eye shut. “fuck mosshead, thats…” he doesnt bother finishing, and zoro stays silent—already knowing just how much of a shitty situation it is that theyve found themselves in.

—

(btw the reason sanji was so smug about what zoro randomly chose on the menu is bc its one of their most expensive dishes. even upon regaining his memories he still makes zoro pay it cuz hes an asshole like that. business is business 😁)

uuummm i dont feel like detailing the rest basically my idea is that they work together to try and track down all the members as well as law, since hes also a part of this. i dont know how or when or in what order but i do know finding luffy would come last. so yes its zolu but for a majority of it more in spirit than anything. maybe i can throw in some luffy pov of him living with ace and sabo . he knows something is off but cant place his finger on what. he knows something is missing but hes got his brothers with him so what else could he possibly need? etc etc. you get the idea

#devil fruits don't work like this but don't sweat the logistics. just read with your heart not your head #it starts off rough cause im kind of just rambling about my ideas then the more i go the more it just turns into a fic #let me know your thoughts in the comments or my inbox or whatever i love discussing stuff hehe!! #as you all know im an artist first and foremost but sometimes my ideas get a bit too big for my current drawing skills so i write them down #so heres that #one piece #zolu #theres no guarantee i'll ever like. srsly continue this but i rly rly like it as a concept im invested LOL #and i have a few ideas on how the rest of the crew would be found that ive discussed w friends #so perhaps if i find motivation and can outline. an actual plot progression and clean up this first part... #well who knows... XD #also im not a zs truther in fact my insta followers r well aware of my. certain feeling on the ship #HOWEEVVEERRR i do think zoro and sanji have such an interesting unique and important dynamic/relationship #that i enjoy studying outside of a romantic lens #anyway ive spoken enough . pls enjoy! or dont thats fine as well

[pherelesytsia]

Better man

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x John Shelby x female/Reader

Summary: Y/N finds out that Thomas is warming another woman's bed and suddenly she finds herself in John's arms.

Warning: Fluff, panic attack, Angst, Divorce

Word Count: 1.4k

a/n: Requests are open!!!

Part One

Light seeped mutedly through the window into the barely furnished bedroom of the house at the edge of the world. The smell of rotting wood and whiskey lingered in the air. Fine dust particles danced and birds chirped, singing a delicate serenade of love and adoration conquered the morning sky, painted in bright shades.

Sleepily, Y/N opened her eyes, fluttered open, turned and closed them again in hope of finding herself in a world of lovely dreams. Silence reigned, unknown, but Y/N enjoyed the unusual peace. Shocked, she awoke, realising the room was not the bedroom she woke up in every morning. Memories rushed back, clouding her mind. Y/N compressed her lips into a fine line, saw clearly and she didn't know whether to cry or laugh, whether to be lightened or joyful, how to feel. The dreadful memories flooded the room.

Slowly, fearing reality, Y/N braced herself and lowered her gaze. No ring adorned her finger. It is not a wicked dream, Y/N thought. Nobody rested by her side, but the crumpled blanket next to her let her know that once somebody was resting near to her. She exhaled deeply, tried to find out where she was, convinced she had fallen asleep during the ride. Her gaze travelled across the unfurnished room. The door was half-open. The wardrobe of dark wood faced the window obscured by curtains, preventing her from finding out where she was. Y/N attempted to remember the events, but all she could recall was the betrayal.

Footsteps echoed. Her fingers dug into the gauzy blanket and covered her body. Fear clouded her mind. A low prayer escaped her lips. Dressed in a pair of boxers, John entered the bedroom, did not close the door. Deep in thoughts, John turned and glanced at the woman sitting on his bed, guessing she must be asleep, but he was mistaken and the young man smiled as he saw Y/N was already awake.

            "Good morning," he whispered.

He felt unsure how to address Y/N, whether he should call the woman by her name or his love, but he knew he had to give her time, saw the pain raging in her eyes like a ruthless storm.

The memories of the previous evening returned and the painful wound gaped, but no crimson oozed. Weakly, Y/N smiled, unable to understand herself, feeling like a mere fool. She was happy to be close to John, yet her heart ached terribly, realising her worst fears had come true.

Pain struck her heart like hundreds of poisoned arrows, realised Thomas had never loved her, and John spotted the sadness in the eyes of the broken woman close to crying a river immediately.

Slowly, he approached the bed, knowing exactly what Y/N was thinking. The bed squeaked under his weight. He threw the blanket to the side and settled down right by her side, but he didn't place his hands on her body, didn't know if he was allowed to do it.

            "I'm sorry, but Thomas doesn't fucking deserve you. You are way too good for him. He is a disgusting piece of garbage." John said calmly.

Y/N chuckled.

            "If you wish, we can call him. I will stay by your side and hold your hand." John breathed.

The words left a horrible aftertaste in his mouth. Nervously, Y/N played with the hem of John's shirt covering her body and shook her head in response, couldn’t pronounce the words resting on the tip of her tongue. Y/N took a deep breath, tried to be strong, knew she had to say what was weighing her heart.

            "No, I don't want to see him. I found out that my husband has been warming another woman's bed for several months. It hurts. I loved him, at least I think I did. I am glad I have found out the truth, but what are you going to do? I should be on my way, and you should apologise and hope he forgives you." Y/N interjected.

She should be happy and Y/N knew it, but the truth pained terribly, made it impossible to feel happiness or love and Y/N wondered again why she had accepted the proposal all those months ago, why she had listened to her parents.

John looked forlornly at the woman an arm's length away from him, wanting to brush away the tears sliding in torrents down her cheeks and did not seem to stop in the next few moments. Carefully, he placed his hands on hers cramped into the gossamer sheets. Gently, his fingers stroked the back of her hands, trying to loosen her firm grip, trying so carefully to loosen one finger at a time and he did not fail and as each finger was released, he clasped her hands.

Y/N felt like an idiot, a fool, like a doll, a mere replaceable object, never cherished. She didn't notice as more tears travelled down her features, didn't notice John sitting right in front of her, trying to heal her broken heart with words of love and soothing touches.

            "Y/N." he breathed over and over again.

John pronounced her name like a prayer, like a sweet melody she wished to memories and never forget. She was lost in the ocean. Her boat was shattered, had no place to call her home. The ripples grew greater; the shore was out of sight, and the eye of the storm was drawing dangerously closer.

Y/N fixed her eyes on her saviour, realising she had been crying, not wanting to cry, needing to be strong, but she could no longer fight. John released her hands and Y/N longed for his closeness, but the pleading words didn't escape, couldn't say it out loud. Lips did not touch, Y/N looked up and threatened to lose herself in his eyes telling beautiful tales of walks under the setting sun shrouding the world in a reddish veil, of beaches, and romantic dinners.

John's hands rested on her body; felt she was threatening to collapse like a house of cards under the weight of the world. Carefully, he settled Y/N on his lap. Hearts clashed. Smiling, John brushed the strands of hair clinging to her cheeks behind her ear as her vision cleared. A lovely tale escaped his lips and the melody of heart carried the pain into oblivion.

            "You don’t have to worry about me. I made the right choice. I would always choose you, my darling." John objected.

            "What did Thomas mean by that?" gasped Y/N.

John knew what she was talking about. Y/N felt how his body stiffened under her touch, but she said nothing, embraced him, forbidding him to leave her side, to leave her alone in the dimness of the world.

            "You have always loved me, but you feared my reaction. I loved Thomas yet I did not and when I told my parents that I gave my heart to some else, they told me Thomas is a better match for a woman like me, but I know now that I made a mistake.” Y/N breathed into his ear.

Through watery eyes, Y/N saw the puzzlement in his eyes, the shock, didn't believe her words but then realised there was no lie darkening her eyes, telling a lie, wasn't uttering words as sweet as nectar to befuddle his senses.

Walls crumbled.

            "Thomas meant exactly what he implied. I never found the courage to tell you how much I love you, what you mean to me." John answered.

            "Why didn't you tell me before?", "What should I have told you? I am John, not Thomas Shelby. I have money, but at the end of the day I am not him.", "You are better." Y/N whispered affectionately.

            "Can I kiss you?" John asked hesitantly.

The question was needless. Tenderly he kissed her, placing his hands on her cheeks, delicately caressing her skin, and closed his eyes, hoping it was not a vivid fantasy, a fever dream he was about to awaken.

#john shelby #thomas shelby x y/n #john shelby x reader #grace burgess #cillian x reader #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby fic #thomas shelby x you #john shelby x y/n #peaky blinder fanfic #john shelby x you #peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby x you #thomas shelby #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders #thomas shelby fluff #peaky blinder imagine #thomas shelby smut #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #peaky blinder headcanon #tommy shelby fanfic #cillian murphy imagine #peaky fookin blinders

[daisychainsandbowties]

Soooo... what are your thoughts on a split in the OCS after the events of Season 1? I mean, Ava wasn't super popular in the OCS/those in-the-know since she was "the one who ran away", and Beatrice and Cam essentially went rogue when they helped her escape Crimson at the Cat's Cradle. So why would anyone believe her telling them that Adriel and his story were all a lie, when he himself is there claiming to be an Angel, returned to save humanity? (it's not like they can see the wraith demons at his command)

Duretti (if he doesn't bury his head in the ground) and Superion can support Ava's claims, but it's still the word of a non-believer against the guy centuries worth of their teachings claim is an angel.

It would also make the massacre of the OCS members even more devastating if their numbers had already been whittled down due to divided loyalties, only to have those who remained loyal to the Warrior Nun be slaughtered by double agents who truly believed in Adriel.

(also, felt it was kinda weird when pretty much all the uniformed FBC people were dudes)

(furthermore thinking on how much would've been added if Lilith's family sided with Adriel, and how much that would have influenced her decisions)

god this is so intriguing. when you think about it… the whole Lore of the ocs is based on the angel Adriel giving up his halo to save a dying human woman. if he wants it back… well, who are they to deny him? and thinking on the temptation to have it be over. most of the ocs have watched their friends die, their sisters thrown at the problem of evil until they’re no longer useful cannon-fodder.

god’s angel appears and tells you to put down your sword… damn, maybe that’s what you do.

on the other hand i feel like… probably out of everyone on the planet it’s the ocs sisters who’d have reason to side-eye adriel the hardest. sure, ava’s an unknown, but mother superion? mary? beatrice the golden child of the ocs? of course looking at it a different way what you have is a disgraced ex-halo-bearer, a usurping non-believer, and beatrice who was sent away by duretti & refused to go. sure, duretti is the pope, but individual orders obey the vatican in theory, but in practice things are more complex. and for the ocs, who have always acted as a shadow organisation, the ability to… well… disregard vatican oversight is probably a baked-in thing.

i feel like the split would be extreme. those who want to believe in adriel vs those who are dedicated to the mission: to keep hell the fuck off of earth, keep people safe from the influence of demons.

there’s good reason to be skeptical of adriel’s claims. he was buried under the vatican, the latin on the wall said ‘please don’t touch this ever. let what’s dead rest’ etc etc. seemed like just a thing you might put on a tomb, but the whole 'live specimen inside' thing might give pause. either we believe that st peter gives what the vatican decides legitimacy or we trust an angel as the unilateral word of god. the bible says maybe don’t do that.

ESPECIALLY if they saw footage of Adriel infecting a whole courtyard of bystanders with demons, i think most of the ocs would trust in what duretti & superion told them. god can speak from the mouth of a heretic (ava), and there’s plenty of ammunition in catholic theology for fallen angels/ agents of the devil/ the devil usually comes in disguise.

they know that Bad Shit is leaking in from some hellscape (most of them likely assume it’s captial-letter Hell) and now the long-lost author of their order appears and attacks (apparently kills) mary in broad daylight? they might be devout but they’re also in the know in a way that few people are, and i think the ocs by its nature is insular. i think mostly these girls come for the service to god & stay for each other, die for each other.

a schism is certainly possible (ahem, not unprecedented in christianity) but i think the ocs sisters trust each other. i think the way that mary died might move them. vincent’s betrayal too. does that look like the work of god? again, immense skepticism over any person claiming to be a mouthpiece for god.

BUT i see you about the idea that literally a handful of traitors would be enough. and that feels so plausible as to be almost guaranteed. sisters tired of fighting a battle of attrition with their bodies, ppl like crimson, the ones who just want it to be over. we really only learn that the ocs was compromised (and i’m inclined to think not by vincent because damn guys u would have done the smart thing & called bust on every safe-house vincent knew about, right??)

the idea that the way the ocs tosses spent sisters aside leads to its near-annihilation is… compelling.

& 🫠 lilith’s family turning on the ocs. i mean, they’d be hand-in-hand with lilith there, no? she sides with adriel. really & truly she IS our example of a girl who is all but tossed aside when she’s not useful. lost, alone, feeling monstrous, she turns to adriel because he can bear to look at her.

you’re so right that there’s so much to be said for the ocs as an organisation that literally chews up & spits out its soldiers. it’s a war machine & so despite superion & shannon & mary trying so hard to make it human and caring and good - i mean, the institution is… well… an Institution. it doesn’t have a heart.

& i think that’s what ava brings to it, what she shows them. that

1. you have to try to stop the cycle of violence. you have to at least try.

and 2. making an army out of lost girls is dangerous. like bea, they’ll throw themselves at danger; like lilith, they’ll throw themselves at death.

just… thinking of shannon & her ghost. how angry she is at the whole circus. of mary & her quiet sadness, so long in the making that her sorrow feels worn even when it’s new.

thinking of ava as a thesis in how you really fight back the darkness

by being the light

#warrior nun #this is making my brain do flips ty 😌 #wn meta

[burning-sol]

Hey hi hello, I was in the Your Apotheosis Zine!

Print & Merchandise // PDF Download

The following is the work I contributed.

Under the cut is a piece of written work I contributed.

A Trick of the Light

..the fabric of reality parted like a shimmering curtain, revealing a play of destruction. Exandroth marched forward with purpose, eyes scanning the animated murals either side of his path - a story of entities birthed from stardust being slaughtered by their kin forged in hellfire, assuring each other their mutual destruction in a fight for dominion over the realm. Exandroth climbed the stairs of a golden temple, not as a champion ascending to godhood, as she had once imagined, but as a mere observer, and another Exandroth stared back. Rumi and Thanatos had hurried to either side of Exandroth, tailing a muscular man, distinct from the other entities of the realm but not a stranger to it. Elotl spoke out, fists clenched and trembling.

“Zuen, what is the meaning of this? Why do our people attack us, surely you saw this-!”

“It’s simple Elotl, these aren’t our people. They’re those who turned their backs on us so long ago..heh... And those who we turned our back on in turn…”

Elotl cursed, “Dammit…”

“Exandroth, you will pay for this.” Elotl brandished his weapon, storming back out. Rumi and Thanatos parted to let the late God through, but Exandroth was bound to the floor and to the ceiling, restrained; Elotl bumped its shoulder on the way out, and the side-eye that the god gave the traitor was tangible.  

Zuen laughed to himself, strolling up to the caged angel. “Well Exandroth… Looks like everything’s going according to plan. It’s finally time. I trust you've found a suitable host.” They unlocked the angel’s chains, letting them unravel and fall away, and Exandroth had a returned sense of control. “Good luck.”

The exalted angel’s wings stretched out, and with a few flaps of its wings it took flight. It pierced the outer bounds of the vision, blinding the god slayers with transcendental light, leaving them squinting as their eyes adjusted to the newly revealed surroundings.

"Heh, you know I was tired of waiting... Exandroth."

"ZUEN."

"What took you so long? I've been waiting for a while. What has it been, a year now?”

"Exandroth you... You've been working with Zuen this whole time..?" Rumi breathed out.

"WHAT?"

"Of course he has, didn't it tell you?" The smugness of Zuen’s cadence had Exandroth furrowing its brow.

"No, he didn't.."

"WHY ARE YOU LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT. RUMI?"

"Exandroth, you said we could trust you..."

"Did he now?"

By now, Exandroth was more than irked by Zuen. “YOU *CAN* TRUST ME, WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? WE’RE STILL GONNA KILL THE FUCK OUT OF THIS GUY!! THANATOS-“ the angel teetered off, Thanatos’ eye lights burning crimson cutting him off. The severity of the situation had sank in in seconds – neither of her companions had bothered to take a step back towards her, they had been perturbed by the vision, driven away. "IT'S NOT LIKE THAT." Exandroth cautiously backed up deeper into the room, Zuen’s outline behind him morphing to create the silhouette of an angel with two great arching horns. “IT’S NOT LIKE THAT!! ZUEN IS JUST TRYING TO TURN US AGAINST EACH OTHER. LET’S JUST KILL HIM BEFORE HE-“

"Is that it Exandroth? Or do you just want us to do your dirty work now so you can take power for yourself?"

"YOU'RE NOT USUALLY LIKE THIS."

“Because I’m not usually lied to.. You would really conspire with a god if it meant you could get your way? Is everyone just puppets to you??”

“I HAVEN’T LIED, I HAVEN’T DONE ANYTHING!! YOU SEE ONE STUPID VISION AND SUDDENLY YOU CAN'T TRUST ME?? I THOUGHT WE HAD MADE UP!! I THOUGHT WE WERE ALL ON THE SAME PAGE!!"

Rumi punctuated their words with a mournful finality, “So. Did. I.”

Exandroth turned its back to the pair, even as Thanatos drew his axe, gazing up at Zuen with clasped hands. “ZUEN. ZUEN, TELL THEM IT ISN'T TRUE. TELL THEM YOU'RE A LIAR!!"

"This is your business Exandroth, not mine."

Exandroth’s expression contorted in blinding hatred, lip raised to show gnashing teeth. “YOU FUCKING DICK, I’LL KILL YOU ZUEN!!” It felt eyes boring into the back of its head, and it laughed; Exandroth laughed nervously, then boisterously, it became uncontrollable. Feathers creeped along Peter’s body, rupturing from his skin and tearing at his human form, Exandroth’s resemblance to a person lessening. Wings obscured him, but the teeth and eyes lining the freshly peeled limbs conveyed all the emotion it needed. "OH, SO YOU THINK *I'M* A TRAITOR, IS THAT IT? YOU DON'T TRUST ME?"

The question hung unanswered. Magic was gathering and building up and suffocating the space.

“WELL YOU KNOW WHAT? I NEVER NEEDED YOU. YOU’VE OUTGROWN YOUR USEFULNESS. AFTER I’M DONE WITH YOU, I’LL KILL ZUEN ALL BY MYSELF!! YOU’RE A TERRIBLE GOD SLAYER, YOU’RE A TERRIBLE PERSON, AND I’M GOING TO BECOME GOD.”

“Exandroth, you’re acting insane..!” “Your death would be a hinderance to us..”

"I'M NOT CRAZY!! AND I'M NOT GOING BACK TO BEING THE LAP DOG OF A BUNCH OF CIRCLE JERKERS!!"

Exandroth spun around, a celestial blaze igniting in a spark with the broad stroke of his wings. Rumi jumped back, their clothes elegantly slipping out of reach of getting singed. Their eyes darted back and forth, bouncing on their feet as they strategised and moved to change position. Meanwhile, Thanatos stood resolute, his own hellfire roaring and choking out the white flames. Exandroth held its breath, the fire burning higher, trying to gain the upper hand but making little headway. The intensity of the fire had nearly swallowed up Exandroth’s attention, but with a snap of her neck he caught Rumi attempting to flank him. The fire suddenly diverted and lashed towards Rumi like a whip, Rumi barely tripping ahead of the flames now hot on their heels. Thanatos’ weapon was clenched tightly between his fists, but he paused to listen out for the voice of reason he’d come to expect from Rumi. Rumi called out over the sound of crackling, “No!! Thanatos, don’t hurt him!! It’ll just hurt Peter!!

Exandroth’s otherworldly echo harmonised so it could jeer in a nasally voice, “THAT’S RIGHT THANATOS: DON’T HURT ME, IT’LL HURT PETER.” He tore Peter’s glasses from his face, dropping them within Rumi’s line of sight before cracking them under its heel. Exandroth whistled, the familiar Exandroth had neglected up until this point flying down to settle on its shoulder, giving Exandroth a soft lick on the cheek. “LIZARD,” Exandroth gestured for Lizard to attack… But Lizard merely blinked slowly. Its mouth opened and Rumi caught a faint static, watching with wide eyes and a shred of hope in their heart that something could be salvaged. Rumi’s stomach dropped when Exandroth aggressively brushed Lizard off, Lizard scrambling to fly away. “IT DOESN’T MATTER IF YOU ALL TURN ON ME, I’LL STILL KILL YOU!!”

“No!” Rumi’s blade tore through the fire with a holy glow, dispersing it. "It doesn’t have to be like this!! We don't have to fight! Just stand down!!"

"YOU SHOULD HAVE THOUGHT ABOUT THAT BEFORE YOU DECIDED TO CROSS ME,” Exandroth spat out.

Thanatos was out of patience, charging forward, axe scrapping against the ground. Thanatos raised up his weapon and slammed it down, eldritch appendages raising to meet it and tanking the blow with its doughy consistency. The flesh spread up the weapon, as if eager to consume it, before abruptly it retreated. It dissipated and melted into the floor, a hushed cacophony of shrieks following it - and Thanatos could hear it, a hundred voices quaking in fear of the smited blade.

Exandroth scattered the glass across the floor with a subtle kick, but evidently not subtle enough as Thanatos’ inner system whirred in recollection of a similar attack. Thanatos braced himself, shielding his body as he was assaulted by light refracting from the shards of glass, slicing at his metal plates. It gave Exandroth a moment to back up and put space between them, Exandroth backing up until it stood right alongside Zuen. Zuen was beaming right in Exandroth’s face, and Exandroth snarled, overwhelmed with the impulse to lash out. Exandroth put all her weight into a punch that left her stumbling forward, Zuen sidestepping the fist.

When its eyes parted from the ground to reassess its surroundings, the god had disappeared into a thick blanket of darkness. A bead of sweat rolled down his face, its eldritch sight unable to pierce the ethereal murk. It was effectively blind, Thanatos’ eyes weren’t on it – and Exandroth regretted having a hand in designing such a cut throat killing machine. By the time Exandroth had received its cue, it was too late to react. Exandroth let out an unholy shriek that had Rumi reaching up to block their ears; Exandroth ripping off feathers and meat as it hurriedly (and gorily) detached itself from the wing pinned under Thanatos’ axe. The missing mass of flesh nearly downed it, but it caught enough of its balance to scramble to its feet and escape another slash. Red light was bathing the surroundings, Exandroth drenched in sweat and the intense anxiety of a wounded animal. Something primal had kicked into high gear, because there were no words, just Exandroth breaking off and making a mad dash for the nearest exit.

Exandroth evaded Thanatos with an adrenaline-boosted shot of speed, only matched by Rumi’s own. In Exandroth’s wake an excess of celestial blood was gushing out and smearing along the heavenly grounds, and Rumi followed the trail diligently. Exandroth was scuttling away from his former companions with clumsy footwork and Rumi was close, so close, reaching out, a hair away— but Exandroth made a last-minute dive and fell over the edge, disappearing beyond the layer of clouds. Rumi was forced to stop short of the drop, staring into the abyss with their hand still reached out. They quietly muttered to themselves, “No… No….. No, no, no-!” Rumi dug around in their pocket. “Wait!! Peter!! Come back!!!!” In a flurry of emotion they had forced a ring onto their finger, and lurched forward with the intent to dive over the edge—

They fell back on their ass, scooting themselves back away from the edge and shaking their head, “No, no, that’s not going to work-“ They rested their hands on the nape of their neck; mind racing, buzzing with thoughts, reenacting the scene, recalling their time as Rumi, remembering Peter, losing track of their goals, their goal to slay the gods, wondering if they were wrong, if this was real… Dammit….. Dammit..! Thanatos’ foot fell heavy behind Rumi; Rumi lowered their head, hair falling over their face.

“Thanatos…” What did we do? “Thanatos, we need to find Peter…..” What did we do? “We need him…….” Rumi’s shoulders shook. “I can’t- We can’t do this without…” Was this their fault?

“…I understand.”

Rumi sniffled, only opening their teary bleared eyes upon feeling a cold-blooded friend crawl onto them. They sniffled again, “Lizard…? Oh.. I’m so sorry..” They gave a moment for them to sit in silence. …..Wait. “Lizard!!” Rumi tilted their head up to grin at Thanatos, picking up Lizard and holding up the creature to him. “..Thanatos, we can find still find Peter!!!”

“It does appear that way.”

Sunny approached the group, sitting beside Rumi and letting out a squeak. “..You’re right Sunny, this isn’t over. We just have to have hope. I can’t believe I was so blinded-“

Thanatos solemnly nodded.

“-but we can still fix this…”

“..and do you think it’s safe to leave Zuen behind?”

“Zuen?” Rumi frowned, their expression intense. “..I have a feeling he’ll be staying right where he is.”

Fin.

#📚 my posts #🖍️ art #Your Apotheosis #OH HEY DOUBLE WHAMMY YOU GUYS #you are very lucky today!! #just roll with it #jrwi apotheosis #jrwi rumi #peter sqloint #jrwi exandroth #jrwi thanatos #jrwi moonbeast #jrwi zuen

[galaxywhump]

[SV-240 AU Masterlist]

Part two of Berkeley's Revenge AU.

contents: recapture, defiant whumpee, tied to a chair, death threats, past fingore/amputation, traumatic haircut, shock collar.

~~~

Berkeley winces, picking up Wren’s severed finger through a tissue, which instantly turns crimson, soaked with blood.

“It could still be attached back,” he sing-songs, smiling at Wren before tossing the tissue into a bin. “Whoops, nevermind.”

Wren barely hears him, his wide unseeing eyes fixed on the ceiling, his breathing ragged, his forehead lined with cold sweat. His finger is gone, it’s been cut off, and its absence, once it finally registers, feels so weird and so wrong. He flinches and gasps when Berkeley grabs his left hand and starts playing with his fingers, smiling to himself.

“I guess when I feel like hearing you scream again, I can just take my pick.” He lets go, circles the table, and gets to cleaning and dressing the wound on Wren’s right hand, chuckling a bit at his instinctual attempt to wrench his hand free. “Try not to get an infection and die, but it should be fine. You'll live. You’re so tough, after all.” He glances at Wren’s face, listening to his frantic breathing. “Why so quiet, Rackham? No more jokes? Figures,” he scoffs, shaking his head. “We both know how pathetic you really are.”

“You cut off my fucking finger,” Wren rasps.

“And I can do it again if you don’t stop swearing.” The terror in Wren’s eyes when his head jerks towards Berkeley makes him smile. “Yep, I think that’s a good idea. Cutting off a finger every time you swear.”

“Y-you’re-”

“I’ll let that one slide, though.” He gives Wren a bloody pat on the cheek. “Cause you didn’t know, you poor thing. But from now on you better keep that in mind. Got it?”

Wren hates himself for his immediate feverish nod.

“Good. You have your moments of obedience, don't you? It's a shame Daniel never enforced it more, but now he's gone, you are mine, and I'll change things up a bit. No swearing is a good start." Berkeley cocks his head. “Yeah, feels good to say it. You’re mine, Rackham, and I can do whatever I want to you.”

His words chill Wren to the core more than Daniel’s similar musings ever did. He knew what Daniel wanted, and after a year or so surprises had become scarce. All he knows about Berkeley’s wants is terrifying.

Kill you. More modifications.

And who knows what else.

“Alright, let’s get you off this table for now.”

Wren follows Berkeley with his eyes as he crouches down next to a duffel bag on the floor and rummages through its contents, which Wren would rather not imagine, suspecting he won’t like whatever Berkeley’s about to take out now.

Sure enough, he retrieves a shock collar.

“What the-” He stops himself from finishing at the last possible moment, but fear still sets in and he shivers. It was obvious what he was going to say, and if Berkeley considers it enough to…

“Good, you’re learning.” Berkeley smiles, standing next to the table, right by Wren’s head. “You know what this is, right?” He dangles the collar, made of flexible metallic material with a tiny box attached on one side, in the air. “Daniel had one of these too. Tell me what this is, Rackham. Three.”

“A shock collar,” Wren rushes to answer, not wanting to find out what would happen if Berkeley had counted all the way down.

“Very good!” Berkeley coos and snickers. “So I take it you’ve had to wear it before?”

“Yeah.” It was once or twice, really, but Wren chooses not to specify. He’s already obediently answering Berkeley’s questions way too much for his liking. 

“Not enough, in my opinion, but we’ll fix it.” Without further ado Berkeley treads the collar under Wren’s neck, making him jolt in place when the cold metal touches his skin, then brings it around and tightens it until it fits snugly. “Mhm, much better. You’re a natural. I’m going to untie you now, but you will stay nice and still, cause if you so much as make a move to attack me, I’ll click this little button-” he waves the small remote in the air “-and then cut off a finger or two, unless I come up with something more exciting.”

“Okay,” Wren says, contemplating the ceiling and trying not to cry. The collar doesn’t stay cold for long, but it’s still uncomfortable, and swallowing makes him shudder, and… it's going to stay now, for however long Berkeley wants. 

At least Daniel-

Shut the fuck up.

He can’t completely silence the thoughts, though. At least Daniel never cut off his fingers. At least Daniel didn’t want to collar him for good; the few times he’d done that he almost looked disgusted and made sure to take it off as soon as it was no longer necessary - as if a shock collar was ever necessary for a human being.

He quite literally jolts back to reality when the collar activates, sending a bolt of electricity through his body. It ends as soon as it started, as if it never even happened, and once the initial shock wears off, he remembers Berkeley’s warning and his heartbeat picks up, his blood running cold.

“B-but I-” He looks at Berkeley, who’s watching him with a smirk, his finger resting on the button of the remote. “I didn’t even move!”

He can’t cut my finger off, he can’t, I didn’t do anything wrong, but he can do anything he wants, no, no, no-

“I know, idiot.” The insult sounds almost affectionate. “I wish you could see the look on your face right now, so terrified. But you’re right, you didn’t move. I just wanted to see if the collar works.”

The relief that overwhelms Wren makes it hard to breathe, as if the collar wasn’t making a good enough job of that.

Berkeley struggles with the sturdy knots of the restraints before finally untying them and motioning for Wren to sit up, nice and slow, no sudden movements. He grabs him by the arm and helps him get off the table, and his grip tightens when Wren sways on his feet a little.

Wren’s forced to take a few shaky steps, his legs barely cooperating with him after being immobilized for… however long it had taken him to wake up. With a push he finds himself sitting on a chair, which seems inconspicuous until Berkeley presses a button under it, causing armrests to slide out of the back. When his wrists are grabbed and slammed down on the armrests, it turns out that the chair is also outfitted with metal restraints, which snap closed, bringing Wren’s temporary freedom of movement to an end.

“I’d stay still anyway,” he sneers when Berkeley crouches down to tie his ankles to the legs of the chair, this time with regular rope.

“I know,” Berkeley says as he straightens up and smiles at Wren. “But I just like seeing you like this, and I’m sure you missed being tied up.”

“Not really.” Wren rolls his eyes, but he can’t ignore the sense of familiarity at being restrained like this. A feeling of resignation creeps up on him, but he tries to fight it, push it away, because he’s not resigned.

Right?

There’s an unpleasant scraping sound when Berkeley grabs the chair, turns it, and pushes it forward a bit, grimacing with effort.

“Maybe,” Wren says, looking up at him with a mocking smile, “you should’ve put the chair where you wanted it to be before, you know, strapping me to it.”

“Or it should’ve been a hover chair,” Berkeley snorts as he lets go and walks up to the closet in front of them. “But we’d already modified this one, so.” He shrugs, pressing one of the buttons on the side of the closet, causing its door to convert into a mirror, then walking away.

Wren wanted to keep his eyes on Berkeley at all times, but once he sees his reflection, he can’t look away, staring at it with wide eyes, his lips parted a bit, an attempt at another snark shut down in an instant.

The collar around his neck and the bloody carved word on his chest are jarring, mocking him, and his hand… He forces himself to look up from it when nausea creeps up on him. The worst part, though, is his face. His eyes are hollow, with tears glistening in their corners, and his expression is both familiar and new - familiar pained tension, new pure terror caused by the prospect of imminent death.

He never wanted to look like this again.

He closes his eyes only to flinch and open them when he hears a series of sharp sounds. In his reflection he locks eyes with Berkeley, who grins, standing behind him, wielding a pair of scissors.

“What…” Wren trails off, but realization dawns on him and his heart sinks.

“Come on, even you should be able to figure out what I want to do.” He snips the scissors again and can’t stop himself from laughing when Wren shivers. “I’m not gonna lie, I’m pissed that I had to cut my hair off thanks to you, so it’s only fair you get a haircut too.”

Wren tenses up, his heart beating fast, his mind a mess of protests he can’t say out loud.

It’s just hair.

But it’s not, and waiting for the first cut is unbearable.

“You cut your hair yourself on SV-240, didn’t you?” Berkeley runs his fingers through Wren’s hair to untangle any knots, not caring enough to try and avoid pulling. “And then you regretted it.”

“A little bit,” Wren says through gritted teeth, looking down only to wince when his gaze stops at his bandaged hand, he cut off my fucking finger, it’s gone. “It’s just hair.”

“Bullshit. Don’t lie to me.” Wren gasps when Berkeley closes his fist in his hair and wrenches his head back. “I can’t wait to see you cry, Rackham, cause you will cry.”

He swallows, which every single time only serves to remind him about the collar and his throat being squeezed tight, when Berkeley grabs the sides of his head and forces him to look straight ahead. The scissors are freezing against his cheek, but when they disappear, it’s anything but a relief.

“Did you cry?” he asks, trying not to shiver when Berkeley separates a strand of his hair and puts it between the blades of the scissors; before he can brace himself, they close, making him flinch.

It’s just hair. It’s just hair.

“A little bit,” Berkeley sneers, cutting off another lock - not completely short, much to Wren’s confusion. “But I had no choice. With some time it’ll just grow back, right? Of course, you don’t have that kind of time.”

As much as Wren wants to respond, he doesn’t. His impending death is something he’d rather not protest against, not wanting Berkeley to take it as a reason to kill him sooner. He stays silent, doing his best to hide his shivering and forced breathing as brown hairs keep falling to the floor, some clinging to his skin, tickling and annoying him, and he can’t even brush them off.

“I’m afraid it won’t be a flattering look on you.” Berkeley clicks his tongue, not pausing his work for a moment.

“How tragic. Are you telling me you’re not a professional hairdresser?” Wren raises one eyebrow even as he struggles to hold back tears. It’s not just hair, it’s a part of himself that Berkeley is taking away from him with a promise of taking so much more.

“No, but I mostly don’t give a shit whether you’re a pretty corpse or not.”

There it is again, and Wren is sure that the reminders will only get more and more frequent, harder to ignore. Even now he can’t help but imagine the worst-case scenario, someone finding his body, maybe barely recognizing him after Berkeley’s done with him-

Pull yourself together.

I won’t die here.

The scissors keep cutting.

I’m going to escape or be saved, he’s going to get locked up, I’ll… I’ll…

“Alright, let’s see.” 

Berkeley grabs him by the hair and cuts a little bit more off.

Leaving just enough length to be able to get a good grip.

“Perfect.” Berkeley leans down to rest his chin on Wren’s shoulder and smiles. “We’re short-haired buddies now, how cool is that?”

He doesn’t get a verbal reply, but the tears glistening in Wren’s eyes are enough of an answer for him.

“Remember what this means,” he says quietly, laying his hands on Wren’s arms and giving them a light squeeze. “You may have gotten a taste of freedom, but now you’re back where you belong, as someone’s property, tied up and collared, and I can do whatever I want to your body, understand?”

A second’s pause makes it clear he’s expecting an answer, and Wren nods, averting his gaze.

“Ah-ah, look at yourself, Rackham.”

When he obeys, hating himself for it, Berkeley gently wraps his hand around his neck, teasing with his thumb just above the collar, smiling when Wren shudders.

“What do you see?”

When Daniel put him in front of a mirror, he did his best to snark. He was so different back then, scared, but determined, having only experienced being restrained, silenced, and beaten, which now seems like a laughably mild treatment. He’s still determined, he’s still hopeful, the last thing he wants to do is give up, but he recognizes that in his current situation, and with his current captor, following his spark will only lead to retaliation that he might not be able to handle.

And so he lets his despair talk instead, his voice barely audible, giving Berkeley the answer he probably wants more than all the others that come to mind, captive, idiot, pathetic crybaby.

“Property.”

"That's right."

~~~

taglist: @faewhump @inky-whump @whole-and-apart-and-between @whatwasmyprevioususername @procrastinatingsab @funky-little-glitter-bomb @goneuntil @redstainedsocks @luminouswhump @lonesome--hunter @as-a-matter-of-whump @renkocchi @whump-only @muddy-swamp-bitch @girlwithacoolcat @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @sophierose002 @whump-headspace @to-whump-or-not-to-whump @kixngiggles @ohwhumpydays @whumpvp @wibby-wobbly-whump @stab-the-son-of-a @his-unspoken-words @pumpkin-spice-whump @onlyhappywhenitpains @suspicious-whumping-egg @morning-star-whump @there-will-always-be-blood @springwhump

#captivity whump #defiant whumpee #recapture #traumatic haircut #tied to a chair #fingore #shock collar #wren rackham #peter berkeley #sv-240 #sv-240 au #berkeley's revenge au #my writing #aka 2 berkeley 2 revenge #apparently sometimes i need a mix of a change of surroundings nicer weather and polish music to be able to write #so this wip finally worked #and i hope y'all like it

[thewriterg]

♡︎In the moment♡︎S.H

pairing(s): Steve Harrington x Fem!reader, Steve Harrington x Powerful!reader, Eddie Munson x Fem!reader, Nancy Wheeler x Fem!reader, Robin Buckley x Fem!reader

Summary: You get your powers back and in the process get hurt instead of Steve and he bandages you up instead of Nancy

Word count: 700+

Warning(s): Faint mention of blood, injuries, Slight stranger things spoiler ig?, reader has powers like the scarlet witch, Horny thoughts at a horrible time, sexual tension, and Language but that’s nothing new 😍

A/n: -GIF is not mine- But can we talk abt how Steve was so hottt in this season?? I Switched Roles for this and added my own spin but this Inspo is from @kiss-inthekitchen

“And you just couldn’t save of us from our death like this before!” Eddie screamed fighting off the oversized what you would say bats mixed with an eagle as you flicked your wrist a ball of crimson energy disabling the bats around Steve’s neck the group stopping to look at you in shock

“I told you I didn’t have my powers up until five minutes ago” You responded and as one of the creatures flew over Nancy before the girl could get bitten you threw another power source the creature squawking as it fell out of the air with a thud

“Just try to watch your backs!” You called out gravitating in the air a Flock of the spawn coming at all directions your friends fighting the few ones that got past you with a Canoe ore’s

Being distracted looking down at your friends one of the squealing bat-eagles launched itself on your back as you groaned loudly enough for the group to hear as more of the creatures swarmed you attacking any skin they could get as you struggled against them before screaming out in pain a crimson energy knocking the teens over the bat-eagles dropped out of the air like dead flies as you slow leveled yourself as well

“Get up we have to get moving there a lot more where that came from”

☏☏☏☏

While the group hid under skull rock watching the air clear from the creatures as you all slowly made you ways out sigh’s of relief heard throughout the group as you stumbled slightly dizziness rushing through you randomly as you leaned against the stone for support Steve quick to rush to your side forcing you to sit down with a grunt

“Im sorry what happened to The Whole vampire healing voo-doo” Robin rushed to your side next to Steve while Nancy ripped a piece of skirt

“Robin I just got my powers back I’m a little rusty I’m healing slower than usual” You groaned removing your hand from the front of your lower hip revealing the bite that was dug deep in your skin as Robin began to ramble on about symptoms of rabies as Steve Roughly pushed the girls arm

“Robin?”

“Yea?”

“I kinda wanna punch you” you panted as the girl nervously laughed just as Nancy finished ripping her skirt handing the fabric to Steve before dragging Robin by the arm out from under the rock

“You ready?” Steve questioned with the make like bandage hovering over your lower abdomen while you breathed heavily nodding out for him to get it over with as you lifted yourself from leaning on the rock your arms lifted in the air while you hands went to rake themselves through your tangled hair

Steve pressed bandage against your punctured skin the boy immediately noticing how your chest rose and fell and fell in uneven breaths before the boy shook his head bringing the ends of the bandage together as you let out a groan

Now Steve would’ve been fine if it was normal, regular groan but it was your groan that was high pitched and sounded like a moan more than anything while your head fell back the veins in your neck more prominent as Steve continued to stare at you

God you were so fucking pretty

At the long pause you eventually opened your eyes looking down at Steve while he shot you an apologetic look as he continued to tie the knot on the back of your skin and you were confused for a while before it was Like a light bulb went off in your head

“Are you serious Harrington I could be dying of rabies and you can’t keep it in your pants for three minutes. I wonder what my funeral would be like” You whispered shouted picking yourself up from the ground the bandage secure around your torso your shirt long gone in the Canoe you all came in your Jeans, boots, and bra the only thing shielding your body

“Oh come on Y/l/n it was in the moment” Steve muttered taking your hand guiding you from out the rock your bodies pressed tight together and it was pretty much in the moment but now not so much

#geegeeisawhoreontherun #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #robin buckley #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x reader #nancy wheeler #nancy wheeler x you #nancy wheeler x reader #fem!reader #stranger things #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #stranger thing season 4 #romance #i love you #thewriterg